Read Storm Child Online

Authors: Sharon Sant

Storm Child (8 page)

 

 

Twelve

 

They left through the kitchen door, closing it quietly
behind them.  The chill of the night air was just beginning to bite and
Annie pulled her shawl more tightly around her.

‘What will happen if he wakes up before we’re back?’ Annie
whispered, casting a glance back at the orange lit window of the study as they
walked through the gates.

‘He won’t wake tonight,’ Polly
said.  ‘I done it enough times to know how much to give him.’

‘Don’t he realise his drink’s
been tampered with?’ Annie asked, a note of incredulity creeping into her tone.

‘He wakes with a heavy head
alright.  Thinks he’s overdone the drink, don’t he?’

‘Where did you get the sleeping
draught?’

Polly didn’t answer immediately.
‘Best you don’t ask,’ she said finally.

‘What if we don’t find Isaac?
What if he
ain’t
in custody like we thought?’

‘I know a few other spots we
could go
lookin
’. I don’t fancy ‘
em
,
though, so we’ll try there first.’

‘They’re worse than the jail?
What spots?’

‘Isaac and me lived on the
streets before Ernesto took us in and we
seen
a lot
of bad places, mixed with a lot of bad people. You and Georgina, you just got
your mama and then the workhouse. Trust, me, there’s a whole world out there
you don’t know about and if you know what’s good for you, you don’t want to
know about.’

Annie fell silent as they hit the
road into
Uxmouth
.  Polly was quiet too,
scanning the surrounding landscape with a keen eye as darkness crept across
it.  The occasional lantern posted at the side of the road threw a weak
pool of light over them as they passed under it, but not nearly enough to make
them feel safe.

 

Miles had passed and Annie finally broke the quiet. ‘What
are we
goin
’ to do when we get there?’

‘I’m
thinkin

about that,’ Polly replied.

‘You don’t know?’

Polly halted.  ‘Why is it up
to me to think of everything?’

Annie shrugged and trotted to catch
up as Polly began to walk again, long, determined strides. ‘It’s just that you
always seem to know what to do, I suppose,’ she said.

‘Well, sweet, I don’t this time.’

‘Do you know where the jail is?’

‘I know where that is alright,’
Polly replied darkly.

It was then that they both heard
a girl’s voice calling out across the heath. Polly’s head shot up and they
stopped dead, listening intently. 

‘It’s coming from that way,’
Annie said, tilting her head in the direction of a distant spread of trees. 

‘We
ain’t
got time to make it our business,’ Polly answered.

The voice came to them again,
carried as a whispering echo across the flats of brackens and ferns.

‘That sounds like Georgie’s
name!’ Annie said.

‘It does, but your sister
ain’t
the only nipper named Georgina.  Besides, how’s
anyone but you
goin
’ to know what her name is?’

‘She sounds upset.  Like
she’s lost someone.’

‘Maybe she has, but so have we
and if we don’t get a crack on he’s
goin
’ to stay
lost.’

The girl called again and then a
howl let loose, somewhere from the same direction.  Annie looked at Polly,
her face unreadable in the shadows.  Before Polly could stop her, she was
tearing across the heath. 

‘Ruddy ‘ell!’ Polly sighed and
took off after her.

Stumbling over roots and into
divots in the near blackness, Polly called out for Annie, but already she could
see no sign of her. 

‘Fourteen an’ she won’t see
fifteen at this rate,’ Polly muttered as she halted to survey the
landscape.  Her eye was drawn to a tiny point of light, bobbing on the
horizon.  It couldn’t be Annie, who had no lantern, but if Annie had seen
it too, that’s where she’d be heading.  Polly decided to take a chance and
struck out towards it. 

Further on she caught sight of a
shadow standing proud of the heath, one that could only be Annie.  She
quickened her stride to catch up.  Seconds later, she saw the shadow
disappear again.  She ran to the spot, calling softly. ‘Annie, you
dimwit!  Where are you?’  There was no reply. ‘Annie?’ she called
again, louder this time.

The sound of a voice reached her,
but it was not Annie. 

‘This way, lads…’

It was the voice of a man. 
Polly turned about to see a new collection of bobbing lights headed their
way. 

‘We’ll catch him tonight, eh, Mr
Matthews?’

‘We’ll give good chase, that’s
for sure,’ the first voice replied grimly.

Polly felt a hand on her arm and
spun around to find Annie standing next to her.

‘What
d’you
go and do that for?’ Polly snarled.

‘I fell over and when I got up I
couldn’t see where she went,’ Annie breathed. 

‘Hold on,’ Polly answered in a
low voice, ‘looks like these coves are out looking an’ all.’

‘For the girl?’ 

‘For the wolf by the sounds of
it.’

‘What about Georgie?’

‘You don’t even know if that’s
her out there,’ Polly said, a note of vexation creeping into her tone. 
‘If we don’t go an’ get Isaac out soon we’ll run out of time and Ernie will
wake up.’

‘But –’

As Annie began her reply a crack
echoed across the heath, then a cheer went up from the direction of the
trees. 

‘Get down,’ Polly hissed, pulling
at Annie’s arm as she flattened herself to the ground. 

‘Does it matter if they see us?’
Annie asked as she followed instructions and flattened herself against the
heath.

‘We don’t know who they are… for
all we know catching wolves might not be the only thing on their minds…’ Polly
offered no more explanation. They watched and waited and a few minutes later
the bobbing lights returned.  The dark shapes of men went with them, two
of them seemed to be carrying heavy bundles, one of which sounded like a
toddler, crying pitifully.  

‘Mrs Harding will be worried out
of her mind for these girls.  I don’t know what Miss was thinking of, out
on the heath at night with a little one and that wolf on the loose.  I
told Mary to warn the village children.’

‘That’s one we’ve ridded the
country of, Mr Matthews.’

‘Aye, there is that.  We’ll
go back for the carcass in the
mornin
’ see what we
can do with it.  Could do with a new rug,’ Matthews laughed.

The voices gradually quietened as
they moved away.  Polly turned to Annie, whose breathing was fast. 
‘What you all worked up about? They’re on their way now.’

‘It’s just… I was scared, that’s
all.’

‘No need to be scared with me;
I’ll always see you right, you know that.’

‘I know.’

‘You were scared because you
think that was Georgie?’

Annie hesitated. ‘No, not now
that I think about it. I was scared, that’s all, because I thought it might be
a wolf
comin
’ to eat us. You’re right, there are
loads of nippers with that name; it couldn’t have been her.’

But Annie’s hesitation was all
Polly needed to confirm her suspicions.

 

 

Thirteen

 

Even though Charlotte still had her eyes closed, she
realised she was home.  Wrapped in a soft blanket, the room smelt of warm
bread and hot chocolate, and she could hear the cracking of the low burning
kitchen fire.  She moved slightly to get more comfortable and a soft hand
touched her hair. 

‘Charlotte?’

She opened her eyes.  Her
bed had been moved into the kitchen and she was lying near the fire. Mr Matthews
was at her mother’s side.

‘You gave us quite a fright,
young Charlotte. What on earth were you doing out there at night with a wolf on
the loose?’ His words were stern, but his beaming face betrayed that there was
no real anger there.

Charlotte suddenly sat up.
‘Georgina…’

Her mother put a gentle hand on
her arm.  ‘She’s sleeping, look.’

Charlotte looked to where her
mother was pointing, and smiled as she saw Georgina tucked up at the foot end
of her bed. She lay back down and closed her eyes. ‘I’m so very tired…’

‘You’re bound to be.’ Charlotte’s
mother said.

‘Are you angry with me?’
Charlotte asked, her eyes still closed and dreading the answer.

‘No. But I would like an
explanation,’ she said. ‘Later,’ she added. ‘It will wait until you’ve had a
nap. I’m just glad to have you both back safe.’

Charlotte’s eyes opened again.
‘I’m sorry. It was all my fault….I didn’t watch Georgina properly and she
wandered off.  I was angry, you see, and I left the door open…’

Charlotte’s mother put a finger
to her lips. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m proud of you for going to find her, and
being so brave out there.’

‘Really?’ Charlotte frowned. She
couldn’t quite believe that she was getting away with no punishment.

‘Really.’ But then a mischievous
smile crept across her mother’s face. ‘Don’t think, young lady, that being
proud will stop me from giving you the mountain of chores I have listed to make
up for being so careless.’

Charlotte closed her eyes again.
No amount of chores could ever take away the happiness she felt right now being
safe at home again with Georgina and her mother.

 

 

 

Fourteen

 

Annie slipped the knots on her laces and took off her
boots.  She had been silent for the rest of the journey into
Uxmouth
, her mind teeming with what she had witnessed on
the heath earlier that evening. She was certain that it was
her
Georgina
who had been in danger and she was gripped with fear for what she had done to
her sister. What if, by sending Georgina away, she had only put her in greater
danger? And now she couldn’t be there to protect her and had no idea from day
to day whether she was alive or dead.  It was all Annie could do to stop
herself running back to the cottage and reclaiming her.  But the occasional
odd glance she caught from Polly reminded her that danger lurked in the home of
Ernesto Black too. So far Polly had not mentioned the incident again and had
asked no more questions regarding her sister’s whereabouts and Annie felt it
best not to remind her.  Annie would have to live with the decision she
had made and hope it was the right one.

‘Hurry up,’ Polly whispered as
she bent down and Annie clambered onto her shoulders.  Slowly and wobbly,
Annie gripping the wall as best she could, Polly stood.  Annie peered
through the tiny barred window. Sitting with his back to her in the dimly lit
room, was the unmistakable figure of Isaac.

‘He’s in this one,’ she breathed.
Polly lowered herself and Annie leapt down. ‘What now?’ she asked as she tied
her boots back up.

‘Hush, I’m thinking.’

Polly began to prowl, back and
forth beneath the window as Annie watched her.  They had arrived in
Uxmouth
much later than they had intended, but it had
turned to their advantage in the end as the streets were now near deserted –
apart from crowds around the taverns and the less salubrious alleyways, all of
them too drunk or too busy to care what a pair of scruffy teenage girls were
doing wandering around after dark, they had made their way to the police
building largely unnoticed. 

‘We need a diversion,’ Polly
said.  She walked around towards the side of the building, Annie
following.  There, she began to tear down the posters showing the faces of
notorious criminals and public notices. Annie’s mouth dropped open.

‘I’m
goin

to set ‘
em
alight,’ Polly grinned.

‘It won’t burn for long,’ Annie
observed. 

Polly hesitated.  ‘You’re
right.’  She cast around and her gaze rested on a pile of straw swept into
a corner.  ‘These’ll do as a spill and we’ll set that lot off,’ she
whispered.  ‘Once we got it
goin
’, you run into
the building and shout fire – make a real big dramatic fuss.  I’ll slip in
while they’re busy and get the keys.’

‘They’ll have the keys on ‘
em
, won’t they?’

‘Bound to be a spare set
somewhere.  Her Majesty’s constabulary are such a bunch of dolts that they
lose them all the time and need spares.’

‘You sound like you know this
from
bein
’ in there yourself,’ Annie replied.

‘Sweet, I keep
tellin

yer
not to ask.  You
don’t want to know where I been in the past. Keep ‘
em
busy as long as you can.  Swoon or
somethin
’ if
you see ‘
em
coming back inside.’

Annie nodded and watched as Polly
went round to the front of the building to the gas lamps.  Reaching up,
she groaned as her hand stopped inches away from the top of the glass.  ‘I
can’t get it,’ she breathed as she returned to Annie.  ‘You’ll have to
help me.’

Annie followed her around and
clasped her hands together for Polly to stand on.  Polly held the brick
column as she reached for the lamp, this time her paper finding the flame
within and catching in seconds.  She leapt from Annie’s hands and flung
the burning paper into the pile of straw.  It didn’t take long for the
flames to start licking the base of the walls, setting their faces aglow. 

‘Now, get in there an’ scream!’
Polly ordered. She ducked behind the far wall of the building and watched as
Annie raced inside.  A few seconds later she heard the cry go up and three
men rushed out, followed by Annie, who glanced briefly in Polly’s direction
before getting involved in the fray, making herself as big a nuisance as she
could.  Polly shot out from her hiding place and slipped into the
building. 

Inside, a small office space
housing a scuffed wooden desk and a wooden cabinet, along which was ranged
various bottles of liquor, led to a narrow corridor.  Polly hurried down
there to find the cell that held Isaac.  He shot up from his bed as he saw
her approach, a grin spreading across his face. 

‘Poll!’

‘Where do they keep the spare
keys?’

Isaac looked puzzled for a moment.
‘I
dunno
.’

‘Fat lot of good you are. You of
all people should know that’s the first thing you find out.’ She made her way
back to the office and began pulling at drawers, desperately rifling through
each one.  ‘Come on, you got to be in here somewhere,’ she muttered
savagely.

The sounds of Annie, now
squealing hysterically, reached her ears and the search became reckless,
flinging objects out of her way and scattering them over the floor as she
went.  Finally, her hands fell on something cold and metallic and she
hauled out a bunch of rusty keys. With a smile, she lifted them to her face to
kiss them, pirouetted towards the corridor, and then stopped dead in her
tracks.  

The three guards were standing in
the doorway of the building with Annie held fast. 

 

 

 

           

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