by Sharon Sant
Polly flicked her hair back. ‘You simple or somethin’?’ The man’s mouth fell open. ‘You must be,’ she sniped. ‘It’s obvious I’m tryin’ to bust someone out.’ All three men stared at her. Annie shook her head in a tiny movement but Polly ignored her silent warning. ‘I suppose you’re goin’ to lock us up an’ all now,’ Polly said carelessly.
The first man shook himself. ‘Grab her,’ he ordered.
Annie looked as though her legs would give way. Polly winked at her as they were both grabbed and their arms twisted up their backs. ‘Don’t you worry, sweet,’ she whispered, ‘there ain’t a cell that has held me yet.’
Annie didn’t look convinced and, if possible, she paled even more than her usual lily-white complexion.
‘Two of these nippers are black haired…’ one of the jailers said to his companion as they pushed the two girls down the corridor.
‘Yeah…’ the second returned with a leering grin, ‘I noticed that too. The missus could do with a new winter coat.’
They burst into raucous laughter. Had they not been holding her so tightly, Polly would have punched hers in the face.
Isaac gave a quick grin as the girls were pushed into the cell with him. ‘Ah, Poll, if I’d known you were that keen to be with me I’d have got locked up sooner.’
The key rattled in the lock and they were left alone, the sound of the men’s laughter still ringing in their ears.
‘Shut up, you great lump, afore I knock your block off,’ Polly snapped. ‘We’re in more trouble than you know.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Nothin’… I just got a funny feelin’ about what they were saying.’ She shot a quick, cautious glance at Annie before turning back to Isaac, who said nothing in reply. He moved aside to let them sit on the bed, and Polly’s expression softened as she noticed him wince. ‘What’s the matter with you?’
He moved the fabric of his ripped trousers to reveal an angry gash running the length of his thigh. ‘Got into an argument with some railings, didn’t I?’ He gave Polly a lopsided smile. ‘The railings won.’
Annie sucked in her breath. ‘That looks nasty, Isaac. Does it hurt?’
‘Course it hurts, you idiot,’ Polly cut in. She stooped down to get a closer look. ‘You want to watch that doesn’t get infected.’
‘You goin’ to kiss it better for me?’
‘Not likely,’ she said, standing up. She made her way to the bars and pulled at them. ‘This is a rum do, ain’t it?’
‘What do you think will happen when Ernesto finds us gone?’ Annie asked quietly.
‘He won’t be makin’ us a cake, that’s for certain.’ Polly went back to the bed and sat down. ‘That’s not the worst of our worries, though.’
‘What do we do?’ Annie asked.
‘I’m thinking,’ Polly snapped. Her attention was drawn to the tiny window. ‘Too small,’ she sighed after studying it for a moment. She looked at Isaac. His skin was grey, black shadows under his eyes. ‘You don’t look so good,’ she said.
He gave her a tired smile. ‘I’m tougher than I look, Poll.’
‘How about you pretend to be more ill than you look?’ she said slowly. He raised an eyebrow in questioning response. ‘You pretend you’ve swooned an’ I’ll call the guards over. They’ll have to open the doors, and when they do, we’ll jump ‘em.’
‘Do you think that will work?’ Annie asked doubtfully.
‘Got any brighter ideas?’ Polly said. ‘Seein’s as it’s your fault we’re in here in the first place.’
Annie’s eyes widened. ‘My fault?’
‘If you’d kept them out of the way a bit longer, I could have had the cell open and we’d have all been half way to our beds by now.’
Annie chewed her lip. ‘I did my best,’ she said quietly.
‘Ah, come on, Poll,’ Isaac cut in. ‘Weren’t Annie’s fault.’
‘How do you know, face-ache?’
‘If it were anyone’s fault, it were mine.’
Polly narrowed her eyes. ‘So it was. Good thing you reminded me, goat-brains.’
Isaac smirked. ‘I love it when you insult me. I want more. We ain’t had clotpole today, give me clotpole!’ Polly smacked him on the arm. ‘Ow!’ he cried, rubbing the spot, his face twisted in mock pain.
‘If you don’t shut up, you great oaf, I’ll give your bad leg one an’ all.’ Polly left the bed and went back to the cell door, leaning her head on the bars as she gazed out. ‘I can’t think of any other way to get out,’ she said. ‘We should try; it’s got to be better than sittin’ in here with you two all night.’
Annie glanced at Isaac with a hurt expression. He winked at her. ‘She don’t mean it, Annie.’
‘I bloomin’ well do.’ Polly turned to them. They looked up at her and she smiled slightly. ‘I suppose you’re alright sometimes,’ she said, her tone softer.
‘Let’s have a go, then,’ Isaac said, lying himself face-down on the floor and closing his eyes.
‘Help!’ Polly shrieked through the bars. ‘Help us, he’s fainted!’
Annie leapt to her feet and joined Polly at the cell door. One of the men appeared.
‘What’s all this racket?’
Polly could smell alcohol on his breath even before he was within five yards of them. ‘It’s Isaac, he’s swooned.’
The man cast a glance at the prone figure of Isaac. ‘Happen he has.’
‘Ain’t you goin’ to do somethin’ about it?’ Polly asked.
The man looked up at her. ‘No.’
He had already started to walk away as Polly shouted after him. ‘Leave a young boy to die, would ya? Heartless! Wait till the magistrate hears!’ She sighed. Isaac lifted his head.
‘That didn’t go to plan, did it?’
Polly returned to the bed as Isaac scrambled awkwardly to his feet and limped across the room to join her.
Annie continued to watch through the bars, her attention drawn to the lights at the end of the gloomy corridor. She heard a long sigh coming from behind her, the swish of fabric, and turned to see Isaac embrace Polly.
‘It’ll be alright,’ he said in a low voice as she leaned against him and he stroked her dark curls away from her face. ‘We’ll think o’ something, you’ll see. Me and you, we’ve been in worse scrapes, ain’t we?’
Annie blushed and quickly turned away. She stared out through the bars as the room lapsed into silence. The smell of mould and sawdust, and something that she dared not try to identify, hung in the air. From the main room, the low murmur of conversation, punctuated by raucous outbursts, reached them as the guards continued their night watch. It was then that she caught sight of a fleeting shape, and looked to see a mouse scurry into a tiny hole in the wall. Annie turned her attention back to the others. Isaac was now leaning back on his elbows as Polly carefully peeled back the rip in his trousers to look at his wound.
‘This is goin’ to get gammy, make no mistake. We could do with some o’ that what they’re drinkin’ in there to clean it,’ Polly said.
Isaac grimaced. ‘Steady on, Poll. You want to make me scream?’
Polly tutted. ‘I thought you said you were a man?’
Isaac tried to smile, but the effort seemed to be draining him. He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. Annie chewed on her lip as she watched them. Then, she turned her face to the bars and began to sing.
Polly flicked her head in Annie’s direction and stared. But, moments later, her eyelids started to droop. She shook her head to clear it, but drowsiness took hold again. She rolled down next to Isaac on the bed and rested her head on his chest.
‘Sounds like an angel,’ he murmured as his arm curled around her and his eyes closed too.
Annie continued her strange song, a sound like crystal cutting through the air, sharp, sweet notes that seemed to echo through the very fabric of the world itself.
She looked to check on Polly and Isaac. They were nestled together, both sleeping soundly. Anni
e went over and laid a gentle hand on Isaac’s wound, resting it there for a moment, murmuring softly. After a few moments, she began to sing again, a much quieter, lazy melody this time. The mouse appeared from its hole, sniffed at the air, and then turned its bright eyes on her.
‘Help us, little one. Do this one thing for me. I promise your will is your own afterwards.’
The mouse’s whiskers twitched slightly, and then it scampered off, down the corridor. Annie waited. It was gone a while but she didn’t move, only to turn her head occasionally and check that Polly and Isaac were still asleep. Eventually, it returned, slowly nudging a key, inch by inch down the corridor towards the cell. Annie watched it patiently. The key was a huge weight for such a tiny creature. Annie smiled. ‘Perhaps you need help.’ She opened her mouth to sing again, and this time three more mice appeared from gaps in the stone walls. They pushed at the key together, inching it along the corridor until it was in reaching distance. Annie put a hand through the bars and grabbed it. She turned to check on the others, and saw that they were still asleep.
The mice stood before her, motionless. She clicked her fingers and they all shook their heads before scurrying away into their holes.
Rattling the key in the lock, Annie opened the cell door. She went over to Isaac and nudged him. ‘Isaac, the cell was unlocked the whole time!’
He opened his eyes, not quite able to focus on her. ‘What’s that you say?’
‘Polly!’ Annie shook her. Polly grumbled and nuzzled into Isaac, who gave a contented grin and closed his eyes again.
‘Get up!’ Annie hissed.
Polly opened her eyes. ‘Who are you shoutin’ at?’
‘The door is open. We can go but we have to hurry.’
Polly stared at Annie. ‘How did… it weren’t open before, I’m sure of it.’
‘It must have been.’
Polly stuck an elbow into Isaac’s ribs before sitting up.
‘Ow!’ he cried.
‘Get up, you big oaf. Time to go home.’
Isaac pushed himself up. ‘What are you talkin’ about?’
Annie went over to the door and pushed it open. ‘See?’
Polly leapt up and Isaac followed.
‘That was locked, I tried it,’ Polly said.
‘It ain’t now, Poll,’ Isaac replied, a slow smile spreading across his face. ‘I say we get back afore old Ernesto misses us.’
Polly went cautiously down the corridor and stopped at the opening to the main room, peering around the corner. The three men were all seated, but slumped across the table, a hand of cards and a glass of spirits before each one. Polly crept over to the nearest one and lowered her face to his, hardly daring to breathe.
‘Asleep,’ she whispered to the other two as she straightened up. Isaac and Annie emerged from their hiding place around the corner.
Isaac nodded as he made his way over, Annie following. Polly turned to go. ‘Wait!’ he called in a loud whisper.
Polly scowled at him. ‘What now, clotpole?’
‘I got to get Ernesto’s money back. They gave some back to the cove who got me arrested but they couldn’t find the other and they kept it…’ he went to the drawers and started to rifle through, as quietly as he could. Polly frowned and Annie stole an anxious glance at the sleeping men. ‘It’s not here,’ he said.
‘We’ll have to go without it.’
‘We can’t. I’d rather face deportin’ than Ernesto if I go home without it. Hang on…’ he said, making his way over to the sleeping men.
‘You’ll wake them!’ Annie whispered fearfully as he began to search their pockets.
‘Don’t you worry, sweet,’ Polly grinned. ‘They don’t even notice Isaac lookin’ when they’re awake, never mind asleep.’
With a look of triumph, Isaac held aloft the second coin purse he had stolen that day. ‘Got it!’
‘Good, now hurry up!’ Polly hissed. They headed for the entrance and stepped out into the dark street, closing the doors quietly after them.
‘That were a stroke of luck,’ Polly said as they marched back towards the main road out of the town.
‘Yeah,’ Isaac agreed. ‘They must have been stinkin’ drunk.’
Polly turned her attention to Annie and watched her carefully. Annie glanced at her, but said nothing, and then turned to face the road once more as Polly’s penetrating gaze continued to bore into her. ‘Your leg looks alright now an’ all,’ Polly said glancing at Isaac.
‘I clean forgot about that,’ he said, looking down at himself in some surprise. ‘It does feel better.’
‘That’s lucky,’ Polly replied darkly, ‘coz if we don’t get back before Ernesto wakes, you’ll have more than a bad leg to worry about…. We all will.’
Sixteen:
Polly had remained silent on the subject after they had broken back into the house and she finally managed to inspect Isaac’s leg only to find that the wound was almost healed. Isaac himself seemed unconcerned by the strangeness of it, and Polly merely threw Annie a glance loaded with understanding, Annie doing her best to avoid the intensity of her gaze. There had been no time for anything else, as Ernesto was heard moving about in his study and the three of them had hurried to their bedrooms before they could be discovered. By the time dawn had arrived and the three had roused for their daily chores, it was difficult to see that Isaac had ever been injured at all.
‘It’s all there.’ Isaac tipped the coins out onto Ernesto’s desk. Ernesto looked slowly up at him with a dark scowl, but Isaac held his gaze defiantly.
‘Do I need to know how you came by this?’ Ernesto began in a low voice. ‘Because if you bring trouble to this house…’
‘There’ll be no trouble.’
‘There’d better not be, because I will point them straight to you and deny any knowledge of where this came from.’
‘You won’t be lyin’ then, because you don’t know where it came from.’ Isaac’s reply was cheerful enough, but there was a barely perceptible steel to his tone.
Ernesto opened a desk drawer and scraped the coins into it. ‘Get to your chores; that stable stinks like the breath of Beelzebub himself.’ Tipping his cloth cap, Isaac turned to leave. ‘Tell Poll I want a word with her,’ Ernesto added.
Isaac glanced back once, and then left the room without reply.
‘What did he say?’ Annie asked anxiously as Isaac emerged into the courtyard.
‘He wants you, Poll,’ he replied, turning to Polly as she came from the washroom drying her hands on her apron. Polly glanced between the two of them before grimacing and making her way into the house. Annie narrowed her eyes slightly as she watched her go.
‘Annie,’ Isaac said in a low voice when Polly was out of earshot. ‘You may think I’m simple, but something strange happened last night in the jail. Whatever you’re hiding, you need to hide it better than that.’
And with that, he strode off to muck out Chester. Annie stared after him, her already pale skin seeming to lose a shade. What did Isaac mean? Had Polly said something to him? He had seemed oblivious to all that she had done the night before, but then he had been in quite a state when they finally got home, despite his bravado. Isaac might give the impression that he was an ineffectual, happy-go-lucky oaf, but he was far from stupid. What if he had worked it out once his head was clear? Could she trust him if he had guessed her secret? More importantly, could she trust Polly if Isaac shared his suspicions with her? Polly already knew far too much, and Annie knew that was her fault.
Twisting her fingers together, Annie glanced at the door to the house. Polly was in there now, and God only knew what she was telling Ernesto.
Polly pushed the door open to Ernesto’s study and went in. His head shot up at her entrance and he hurriedly stuffed a sheet of paper into his desk drawer.
‘Don’t you know how to knock, girl?’ he thundered.
‘You knew I was comin’. Didn’t think I needed to.’
‘Well start. I am supposed to b
e the man of this house, but some days I wonder.’
‘What’s eatin’ you?’
Ernesto wiped a hand down his face. He seemed unusually agitated; his bad mood far more transparent than it had been with Isaac moments earlier.
‘Have you managed to get anything more out of that blasted girl down there?’
‘About her sister?’ Polly twirled a curl around her finger with a satisfied smile as she stood before him. She liked it when Ernesto needed something from her; it gave her a chance to turn the tables on him for once. ‘I might have.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means have some patience. I ain’t no bleedin’ miracle worker.’
‘For Pity’s sake, all you have to do is ask her.’
‘She ain’t tellin’! It takes a woman’s cunning to get that sort of information.’
‘When you find one let me know,’ Ernesto muttered. Polly grinned. ‘I need that child,’ Ernesto said slowly. ‘The situation has developed and I need her quick.’
‘Situation?’ Polly frowned.
Ernesto waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. ‘Never mind that, you wouldn’t understand if I told you. Just find out where the infant is.’
‘How rich is this baby goin’ ter make you?’ Polly asked slowly.
Ernesto leapt from his seat and slammed a hand on the desk. ‘JUST FIND HER!’
‘I gotta go out for the day… alone.’ Polly announced at the door of the stable.
Isaac paused in his brushing of Chester. ‘Alone? But what about chores?’
‘You and Annie will have to do mine.’
Isaac’s jaw clenched but he said nothing on the subject of extra work. ‘Where are you going?’
‘There and back to see how far it is.’ Polly pulled her shawl tight over her shoulders.
‘You shouldn’t be out alone,’ Isaac said in a low voice. ‘Have you forgotten there are robbers on the roads?’
‘Unlike you,’ Polly said, tossing her hair back, ‘I have my wits about me.’
‘I don’t like it, Poll. What’s so important you got to go swanning off all by yerself?’
