ROSA LAY FULLY dressed on her bed until midnight. How could she resolve this impasse with Delia? One of them would have to leave, and Matthew had said to her, when Delia had turned her back on them and run upstairs, that if she, Rosa, should think of leaving, then he would follow her.
She gave a great sigh. I’ll have to talk to Gran, she thought. She’s old and wise, she’ll know what I should do. Unable to sleep, she rose from the bed and stood by the window. The mist was lifting, swirling around the yard as the breeze caught it. It hung over the roof of the barn, hovered cobweb-like across the tiles and, drifting down to the orchard, floated over the tops of the old apple trees. From the river she could hear the haunting cry of ships’ hooters reaching out in warning and she suddenly thought of the Dutch fluyt, moored out in the Humber, and again wondered why it was there.
I’m curious. I’ll go! I’ll go right now to see if it’s still there. It’s not so dark now that the mist is lifting. I’m wide awake, I’ll not sleep if I get into bed. She argued with herself as to why she should go. It was no business of hers, there were ships up and down the river all the time. What was so special about this one? But it was special. She felt strongly that it was, and not least because she was sure that it had been Mr Drew and Jim and one of the Byrne brothers who had been at Stone Creek, also looking towards it.
She put on her shawl and another pair of warm stockings and stealthily crept downstairs and into the kitchen, where her cloak was hanging behind the door. She put it on and another shawl around her head, and laced up her boots.
The door was still unfastened and she hoped that no-one would lock her out. The door creaked as she opened it and she stood and listened for a moment. It was quiet, no sound of movement from upstairs, and she wondered if Matthew had been able to sleep after the dispute with Delia.
The hens in the coop stirred and cackled quietly as she went past and the dogs, tied up in their kennels, thumped their tails slowly and sleepily. She bent down to pat their heads and moved on quietly until she reached the gate, which was open, and hurried along the familiar path by the side of the dyke towards the river.
She was breathless by the time she reached it for she had half run, half scurried in her eagerness to get there. The ship was still moored, silent, with the mist drifting about it and the water slapping against the hull, and no sign of life on board but a low light showing on deck, to warn other shipping of its presence. A red flag with a white circle in the centre flew from the masthead, but she didn’t know what it represented.
What was I expecting? she wondered. Why have I come? She looked down towards the creek and her attention was caught by another ship, a cutter, moored on the edge of the tiny harbour with no light showing, and a coggy boat low in the water, being rowed away from it towards the shore. As she watched, she heard the rattle of chain on a capstan, the anchor on the cutter was hauled and the vessel prepared to make sail. Two seamen were at the midships wheel and they steered a course to give a wide berth to the Dutch fluyt which rode gently on the current.
She climbed down from the embankment and walked below it, along the edge of the fields towards the creek. The ground was muddy and pulled squelchily at her boots, yet she plodded on. Who was rowing the coggy boat, she wondered, and why at this time of night? It had to be illegal, and smuggling was the first thing that came to her mind. Was this why my father came to Sunk Island? And if so, why did he choose to come here and not the port of Hull?
The ground was becoming more marshy and the water was lapping up to her ankles. She knew that she would soon have to stop and climb the embankment again and risk being seen by whoever was down by the water’s edge. She scrambled up on her hands and knees and peered towards the harbour. Three men with their backs to her were unloading goods from the coggy boat and, judging by the number of crates that were already stacked there, they had unloaded more than one consignment. Now they were lifting barrels off the coggy boat and transferring them to a nearby waggon.
She crouched, better to see the activity, and drew in her breath as they turned their heads. James Drew was one of the men, Jim was another and the third, she was sure, was Seamus Byrne.
‘Well, little lady. Have you seen enough?’ a voice whispered in her ear and she gave a sudden cry of fright as John Byrne grabbed her around the waist.
‘Oh! You frightened me!’ Her heart hammered furiously and she tried to pull his hands away from her waist. ‘Let go of me, please.’
He lifted her to her feet and turned her so that she was facing him. ‘Not until you tell me why you are here,’ he said softly. ‘You’re spying I think?’
‘No.’ She caught her breath. ‘I’m not. I wasn’t.’
He gave a little chuckle. ‘You wanted to know what your precious Drew family were up to, didn’t you? You were curious about this pious, God-fearing, hypocritical preacher by the name of James Drew, and his lily-livered son, weren’t you?’
Before she could deny it, he brought her closer to him and stared down into her eyes. ‘Is Jim your lover? Is that why you were watching? Did you wonder what he got up to at night when he should be sleeping the sleep of the just?’
‘No! No. How dare you! Let go of me.’ She struggled to get out of his grasp, but he held her fast.
‘I told you. I’ll let you go when you tell me why you are here. If it is not curiosity, then what is it? Hah!’ His eyes lit up with a sinister light. ‘You want to be part of it, don’t you? You want some of the excitement! You’re tired of the mundane life you are leading!’
‘No. No. No!’ She raised her voice. ‘If you must know I came to look at ’ship out yonder.’
‘The ship?’ A wariness came into his voice.
‘Yes.’ The word came out in a sob. ‘The Dutch fluyt. I wondered why it was here. I’ve seen it before.’
His fingers eased on her waist and she pulled away a little. ‘It’s an old ship,’ she started to explain, but he interrupted her.
‘I know it’s an old ship, but how do you know it?’ His words were rough and demanding.
‘I – I’ve seen it here before,’ she said. ‘I saw it for ’first time when I was just a child. Henry told me that it was a Dutch fluyt.’
‘Henry?’
‘Jim’s brother. He’s dead now. He drowned in a dyke.’
‘Ah, yes.’ He dismissed Henry with a shrug. ‘When did you next see it?’
It was when I was with Matthew, she remembered. When he insisted that we went walking because I said I was missing the river. ‘It was a while ago,’ she said. ‘Just before I met you and your brother at Hawkins Point.’
‘Hmm.’ His eyes pierced into hers. ‘Do you know whose ship it is?’
She shook her head. ‘No! Why should I? I know nothing about ships.’
He gave a cynical smile. ‘Even though your father was a sailor?’
Her eyes opened wide. ‘I don’t know if he was a sailor,’ she said. ‘I only know that you told me that he was a smuggler! You probably know more about him than I do. He’s a mystery to me and to others on Sunk Island.’
‘But not to James Drew or his son?’
‘I believe that they met him, yes. But they don’t talk about him.’
‘And they don’t talk about his ship? The ship that was confiscated with me and my brother and the run goods on board!’
As he spoke he turned towards the river and the fluyt, which was clearer to see now that the mist was lifting. Rosa glanced at him and saw how his eyes narrowed as he gazed at the vessel.
She drew in a breath. ‘What are you trying to say? That isn’t—? But how? If it was—’ Her words dried up. Was this why she had such a strange sensation each time she had seen the ship?
‘That’s it, all right. I’d know it anywhere, I spent enough time on it.’ His voice dropped. ‘I loved that ship as if it was my very own.’ He nodded his head as if lost in thought, then said, ‘Revenue men must have sold it on, probably to a foreign buyer. But now it’s back on its old hunting ground, but who, I wonder, is its captain?’
She gazed across at it. Was it true what he said? Could she believe him? Was this really once her father’s ship? She felt her lips trembling and she was full of emotion, but she was suddenly rudely jostled by Byrne, who took her arm and marched her along the embankment.
‘Come on, enough of this reminiscing,’ and she knew that he was speaking of his own memories and not of hers. ‘We’ll go and meet the rest of the family.’
Jim and James Drew straightened up and looked round as John Byrne approached, then, as Jim saw who was with him, being so roughly mishandled, he charged forward.
‘What do you think you’re doing,’ he yelled. ‘Get off her! Let her go.’
Byrne gave a mocking smile and kept hold of Rosa’s arm. ‘Yours, is she, Jim? She’s just denied it!’ But his words were cut short as Jim hurled himself towards him and aimed a blow at his face. Rosa fell to the ground as Byrne released his grip, but was brought to her feet by Seamus Byrne who surveyed her coldly, no ready smile in his eyes as there had been on other occasions when he had greeted her. James Drew just stood as if made of stone, his hand on a wooden cask.
‘You beggarly heathen!’ Jim aimed another blow at John Byrne, who retaliated with a fist to his chin. ‘Why bring her into it? I warned you before.’
Seamus Byrne stepped aside from Rosa and with a swift movement made to separate the brawling men. He put his arms between them, a hand on each chest, and said quietly, ‘Will you leave your fighting till we get this stuff away! It’ll be light before long and the fishermen will be here.’
The two men drew back, breathing heavily, and eyed each other. ‘He’d no right to bring her here,’ Jim said bitterly. ‘This isn’t woman’s work.’
John Byrne smirked. ‘I didn’t bring her here. She was here already. I found her up on the embankment watching what was going on.’
Jim turned to Rosa. ‘Is this true, Rosa?’
Her mouth trembled. ‘I came to see the ship.’ She pointed out to the river. ‘I wanted to see if it was still here.’
‘Why?’ Seamus Byrne asked, his haste to be away seemingly forgotten. His eyes focused steadily on her.
‘I don’t know why,’ she confessed. ‘There’s something about it that intrigues me.’
‘The little woman is fey!’ Seamus said cynically. ‘A visionary perhaps? Do you see spirits within the shadows? Do you see your father on the ship, his dark hair blowing in the breeze and a gold ring in his ear?’
She shook her head and glanced towards Jim, who was clenching his fists together.
‘No.’ She was frightened. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I mean,’ he drew nearer to her, ‘that we are all intrigued by that ship. That ship that was once your father’s.’
‘Can we get on?’ James Drew spoke for the first time. ‘Let’s get ’waggon away. You can talk later.’
John Byrne strode across to him. ‘You don’t like to discuss our friend Carlos, do you, Mr Drew? Is that because he’s still around? Because you are still doing business together? Is it unfortunate that his ship should sail in just when we happen to be here?’
‘You’re talking rubbish!’ Drew spluttered. ‘It’s nearly twenty years since Carlos was here. That ship has probably been sold half a dozen times since ’Customs requisitioned her. Besides, that’s not Carlos’s flag. It’s a house flag.’
‘We know it isn’t his flag!’ John Byrne’s voice cracked in a sudden explosion of virulence. ‘But I’m going to tell you and your precious son something, Mr Drew! I don’t trust you! I didn’t trust you before and with good reason, and I don’t trust you now. I wouldn’t put it past you to have informed the authorities about my brother and me!’
James Drew started to protest and Jim moved forward towards John Byrne. But he, with a swift movement, leaned towards Rosa and pulled her to his side. ‘So, what I aim to do, if we can’t have Carlos, then we’ll have his daughter.’
With one hand he smoothed Rosa’s head, with the other he held her fast. ‘She’s our hostage in a sense, until the goods are safely on their way.’
‘You can’t.’ Jim defied him. ‘She’d be missed. ’Constables would be all over ’island if word got out that she was missing.’
‘She won’t be missing,’ he replied softly. ‘She can stay at home and I’ll come every day to make sure that all is going as we planned. The waggons will come from Hull in a week’s time to collect the goods.’ There was a threat in his smile as he turned to Rosa. ‘And I’ll come a-courting my lovely. If there’s a whisper gets out to the law,’ his eyes glittered and fell on Jim, ‘she comes with us when we flee and you’ll not see her again.’
Rosa was sent on her way home alone and each time she turned her head, John Byrne was watching her. She slipped and stumbled as she ran along the embankment and floundered and splashed through the marsh in her desire to put a great distance between herself and him. He had put an icy fear into her, for she was in no doubt that he would have no pity on her if, as he suggested, the constables had been warned.
Would Mr Drew do that? Would he pretend that he was helping the Byrnes when all the time he was tricking them so that they would fall into the hands of the law? And he has been involved with them before! A previous conversation with John Byrne and Jim came jumbling into her mind and she shook her head to clear it. Mr Drew is not what he seems. Yet he is such an upright, uncompromising man! He surely would not tolerate unlawfulness. But yet he is there now, unloading smuggled goods!
The answer came clear as the strike of a bell as she stumbled through the gate and into the farmyard. The Byrnes have something against him, or something against Jim, and they are forcing them to help them. I know it. She felt a great heaviness come over her as she lifted the sneck on the door. It’s something to do with my father.