Blood Bond (9 page)

The threat was sobering; it confirmed that Corky had firearms.

‘What about some food and water?' Allison called. ‘We can't get back to New Zealand without it.'

The tall woman whispered in Corky's ear. ‘Ten of you on board, including the two young boys — am I right?'

‘Eleven — no, ten,' agreed Mark, who realised Corky must also possess a powerful pair of binoculars.

‘My sheilas will row you out some supplies shortly. Enough to get you back across the ditch — providing you sheep-shaggers will eat dried roo and dugong, of course. Lift your anchor as soon as the food and water's been delivered and don't come back. And I'm warning you, I'll be watching. Come back and I'll blow that little runt's head off. And if any of you set foot ashore you'll get the same treatment.'

 

As they waited for the supplies to arrive, Steven and Mark retired to
Archangel
's foredeck to discuss the situation and try to find a solution. They tossed around ideas, considering the pros and cons.

As they talked, two boats were launched and anchored just off the beach. With Corky looking on, a procession of women and children carried an assortment of supplies down to the water's edge and loaded them into one of the two boats. Then four women, including the tall woman who seemed to be Corky's foreman and favourite, and a
young girl jumped aboard the second boat and rowed out towards
Archangel
, towing the boat of supplies behind them.

Mark reached his decision as the boats came alongside. He sent Steven aft to supervise the transfer of the provisions and beckoned Luke to join him on the foredeck.

‘We're going to have to leave your brother here,' he explained. ‘Corky, or whatever his real name is, is dangerous. If we try to get Robert back now there'll be real trouble. Someone could easily get killed. Do you understand?' Luke nodded. ‘We will come back for him. But we'll have to wait until Corky's dropped his guard.'

‘How long before we come back?'

‘A month, maybe two or three — it depends on how we find the situation when we reach Gulf Harbour.'

There was much excitement and chatter between the Aboriginal women and the crew of
Archangel
as the supplies and water were passed aboard. Tommy jumped down into the lead rowing boat to talk to the little girl and stroke her pet koala.

‘Come here, Lee,' Mark said sharply, as the second boy began to clamber over the lifeline to join his cousin. Disappointed, Lee went to Mark, who knelt down and talked to him earnestly. Then Lee scampered back along the deck and jumped down into the rowing boat. One of the Aboriginal women made a fuss of the two boys, sitting them on her knee and holding them close to her naked body.

Mark talked briefly to Steven, who then took Penny up to the foredeck.

‘I'm sorry — we need more water,' Mark said as the last of the supplies were lifted aboard.

Fergus, who knew the tanks had been almost filled with rainwater, was about to speak but noticed Mark looking intently in his direction.

‘Please get us some more water?' Mark asked.

‘All right,' said the taller woman reluctantly. ‘But Corky won't like it.'

‘Back aboard,' Jessica called down to Tommy. Grudgingly, the little boy did as he was told.

‘Can I go ashore and see the other koalas?' Lee called up to his mother.

Jessica looked at Penny, incredulous, as she nodded her head. The rowboats cast off with Lee still aboard.

‘I can't believe you've put Lee at risk like that,' Allison said to Mark when he explained his plan. Her disgust was directed as much at Penny and Steven as at Mark.

Mark's plan failed anyway. He had pointed out to Lee the bungalow where Robert and the aboriginal girl were holed up, and had told him to go straight there and deliver the message that Robert could return to
Archangel
and bring the girl with him. But the little boy, desperate for the toilet, had stopped off at the latrine at the top of the beach. He was spotted leaving by Corky, who chased him back to the rowboat before he could deliver the vital message. Mark watched disconsolately as the boats headed back out towards
Archangel
, Lee firmly aboard.

But there was another surprise in store.

‘Can I come with you?' the tall woman asked Mark once the loading of the additional water was complete. She was sporting a swollen eye where Corky had hit her for allowing Lee ashore.

Mark was flummoxed by the question but quickly regained his composure. ‘Of course you can.'

‘Can I come too?' asked a second woman.

‘Sure.' The two women stowed their oars and clambered aboard. ‘What about the rest of you?' Mark asked.

‘I want to,' said the little girl.

‘You can't,' said her mother sternly, remaining in the rowboat. The fourth woman shook her head too.

‘Lee, get back on board,' Mark ordered, then addressed the crew. ‘Cast off the boats and lift the anchor.'

As soon as the anchor was up, Steven unfurled the foresail.

‘So where are we landing?' Allison asked Mark as
Archangel
turned away from the beach and gathered speed.

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well, obviously you're not going to leave Robert here.'

‘We've got no choice. Anyway, leaving him behind has its advantages.'

‘Advantages! Advantages for whom?'

‘For the human race. We've got to increase the odds, they need his genes, and we need theirs,' he said, pointing to the two women sitting on the cabintop. ‘Fair exchange is no robbery.'

‘I don't know about having a crucial gene,' Allison said angrily, ‘but you've got a flawed gene. You've left Robert to heaven knows what fate. And do you realise that woman's left two children behind?' she yelled, pointing at the shorter of the two women.

Mark did not respond. Allison took her jumper off and threw it at one of the women. ‘Cover yourself up,' she snapped.

‘Her children will be fine. The others will look after them,' Mark said, trying to keep his voice calm.

Allison disappeared through the hatchway. ‘Like my mother is being looked after, I suppose?' she screamed from the bottom of the steps.

The remainder of the crew looked on in astonishment, reinforced when Allison stuck her head through the hatch and threw a bundle of clothes at the second woman.

Embarrassed by the attack on his father, Steven turned and focused his binoculars on the rowing boats, which were now nearing the beach. What he saw through the glasses wasn't going to help.

‘You'd better have a look at the lead rowboat,' he said, handing the binoculars to his father. Mark zoomed in, looking at the two giggling young women rowing the boat. Then he noticed the little girl clutching the koala, peering over the gunwales. She was talking to Luke, who was clinging to the stern.

With Duncan managing the work rosters designed by Diana, Haver was soon operating efficiently once again despite the reduced labour pool. The work was hard and the days long, but the farm and the gardens continued to flourish.

Nigel had decided that peasants did not require an education. However, under the guidance of Diana, rudimentary schooling was provided for the children, with an hour's lessons being given each evening after their twelve-hour workday. She was determined that all the children should be able to read and write and at least master the basics of mathematics. Diana continued to organise the kitchens, the laundry and to ensure that the staterooms were up to Nigel's exacting standards. And, of course, she also had to make sure the Chatfields' sexual needs were satisfied.

Nigel and his sons continued to live a life of idleness. Occasionally they would leave the thousand-acre deer park on a foraging expedition, but their days were mainly spent playing bowls, practising archery, hunting in the park and generally amusing themselves. When it
rained, they retired indoors while their relatives toiled in the fields and gardens, soaked to the skin. Safe from the elements, the Chatfield brothers and their father would amuse themselves playing cards, board games and billiards under the watchful eyes of the British aristocracy, whose portraits lined the oak-panelled walls.

‘Do we really need her hanging about all the time?' Damian asked his father one day, pointing at Mary-Claire. The men were playing billiards. The little girl was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her chin cupped in her hands, the lead from her dog collar tied to the arm of a richly upholstered seventeenth-century chair.

‘She's our insurance policy,' Nigel grunted.

‘She gets on my wick,' said Greg, who, unbeknown to his brothers, had been petitioned by Theresa for the little girl's release.

Jasper, who had been promised ‘something you'll never forget' by Jennifer as reward for Mary-Claire's return, seized the moment too. ‘There's no way Mark and his crew are coming back now. Without their Kiwi relations stirring them up, the peasants are as docile as sheep — they're not causing any more trouble. Mary-Claire's not contributing anything tied up like that. She should be working like the rest of them.'

‘We can continue to call her up to the table at mealtimes to taste the food,' Damian added.

‘I'll think about it,' Nigel said as he lined up his next shot.

 

In the Great Hall that evening, as the meal was drawing to a close, Nigel rose from his seat and banged his fist on the table. The chatter died down immediately.

‘Cheryl,' he barked. ‘Get up here.'

Wondering what she had done wrong, Cheryl rose from the table and timidly walked up to the dais where Nigel stood, towering above her.

‘You can have this lazy little bitch back,' he said, pointing at Mary-Claire. ‘We've had enough of her loafing around doing nothing. But just remember, if you or anyone else steps out of line, she'll get a good thrashing, and she'll be back on this lead.' He jerked Mary-Claire to her feet and then held out the lead to Cheryl, who bowed and took it.

‘Thank you, Your Lordship,' she said, trying but failing to hold back her tears of relief. Spontaneously the rest of the community, with the exception of Diana, began to clap. Diana was dumbfounded. All Nigel had done was to right his own wrong, yet her cousins were applauding him as if he had performed an act of unrivalled generosity!

Nigel slumped back down into his seat. ‘Stop your snivelling, woman. And by the way, you're to send her up here every mealtime. Do you understand?'

‘Certainly, Your Lordship,' Cheryl replied as the clapping subsided.

 

‘Well, are you pregnant?' Damian asked when Cheryl arrived at his quarters that evening.

‘I'm working on it,' Cheryl said.

‘Well, you'd better succeed — otherwise I'll talk my father into taking Mary-Claire back.'

Cheryl didn't argue — and decided not to threaten him again with the letter. There was no point. She was, however, worried. She knew her scarred body held little attraction for Jasper and Greg. Her options were limited to her uncle Duncan and to Nigel himself. Cheryl knew the other women were visibly shaken whenever they returned from Nigel's room, and the young twins Amy and Beatrice were completely terrified whenever Diana announced that Nigel required their services. It wasn't much of a choice.

 

‘Why doesn't Nigel ever call on Theresa?' Duncan challenged Diana angrily when his two nieces were summoned by Nigel for the third time in a week. ‘She should take her turn.'

‘It's not my decision, it's Nigel's. I don't know why he doesn't want her. It's probably got something to do with Miles — she was Miles's girl, after all.'

‘Then why doesn't he stop her sleeping with Greg?'

‘How should I know how his warped mind works?' Diana didn't feel inclined to tell Duncan that she doubted Nigel knew Greg was sleeping with Theresa. ‘Anyway, I can't stand here gossiping all day
— I've got work to do.' She turned and walked away, bringing the discussion to an end.

Diana did have work to do, but not sanctioned work. Once again Nigel had drunk too much wine with lunch and was sleeping it off. It was an ideal opportunity to press on with her secret project, which was becoming increasingly urgent.

She collected her feather duster and hurried along to the library to recommence the painstaking task of systematically removing each of the antique volumes from the shelves and scanning the title and contents pages. Occasionally her heart would race as an illustration or chapter heading suggested she may have found the information she needed. But then, after careful reading, her hopes would be dashed. She was already two-thirds of the way through the volumes and was beginning to despair of ever finding what she was looking for.

The chimes from the clock on Cromwell's Tower announced that it was three in the afternoon. She had already spent too long in the library. There was work to do in the kitchen preparing for dinner, and soon Nigel would be wandering around with a sore head. He had found her in the library a couple of times already and she was afraid that he was becoming suspicious.

There were only two small books remaining on the shelf she was currently reviewing. They were too small to be likely to hold the information she required, but her barrister's training to meticulously check every single document relating to a case forced her to look at them too.

As she opened the second book, she gasped. Her doggedness had been rewarded. Elated, she stuffed the tiny book into her tunic pocket.

 

Everyone noticed the change in Diana's demeanour over the following days. There was a spring in her step and sometimes even a smile on her face. Duncan was surprised when she first offered and then insisted she spend a couple of days working in the gardens and fields. He knew that while cleaning the staterooms and preparing the meals was hard work, it was not as strenuous as the manual labour required in the fields and gardens.

‘Why are you so cheerful?' Duncan demanded after she returned to the courtyard after her second day in the gardens.

‘Nothing in particular — just good to be out in the fresh air for a change,' Diana replied, sniffing the bunch of flowers and herbs she was carrying.

‘Well, I've got some bad news for you. Nigel's found out you've been working in the gardens and says you're to be employed on domestic duties only.'

Duncan was surprised when Diana simply shrugged her shoulders, smiled and said, ‘So be it.'

As a barrister, Diana knew the benefits of keeping knowledge to herself. But she also knew knowledge was power and, try as she might, it proved impossible for her to conceal the confidence that power brought her. Before the pandemic, this type of confidence had often been interpreted as smugness by her colleagues, and had irritated the other members of her chambers. Now her smugness was irritating Nigel and his sons.

 

The next morning, Diana delivered breakfast to the top table as normal. Mary-Claire had been summoned to the dais and was waiting to be fed. On the one hand the little girl had to suffer the ignominy of lapping milk from a dish and eating her food without utensils, but on the other she would enjoy a better breakfast than the rest of her family received.

‘What would you like her to taste today, Your Lordship?' Diana asked cheerfully as she removed the lids from the serving dishes.

‘Give her some milk.'

Diana poured milk into Mary-Claire's dish and put it on the floor. The little girl started lapping at the dish as Diana collected the other dish and a fork from the edge of the table.

‘Give her some of that,' Nigel said gruffly, pointing at the scrambled egg, ‘and one of those meat patties.' Diana took a generous helping of scrambled egg and then speared a patty with a fork and transferred it to the dish.

Damian pointed to the beans. ‘Give her some of those too.'

Diana smiled as she ladled a forkful of beans into Mary-Claire's
bowl. ‘Would you like to choose something for her, Sir Jasper?' she asked, but he dismissed her with a wave of his hand. She placed the dish on the floor beside Mary-Claire, bowed and backed away.

‘That woman's getting on my wick,' Jasper said, as Diana hurried back to the kitchens.

‘Mine too,' Damian said. ‘I reckon she's up to something.'

‘Don't worry, I'll soon wipe the smirk off her face,' Nigel said as he helped himself to an enormous breakfast. He glowered down at the peasants in the Great Hall below, eating their normal weekday breakfast of porridge, bread, butter, jam, honey and fruit. Peasants didn't need eggs and bacon, he thought. There were plenty of calories in porridge and bread, and if they were lucky he would allow them an egg as a treat on Sundays — unless of course someone upset him. Maybe he could contrive a situation where Diana committed a transgression, causing him to cancel the egg treat? That would take the smirk off her face and put her out of favour with her cousins. But no, he needed something much better to put Diana in her place.

 

‘Well,' Nigel demanded, glowering across the table at his three sons later that morning, ‘am I going to be a grandfather soon or not?' Their card game had finished. Greg, Jasper and Damian had let their father win as usual and now he was bored and seeking fresh amusement.

They all felt uneasy. They knew the pressure was on, not only to produce children, but to produce a grandson in particular. They also resented the fact that he was calling their manhood into question in front of the servants — Theresa and Susan were on their hands and knees at the other end of the gallery, polishing the floor. Their heads were down and they appeared to be intent on their work, but the young men had no doubt they were listening to Nigel's booming voice. They also sensed that Nigel wanted the women to hear him tormenting his sons.

‘I'm pretty sure I've got one up the chute,' Damian boasted.

‘Are you indeed!' exclaimed a surprised Nigel. ‘Who, exactly?'

‘Cheryl.'

Nigel was pleased. If it wasn't for her scars, he'd have considered Cheryl for himself. She had, after all, already produced two sons.
Nigel turned to Jasper, ‘What about you? You're not still knocking off Jennifer, are you?'

‘The last time I thought I'd fancy a bit of slap and tickle with her, she'd already been booked.' Jasper's words were laced with sarcasm.

Nigel decided to bluff it out. ‘Are you screwing the old bird?' he challenged Greg.

‘No, she's ancient.'

‘Of course he's not screwing Jennifer,' joked Damian, who was well aware of Greg's infatuation with Theresa. ‘The boy's in love.'

‘I don't need you falling in love, I need you to spread it around. We need more babies,' Nigel said sternly. ‘Who are you hooked up with anyway?'

Embarrassed, Greg glanced down at the floor. Then he looked down the gallery. ‘Theresa,' he said softly.

‘What!' Nigel exploded, jumping to his feet.

All three brothers were taken aback by their father's reaction. They had accepted that he wanted to preserve Miles's room as a shrine after his death, but surely he wasn't expecting them to respect Miles's partner, given his edict that they produce children? Nigel had shown Theresa no sympathy since his son's death, nor had he shown any interest in the two little girls Miles had fathered.

‘Theresa, get up here,' he bellowed. ‘And you,' he said, pointing to Susan, ‘get the hell out of here.' Susan scrambled to her feet as quickly as her arthritic knees would allow and hurried out of the gallery.

Theresa, terrified and trembling, hurried along the gallery towards Nigel and his sons. The three brothers, like Theresa herself, were unsure quite what she had done to incur Nigel's wrath.

‘What are you doing sleeping with Greg?'

‘He asked for me, Your Lordship,' she said softly, shaking with fear.

‘And did you tell him you had the clap?'

‘The what!' she exclaimed, indignation overcoming her fear.

‘I understand you've got the clap.'

‘What? Who said that?' she demanded angrily.

There was no disguising the sincerity in her voice. The truth dawned on Nigel. ‘Go to my room,' he said, his voice low and steely.
There was the look of vengeance in his eyes. Theresa started trembling again. ‘Go straight to my room. Don't you dare talk to anyone on the way. Get undressed and into bed and wait for me there.'

Meekly, Theresa turned and made her way from the gallery through the ballroom towards Nigel's quarters. The stories she had heard of how Nigel treated the women who had been sent to his room terrified her, compounding her misery.

‘Right,' Nigel said, turning to his sons. ‘Go down and send that bitch Diana up to me. Don't tell her what's just gone on here. I'm going to teach her a lesson she's never going to forget.'