Rosa's Island (36 page)

‘Yes?' Matthew said, lifting his head from his deep contemplation of his fingernails. ‘What have you been thinking?'

She knew that he had been angered by the revelation that his father had been involved in the smuggling with the Byrne brothers, and feared that he would be made angrier still by what she had to say now. But it had to be said. She kept her voice low, conscious that Mr Drew was in the house.

‘Jim said – that your father had searched Marsh Farm for a sighting of John Byrne.'

‘Yes, I know he did.' He gazed at her questioningly. ‘He said there was no sign of him.'

‘Why wouldn't he let anyone else search?'

Matthew shrugged. ‘We were all looking elsewhere.'

‘He wouldn't let 'Patrington constable look either.'

He frowned. ‘What are you suggesting?' His face darkened. ‘Not that Da's harbouring him?'

‘No. No!' She was quick to refute it. ‘It's just that – well, your da will never let anyone near the place, only Jim – and I wondered,' she hesitated and he urged her on with a gesture. ‘I'm probably wrong, but do you think that the smuggled goods are being kept there?'

‘Good God!' His mouth dropped open and he whispered, ‘You're right, Rosa. ‘Barn is padlocked and Da has the key and he's never locked it before. That's why he wouldn't let 'constable take a look!' He pondered for a moment, then rose from the table. ‘I'm going over.'

‘Will you ask your da for the key?'

‘No,' he said grimly. ‘I won't. I have a sharp axe which will split 'chain on 'padlock. I'll not be put off, which is what he would try to do. I'll not be kept out.'

‘And what will you do then?' she asked. ‘Report your father and Jim to the authorities? They'll go to prison if you do!'

He stopped in his tracks and stood nonplussed
for a moment, then said, ‘Folks who live near 'sea or river's edge have often been involved in smuggling. An anker of brandy, a bit of baccy, and it doesn't do a deal of harm. But we're talking of more than that. You said you'd seen crates coming ashore, so that's a big venture and if Da is storing it, then he's as involved and as guilty as those who bring it in.'

‘So, you'd tell?' She spoke quietly. Matthew was so straight and honest, always so open, no covering up mistakes, no subterfuge. Yet she couldn't think that he would report his father and brother to the law.

He sat down again and put his head in his hands. ‘I don't know! How can I, Rosa? Why? Why does he have to do it? He doesn't need any money. Why is he taking such a risk? He could lose 'farm. We could all lose 'farm! 'Crown agents won't let any of us stay if there's 'least sniff of dishonesty.'

Rosa was aghast. The possibility of losing the farm hadn't entered her head. But it was true. The farms had to be run satisfactorily or the leases could be terminated.

‘What shall we do?' she whispered.

He got to his feet again. ‘I'm going anyway. I have to know. If 'goods are there I shall confront him, make him get rid of them somehow or other. I have to get to 'bottom of this, and if we're wrong then I'll apologize to him for my mistaken beliefs.'

‘I'll come with you.' She hurriedly reached for her thick outdoor shawl.

‘No!' he said. ‘You won't.'

‘I will,' she parried. ‘It's dark and John Byrne might be out there.'

He gave her a quick smile. ‘And you'd defend me against him, would you?'

‘Yes,' she said softly. ‘Of course I would.'

He looked at her tenderly. ‘If he's out there, all the more reason why you should stay here with 'door locked.'

‘I'm coming with you,' she determined. ‘I've made up my mind.'

‘Will you always come with me, Rosa?' he asked. ‘Even if we have to leave Sunk Island?'

She was about to reply when they heard footsteps on the stairs and Delia came into the room looking tired and dejected. Matthew turned towards her. ‘Delia. I'm going across to Marsh Farm and Rosa's coming to pick up Jim's washing,' he lied, harmlessly. ‘Will you lock 'door behind us and wait up 'till we get back?'

‘Now?' she griped. ‘Why can't Jim bring it in 'morning? I don't like stopping on my own.'

‘You'll not be on your own,' Rosa said quickly, ‘your da's upstairs, and Jim keeps forgetting to bring his dirty clothes across. You know I keep asking him.'

Delia shrugged. ‘Do as you like,' she muttered. ‘I couldn't care less what you do. It doesn't make any difference what I say or think anyway. I'm a nobody in this house. Of no importance whatsoever.'

‘That's not true, Delia,' Matthew retaliated. ‘Look, I'll talk to you when I get back.'

She didn't answer and turned her back on
them and sat down by the fire, only nodding when Matthew reminded her to lock the door.

‘Should we go for Jim?' Rosa asked as they hurried along, and she pulled her shawl around her. A strong chill wind had sprung up, whistling about them.

‘No, he'd onny try to put me off going. There's summat Jim isn't telling me; some secret.'

Yes, Rosa agreed silently. There is, there always has been. For many years.

There was a full moon but it was hidden by dark buffeting clouds. Streaks of light appeared intermittently, giving the clouds a halo of silver but shedding no luminance on the land, and they had to take care where they put their feet. Matthew carried a lantern and also the axe which he had picked up from the woodstore. Rosa took hold of his elbow. ‘Watch your feet,' she murmured. ‘That's what my ma used to say whenever we went down to 'river bank.'

‘Do you still miss her?' Matthew asked softly. ‘I still miss my ma.'

‘I can hardly remember her,' she admitted, ‘but strangely I feel her presence, as if she hasn't gone. And,' she paused, ‘even though I didn't know my father at all, I feel as if he is still here too. There have been so many sailors and fishermen washed up here on 'shore and yet his body was never found.'

‘Mebbe you like to feel that he's still here?' he said. ‘Mebbe you don't want to think that he's dead.'

‘Yes.' She looked up at him. ‘Perhaps that's it.' Have I inherited this forlorn hope from
my mother? she thought. Is that why I can't commit myself to Matthew? ‘Fred hasn't brought those papers back from the lawyer yet,' she commented. ‘I hope they haven't lost them.'

As they approached Marsh Farm, Rosa took the lantern from Matthew whilst he lifted the heavy iron latch and opened up the gate. They crossed the rectangular yard containing the pig pen and straw shelter, and approached the barn which was under the same roof as the house itself. The granary was built at the side of the barn but at a slightly lower level. ‘I'll take a look in 'barn first,' Matthew whispered. ‘Then up in hayloft. You stay here.'

He smashed the chain holding the padlock with one swoop of his axe and opened the door. He propped the axe against the wall and taking the lantern stepped inside the timber-framed barn. The last time he had been inside they had been threshing and were choked by the dust, even though the heavy wooden doors were propped open. There had been only a small corn harvest at Marsh Farm and he remembered that his father had insisted that the threshing was done immediately, rather than wait for the winter months as they usually did. Now each of the three bays was swept clean, a box waggon and a two-wheeled hay cart in one of them, some stacks of straw in another. The flails were hanging from hooks on the wall and the winnowing baskets stacked neatly in a corner.

There were no cattle or horses kept here since Mr Drew had taken over the farm, and no hens or ducks either as there had been in Mr
Jennings's time, and Matthew thought it strange that Jim hadn't seen fit to keep any. He had some pigs, four sows in litter and a boar, but had said that he didn't want to increase the stock and always sent off the young pigs to market as soon as they were ready. His heart isn't in it, Matthew thought as he climbed the ladder to the hayloft, yet it was once a good holding.

He lifted his lantern and at a cursory glance there was nothing unusual to be seen, just rusty old tools that had once belonged to Rosa's grandfather, scythes, sickles and hay forks. A pile of rope lay coiled up in a corner alongside some corn sacks and potato baskets. There was no winter bedding as there were no animals kept there, but a number of wooden crates were stacked side by side beneath the wooden rafters, half hidden by sacking.

Rosa waited inside the door of the barn. Though the surroundings were familiar to her, she felt uneasy. She wasn't normally of a nervous disposition, but there were rattles and clatterings as the wind rushed around the yard, clanking the lids on iron buckets and blowing twigs and branches everywhere, and she could hear the creaking of the boards in the hayloft as Matthew moved about.

She kept her hand on the heavy door to stop it banging and looked up the ladder. She could just see the halo of light from the lantern, but everything else was in pitch darkness. She glanced over her shoulder: the moon was hidden again by thick cloud, and the air was heavy in spite of
the wind. She gave a sudden gasp as a shadow loomed in the yard behind her. ‘Jim! Is that you?'

‘No, my darling.' A soft voice answered her and her mouth was covered by a rough hand. ‘It's not your precious Jim. It's your old friend John Byrne.'

She tried to bite his hand as he picked her up with his other arm and carried her towards the granary, but he appeared not to feel the pain for he laughed softly and neither stumbled or panted as he took her through the open door.

‘Now, promise you won't scream or shout and I'll take my hand away,' he murmured. ‘If you do, it'll be the worse for that fine young fellow back there.'

She nodded. His face was close to hers and his hand was tight against her cheeks. Slowly he removed it, then gently smoothed her face. ‘What soft skin, Rosa! Soft and blooming like rose petals. Is that where you got your name, I wonder.'

She shook her head. She was trembling so much that she couldn't speak.

‘Why, I could die happy if I could but kiss that unblemished skin.' He whispered, yet his tone was menacing.

‘Please don't,' she begged. ‘I wouldn't want you to.'

‘Ah!' She felt his breath on her face as he spoke, and he still had his arm around her. ‘Not like Delia, then? She wanted me to.' He ran his fingers around her waist. ‘Delia wanted me to do
all kinds of things.' Then he drew back and, as he did, the moon came from behind the clouds and shone a bright path into the granary. She saw that his red hair was matted and his face was grimy, and she shuddered. The thought of him touching her horrified her.

‘But you wouldn't want that, would you, Rosa? You'd want to keep yourself pure for someone special?'

‘Yes,' she whispered. ‘I would.'

He nodded. ‘I respect that, Rosa, though I'd be disappointed that I wasn't the one. Still,' she saw his eyes gleam, ‘if that raw youth searching in the barn amongst my things decides to cause trouble, then I might think fit to take you along with me, and who knows what might happen if we were alone together?' His voice was intimidating and she could feel her fear growing stronger. ‘Men are such weak creatures, it would be more than I could bear having such beauty beside me.'

He drew her towards the door and, putting both hands around her waist, said softly, ‘Now that we've had our little chat, I want you to shout to – Matthew, isn't it? Listen,' he cocked his head. ‘I can hear him. Tell him to come at once.'

‘You'll not hurt him? Please don't! He's done nothing.'

‘He hasn't, has he? Not like some people I know. But I want him to help me. He's such a fine fellow I'm sure he'll be glad to. Go on.' His voice became rough. ‘Shout!'

Matthew stepped across to the crates and saw that they were sealed by wooden locks. He'd left his axe below and, looking around for something to open them, found a spanner lying on top of the sacks. He swung it against one of the locks and it cracked open. He lifted the lid. In the crate, packed in cotton cloth, were rolls of fabric. He rubbed his fingers against one of them. It was soft and fine and, holding up his lantern, he saw that it was a rich red. He pulled up a fold of another roll, a cream colour and thicker in texture.

Is it silk, I wonder? He opened another crate and the sweet rich aroma of tobacco came drifting out, as it did in the third crate. There were two more larger crates. He smashed open one which had an iron lock on it and took a deep breath as he saw that it too was filled with sacks of tobacco. ‘Oh, Da,' he breathed. ‘What have you done?'

He called down the ladder to Rosa. ‘Rosa! You were right. It's all up here.'

She didn't reply so he called again. ‘Rosa!' Still no answer and he wondered if she had been disturbed by Jim returning home from the Ship. I'll have summat to say to him, he thought, as he ran easily down the ladder. The door was open but Rosa was not there beside it and he called again, more urgently, and held up the lantern as there was very little light coming in from the open door.

She wasn't there. Nor was she in the yard. He walked towards the granary and saw that the door was ajar. His heart started to beat faster as
he thought of John Byrne. ‘Rosa!' He lifted his voice to a shout. ‘Where are you?'

‘Matthew! I'm here.' Her voice sounded thin and frightened and came from behind the granary door. ‘Don't come in!'

THE MOON SLID
behind a cloud again and Matthew held the lantern high. Rosa stood in the doorway of the granary and John Byrne was behind her, one hand resting familiarly on her shoulder.

‘Let her go!' Matthew's voice was full of controlled anger. ‘What sort of a man are you to hide behind a woman?'