Tommo & Hawk (4 page)

She lowers her eyes again. 'You know about growing hops, you learned it in England. That will be yours to concern yourself about. The Huon Valley, what we can buy of it, will be yours, Hawk. Tommo can work with me at Strickland Falls and prove himself, prove he may be trusted. He must learn what you already know about brewing. Catch up like, be an apprentice boy.'

I bang my fist on the table so she is forced to look up. 'Mama, Tommo won't, he won't come back, not yet!'

But she's too quick for me. She doesn't hear the half of it because her eyes are squinched tight closed and she can't see my hands speaking to her, though she's heard the smack of my fist and knows full well what I'm trying to say.

'The Potato Factory,' Mary says fiercely, her eyes still closed, like it's a holy catechism, 'comes first!' She opens her eyes and spreads her crippled hands against the white of the cloth, fingers splayed as wide as they'll go. Then it comes to her what she has just said and she adds, 'That be after you and Tommo, o' course.'

'Mama, we've got Ikey's stolen fortune, you don't ever need to work again if you don't wish!'

Mary is silent a moment, then she says, 'That be the whole problem. We has to make what's been stolen honest again.'

She can see that I don't understand her. She shrugs. 'All Ikey's money's been gained on the cross, not one penny comes from honest toil. It all comes from fencing, forging, laundering money, brothel-keeping and having his brats at the Academy of Light Fingers pickpocket for him. As for Hannah Solomon, hers comes from running scams in bawdy houses. All right, I put in me time in such places too, but I never cheated nor used poor kids what can't defend themselves. We has to put the money to decent use and make it clean.'

'But, Mama, I stole that fortune! I opened Ikey's safe using the combination we worked out from Ikey's riddle. We've no more call on that money than the Solomons have.'

'Hawk!' Mary shouts in protest. 'You know it's not the same. Ikey gave you the riddle that held his three numbers to the safe. He were as good as saying that if you be the clever one to crack the riddle what opens his half of the safe, then providing he could also find out Hannah's set of numbers, what were in it be ours, his to share with us!'

'Mama, Ikey didn't say anything of the sort! He didn't know you already knew Hannah's half of the combination! You never did tell him, did you? Ikey always thought it was just a clever riddle he'd given me to test my wits.'

Mary purses her lips. 'More fool him, then,' she says, but softly. 'He were a fool to underestimate the both of us, you in particular.'

'But even if I'd cracked Ikey's part of the riddle he knew it would give us only half title to the money.'

She smiles. 'If Ikey were alive he'd be proud, most proud that we beat the wicked cunning of that bitch, and her miserable brat, David Solomon! They were his natural family, but he saw them for what they were.'

She gazes at me fondly now. 'I were right to send you to England, to learn the growing of hops. Heaven knows we didn't have a penny to spare at the time, not for sending you, nor for purchasing land when you returned to do the growing. But I always knew it were the right thing to do,' she claps her hands suddenly, 'and look what happened, you returned with Ikey's fortune and the knowledge we needed. Now we can buy the whole Huon Valley if we wants!'

'Mama, perhaps we could argue that if Ikey hadn't died before the safe was opened, he would have left us the part of the fortune that was his to give. But half of what came out of that safe rightly belongs to Hannah Solomon! Ikey was willing she should have her share, he always said so. But Hannah demanded more, much more, and that's what stopped him giving her half in the first place - the thought that she wouldn't rest there! That, and the fact that he didn't trust her to do right by him, stopped them from dividing it fairly in the first place. They were both ruled by greed. But what was Hannah's wasn't Ikey's when he was alive! Nor is it for us to have now that he's dead!'

'Her half share be our compensation for the kidnapping of you and Tommo.'

'Mama, we can't prove she and David Solomon were behind the kidnapping!'

'Ha! And Hannah can't prove you opened Ikey's safe before David arrived in London either! That's two can't proves! We're quits then, ain't we?' Mary looks smug. 'Far as she's concerned, you were waiting in London with Ikey's half of the combination, and the two of you opened that safe together and found it empty.' Her expression turns grim. 'I know it were them,' she taps her chest with her finger, 'in me heart. I know it were David and Hannah Solomon what kidnapped my boys!' She points her finger at me, shaking it. 'All the bleedin' dosh in the world can't bring back your voice or undo what's been done to Tommo! They've got to be punished!'

Mary suddenly realises that she's shouting and looks around. She lowers her voice to almost a whisper even though there's no one about to hear us. 'Besides, if Ikey were alive and you'd brought him back the whole fortune from London, do you really think he would have divided it in half and given Hannah her share? Not bleedin' likely he would! I'll tell you something for nothing, he wouldn't 'ave given her a farthing! Not a brass razoo!' Mary folds her arms across her breasts. 'By keeping the lot we're only doing what Ikey would have wanted most!'

I shake my head slowly. 'Mama, we don't know that. It isn't a decent thing that we're doing.'

Mary's face reddens. She is suddenly furious. 'Don't talk to me about decent! Decent be what decent does. That bitch done nothing decent in her friggin' life! I ain't giving that whore nothing, you hear? Over my dead body! Not a bleedin' penny, you hear me? Me conscience be clear on the matter!'

I've never seen Mary so fierce and Ikey's words come back to me. 'Out of a clear blue sky, my dears, with not a cloud o' contention to be seen, not a fluffy puff o' ill humour on the far horizon, Mary can evoke a hurricane in minutes. She don't give a tinker's cuss for the consequences to herself of her malevolent tongue. Mary has a temper what can turn the sweetest harmony, the calmest waters into a raging storm at sea greater than that what wrecked the Spanish armada!'

There is nothing more I can say in the face of her anger. I shrug, but Mary's not finished yet.

'You think Hannah's going t' be happy with 'arf? She'll be off to the law in a flash if she knows we've got Ikey's money. Besides, who's to know what's hers and what were Ikey's?' She stabs a finger at me again. 'You going t' let her decide? Let Hannah Solomon tell you what's her fair share? Eh? You going to do that? You barmy or somethin'?'

What Mary says is logical. Hannah will never be satisfied until she has the lot, but Mary knows Hannah won't go to the law. When Ikey was sentenced to transportation for purchasing stolen goods, the Old Bailey ruled that whatever could be recovered of his stolen goods was the property of the Crown. Ikey always said that if we recovered any of the money we should never speak of it. 'The law has big ears, my dear. Ears what can gather taxes and fines like a dredger gathers mud! When it comes to money, stay stum, the less known all 'round the better, know what I mean?'

I remind Mary of this, knowing full well that she doesn't need reminding. 'Mama, you know Hannah won't go running to the magistrate. She won't want to draw attention to herself. Besides, she'd have done it before if she'd thought it an advantage to her. She already suspects we've got Ikey's money.'

Mary frowns, then shakes her head. 'Suspecting and knowing for certain ain't the same thing now, are they? Once Hannah and that son of hers knows for certain, they'd be after us. David Solomon wouldn't never let up. The humiliation of him knowing it were you what tricked him would be enough, he'd kill you!'

I shrug. 'Mama, you recall I left a ring in the safe with a little note that purported to be from Ikey: "Remember, always leave a little salt on the bread." It seemed a good joke at the time. David still thinks Ikey outsmarted them. He thinks the fortune was taken when Ikey was still in England and that the note was intended for Hannah. As far as he knows, Ikey had the money and couldn't spend it before he died, so it must be here.'

'No!' Mary says. 'There's no proof of it.'

I shake my head. 'Listen, Mama, David must conclude that Ikey left the money to you. That would be a natural enough assumption, don't you think?'

'Assumption? Assumption ain't proof! That ain't knowing!' Mary snaps, still protesting.

'Ah, but if you buy the land in the Huon Valley he'll know soon enough, won't he?'

Mary thinks a moment then sighs. 'You be right.'

'But Mama, what if we tell them we wish to make peace? If we admit that Ikey left you all the money but that you wish out of the goodness of your heart to do the right and proper thing and give Hannah her half?'

Mary looks at me astonished. She's lost for words so I continue quickly. 'Mama, it would wipe away the wrongs done, and guarantee our safety. Ikey always said: "Mutual greed can make the worst o' enemies the best o' loving friends."'

Mary sighs and looks at me despairingly. 'Hawk, you is always trying to fix what can't be fixed between folk. This ain't a peace what can be bought. Them lot is filth, they won't abide by no goodwill, no conditions!'

'But don't you see, Mama? We'll make it so they must! We'll leave a sealed envelope with Mr Emmett. They know he's the governor's chief clerk as well as being your good friend and so can't be corrupted. We'll give him instructions that it's only to be opened if harm comes to any of us and they're involved. The note will tell the authorities about Hannah's possession of Ikey's money that rightly belongs to the Crown. Then we'll tell Hannah and David about the letter lodged with Mr Emmett.'

'Ha! Fat chance o' pulling that off! What about our money? The law would confiscate that, too!'

'What money?' I smile. 'We'll say Ikey left instructions before he died to give Hannah all his money, that when I came back from London I only acted as courier for a small commission. You were his executor, entitled to ten per cent that you're now perfectly prepared to rebate to the Crown.'

Mary shakes her head and tut-tuts. 'You've gone barmy, Hawk.' But I can see she's thinking. Frowning and drumming her fingers on the white tablecloth.

'Tell you what,' she says at last. I shrug and spread my hands. 'What?'

'Get Tommo to stay put, to stay at 'ome with us and after he's been sober one year and worked with me in the brewery, we'll do it. We'll give Hannah a quarter share. That be more than what rightly belongs to her!'

She looks closely at me now, reading my consternation. 'And you still can't tell Tommo about Ikey's money neither. You hear me now, Hawk Solomon, you've got to stay stum!'

I shake my head. 'Mama, I must give Tommo a reason to stay! I must tell him. Helping to protect you from any harm might be the only way to convince him to stay. Please, Mama!'

'No, Hawk, he's not to be trusted yet!'

'Mama, Tommo would do nothing to harm us!'

Mary's lips are pursed. 'Be that as it may, you're not to tell about the money. Nor about David and Hannah hating us. Tommo ain't no fool, he'll want to know why.' Now Mary looks directly into my eyes. 'I'm worried he's going to run away from us. You'd not scarper too, go with him, would you, Hawk?'

My heart sinks. She must be able to see how distraught I am, how my throat aches with concern for her. Mary is counting on me and now, with Tommo returned, him also. She knows, though, that the brewery can get along without Tommo, but it will be harder without me.

'Mama, I can't leave my brother. I swore that if Tommo came back to us I'd never leave him again. If he goes, I must go too.'

I can feel the tears running down my black face now. I sniff, my hands working fast. 'Please, Mama! I beg you to understand. You must let me get the badness out of Tommo! Then we'll come back to you, I promise!'

Mary says nothing. Instead she pulls at the chain around her neck to bring up her Waterloo medal, which she clasps tightly in her fist. When Mary holds her good luck charm, it means she's not going to budge an inch. She will never surrender.

I feel defeated. Telling Tommo about Ikey's money was the last card in my deck, my only chance to make him stay. I was willing to compromise Tommo's peace of mind for the greater good, believing truly that he would be best off here at home with us. But now Mary forbids me this. She expects me to let Tommo go away on his own again. She's making me choose between my love for Tommo and for her. Mary, whom I love with all my heart. Mary, to whom Tommo and I owe our very life, who made us her own when Ikey brought us home in his tobacco basket, two brats of a whore died in childbirth, rats already eating the birth mess when he found us in the early morning sunshine.

I know what Mary has done for us, Tommo and I saw it often enough when we were small. Each morning at eight o'clock, after the Reverend Smiles had eaten lamb's kidneys and fresh eggs, with his napkin still tied about his neck, he'd take up his prayer book and come out to the churchyard beside the foundling home to bury the newborn dead. He would say what passes for a prayer for the unwanted infants left to perish in the churchyard or on the docks, under bridges and in ditches. In a hurry of words too fast for their meaning to be understood, he'd bury what the scavenger cats and dogs and the dock rats had not eaten. 'Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, rubbish to rubbish,' he might as well have said, for it makes no difference when there's nobody to mourn.

Tommo and I would have been in that graveyard if Ikey had not found us and Mary taken us in. They weren't man and wife, nor even living as such, but they became our mother and father. And Mary raised us up properly. She tutored us in reading and writing and sums until we were more advanced in these skills than other children and even most adults on the island. She loved us with a great fierceness, scolded us, bathed and bandaged our cuts and scratches, dried our tears and taught us how to be on our guard against a hostile world. Each night she held us tenderly. 'My boys,' she always said, kissing us on the cheek, 'my lovely little boys.' It was the last thing we heard every night.