Authors: Benita Brown
Tags: #Technology & Engineering, #Sagas, #Fisheries & Aquaculture, #Fiction
A Safe Harbour (21 page)
The silence from the house, the lack of reaction, incited the demonstrators to further fury. A voice angrier than the rest yelled out, ‘Hang Adamson!’
Others took up the chant. The home-made banners swayed furiously. Kate prayed that the men would soon wear themselves out. That they would be satisfied that they had made their point, that the shouting and fist-waving would stop and they would go home. If not, where would it end? The law had little mercy on rioters. They were imprisoned, transported or worse. They could be hanged themselves, never mind wanting to hang Adamson.
Then suddenly the shouting stopped and Kate held her breath when she saw why. The door was opening. Thomas and Matthew backed slowly down the steps, not taking their eyes off the door. Then everyone seemed to sigh on one breath and there was a collective growl of barely suppressed fury when they saw who was standing there. Richard Adamson.
He was formally dressed, and looked very grand in contrast to the men gathered before his house who were mostly in working clothes. Kate noticed, too, although she didn’t know why, that his hair was neatly arranged. His face showed no emotion, neither fear nor anger. Perhaps he was waiting for absolute silence before he spoke. But if that was the case, he didn’t get the chance. The crowd began to shout insults.
‘Coward!’
‘Adamson’s yellow!’
The chanting grew louder and Richard Adamson raised his hands as if to silence them. Someone shouted, ‘Go on then, speak!’ and the chants died away.
‘I have been part of this community for as long as you have,’ Richard said, and the men began to mutter. He raised his voice, ‘Our interests are the same. To make a living from the sea—’
‘If that’s the case,’ someone shouted, ‘why are you stealing our livings from us?’
‘Your only interest is greed,’ another man shouted.
And another, ‘Aye, you take all the herring with your damned trawlers and leave us none.’
‘Listen to me—’ Richard began.
‘No, you listen! Will you feed our bairns when there’s no money coming in?’ This time it was a woman who shouted.
‘You can’t stop progress—’ he began but, again, he wasn’t allowed to continue.
‘Will progress pay the rent?’ the same woman countered.
The crowd became restive and Kate thought Mr Adamson glanced towards the side window in the bay. Did she imagine it or had the lace curtain twitched? By now everyone was shouting again, even the women, and Kate edged away from them, wanting to distance herself from what was going on.
When she looked back at the house she received a shock. Richard Adamson was staring straight at her and, although she had no idea why, she found that disturbing. Did he think she was part of this? Was his look questioning or accusing? Almost immediately, she thought, Why should I care? These men and women have the right to feel aggrieved – to be angry. What could he possibly say to justify what he is doing?
The men were pushing forward now, with Thomas at the fore. Kate didn’t know whether Thomas meant to go up the steps or whether the force of the shoving had propelled him, but the next moment he was confronting Richard Adamson face to face. The crowd fell silent. They stared at each other, Thomas defiant, Richard Adamson grave. Then, perhaps distracted by the twitch of the lace curtain, Richard turned away. Thomas must have thought that he was going back into the house for he grabbed his shoulder and swung him round.
Kate would always believe that her brother meant only to talk to him – well, to shout at him, perhaps – but Richard Adamson must have thought he was under attack because he pushed Thomas away with all his might. Thomas went hurtling back down the steps into the arms of his fellow conspirators.
The resulting hush was momentary. For an instant she lost sight of Thomas, but he appeared again swiftly and she saw him raise his arm above his head. It was only when he drew his arm back for the throw that she saw he held a large stone. He must have taken it from the border of the garden.
Kate was horrified. She wanted to shout and tell him to come to his senses. To plead with him to think of their mother. Ask him if a few creels of herring were worth risking prison for – and maybe his life. But it was too late. The stone had already left his hand.
He didn’t aim at Richard Adamson. If he had, he couldn’t have failed to hit him. Kate saw at once that he meant only to attack the man’s property, not his person. When Thomas released his missile she held her breath, then watched in dismayed fascination as the stone arced through the air and crashed through the side pane of the bay window.
The angry voices faded. All heads turned towards the window. The glass had shattered and all but one large shard had fallen into the room. Kate could see splinters caught in the lace curtain. The remaining shard hung like a large dagger from the window frame. It swung backwards and forwards for a few seconds and then it fell outwards and shattered into fragments on the wide stone sill.
Richard Adamson stood as if frozen, staring at the broken window. The next moment the lace curtain was pulled aside. The woman who appeared there was not Richard Adamson’s mother. She was young and beautiful.
She was tall, maybe as tall as Kate herself. She wore an emerald green evening dress and a necklace of jet fashioned like a lace collar with a tassel falling down to nestle between the curves of her breasts. All this Kate took in in an instant. She also saw how pale the young woman’s complexion was. Maybe it seemed so in contrast to her raven-black hair, or maybe she was sick with worry. Certainly her voice betrayed her anxiety, although Kate thought she was making an effort to control herself when she called, ‘Will you come in now, Richard?’
Instead of answering he frowned and gestured towards the men below as if he wanted to stay and talk.
She said somewhat shakily, ‘You’re bleeding, you know.’ Kate realized that a piece of glass must have caught Richard when the window shattered.
The woman’s voice carried clearly and, hearing her words, some of the people on the outer fringes of the crowd began to melt away, including some of the fishwives who had been standing on the cliff top. Kate saw Richard Adamson take a handkerchief from his pocket and begin to dab at his cheek.
‘I think your mother would be much happier if you came in and cleaned the wound. You can talk to these men another day.’
Nobody knew what to do. Thomas hadn’t moved since he’d thrown the stone but the other men were beginning to draw away from him. However, they stayed within earshot, compelled to watch the drama being enacted on the top step. Suddenly a large man pushed his way through to the front. Kate noticed some of the men glance at each other furtively. They began to slip away.
The newcomer gripped Thomas roughly by the shoulder and spun him round. Her brother found himself looking up into the face of Constable Darling. Without releasing his grip on Thomas, the constable addressed Richard Adamson.
‘Are you all right, Mr Adamson, sir?’ he called.
‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you, constable.’
Mr Adamson continued to dab at his face and now Kate could see the blood staining his handkerchief.
‘I would go inside like the young lady said, sir, if I were you. I can deal with this lot.’
With these words, and still holding on to Thomas, the constable turned to face the men who remained. Amongst them Kate recognized her twin brother’s circle of friends. Matthew stood the closest although he no longer held his banner aloft.
‘This is an unlawful assembly,’ the constable said in ringing tones. The other banners were lowered quickly. ‘And this man has committed a serious assault. He’s under arrest.’
The men groaned. Kate wanted to rush forward and plead with the constable for the release of her brother. She must have made a movement in that direction for she felt the person standing behind her grip her arm.
‘Now get yourselves away home or I’ll be forced to lock you up with this one.’
None of the fishermen was prepared to argue with the constable. Not only did he represent the law but they knew this huge powerful man could floor any one of them if they disobeyed him. Constable Darling was both respected and feared. A few of the men muttered under their breath, but their will to continue the demonstration was broken. They headed back towards the cottages in small groups.
Kate remained where she was. Soon she was the only one left except for the person standing behind her. She turned to find it was William, and she realized that it must have been he who had grasped her arm to prevent her from springing forward. Without speaking the two of them drew closer together, both anxious to see what fate awaited their brother.
Constable Darling was holding Thomas by the neck of his gansey. Her brother looked sullen but far from contrite. Richard was still dabbing at his cheek, his handkerchief now more red than white. While he folded it and tried to find a clean place, the dark-haired young woman came out of the house and offered him a clean hand towel. He smiled his thanks.
‘Please come in now,’ she said. ‘The constable will deal with this hooligan.’ And then her tone became more urgent. ‘You must allow me to bathe your wound.’
‘I’m coming,’ he said. ‘But first a word with the constable. Go inside, Caroline, I won’t be long.’
For a moment it looked as though the young woman was going to protest. She stared at Richard and, eventually, gave a strained smile and a nod and went back into the house. Kate sensed that her action had taken a deal of self-control and she found herself admiring her.
Constable Darling waited until she had gone before speaking. ‘I’m sorry you’ve had this trouble, sir. This one here,’ he jerked Thomas forward, ‘won’t be fishing for a long time. Five years or more he’ll get for this.’
Kate felt William’s arm come round her and was glad of his support. ‘Can’t you do something?’ she asked quietly. ‘Say something?’
‘I’m not sure what I can say,’ William said just as quietly. ‘Perhaps plead his youth? Worth a try.’ He dropped his arm and was just about to walk forward when Richard Adamson spoke.
‘No,’ he said.
‘No?’ The constable frowned. ‘I don’t know what you mean, Mr Adamson.’
‘I don’t intend to prefer charges. Let the man go.’
Kate could hardly believe what she was hearing. She had expected that Thomas would be taken to prison and kept there until the next assizes. And Constable Darling had probably not been exaggerating when he’d said Thomas would get five years or more. Not only had he instigated an unlawful assembly, but he’d actually assaulted and wounded a gentleman.
The constable looked perplexed. ‘I want you to know that would be against my better judgement, sir,’ he said.
‘If you’re worried about what your superiors will say, I can assure you I’ll take full responsibility. I’ll tell them that you did your duty.’ He paused. ‘Eventually.’
‘Eventually?’ The constable looked uneasy.
‘We’ll talk about that in a moment. But now I suggest you let the fellow go.’
Reluctantly Constable Darling released his hold on Thomas. ‘Skedaddle,’ he said. ‘And don’t come near Mr Adamson’s house again. Not you nor your pals. Understand?’
Kate willed her brother to show even the slightest gratitude for being given his freedom. But he didn’t. He turned his back on Mr Adamson and the constable and walked away towards the village. The two men watched him, the constable shaking his head, and then they went into the house.
William pressed her hand. ‘Go home, now, Kate,’ he said, ‘it’s over.’ He hurried after Thomas.
Kate looked over once more to the Adamsons’ house. A servant girl had come out and was sweeping up the glass. Another was performing the same task inside. Kate could see her because the lace curtain had been taken down. Somewhere inside the room lamps had been lit but Kate couldn’t make out much because of the activity at the window. A manservant appeared carrying boards of wood.
They’ll board it up tonight, Kate thought, and tomorrow a glazier will come. They may have to buy a new lace curtain, but that and the new glass will be the sum of their inconvenience.
And was this the end of the matter? She thought not. She and Thomas had shared their mother’s womb, they had shared a crib and they had grown together. She had been the first to learn to speak, and until Thomas mastered his words she had been the only one who could understand him. She knew him better than anyone else did.
No, Thomas would not be satisfied with what had happened today. After all, what had he and his friends achieved? They had made their feelings plain but they had effected no change. How could they? Had they even expected to? As Kate turned to walk home she had a sense of foreboding that chilled her through and through.
Constable Darling had never been inside the Adamsons’ house before, and as he followed the trawler owner up the richly carpeted stairs to the first-floor study he glanced surreptitiously at the oak panelling, the figured wallpaper and the gas lamps set in brackets on the walls.
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