I did not want to leave my mother to face the Kincaids and Malcolm Black alone, but I had promised to do as she asked, and so when she thrust her package at me and told me to hide, I did.
I ran down the stairs and out the back door to the cottage, into our large garden. It was dark and I had no candle but I knew where to go. I felt the ground beneath my feet, welcoming me, and the cats’ eyes shone in the moonlight and showed me the way. I reached the goat shed and threw myself on to the earth, then wriggled on my belly like a worm into the space beneath the wooden floor. There was a gap beneath the shed, large enough for me to fit in nicely. I used to play in there when I was a wee girl, hiding from Ma when she wanted me to practise my reading or help her with cleaning. If you knew it was there, you could see it, but the grass was overgrown and it was dark outside, so I thought I would be safe. When I was safely inside, two or three of the cats came and lay down by the gap, hiding it from view. I felt a rush of love for the creatures. I didn’t want to leave them behind and I hoped that we wouldn’t have to leave.
I heard the horses come nearer, then shouts and the sound of a sharp rapping at the door. I heard talking and the whistle of a riding crop through the night air and my mother crying out, and I wanted to go to her, to help, but I knew she would be angry. I tried to gather my rage, and focus on stopping the men – the way I had when I was at the big house listening to the Kincaid brothers – but I was too scared.
I listened as they took Ma away, and as the horses set off, I crawled out of my shelter, scurrying through the darkness with all senses alert in case anyone had stayed behind to look for me. I watched the horses disappear into the night – just two of them. When I’d felt the impending danger, I’d expected more of them. The men of the town council, led by Malcolm Black and the Kincaid brothers. But now I could only see two shadowy figures. There was Malcolm Black, his floppy hat silhouetted against the moonlight, and Gregor Kincaid with Ma sitting on his horse in front of him.
‘Just the two of them,’ I whispered to myself. That was interesting. In fact, it gave me a tiny glimmer of hope, like the soft light of dawn in the darkness. Malcolm Black’s horse whinnied and, nervous, I scuttled back to the safety of the goat shed. I stayed there, hidden under the shed, until the sky began to lighten from murky black to deepest grey, and I heard the squawk of the seagulls and knew morning was approaching.
Ma had told me to leave. To hide myself in a cart leaving town and go north where it was safer. But I wasn’t going to do that. I was not going to flee like a frightened rabbit and leave Ma to face whatever dreadful punishment Malcolm Black decided would suit her. No. Because I had read the book that Christy gave me. I had waded through the lines of dry and dull court reports, without even really knowing why. And now, because I had read the book, I had a plan.
But before anything else, I needed an outlet for my anger. I firmly believed this was Davey Kincaid’s fault and I was going to make sure he knew he was to blame. I wanted him to carry Ma’s fate on his back for the rest of his life. I wanted the guilt to weigh him down. And I was going to tell him that.
So, as the shouts of the fishermen coming home echoed through the quiet, early morning streets, I left my hiding place and ran upstairs to where I’d stowed Christy’s book. Then I pulled my cloak around me, and walked across our garden, past the churchyard, and up to the big house. It was shrouded in darkness, the only lamps burning were at the front door and in the kitchen window. I would go round the back way, I thought. The back entrance would be open.
Sure enough, the door was not locked. A man – a servant judging by his clothes – slept in a chair by the fire, but he didn’t stir as I walked past. I knew the layout of the house from the night the fever came, so I went out into the wide hall and up the stairs. It was still dark, but I didn’t seem to need to light my way; I just knew where to tread. My footsteps were silent and no one was around as I made my way upstairs to Davey’s room.
Outside his door, I paused for a second, wondering if he’d wake with a start and call out for help. I hoped not. I wanted to speak to him, not be dragged away before I got to say my piece.
Taking a deep breath, I turned the handle and went inside. To my surprise, Davey was not in the large bed, but instead standing by the window, looking out over the dark town and to the sea beyond. He turned as I entered and nodded to me, then focused his attention back on the view.
Nonplussed by his lack of reaction, I stayed where I was, unsure how to proceed.
‘They have taken her to the jail,’ he said, eventually, as though I’d asked a question.
‘My mother?’
He turned properly now and looked straight at me. ‘My brother and his witch finder, Malcolm Black, have taken your mother from her home and thrown her in jail.’
‘Because of you.’ My voice was clear and icy cold. I wanted my words to wound Davey like darts.
‘No,’ he said.
‘They took her because of you. You are the one who asked her to come and care for Christy and you are the one who denied her at the council meeting.’
Davey’s eyes narrowed and then he nodded. ‘You are right to judge.’
‘Because you are to blame.’
‘I let her down.’
‘Is there a difference?’
‘Perhaps not.’ Davey’s shoulders slumped. ‘But I did what I thought was best. If I had stood beside her at the meeting, then I would be in jail now, too.’
‘Hardly,’ I scoffed. ‘Not when your brother holds the key. He bailed you out before and he’d do it again.’
‘You know about that?’
I shrugged. ‘Everyone knows about your gambling habit. It wasn’t hard to work out the rest.’
Davey sighed. ‘My brother despises me. He sees me as a cross he has to bear and he hates that I have a son and he doesn’t. He’d see me hang without blinking and then he’d take Christy as his own.’
I stared at him. He was playing me for a fool, surely? Pretending to be on my side, then he’d call for his servants and before I knew it I would be in jail with my mother. But he sounded plausible. And I knew Gregor was cold-hearted and self-absorbed.
‘Alice,’ Davey said. He sounded desperate. ‘You must believe me. I didn’t want any of this to happen. I thought I could talk Gregor round, convince him that this wasn’t the way to do what he wants.’
‘What does he want?’ I said, but I knew the answer.
‘To dredge the harbour. He believes your mother is the reason no one approved his plans at the meeting.’
‘No one wants the harbour dredged,’ I hissed. ‘Those plans are madness. They will make Gregor rich and the town poor because they will destroy the fishing trade.’
‘I know.’ Davey looked wretched. ‘Gregor only sees money. I thought that when your mother came, the night of the fever, he might understand that she was a good person and change his mind about the plans …’
‘You called on her deliberately?’ I said, shocked. ‘You brought her here to help you talk your brother out of his greedy plan?’
‘No,’ Davey shouted. ‘No, not at all. I brought her here because my son was dying and I knew she was the only one who could help. But then Isobel died, and Gregor was so angry. She was the only one keeping his avarice in check. With her gone, he has nothing to lose. He hates that a woman stands between him and riches.’
‘And Malcolm Black simply hates women,’ I said, understanding.
My legs felt weak. Malcolm Black and Gregor Kincaid were driven by hatred and my mother was in their sights.
‘They’re going to kill her.’
Davey looked startled at my blunt words. ‘I fear so.’
‘And when they’ve killed her, they will come for me.’
‘Yes.’
‘You could call Gregor now. Tell him that I am here.’
‘I could,’ Davey said. ‘But I won’t. You must trust me, Alice. I’m on your side.’
I felt strangely calm as I looked at Davey carefully, closing my eyes so I could feel his emotions. Perhaps it was foolish, perhaps I was signing my own death warrant, but all I could sense within him was pain. I thought about Ma telling me that he was a good man, and I nodded slowly. Ma understood people – she had been right about Kyla, after all. It seemed she was right about this too.
Slowly, I opened my eyes. Davey was watching me curiously but with no malice in his expression.
‘Do you trust me?’ he asked again.
‘Do you trust me?’ I said. ‘Because I have a plan but I need you with me.’
‘I will stand beside you, Alice. If you stand by me.’
I nodded. ‘I will. But know this, Davey Kincaid. If you betray me, I will bring down every plague, every misery, every sorrow on your head.’
Davey raised an eyebrow. ‘Do not let Gregor hear your threats of witchcraft,’ he said. ‘He will assume you mean it.’
I took a step towards him. ‘I mean it,’ I said. Davey shrunk away from me and I grabbed his elbow and pulled him closer again. ‘Don’t test me, Davey.’
He held my gaze for a second or two and then he nodded. ‘You are a terrifying enemy, Alice. I’m glad we are on the same side.’
I let go of his arm and stepped away from him, looking out at the town, which was beginning to wake up as dawn broke. ‘We don’t have long,’ I said. ‘The trial will begin shortly.’
Davey ran his fingers through his hair. ‘What is your plan? Should we go to the jail? Can you do something …?’
‘Shh,’ I said. ‘I am thinking.’
Davey clamped his lips together.
‘There were fifteen or more men at the council meeting,’ I began. ‘Many men.’
Davey nodded.
‘I don’t remember the witch-hunts that happened before, because I was only young, but I do know that they spread like the fever spread through your household. I know that women confessed, or pointed the finger at others, and soon there were thirty or forty people accused. No one ever stayed quiet. It was accuse others, or be accused yourself.’
‘I remember,’ Davey said. ‘Stories from Prestonpans and elsewhere. Like a plague ravaging these towns.’
‘And yet, only Gregor and Malcolm Black came to take Ma.’ I lifted my chin. ‘And that is important.’
‘I can help.’ A small voice spoke from the door of the room and we both turned. There was Christy, his little face serious. ‘I can help you,’ he said again.
‘No.’ Davey went to his son. ‘This is no fight for a child. Especially one who is still recovering from illness.’
But Christy scoffed. ‘I’m fine. And I’m 12 years old and Alice is only a little older.’
‘Christy …’
‘I know what Uncle Gregor has done and I know why.’
Davey blinked at him. ‘Really?’
‘I know he wants to dredge the harbour.’
‘How do you know that?’
Christy smiled. ‘I am quiet and still and I listen when people don’t think I’m listening.’ I caught the boy’s eye and gave him an encouraging nod. ‘And I like Widow Seton and I want to help.’
Davey looked at me and I smiled. ‘Seems to me we need as many people on our side as possible,’ I said. ‘But Christy’s already helped, more than you know.’
Christy came properly into the room and I saw he was fully dressed, despite the early hour. ‘Do you have the book?’ he said.
‘I do.’
‘Did you read it?’
‘I did.’
‘I wanted you to read it, in case it was useful. Was it useful?’
‘Yes.’ I turned to Davey. ‘We have an idea,’ I said.