The Smuggler's Daughter

by Kerry Barrett

  ‘I’d like to help with your research if I can,’ Jed said, taking his phone back and typing in my name. ‘Like I said, I’m really interested in this sort of stuff. So if you’ve got any questions, just let me know.’

  ‘I’ve got one already,’ I said, thinking of Liv back at the pub.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘It’s not about Emily Moon.’

  Jed frowned. ‘What’s it about?’

  ‘The people who lived at the pub before we did.’

  ‘Oh yeah, you mentioned them before. What about them?’ Jed shifted in his chair, looking slightly uncomfortable. Or perhaps it was just because the chairs were hard.

  ‘It’s weird, they obviously left in a hurry because we have a lot of their stuff in the pub. I wondered if you knew them or why they went? Your mate Ewan said he did some work with the landlord.’

  ‘Mike,’ said Jed. ‘Mike Watson.’

  ‘That’s it. Did you know him? Where’s he gone?’

  Jed shook his head. ‘Just by sight really,’ he said.

  ‘So you don’t know why they left in such a hurry?’

  Jed looked out of the café window and then back to me. ‘Family emergency, I heard,’ he said. ‘Some relative was ill.’

  ‘Bit odd. Why would the whole family have to go?’

  ‘No idea.’ He shrugged. ‘Could be anything really, couldn’t it?’

  He was right, but I was still disappointed he didn’t know more. Jed picked up his phone but fumbled and it dropped on the floor. As he leaned over to get it, his jacket fell open and I thought I caught a glimpse of another phone in his inside pocket. But before I could properly look, he straightened up again, leaving me unsure if it had been a phone or something else. I closed my eyes briefly. I had to stop being suspicious of everyone I met. Even if Jed did have two phones, where was the harm in that? Lots of people did. My own dad, in fact. And that was simply so he could keep his work and home life separate.

  ‘I have to go,’ Jed said. ‘It was nice seeing you. I’ll let you know about those books.’

  He gave me a wide smile that seemed more than a little forced, and headed out of the café door. I watched him walk past the window, hunched down in his jacket, hoping he’d glance in my direction and I could wave. But he didn’t look up.

  Chapter 20

  Emily

  1799

  Arthur didn’t come the next day. I waited impatiently for him as the evening grew closer but he didn’t arrive.

  Bored and listless, I dragged myself downstairs. My mother was short with me, and wouldn’t look me in the eye. I couldn’t blame her really. Everything was broken and I didn’t know how to mend it. I just knew that the only way to stop this was to find out what Morgan was doing – and, if he really was smuggling, somehow alert the revenue men and bring him to justice. I felt helpless as I listened to Mam chatter to the few customers in the inn. She didn’t seem as edgy as she normally was. In fact, she seemed lighter this evening, and I noticed she’d not had as much to drink. Was that because there were drinkers to serve? Or was it because she knew Morgan wouldn’t be coming tonight? Perhaps she knew he was going to be busy elsewhere and that had brightened her mood.

  Sitting in my usual spot by the window, I went over my plan in my head. I would wait for Arthur to arrive, I thought, which wouldn’t be long because it was already getting dark. Then together we would go up on to the cliffs and see what we could find. We would hide behind one of the large rocks and wait for as long as we had to. Morgan was bound to show up sooner or later. After all, we knew he’d mentioned the inn to the man in the courtyard, and we knew their arrangements were for tonight – it all made sense.

  Eventually, a group of three men came into the inn and ordered ale. My mother livened up more at the sight of customers, and I felt a flash of sympathy for her. She was a born hostess, living to make people happy and entertain and without customers she was like a duck out of water. Awkward and out of place. The two older men went to where Mam stood serving the drinks, while the other, a young chap not much older than me, sat himself down at a table and beckoned me over. I glowered at him, because I did not like engaging with customers, but he beckoned me again. So, with a great deal of effort I forced myself to get up off my chair and went over to where the young man sat.

  ‘Emily?’ he said in a low tone.

  Surprised, I nodded.

  ‘I have a message from Arthur.’

  I blinked at him. He must be one of Arthur’s friends. He knew everyone, Arthur did. He was that sort of boy. Able to chat to anyone from Mr Kirrin in the big house, to beggars on the street.

  ‘Arthur says his father needs him and he can’t get away this evening. And he says to tell you not to go alone. He said to be firm about that. Don’t go alone.’

  I didn’t speak.

  ‘He said you were quiet.’ The young man looked amused. ‘You’ve understood though?’

  I nodded again.

  ‘That’s good,’ he said. He glanced over at my mother who was laughing with the other two men at the counter. ‘She’s a fine woman, your mam.’

  I followed his gaze and watched Mam present one of the men with a brimming tankard of ale as though he’d won a prize. This was how she was supposed to be. Light-hearted and friendly, and Morgan had taken all that away from her.

  Giving Arthur’s friend a small, tight-lipped smile, I turned away. What was I to do now? Arthur wasn’t coming, but the fact remained that Morgan was going ahead with whatever he had planned for tonight and it might be the best chance I had to find out what he was up to.

  It took just seconds for me to make my decision. It didn’t matter what Arthur had said. I would go out to the cliffs alone and see if I could track Morgan down, just as we’d planned.

  I waited until the sun had gone down completely and then gestured to my mother that I was going upstairs to sleep. She nodded, still focused on the few customers who were at the inn. Instead of putting on my nightdress, though, I swapped my pale dress for a dark grey one that I thought would help me blend into the shadows. Then I wrapped myself in my cloak and pulled the hood up over my fair hair and quietly slipped out of the back door.

  I knew the clifftops like the back of my hand, because I’d grown up in Kirrinporth and those cliffs had been my playground as a child, but it still took me a moment to get my bearings in the darkness. My breath was coming in short, shallow pants and I had to stop for a moment to calm myself. I wasn’t going to plunge into the sea like Theodora and Diggory, I told myself sternly. Theodora and Diggory weren’t real and I knew where I was going. The night was chilly and the wind had a bite to it that made me glad of my cloak. I tightened it round my neck and crouched down behind one of the large boulders to wait.

  It had been cloudy all day, and the clouds remained, but it seemed Morgan knew what he was talking about when it came to the weather because as I sat there, behind the rock, the wind rose up, blowing away the clouds, and the moon came out.

  As the gloomy darkness lifted and the moon’s silvery sheen crept over the clifftops, I shrank down into my cloak. There was no one around as far as I could tell, but I didn’t want to risk being spotted. And that’s when I heard the mournful moaning I’d heard from the inn. This time though it was right beside me, louder than ever, and so unearthly it sent a shiver down my spine. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, and pinched my lips together to stop myself screaming in fear. Was this Theodora and Diggory? Were they coming to find me and push me off the clifftop to my doom?

  I stayed still, frozen in fright, for a few minutes, but nothing happened. There was no push. No icy cold spectral hands on my back, to shove me from my safe hiding place. Nothing, except the wailing sound and the wind whipping the hood of my cape round my neck.

  Slowly, I forced myself to open my eyes, convinced I would see Diggory’s spirit waiting there. But to my enormous relief, there was nothing. No one – living or dead – anywhere in sight. But my heart was still thumping. This was a big mis
take, I thought. I should go home before I scared myself further, and come back when Arthur was around. But then I thought again of Mam’s lightness when Morgan wasn’t around and changed my mind, as the hooting, melancholy moaning started up again, right beside me. The wind blew across my face at the same time and I shivered. And then I had a thought. Carefully, I stood up, holding my cloak with both hands. Even on my feet, the boulder I’d been hiding behind was a little taller than me. It was smooth, cold grey rock with holes worn by years of rain and sea gales, and it was to one of those holes I now put my ear. There again was the wailing sound. A hollow, hooting, sad moan coming directly from the hole in the rock.

  I let out my breath in a gasp and leaned against the boulder for support. It was the wind through the holes that made the sounds, I thought. Not ghosts. Not Theodora or Diggory. Just the wind. What a fool I was to let myself get so frightened. My father would laugh at me if he were here.

  A shout from below made me jump again. I was easily scared this evening, it seemed. I looked out over the cove and there in the moonlight, I could see the outline of a large ship on the horizon. And then there was the slapping of oars on water. Blinking, I gazed across the see. And finally I spotted a rowing boat with two men – or was it three? – on board. The boat was laden with cargo, I could tell by how low it sat in the water. So it was indeed smuggling, I thought. Just as we’d suspected. I wondered what their booty was. Bottles of drink, perhaps? Tobacco? Who knew. The little boat was making good progress, carried with the tide as it headed into land. I gasped again. This wasn’t Kirrinporth cove, where boats could land safely. Our little bay was rocky and the currents unpredictable; it was no place to bring in a boat. And yet, the rowers came closer and closer, calling to someone on the beach.

  Intrigued, I lay down on my stomach and inched towards the cliff edge so I could look down on to the sand. And there, as I’d expected, was Morgan. He was wearing his tricorn hat; it hid his face and though the moon was bright it was too dark to see him clearly, but I could tell it was him from his stance. He stood staring out to sea, another man – who I thought was Petroc from his shape – at his side. When the rowing boat drew closer, they both waded into the waves and helped guide it up the beach.

  I had another start of recognition as one of the men who’d been in the boat straightened up; it was the man Morgan had been talking to in the courtyard. Together, Morgan, Petroc and the men from the boat began unloading the cargo quickly and efficiently. They’d obviously done this before as they fell easily into a system with Morgan directing the proceedings and the others forming a line to pass whatever they were unloading up the beach. It was quite impressive to watch, so swift were they.

  I couldn’t see right to the top of the beach, where the sand met the bottom of the cliff I was on. I tried wriggling forward a bit more but it felt too precarious and the beach was too dim for my eyes to see exactly what the men were doing.

  I would wait, I thought, until they came up the path on to the clifftop. I didn’t envy them that trip. It was a difficult enough walk in the bright light of daytime and even without having your hands full. It always left me panting for breath, with legs that wobbled from the exertion, and I could never look back as I was clambering up. I’d done that once when I was much smaller and been stuck where I was, convinced if I moved a muscle I’d tumble down on to the rocks below. Eventually my father had climbed down to get me, and I’d sworn never to make that mistake again. How the men would make it with their arms full of … whatever it was … I couldn’t imagine.

  I hunched down again, covering myself in my cloak and waited for them to emerge at the top of the cliff. I waited. And waited. And yet they didn’t appear. What was going on? I strained my ears for voices, but the only sound was the waves crashing on the rocks as the tide came in.

  Confused, I stood up, looking back out to sea. But the ship was gone. Dropping to my knees, I peered over the edge again. To my utter astonishment the beach was empty. There was no sign of the men, no evidence of their cargo, and even the rowing boat had vanished. I rubbed my eyes. What on earth was happening? Had I fallen asleep and dreamed the whole thing?

  Gathering my cloak around me, I walked back to the inn, still bewildered. I would draw everything I saw to help me remember, I thought. Inside, I darted upstairs and sketched as fast as I could, wanting to make sure I remembered every detail. My charcoal covered the pages as I captured the men on the beach, carrying their haul of goods from the boat. I paid special attention to the flash of white in Morgan’s hair. When I’d finished, I paused, thinking for a moment. I normally kept my pictures tied together on a shelf at the end of my bed. But this was too important. I didn’t want to risk Mam finding them and burning them as she had done with my drawings of Da’s death.

  I slid off my bed, and went to the window. The wide ledge, where I’d sat that terrible night, had a shallow hidden compartment where I’d stored my treasures as a little girl – feathers and shells from the beach. I wasn’t sure if it would still open. But I felt along the edge carefully, pushing down, and heard with satisfaction the catch release. I slid the pictures inside and pushed it shut again. No one would find that unless they were looking for it. They’d be safe there.

  Satisfied, I began getting ready for bed. I would and go and find Arthur as soon as I woke in the morning. I would tell him what I saw and perhaps he could make sense of this.

  Chapter 21

  Phoebe

  2019

  I caught the bus back to The Moon Girl because – predictably – it had started raining. On the way I thought about where Emily Moon had gone and whether she really had died all those hundreds of years earlier. I wasn’t stupid; I know I was interested in her story because of what had happened at work with Ciara James. I’d failed Ciara but perhaps I could somehow find out the truth about Emily Moon instead. Obviously it wouldn’t bring Ciara back or ease her mother’s suffering, but it would give me something to focus on and perhaps make me feel the tiniest bit like I wasn’t completely useless. A way to make amends, almost.

  And I thought about Jed. I’d been single for a while and since my troubles at work, I’d not thought about romance, but Jed was making me feel things I’d not felt in a long time. I liked how interested he was in everything I had to say, and how much he loved Cornwall. And his broad shoulders and strong arms were a definite plus. I smiled to myself as the bus rumbled along towards the pub. Maybe the summer was about to get more interesting.

  When I got back to the pub, Liv was sitting at the end of the bar with her laptop open. She looked up as I bounced into the pub and gave me an alarmed look.

  ‘What’s happened? Are you okay?’

  ‘Absolutely fine,’ I sang, giving her a hug.

  ‘Weirdo,’ she muttered but she hugged me back.

  I let her go – eventually – and she grinned at me. ‘How was your walk?’

  ‘I’ve been all over,’ I said.

  She snapped her laptop shut. ‘Fancy a coffee?’

  I shook my head. ‘Just had one. With Jed.’

  Liv looked thrilled. ‘Tell me everything.’

  She slid off her stool and took herself behind the bar. ‘Sure you don’t want anything?’

  ‘Go on then. I’ll have a cappuccino.’

  She made the coffee and as she handed me my cup it rattled in the saucer and I noticed her hand was slightly shaky. I wondered if she’d been going over the accounts again. But before I could ask if she was okay, she nudged me.

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘I bumped into him in Kirrinporth and we went for coffee,’ I said. ‘He’s going to help me investigate Emily Moon.’

  ‘Investigate Emily Moon, eh?’ Liv said, making the words sound absolutely filthy.

  I giggled. ‘He’s really nice.’

  ‘And also extremely hot.’

  ‘That too.’

  ‘When are you seeing him again?’

  I shrugged. ‘No plans. Maybe he’ll come in tonight?�
� I’d have to put some make-up on, I thought.

  ‘How did you get on with Ewan?’ I said, suddenly remembering what Liv had been doing while I’d been hanging out with Jed. ‘Is he going to help? What did he say?’

  A shadow crossed Liv’s face but then she smiled. ‘He was quite helpful actually. He’s got a few ideas.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Oh nothing worth boring you with.’

  ‘I’d like to know.’

  ‘Honestly, Phoebe, it’s all just crappy pub stuff.’

  Was I imagining it, or was her smile beginning to look a bit forced?

  A draught from the door made me look round to where two couples had just come in. Liv straightened up and gave them her best barmaid grin before they could clock how quiet the pub was and change their minds. ‘What can I get you?’

  As the customers decided what to order, she turned back to me. ‘Why don’t you chill out upstairs. Have a bath. Read your ghost stories. Put your feet up.’

  ‘Really?’ I said.

  ‘Go on, I’ll be fine here. I’ve got some bits to do anyway. You can help out later. Hopefully it’ll be busier then.’

  Feeling slightly like I’d been dismissed, I got down from my bar stool. ‘Give me a shout if you need me.’

  Liv was right: the pub was busier again that evening. There was more football on, which helped. According to Liv anyway.

  ‘Cheap beer and bar snacks,’ she said, as the first customers arrived. ‘Not what I was expecting from Cornwall, but it’s good enough.’

  ‘It’s a world away from the surfers and posh families we were hoping for, isn’t it?’ I said sympathetically.

  She shrugged. ‘Beggars can’t be choosers, Phoebe. As long as that till’s going, I’m not complaining.’

  I looked at her curiously. ‘Is it good enough, though?’ I glanced round the bar, where a few men and the occasional woman were gathered. It didn’t strike me as the money spinner Liv needed it to be.