Always: You'll Never Walk Alone (4 page)

Chapter Four

I was too stunned… too tired to speak. This couldn’t be happening. It’s a bad dream like the night before; surely I’ll wake up in a minute. I was staring into the thick hot tea, not knowing what to do next. Maybe I’ll just wait a bit longer surely someone will come and wake me. I don’t know how long I sat there before I noticed the silence in the room. Lifting my head, they were all looking at me with varying degrees of concern or worry on their faces. Even Victoria, who I’d never seen get emotional, was staring at me, and I noticed a tear in the corner of her eye… Then I knew… This wasn’t a dream… There’d be no waking up!

“I’m going to Cornwall.” Before I even thought it, I’d said it. I didn’t know how I was going to get there; I just knew that was what I had to do.

“You can’t Master Stephen.”

“I know you love her, but you can’t do anything.”

“I think you should just get to bed and think about it again in the morning.”

Everyone was speaking at the same time except Victoria, who just sat there with an expression of desolation and despair. When everyone finally ran out of things to say, she turned her gaze on me, then almost in a whisper, she began…

“Master Stephen what you want to do will be very dangerous and you’ll need to be very brave. You’re just a boy and you’ll be going up against a powerful and evil man. So you must be very sure this is what you want to do. I have dealt with evil men… they stole my family.”

“I know you all think my husband died from drinking too much, but he didn’t. Sure he liked his drink and many a night he would fall down drunk before he managed to get home. But, that is not how he died. He died trying to save our daughter from a man like Lord Beecham. She was only six years old at the time…”

Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she recalled a past that none of us had ever heard.

“Katherine was her name little Katy to everyone that knew her. Her father was a big man, he could take on three men in a fight without breaking a sweat, but little Katy could twirl him around her little finger. She had the bluest eyes you ever saw and blonde hair that hung in curls to her shoulders. We never had much money, but we were determined that Katy would not end up as a scullery maid or worse. So we paid for her to be educated by a clergyman.”

“Everything seemed to be fine at first, but after a few months she became withdrawn, the sparkle went out of her eyes and she wouldn’t let anyone touch her. We were worried of course but thought it was just a phase and would soon pass. But it didn’t it just got worse! Then one day I finished work early and went to pick her up from her schooling. I went to the church but there was no one there. I wandered around looking for her. I thought I heard voices coming from a side door, so I went over and pushed it open. There were stairs leading down. The voices were louder now, a shiver of foreboding shook my body, but I forced myself to go down. At the bottom of the stairs was a long darkly lit corridor, at the end of the corridor I could see a strange light emanating from behind a partially open door. A feeling of dread overcame me as I approached the door and I almost turned back. Just as I was about to leave I thought I heard my Katy’s voice, but it was so filled with pain I almost didn’t recognize it. Pushing against my fear I moved towards the door and opened it just enough to see in…”

Tears were streaming down her face and I thought she wouldn’t go on, but with an effort, she took a deep breath and continued. “There were strange symbols on the walls and people were chanting, although it was no chant I’d ever heard in a Christian church. An altar draped in black with the cross of our Lord suspended upside down, above it trembled in the centre. The clergyman seemed to be in some sort of a trance, his eyes rolled back in his head. Katy, four other girls and a boy stood in a circle holding long black candles. In the middle of the circle was what I could only describe as a darkness. I don’t know what it was but I knew it was something base and corrupt and it was reaching towards the children. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I just stood there in shock. Then Katy saw me her eyes widened and tears came to her eyes. Jolted out of my stupor I ran at the clergyman knocking him to the ground. Grabbing my little girl to get away from that evil I ran blindly back down the corridor. As I reached the stairs, I heard a voice full of malevolence and hate behind me. It was the clergyman.” “SHE IS MINE.”

Victoria’s shoulders were shaking with silent sobs, and Sylvie reached out and put her hand on her shoulder. Drawing a shuddering breath, she continued.

“When I got home Charlie, that’s my husband, was already there. He saw the look on my face and Katy’s tears and asked what was wrong. As I told him what had happened I saw the colour drain from his face. He just sat unmoving… Not saying a word… Not breathing… When I finished, he got up ran his hand through our baby’s hair kissed her and went out the door. I should have stopped him I know, but I could hardly even think, let alone move.”

“I don’t know how much later it was when he returned. It was dark, I had bathed Katy and put her to bed where the last thing she said before she finally fell asleep was “Did I do something bad mommy?”

Charlie came in and put his arms around me and asked after Katy, then said, “Remember I will always love you both.”

I looked up at him and saw the hurt in his eyes, then I saw the blood on his clothes.”

“The next morning the police arrived and took him. He was tried for attempted murder and sentenced to be hung.”

The tears were rolling down her cheeks as Sylvie put her arm around her to comfort her. We thought that was the end of the story, but she hadn’t quite finished.

“The day after his sentencing they came and took my child…”

A look of utter desolation took over her face as she sobbed.

“They put her in care of the church…”

“So Master Stephen.” She finally managed.

“If you really love her, I know you’ll go after her in spite of whatever we say. But be very careful, powerful men don’t live by the same laws as us.”

We sat there in shock no one saying a word. Finally, Sylvie came over, put her hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes. “You are my son and I don’t want you to go. You’re still just a child. What you want to do is very dangerous, I know you love Sarah, and I know I can’t stop you going after her if that’s your decision, but I want you to think very carefully before you go. It’s late go to bed, in the morning if you’re still determined to go, then I won’t stand in your way.” John and Ron nodded their agreement. Ron got up to leave, saying, “I’ll come back in the morning” and left.

I lay on my bed and thought about Sarah. Where was she? What was happening to her? Was she even still alive? I put that last thought out of my head she had to be alive. “Just hold on I’ll be there for you Sarah, Hold on.”

Exhaustion finally overtaking me I fell into a troubled sleep.

Early the next morning I went to the market for what would be the last time. When I returned to the Fox, everyone was up and Ron had returned. Sylvie was cooking breakfast and the aromas that I smelt every morning, drifted out to meet me. We sat around the big kitchen table and ate in silence I finished my second mug of tea and told them I would leave today. Sylvie turned away to hide her tears. Ron said, “There’s a coach leaves for St. Ives at 10.00 this morning.” And he handed me a ticket.

“From there you’ll have to make your way to Castle Harvard. I don’t know how far it is. You’ll have to search it out once you get there.”

I knew the ticket would have been expensive and Ron would have had difficulty paying for it. I thanked him and assured him I would pay him back as soon as I could.

“Don’t you worry about that, you just make sure you get back safe now.”

Victoria came up to me put her arms around me, holding me in a tight embrace said, “You be careful Master Stephen, I want you back here within a week. If you think I’m going to do your chores for any longer than that, then think again.”

“Alright Vickie.” I smiled

“Victoria”!

“Sorry Vick…Victoria.”

“Here take this.” She put a pound note in my hand. “I’ll expect it back next week.”

John had been silent ‘til now. He turned to me - “Son, I promised your father I would look after you, and I’ve done the best I could. Now you’re setting out on your own and I can’t be there for you. I know I can trust you to do the right thing so I’m not worried about that, but doing the right thing may still get you in trouble. So be very careful. Whatever happens I’m very proud of you and I know your father would be if he could see you now.”

“Thank you John, I won’t disappoint you. You’re the best father I could’ve had. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful and when I get back maybe we can go out for oysters and a beer, together.”

“Yeah I’d like that. Be a chance to get away from the missus… get a bit of peace and quiet for an hour.”

I looked at Sylvie, who was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. “Will that be okay with you Sylvie?”

“That will be just perfect. Us girls could do with a break from you men. Maybe I’ll take Sarah to one of those new coffee shops that are opening up. I’ve been wanting to see what coffee tastes like. Then maybe we’ll go for a promenade in the West-end and see some real gentlemen.”

She threw her arms around me and said, “Come back safe”, before rushing out of the kitchen.

“Well if you’re going to catch that coach we’d better get moving.” Said Ron getting up.

So, this was it. I was leaving the Fox, and my family, for the first time in my life. Could I do this? I had to! Sarah needed me. I’d do it whatever the cost - We would be back together again!

We got up and went to the front door. Victoria hugged me and I felt her tears on my neck. I shook hands with John, when I withdrew my hand there was a five-pound note in it. I looked at the money, then back at John. “It’s from me and the missus, you’re gonna need to eat, and we’ll be expecting a souvenir.”

I thanked him and took a last look around the tavern, as I turned to go Sylvie came back and held me in her arms, until finally Ron said, “We have to go.”

Chapter Five

The coach left from Victoria, so we had a long way to go across London. It had warmed up slightly from the last couple of days and the snow that had been so clean and white was now just a dirty brown slush, which served to slow our progress and soak our feet. The city was as loud and crowded as always, but I hardly noticed. We walked along the familiar streets in silence, except for the occasional times when Ron would say hello to friends or acquaintances, but he never stopped to chat. Finally, we reached the coach station. We searched out the correct coach, and the driver told us we had half an hour before departure. Ron confirmed my seat then took me to a stall selling hot tea, scones and thick sandwiches.

“So, Master Stephen, you’ll be on your way pretty soon. Is there anything else I can do before you leave?”

I told him he’d done more than enough and I’d find a way to repay him as soon as I returned. There was just one question I had…

“Ron, where is Cornwall?”

He looked at me in astonishment for a second. Then the astonishment was replaced with a smile. “Well, well, Master Stephen, you certainly are something. Here you are going off on a mission to find Sarah and you don’t even know where you’re going! Cornwall is on the South West Coast. It’s about three hundred miles from here.”

I was shocked, I had no idea it was so far, but I kept my surprise to myself.

“So then how long will it take to get there?”

“You’ll be there in four days.”

Four days! I had no idea it was so far! I’d never been outside of London before, and now I was going to the far end of the country by myself. A shiver of doubt ran through my body. Was this too big for me to take on?

Ron must have seen my uncertainty, “It’s not too late to change your mind, Master Stephen. No one will think any less of you if you don’t go.”

I wanted to stay. Go back home to my family and friends and the comfortable routine of the Fox. But I couldn’t. Sarah needed me and I realized that for better or worse my life had changed. It changed the moment I met her. To John and Sylvie I would always be their boy, ‘Master Stephen’, but as every boy knows, he has to become a man one day and the journey was starting for me now. I would always love my family and the Fox would always be my home, but now it was time for me to move on.

“Thanks Ron, I’ll be fine. Sarah’s in trouble, she has no one else, I’m not a kid anymore.”

Ron looked at me for a long moment before saying. “I guess you’re right, Stephen. You’re almost a man now.”

It was the first time he’d called me Stephen, not Master Stephen, and I felt my confidence grow. I was almost a man. I could do this.

Over the noise of the station, we heard the shout of the driver announcing the departure and drank down the last of our tea. At the coach, Ron took my hand in his firm grip and wished me good luck. Then taking me in his arms, gave me a hug and said goodbye. I was on my own. I showed the driver my ticket and climber into the coach. There was an older couple sitting opposite me and I said hello. The lady sniffed, the man just ignored me, so I looked out the window at the crowds rushing to and fro, the impatient drivers loading the bags, and the horses standing complacently, waiting to start their long journey’s across the country. I was just thinking that these horses had seen more of England than I was ever likely to when someone else climbing into the coach interrupted my thoughts. I turned to see who our other travelling companion would be, and was shocked to discover that it was Mr. Mortimer; the same man who’d arrived on the coach that brought Sarah to the Fox. I said hello but he obviously didn’t recognize me, so I introduced myself. He seemed a little uncomfortable at my recognition, but asked after the people at the Fox and inquired as to why I was on the coach. I told him I was going to see a friend in Cornwall and left it at that. He introduced himself to the couple sitting opposite. They told him they were returning to Devon, which I later found out was the last stop before Cornwall. Their name was Chisholm they owned property in Exeter and had been visiting London for the first time. Mr. Chisholm had enjoyed it immensely, but Mrs. Chisholm said she thought it was dirty, noisy and smelly, looking at me as she said this last word. The driver interrupted their conversation, telling us we were leaving, and announcing that our first stop would be in Kingston. He closed and latched the door climbed up to his seat, snapped his whip and with a jerk we were on our way.

I felt a chill of fear in my stomach as we left the station: there was no turning back now. Then I thought that within a few days I would be in Cornwall and one way or another I would be back with Sarah. The chill was replaced with a smile as I thought of seeing her again.

“You’re looking very happy, Master Stephen.” It was Mr. Mortimer.

“I, I… was just thinking of going to Cornwall. I’ve never been out of London before.”

Mrs. Chisholm looked disapprovingly at me and sniffed again before taking out some embroidery, then studiously avoided looking at me for the rest of our journey together.

Mr. Mortimer turned to Mr. Chisholm and asked him about his properties in Exeter and they spent the next hour discussing property values in London and Exeter. Once again, Mr. Mortimer said he was in finance, but was somewhat evasive when pressed for details. I turned back to the window and watched as the dirt and grime of the city gradually disappeared, replaced with the limpid beauty of the country. I’d never seen so many trees - And then as if to welcome me on my journey, the sun came out for the first time in weeks.

We drove through the village of Wimbledon, the road becoming nothing but a muddy track. The snow was melting faster now under the bright sun, making it harder for the horses to pull the heavy carriage. Reaching the top of Wimbledon Hill the driver pulled over to rest and water the horses. Calling down to us from his seat, he told us we were stopping for about ten minutes if we wanted to get out and stretch our legs.

My three travelling companions remained in the coach but I took the opportunity to get out and look around. Stepping out of the carriage, I found myself ankle deep in mud and horse manure. We obviously weren’t the first coach to have stopped here this morning. From our vantage point at the top of the hill, I could see for miles. The wind quivered then died completely. With the sun in the clear blue sky it felt like spring, but a spring like no other I’d ever experienced. It took me a minute to figure out what was different. It was the smell, or the lack of smell: for the first time in my entire life, there was no stench of rotting garbage, no sewage… well, except for a slight whiff of horse manure from my feet. I took a deep breath and my whole body was infused with a feeling of renewal. I realized for the first time how little I knew of the world. Even Wimbledon, not more than twenty miles from where I lived, was like a completely new world. What would Cornwall be like? Three hundred miles further! What new things would I see? I realized now that for better or worse, by the time I returned to London I would be a different person from the boy who was leaving today… And then the driver was calling me back. It was time to get on our way once more.

I climbed back into the carriage to be greeted by another sniff from Mrs. Chisholm. Mr. Mortimer asked me what I thought of Wimbledon. But, without waiting for a reply he suggested that maybe it would be a good idea to get out and clean my shoes. I’d gotten used to the smell and actually quite liked it, but since I had to spend four more days with these people I agreed, jumped down and avoiding the manure, cleaned off my shoes in the snow. Returning to the carriage the driver whipped the horses and I fell back onto my seat, almost kicking Mrs. Chisholm as I did. This brought an angry glare from her before she returned ever more intently to her embroidery.

The horses, rested and watered, took off down the hill and in no time at all we were at our first scheduled stop, Kingston. The day had warmed up considerably when we pulled up to the Park Tavern, a seventeenth century inn set right next to the river. I asked the driver which river it was, and when he told me it was the Thames, I didn’t believe him. This was the same river that ran through London? It was so clean, the grass ran right up to its edge, two young boys had lines dipping in the water, and I could see fish lying at their feet. The snow now almost completely melted, dripped off the trees like rain. Just as I turned to go into the tavern two enormous horned animals shot off across the field not more than twenty feet in front of me. I was so startled I almost yelled. The driver, who’d been watching me, broke into a great laugh, sounding like one of his horses snorting. “Scared me the first time I saw one too.”

“What were they?”

“They’re deer. There’re ‘undreds of them ‘round here. Be a nice bit of venison if you didn’t mind the King’s gamekeeper coming after you.” He smiled, and led me into the tavern.

It was smaller than the Fox; the ceilings could not have been much more than six feet high and there was just enough room for six tables. The walls were stone, and a large stone fireplace took up all of one wall. As I walked through the door, it felt like returning home; the smell of beer, warm food and a hundred years of wood smoke was the same as I’d left just a few hours earlier.

The driver and the owner were obviously old friends and greeted each other warmly. The Chisholms and Mr. Mortimer were already seated. The driver looked over at them, winked at me and said, “Let’s sit over here, son, I think we’ll be more comfortable.”

We sat down at the bar with the owner. “What’s your name son?”

I introduced myself and the driver told me his name was James Wallace “but call me Jim, and this is Mike. He’s been the proprietor here since I was a boy.”

Mike shook my hand and said “Nice to meet you Stephen. How far are you going?”

I told him I was going all the way to Cornwall to see a friend.

“Must be a really good friend to travel three hundred miles to see.” He winked at Jim.

I grinned and agreed that it was.

“We have a nice mutton stew that I can recommend. Cooked it m’self this morning…”

The loud voice of Mr. Mortimer interrupted us. “We would like to order some lunch, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Ah, yes sir, sorry sir. Our special today is lamb borgy-none. I can highly recommend it. It’s so fresh I could still hear the poor little lamb bleating just ten minutes ago. Had to turn up the heat to shut the little bugger up.”

They all agreed on the lamb. He then turned to us and asked “And two mutton stews?”

He disappeared into the kitchen, returning with five big bowls of stew and a loaf of bread. After serving Mr. Mortimer and the Chisholms, who found fault with everything from the cleanliness of the table to the size of the bowls, he returned to us and sat down. “Bleedin’ upper classes, never ‘appy ‘nless they’re complainin’.”

We finished our stew and Mike poured us some beer before clearing the bowls away and checking on his other customers. Jim drank his beer in one big gulp, belched loudly, then asked for another. Mike told him he’d better slow down or he’d be stopping every few miles to relieve himself. Jim replied that since the horses didn’t bother to stop to relieve themselves, he didn’t see any reason why he should have to stop either, and ordered another. Finishing the last pint he banged the tankard down on the bar and announced it was time to go. We paid our bill, and then heard Mr. Mortimer announce loudly that he would be happy to pay his bill and the Chisholms’. He approached Mike and asked him for the total.

“That’ll be one and nine pence.”

“One and nine pence for that? Why, it was almost inedible.”

“Yeah, well, it never made it into Ed Dibble but it did make it into you. That will be one and nine pence.” And he thrust out his hand.

Mr. Mortimer reached into his trouser pockets and then his jacket pockets then back into his trouser pockets before announcing, “I’ve been robbed. Call the police.”

“I’ll call the police alright and I’ll have you arrested. You’re not going to get out of paying using that old trick.”

“Trick? How dare you, I’m a respected businessman, and you dare to accuse me. You should be flogged you, you…”

“I dare as much as I want, and if you don’t pay, you’ll be in the stew instead of eatin’ it.”

Mr. Chisholm intervened before they came to blows and settled the bill. Mr. Mortimer apologized to Mr. Chisholm and assured him, he would make it up to him as soon as they reached the next major city. With that, we said our good-byes to Mike and returned to the coach. As we reached it, Jim asked if I would like to ride up front with him since it had turned into such a nice day. I jumped at the opportunity but suggested he let me know before he decided to relieve himself.

“You don’t have to worry, Stephen, I’m an old hand at this.”

“Well it’s not exactly your hand I was worried about.”

“Alright, alright, just for you I’ll have a quick one before we go.”

Turning towards the closest tree, he let loose with a long stream just as Mrs. Chisholm drew level with us. She let out such a piercing scream that Jim, who hadn’t seen her arrive, jumped and almost fell over, causing his stream to fly around soaking a cat was skulking close by. The cat, shocked by the scream and angry at its unexpected soaking let out a loud meow, hissed, and jumped at Jim, sinking its claws into his leg. Jim in turn let out an almighty bellow and in an attempt to shake the cat from his leg spun around, showering Mrs. Chisholm with a spray of her own. At this new outrage, Mrs. Chisholm, now speechless, turned purple. I thought she was going to have a heart attack as she sputtered “You, I, you, I…”