Cat's Cradle (22 page)

‘Can you think of any more mistakes I've made today? I might as well hear them all in one go.'

Bridgit tapped the door to get my attention.

‘Hey, we all made that one together, so don't feel too bad about it. It could've worked.'

‘But it didn't. What chance do you think we have of convincing the Bruces that we had in mind the news about me?'

‘Very little, I'm afraid. It's a bit too much of a stretch for them – they like gold and silver. I'd better go back.'

‘Try to get them to send Jamie on his way. He was only the messenger after all. No need for all of us to be stuck here, and he might be able to fetch help.'

‘That's why they won't let him go. They aren't bothering to question him – it's only you and me they're interested in. I expect they'll come for you soon.'

‘Anything is better than sitting in this hole.'

Alone again, I settled back on my sofa of
potato sacks. At least I wasn't going to starve, no matter how long they kept me locked up.

In the darkness, my thoughts revolved around Rabbie Bruce.

My brother.

What did that really mean? I'd been blessed with many good friends in Drury Lane. Syd, Pedro and Frank had always stood in for family. They made exemplary brothers, looking out for me, encouraging me when I was low, laughing with me during the good times – and there had been plenty of those. Lizzie and Johnny had opened their home to me. Bridgit was fast becoming an honorary older sister, as were my friends across the Atlantic – Kanawha, Jenny and Georgie. I'd told myself I had no one on my side when all the time I'd had legions of people behind me. Why had I followed up this link to Rabbie against all warnings, even knowing that our relationship was no more than an accident of birth? I had made a romantic nonsense about the importance of kinship, and look where it had got me.

And yet, they say blood is thicker than water . . .

My turn to be questioned was not long in coming. I had barely had time to doze off when the door opened and I found my brother, candle in hand, looking down at me.

‘Come along,' he muttered. ‘Ye're wanted upstairs.'

Stiffly, I got to my feet and shook out my wrinkled petticoats. He stood back to let me pass as if even the merest touch of my person would sully him. But we were on our own: I wouldn't have a better chance than this to try to get through to him. I turned on the bottom step, blocking the way up. We were eye to eye this way, which suited me.

‘I'm sorry I blurted out the news just now, but that doesn't change the fact that I am your sister –' I corrected myself, ‘your half-sister. That is what I came to tell you. There's no bequest from Mrs Moir unless you count me.'

‘Get out the way,' Rabbie said brusquely. His
voice was still as high as mine, reminding me for all his size that he was only twelve, and I had just blown his mother's reputation apart with my cannonball of news. I could understand him being angry. ‘I dinna want to hear nae more of yer blethering.'

‘Even if it's the truth? Our aunt told me about Jesse Stirling just before she died – that's why I haven't come before.'

He pushed me aside. ‘Ye lie. My mither was a good woman. She wouldna have had any by-starts.'

His refusal to listen set light to the fuse on my anger again. I was furious he was making me out to be the villain of this piece when I had been the victim. It was time he acknowledged that. I dodged in front of him again.

‘For your information, our mother left me on a doorstep in London in order to marry your father and have you. If that makes her a good woman, then I'm an eight-foot giant.'

I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, spoken partly through jealousy as all along
I'd been acutely aware that he was the child she had chosen over me. Rabbie looked fit to explode, red in the face, fists clenched.

‘Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean that,' I said, holding my hands out in front of me to keep him away. ‘She must have been trying to survive the best she could. Good and bad don't really come into it. I don't remember her either so we'll never know.'

Rabbie stabbed me in the chest with a finger to emphasize each word. ‘I . . . dinna . . . believe . . . ye.'

He took off up the stairs, leaving me to follow or not as I liked. Trailing after him in the dark, I wondered if I could make a run for it, but the entrance to the tower house was barred for the night when I checked – no escape there. I couldn't think of another way out, windows on the lower floors being no more than arrow slits, nor could I stomach the idea of leaving my friends.

So, choosing warmth over my cold cellar, I entered the main chamber. The Bruces were seated around the fire, empty plates witness to the fact that they'd just finished eating. Bridgit perched
in a window niche with Jamie. They both looked up on my entrance and I gave them a brief smile to signal all was well.

‘Well, if it isna the wee Sassenach!' crowed Malcolm. ‘Rabbie's sister from London!'

All the Bruces with the exception of Rabbie seemed to find this very funny.

‘So kind o' ye to pay a family visit. Why dinna ye tell us where the bequest is and be on yer way?'

‘You'll let us go?' I asked doubtfully, rubbing my arms to stop shivering.

‘My word as an honest man.' Malcolm Bruce's smile was chilling.

The big grey-bearded man who had knocked me down earlier was sitting on a bench opposite Malcolm. He now laughed meanly, ‘Aye, we'll let ye go – we'll set ye loose on the moss in the middle o' the blizzard. But it seems to me ye might just choose to stay here the night.'

‘Wheest, Willy! Keep yer tongue between yer teeth,' chided Malcolm.

The big man just laughed the louder and took a gulp of his drink.

I moved a step closer to the fire. Rabbie was again sitting on a stool by the hearth but he wasn't looking at me. Instead he was toying with a knife, stabbing it in and out of its scabbard.

‘The truth is –' I cleared my throat. This was a more hostile audience than even the one that had thrown rotten eggs at me in Kingston.
*
‘The truth is, there is no bequest. I came only to tell Rabbie that I had discovered that we were brother and sister. The note was bait, to get him alone to give me a chance to explain.'

‘I told ye there wasna money in it for us,' grunted Willy to the chief. ‘Ye should get rid of her – she's trouble, she is.'

Malcolm did not reply to his adviser but narrowed his eyes at me speculatively. ‘Ye still claim to be Jesse's wean?'

‘So I've been told. Jesse Stirling left me behind in London.'

Malcolm crossed his legs at the ankles, his muddy boot nudging a big black lump of a dog
lying on the hearthrug. It growled softly but did not shift. ‘My uncle, her husband, didna mention a lass from an earlier marriage.'

‘Well, he wouldn't. There wasn't a marriage. I was a . . .' I shrugged, ‘. . . a mistake, I suppose.'

‘Dinna listen to her,' interrupted Rabbie, digging the knifepoint into a log. ‘She's speaking ill o' my mither who canna answer back.'

Malcolm poked his little cousin in the arm. ‘Yer mither speaks through the lass, Rabbie: she is the spit o' Jesse. I ken the lass spoke true the moment she made the claim.'

What! He knew?

Rabbie leapt to his feet, fist clenched around the knife hilt. ‘Nae. Ye always said my mither was a fine woman.'

Malcolm smiled, unperturbed by his cousin's warlike stance. ‘Aye, that she was. So she kept quiet about her by-start? That only means she was a canny one. Are ye no going to greet yer sister now ye ken the truth?'

To my horror, I realized that Malcolm was taunting the boy, pouring oil on his fiery temper.

Rabbie said nothing, just glared at me. I tried a smile but my lips would not cooperate. Why was Malcolm purposely stoking up Rabbie's anger? Was he hoping to see him lose his control?

‘Look, there she is. Come all this way to see ye.' Malcolm gave him a little push towards me.

‘I want naething to do wi' her.' Rabbie sheathed the knife and stormed out, disappearing up the stairs. I couldn't believe it: my brother didn't even want to know the truth!

I swallowed down the tears that had gathered at the back of my throat. ‘That was cruel,' I said, ‘telling him like that.'

Malcolm laughed and beckoned me closer. ‘Aye, life is cruel, lass. Now the lad has gone away, tell me where the bequest is hid.'

I sat down heavily on my brother's abandoned stool. I felt chewed up and spat out. Rejected again.

‘I told the truth. There is no bequest.' I shook my head wearily. ‘The Moirs are poor. What could our aunt possibly have left Rabbie?'

‘Ye tell me. Ye had the letter.'

‘I've explained that already. What could be
more valuable than finding out you had a sister?'

‘I believe Rabbie can think o' a rickle o' things he'd rather have.'

I crossed my arms on my knees and bent my head forward to rest on them. It must have been past midnight and I felt exhausted.

‘What do you intend to do with us, Mr Bruce?' asked Bridgit from her corner, stepping in to draw attention from me.

‘I havena made up my mind. Ye might still have something for me –'

‘I swear that we don't,' I interjected.

‘Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I canna let ye go and make trouble wi' the law. I'll tell ye before noon what I've decided. Willy!'

The old man sat up with a jolt from his daze. He'd been cuddling a jug of whisky like a child would a rag doll. ‘What now, man?'

‘Take our guests to the upper room and give them some blankets. We dinna want them freezing the night.'

Grumbling, Willy grabbed a lantern and beckoned us to follow him. We followed him in
silence, saving our discussion until we were alone. The old man led us up the uneven stone steps, his vast shadow like a cloak of darkness at his heels making it hard for us to see our way. Jamie stumbled once or twice until he finally succumbed to putting on his glasses. He gave me an embarrassed smile when he saw that I had noticed.

Passing a number of closed doors on the steep climb up, we emerged on to a narrow rampart at the very top of the tower, at the level of the pitched roof. A few yards away, a door opened off the battlements into another storeroom. From the gentle cooing and acrid odour of bird droppings, I could tell we were also near the dovecote.

Entering the attic, Willy took three blankets out of a large chest and threw them towards us.

‘Make yerselves at home,' he said, managing to make it sound a sinister offer. ‘I'll leave ye the lantern but dinna forget to blow it out before ye sleep. Naebody will come and save ye if ye set light to the place and ye'll be the first to burn.'

With that he left us, his boots ringing on the
stones outside. Out of sight, his strong voice bellowed a song to the echoing passageway:

‘Gie him strong drink until he wink,
That's sinking in despair . . .'

The rest of the words were lost in the night.

‘What a horrid man,' Bridgit said when the noise of his departure had faded. ‘He hit you earlier.'

From my kind friend, this was a serious insult.

‘Yes, horrid,' I replied, clutching my shawl closer to my shoulders. ‘There's a razor-edge to him, unlike Malcolm who seems half-decent, apart from his stubbornness about the bequest and a cruel desire to taunt his cousin. I can't understand Malcolm. Doesn't he like Rabbie?'

‘I expect he sees him as a rival,' explained Jamie as he listened at the door for a moment. ‘Before his death, Rabbie's faither ruled the roost. Malcolm is worried your brother will grow up and try to take his place. He's trying to keep him down under his boot-heel. Nae wonder Malcolm was so
pleased to meet the by-start sister. Ye've given him a weapon to use on the lad.'

‘Lovely. That explains why my brother is so delighted to see me.'

No noise from the battlements, Jamie tried the door. To our surprise it opened, but before we could get too excited about this we discovered that the door to the stairs down was bolted from the other side. Unless we jumped off the snow-covered roof and flew away like the doves, we were trapped.

‘Rope?' suggested Jamie.

We searched the stores by lamplight but found none. I turned my examination to our blankets, wondering if we could tie them together, but we were at least forty feet off the ground and I doubted we had enough cloth to make a decent rope ladder.

Bridgit was the first to give up this idea. She sat down on her blanket and wrapped it around her.

‘I don't know about you, but I think we should wait till morning.'

Jamie yawned and nodded. ‘Aye.'

I showed my agreement by grabbing my blanket and cuddling up close to Bridgit. The storeroom was freezing and full of draughts.

Jamie noticed my shivers. ‘It's going to be cold the night wi'out a fire. We must make the best defence we can. I'll drag some o' these boxes around us. Maybe that will help.'

Bridgit and I got up to assist him in sliding the chests and barrels into place. Soon we had constructed a little castle within a castle with just enough space for three cold inhabitants. We settled down once more, with the lantern by our feet.

Bridgit slipped her arm around my shoulders. ‘All right?' she asked.

‘Everything's just fine and dandy.'

Jamie nudged my foot in a friendly gesture. ‘I tried to talk to Rabbie, Catherine, but he wouldna listen. Maybe tomorrow he'll feel different about it all.'

‘Perhaps. But I'd save your breath to cool your porridge – he's not going to change so quickly.'

‘What do you think they will do with us,
Jamie?' Bridgit asked. She was trying to sound brave but her voice shook a little. We all pretended not to notice.

Jamie shrugged. ‘I canna say. I think if they were going to kill us, they would have done so. Even the Bruces do not like to murder in cold blood. And ye heard the man: one o' us is a sister – that does mean something to Malcolm. He willna harm his cousin's kin wi'out good reason.'