A Ring Through Time (17 page)

The diary slipped from Allie’s fingers and fell to the floor with a thud, waking her. She picked it up and looked at her watch. It was late. She didn’t need her mother to remind her that it was a school day tomorrow. Reluctantly, she placed the diary under her mattress and switched off the light.

The image of a young woman spitting blood into a handkerchief came into her mind. So many of those old diseases were now curable with antibiotics and other treatments, but in Elizabeth Robertson’s time tuberculosis was a killer. Did she manage to beat the disease? Did she marry and have a good life? Or did she die here on the island, and leave Alice alone after all?

If so, her grave might be found in the local cemetery, along with the excavated sawpit where the mutineers were to be buried. Allie had passed the cemetery a couple of times but she hadn’t gone in to have a proper look, although it seemed to be quite an attraction if the busloads of tourists were anything
to go by. She made a mental note to visit it sometime, just to see who or what she might find there.

She was tired, but her mind buzzed with questions. What was Alice going to do about Jack? She seemed to like him well enough; was even coming around to the idea of marrying him, although she was quite clearly falling in love with Cormac. Did Alice take Elizabeth’s advice and marry Jack? Was that why she’d left her diary and the hair ring behind in the commandant’s house?

Allie closed her eyes, telling herself that she’d find the answers to all her questions in Alice’s diary; she just had to be patient.

But Allie’s patience had worn very thin by the time she was finished with school, homework and chores the next day, and was finally able to retreat to the privacy of her room and retrieve the diary from its hiding place.

Thursday

Days have passed without a sighting of Cormac. Tension is high on the island and my father’s mood reflects his concern. I do not dare mention music or the treatment of the convicts for I know either topic will unleash an angry tirade. And so I bide my time and pray that Cormac will keep out of trouble.

The gallows has been set up in one of the yards of the new gaol, and I know that the grave dug by Cormac and the convict gang will soon be filled. To comfort my lonely, aching heart I creep off into secret corners to while away the time weaving my hair into a ring of bright gold.

Tuesday, 13th October: Judgment Day

At last, it is over! Listening at Father’s study door, Susannah and I hear him tell Mother that the judge has pronounced sentence and it has been carried out without delay. In front of witnesses, the twelve mutineers that were found guilty have been hanged and their bodies taken by three bullock drays to the cemetery.

‘That fool Rogers wanted them buried in hallowed ground and with full rites, but I made sure they were buried quickly, Catholics and Protestants together, before he and the priest had time to interfere.’ There is a grim satisfaction in Father’s tone. ‘I had some of the convicts excavate a disused sawpit outside of the cemetery’s boundary especially for the purpose. That is where these wretches lie, their grave mound a warning to all to repent before it is too late.’

I feel a growing sense of disconnection from my father as I hear him speak. This is the man I have loved and admired all my life, yet he is turning into a monster right before our eyes. How can he be so loving to his family and so very cruel to everyone else? I feel I no longer know him. Worse, I no longer respect or admire him. I cannot love him as a daughter should.

Friday

The judge has left the island and things are settling down at last. The earth is covered over by a mantle of green as seedlings respond to the warmth of the spring sunshine, although a careful inspection on one of my walks reassures me that there is still much work to be done in the garden. I can only hope that my father will agree to supplement the convicts’ rations once the vegetables reach maturity,
for there will be plenty enough for everyone if the produce from Longridge and Cascade is included. As always, I hope to see Cormac when I am out, but there is no sign of him.

A sudden wild storm has swept through, lashing everyone and everything in its path and destroying the garden. The roads have become a network of puddles; even the ducks look miserable. There is no hope of venturing outdoors, but being confined day after day scratches my nerves to screaming point. It is an effort to remain civil to my family.

The incessant rain slows to a drizzle and finally stops. I venture outside to sniff the weather. It is cool and there is still a slight spit of rain, but I am delighted to note that the convicts are hard at work in the garden once more, repairing the damage caused by the storm.

My spirits lift in excitement. Is Cormac among them? I have almost given up hope of ever seeing him again. I peer more closely, then run to fetch my sketchbook and the ring I have woven from my own hair. I collect my cloak and bonnet to keep out the rain, and move quietly towards the door that will lead me down to the cellar and outside to freedom.

‘Where are you going, Alice?’

Susannah has turned the corner into the passage before I can dodge out of sight to avoid her. She waits for my answer.

I put a finger to my lips to hush her. ‘Out,’ I whisper.

‘Can I come too?’ she whispers back.

Without waiting for a reply, she is already hurrying off to fetch her cloak. I sigh as I weigh up my options. I can forbid Susannah and provoke an argument that will attract the attention of my mother and signal the end of my excursion. Or I can abandon the prospect of meeting Cormac. No, that I cannot do! But perhaps there is a third option.

I look sideways at my sister, deciding to take a chance. ‘You may come,’ I say.

But Susannah has already settled her cloak over her shoulders and is walking down the cellar stairs. I follow her down and outside into the cool, damp air. I take a deep breath, enjoying the freshness after the stuffy confines of our home.

‘Where are we going?’ Susannah asks.

I indicate Father’s allotment below, and begin to walk downhill towards it.

‘You are not going in there with the convicts, are you?’ Susannah’s steps falter. ‘Father would not approve.’

‘No, we are walking past, that is all. I may do some sketching if I find a pretty view.’

It could be that Cormac is not even in the garden. It could be that I am concerning myself over something that might not happen. But I have to make sure; I cannot bear just to walk by. I scan the convicts, looking for him. My pulse quickens as I see that he, too, is looking out for me.

‘Why is that convict staring at you?’ Susannah asks.

‘Probably because he has not seen a woman in a long while,’ I answer glibly.

My stomach gives a sickening lurch at the thought. Have I unwittingly identified the reason that Cormac is paying attention to me? Then I remember the urgency of his kiss, and raise my hand to touch the outline of his ring at my breast. No! It is more than that, so much more.

I slip into the bushy hedge beside the fence, pulling Susannah in after me.

‘What —’

My finger against my sister’s lips stops her question. ‘Sshh,’ I warn, as I stoop to put my eye to the spyhole.

‘Alice! What are you doing?’ Susannah hisses.

I ignore her and watch Cormac. He has already moved closer to the fence since I first spied him. Now he is inching closer still, spade in hand, and making a show of digging out weeds.

Susannah pokes me in the ribs. ‘Give me a turn. I want to see them too.’

‘No!’ I round on her. ‘Promise me you won’t say anything to Mother and Father,’ I whisper fiercely. ‘This is our secret, yours and mine.’

‘I promise.’ Her voice is plaintive as she continues. ‘But can’t I also look at them? I recognise that tall, black-haired convict. He is the handsome violinist, isn’t he? I would like to see him again!’

‘No!’ I give Susannah a hard pinch. ‘This is dangerous for us and also for the convicts. Swear on our mother’s life that you will not say anything about it to anyone.’

I wait, prepared to walk on if she refuses.

‘Oh, all right then. I swear.’

I relax, knowing that Susannah will keep her word. I bend once more to look through the hole in the fence. Cormac is nowhere in sight! I squint downwards, and am relieved to see him squatting on his haunches and industriously digging. At once, I crouch down to be close to him. Her face alight with eagerness, Susannah drops down beside me.

‘Hello, Cormac,’ I murmur, to let him know that I am here and that it is all right to talk. I finger the ring in my pocket, wondering how I might give it to him. It is too large to poke through the spyhole, and besides, it is too dangerous with Susannah here as a witness.

‘Are there two of you here today?’ Cormac asks.

‘Yes. My sister, Susannah, is here with me.’

I shoot a sharp glance at Susannah, who is staring at me with wide eyes and an open mouth.

‘I can’t stay here long for we are closely watched today,’ he whispers. ‘I just wanted to tell you that if it’s ever possible for me to slip away, I shall wait for you where we last met.’

I am instantly afraid on his behalf. ‘No, it is too dangerous. You will be missed, and then what will happen to you?’

‘Don’t you go worrying your pretty little head about me, darlin’, it’s the luck of the Irish I have.’ He chuckles, then adds more soberly, ‘I’ll think of something. I can always talk my way out of trouble.’

‘You over there! What do you think you’re playing at?’

The sudden roar startles all of us. I put my hand on Susannah’s arm, motioning her to be quiet. We stay crouched down beside the fence.

I hear Cormac’s innocent voice, ‘Sure, and I was just singing one of me mammy’s songs from old Ireland, sir.’ And before the overseer can say anything more, he launches into a mournful rendition.

The song is cut off by the sound of a blow and another roar. ‘You’ve heard the commandant’s orders. No singing. Now get back to work! Over here, where I can keep an eye on you.’

The tramp of footsteps tells me that Cormac has gone, but I know we must stay where we are for a while longer. I put my fingers to my lips to emphasise the danger of our being overheard, and stay crouched down, keeping a tight hold on Susannah.

‘No singing?’ Susannah looks troubled. ‘Surely Father cannot be so cruel as to forbid such a small thing that might cheer up the convicts and make their lives a little easier to bear?’

‘Father’s way with the prisoners is not the same as his way with us,’ I whisper. ‘The convicts hate him, and so, I fear, do many of the men under him. He has already threatened Reverend Rogers with dismissal, and Elizabeth tells me that she fears for her own father’s future here.’

‘So how well do you know this Cormac?’ Susannah asks. ‘How often have you crept out to meet him?’

‘Not often.’ I hesitate. ‘It is just that we share a love of music. I am still hoping to persuade Father to let Cormac give me lessons.’

‘Does Jack Cartwright know about this?’

‘No.’ I give her a little shake. ‘And you are not to tell him. It is none of his concern.’

Susannah pulls a face. We stay silent for a time until she springs to her feet and stretches, yawning noisily. ‘I’m getting cramp,’ she complains.

‘Sshh!’ I hiss angrily. Can’t she see that she is putting Cormac in jeopardy? I stand up and point along the fence line, indicating which way we should go, before putting my finger to my lips once more in warning.

Together, we creep quietly along the fence. We have not gone far when Susannah stumbles into a shearwater’s burrow and wrenches her ankle. ‘Ouch!’

She sinks down onto the ground, groaning with pain. Alarmed, I bend over her. We are still out of sight of the guard and the convicts, but I know that we shall have to take a direct route back to the house now, for I doubt my sister will be able to walk in any comfort. The guard will certainly see us. I just hope he does not have wits enough to connect us with Cormac.

‘Here, hold on to me.’ I put an arm around Susannah’s waist and pull her upright.

Susannah leans heavily on me, limping badly. As we move out of cover and into the open once more, I risk a quick glance behind me. The guard is looking directly at us, his expression thoughtful. I shudder with fear, but force myself to give him a saucy wink. At once he smiles openly at me. I nod and turn my back, continuing to support Susannah in her painful progress back to the house.

‘I am sorry I spoiled your tête-à-tête,’ Susannah murmurs.

‘That’s not what it was!’

‘Come on, Alice, I may be younger than you, but I am not stupid. I heard what the convict said to you. I certainly won’t say anything to Mother or Father — or to Jack — but I think you are playing a very dangerous game indeed. You are taking such a risk, both of you!’

‘Don’t you start,’ I warn. ‘I have already heard all this from Elizabeth.’

‘She knows? Why did you tell her and not me?’

‘She guessed, that’s why. And I know she sometimes speaks to the convicts so she understands how grim their lives are — which is more than can be said for my own family!’

‘I understand,’ Susannah says. ‘I just don’t see any point in dwelling on it. There is nothing we can do to change Father’s attitude towards them.’

‘But we should protest about it all the same,’ I say fiercely.

‘Like you did? And did he listen to you?’

I huff in disgust, although I know my sister speaks the truth.

After receiving a scolding from Mother for venturing out without a guard to protect us, I do not dare to sneak out again. Instead, feeling penitent, I sit beside Susannah and entertain her with games of cards and chess, while periodically changing the cold flannel that binds her swollen ankle.

‘I shall look silly if the officers call on us tonight,’ she complains.

‘Not at all,’ I contradict her. ‘You will look pale and interesting stretched out on the sofa like that. You will bring out all their chivalrous instincts.’