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Authors: Valerie Wood

Tags: #Sagas, #Fiction

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BOOK: The Long Walk Home
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He barely slept, and when he did drop off his sleep was punctuated with nightmarish dreams of hangings and pitching ships on heavy seas.

As dawn was creeping through the narrow window, the door of his cell was abruptly opened and a man flung inside. Mikey sat up and put his hands to his head, bemused for a few seconds as to where he was and where were his brothers who shared his bed.

He gazed at the intruding stranger, who had landed in the opposite corner of the cell and was glaring, bleary-eyed and hostile, at him. 'Who are you?' the man grunted. 'Nivver seen you afore.'

'Quinn,' Mikey muttered. He didn't like the look of the newcomer at all. He had an angular face, a long nose and wild black hair. He looked aggressive and seemed the worse for drink.

'Quinn? What sort o' name is that?'

Mikey shrugged. 'Dunno. It's mine. Onny one I've got.'

'Onny one you've got! Haven't you got another?' The man continued to glare, menacingly, Mikey thought.

'Mikey,' he said. 'That's my first name.'

'Hm!' His cellmate considered, his eyes keen. 'I'll call you Quinn.' He leaned across the floor and grabbed Mikey by the wrist. 'You can call me Tully.'

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

Tully! Mikey shrank back against the wall. He'd heard of Tully. It was a name to be feared. Robber. Murderer. Embezzler. Every crime that was not resolved was attributed to Tully. Mothers of disobedient children threatened that they'd send for Tully if they didn't behave, but as far as Mikey knew no one had ever set eyes on him. He was a threatening shadow of a bogeyman, and now he was sharing Mikey's cell.

He leaned towards Mikey, still holding him by the wrist. 'Got any poppy?' he whispered.

Mikey shook his head. 'Got no money either,' he said in a hoarse voice.

Tully let go of his wrist in an impatient gesture. 'Damned peazans. Good for nowt.' He sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. 'What you in for?'

'Stealing rabbits from 'butcher.'

'A pair?'

Mikey nodded. 'I dropped one. Somebody else picked it up.'

'Careless,' Tully growled. 'The trick is to keep tight hold of 'em by their necks. Which butcher?'

Mikey described the shop in the Market Place. 'Don't know his name.'

'Smith, I'll bet. He'll not drop 'charges.'

Mikey stared at him, then licked his lips. 'Will I be hanged?'

Tully gave a harsh laugh. 'This your first time?'

When Mikey nodded, he said, 'No. But you'll get sent down; mebbe a month. You'll not like it. Nobody does first off.' He yawned, a great gawping yawn showing blackened teeth. 'But you get used to it. I even know some folk who break 'law deliberate like, just to come inside for a bit.'

He lay down on his side, facing Mikey. 'Wake me up in time for breakfast. Tell 'warder I'll have a nice slice o' bacon wi' my bread, and a hot cup o' tea.' He closed his eyes, then opened one of them. 'I'll buy your bread off you if you don't fancy it. Not everybody does when mice have been dancing over it.'

Mikey was familiar with mice. Their room at home was infested with them. The mice were as hungry as the family was. 'I'll want it,' he muttered.

He didn't sleep any more but watched the daylight creeping round the cell and listened to Tully's snoring. The man had rolled over on to his back and with his head back and his mouth open, his whistles and snorts might have woken the dead.

Wonder what he's in for? Dare I ask him? Suppose he takes offence if I do? He could beat me up and no one would know. They could find me throttled when they bring our bread and water. He kept an anxious eye on his cellmate, too wary to relax his guard.

Tully woke with a start when the constable rattled the door. He was instantly alert, though his eyes were half closed as he peered at Mikey; then he put his finger to his mouth.

'This lad's sick,' he muttered to the officer. 'Kept me awake wi' his belly-aching. You'd better fetch him some more bread afore he passes out on you. It'll not do if he collapses in 'dock. You'll get 'blame.'

'Not me, Tully. I've onny just come on duty.' The constable gave a wry grin. 'You tried that on last time you were in.'

'Oh! Is it you, Benton?' Tully pretended he couldn't see and screwed his eyes up at the warder. 'Well, how 'andsome you've become. I didn't recognize you. What happened to that warty nose and bloodshot eye?' He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. 'Oh, yes! Sorry, my mistake. They're still there.'

Benton shoved a metal tray containing two cups of water and two slices of bread towards Mikey. 'Don't get mixed up wi' him,' he warned as if Mikey had had a choice in the matter. 'He'll lead you into worse trouble than you're in now.'

Tully grabbed a cup and took the thicker slice of bread. 'Shove off, Benton. We don't want 'likes o' you in here wi' us. Lets 'tone of 'place down.'

Mikey wanted to laugh, feeling a sneaky admiration for Tully's bravado. How dare he insult a police officer in that way? Wasn't he scared of what the man might say when he came up before the magistrate?

'Listen.' Tully took a gulp of water and dropped his voice when the warder had left. 'When you go up afore 'bench, plead guilty and mitigating circumstances. Can you remember that?'

'Don't know.' Mikey wasn't even sure he could say it, and he certainly didn't know what it meant. 'My ma said I had to plead guilty.'

'Wise woman, your ma.' Tully chewed on the dry bread. 'What about your da?'

'Dead. Lost at sea.'

'There you are then! Tell 'em you're 'chief breadwinner; your ma is sick and so on. Give 'em a sob story.'

Mikey nodded. 'I was going to.'

'Oh!' Tully seemed peeved. 'Don't need my advice, then. Got it all planned.'

'Oh, no.' Mikey didn't want to upset him. 'I'd be grateful for any advice. It's just that my ma sent a message and said I had to plead guilty.'

Tully continued chewing and gazed thoughtfully at Mikey. Then he glanced at the slice of uneaten bread in Mikey's hand. 'Don't you want that?'

Mikey suddenly felt sick. 'No.' He handed the bread to Tully. 'You can have it if you like.'

'For free?' Tully grabbed it. 'You're a green lad, Quinn. Don't ever give owt away. There's a price for everything.' He bit into Mikey's breakfast and chewed, his eyes constantly on him. 'If we get sent to 'same place, I'll look out for you. Just mention my name and you'll be all right. Just say you're a pal o' Tully's and you'll gain respect.' He nodded his dark unkempt head. 'Don't forget, now.'

Mikey was taken into the court room at ten o'clock. He'd rinsed his hands and face in a bowl of cold water and patted down his unruly hair. He was shaking with nerves and disbelief that he was in this situation. He had friends and acquaintances who regularly stole food or small items that they could sell, and he had heard of some notorious people of the district who had stolen pocket books, gloves, and once a gold-topped walking cane that had been laid down for a moment whilst the rightful owner contemplated a purchase.

Mikey had thought these stories mildly amusing and considered that the loss of such possessions was solely due to carelessness. If he had been the owner of similar items he would have held on tight to them so that no thief could ever steal them. Now, however, amusement had been replaced by fright as he stood trembling and handcuffed in the dock.

He answered to his name and the charge was read out. 'There is a witness to this incident, I understand,' the magistrate, Mr Zachariah Pearson, commented. 'Is Mr Kendall in court?'

Mr Kendall was in court and Mikey saw the man who had stopped his headlong flight take the stand.

'You saw what happened, Mr Kendall?' the magistrate asked. 'I believe you were able to apprehend the accused?'

'Indeed I was.' Kendall lifted his sharp nose and gazed at Mikey. 'And if I hadn't done so, there might well have been a more serious charge.'

'What do you mean by that?' Mr Pearson enquired. 'Was the defendant intent on other misdoings?'

'I believe that in attempting to make his escape, he would have stopped at nothing, nor let anyone stand in his way,' Kendall answered. 'My young daughter was in his path and he was heading straight towards her; had I not seized him he might well have caused her serious injury.'

No. No, I wouldn't, Mikey thought. I had seen her. That's why I didn't swerve.

'In my opinion,' Kendall continued, 'he is a dangerous young criminal.'

'Yes, possibly.' The magistrate pondered. 'But this is his first appearance and we cannot, as you well know, Mr Kendall, charge someone with what they might or might not have done had the circumstances been otherwise.' He took a deep breath. 'So the charge stands at stealing a pair of rabbits from Mr Smith the butcher. Has Mr Smith had trouble from Quinn previously?'

'He says he's seen him hanging about, sir,' the arresting constable said. 'But he's never caught him stealing before.'

'Not
caught
him,' Mr Pearson queried. 'Does that mean he has seen him stealing?'

'No, I don't think so, sir. It's just a manner of speech.'

'What have you to say for yourself, Quinn?' The magistrate turned and frowned at Mikey. 'Do you plead guilty to the charge?'

'Yes, I do, sir.' Mikey spoke in a low voice. 'And I'm very sorry. I'd offer to pay 'butcher back but I've no money. I've been trying for work but haven't been able to get any. My ma's not well and we've no money for food. I saw 'rabbits hanging outside 'shop and was tempted.' He licked his dry lips. 'I just fancied some rabbit stew.'

'Well, I dare say,' Mr Pearson said. 'But just because we fancy something doesn't mean we can help ourselves to it. Especially if that something belongs to someone else. There are rules and there are laws, and without those rules and laws society would break down and there would be lawlessness throughout the whole of the country. Do you understand me, Quinn?'

'Yes, sir.' Mikey hung his head, trying to look as meek and sorry as he felt. The magistrate seemed fairly understanding, he thought. Perhaps he would let him off with a caution to be on his best behaviour in future.

'However,' the justice continued, 'I am mindful that this is your first offence and understand that, very foolishly, you thought you were helping your mother by bringing home some ill-gained supper. I hope that if you are given a short sharp lesson you might not be tempted into such misdemeanours again.' He shuffled through some papers, tapped them on the desk and then took off his spectacles. 'I therefore sentence you to one month in prison.'

A cry rang out from the public gallery. Mikey knew it was his mother even before she started to call his name. 'No! Mikey! No! Please, sir, no!'

Mikey was led away by two police constables. One of them was Benton, who gave him a shove when they were going down the steps to the cells. 'That'll larn you, my lad. When you've broken up a ton o' stones you'll not want to come back here again.'

'No, I won't.' Mikey could hardly stop the tears from falling. What would his ma do without him? Who would watch out for his brothers and his sister? He had always been the reliable one, the one his mother could depend upon.

'And don't get mixed up wi' Tully,' Benton continued. 'He'll have you doing jobs for him, running errands and so on. He'll promise you 'world and a quick way of getting rich.' He opened a cell door, took a key from his pocket and unfastened Mikey's handcuffs. 'Go on,' he said roughly. 'Get in there and wait.'

'Is this where I do my time?' Mikey grasped the bars.

The two constables laughed. 'You should be so lucky,' Benton said. 'This is a holding cell. Somebody'll come and fetch you and take you to Kingston Street. You'll serve your time there.'

Mikey nodded. He'd cry when they'd gone, but not before. He wouldn't let them see how frightened he was, or how he was missing his mother. I want to go home, he thought desperately.

Bridget was allowed in to see him. 'Your ma wouldn't come,' she said, peering through the barred door. 'She said she couldn't bear to see you locked up. I said I'd come instead and tell her how you were bearing up.'

'Are you enjoying this?' Mikey muttered. She seemed very perky. 'A bit of excitement for you, is it?'

'Well there's thanks!' Bridget retaliated. 'I had to coax 'constable to let me in.'

'How did you do that?'

She tossed her head. 'Never you mind. I just did. Anyway, your ma said was there owt you wanted? I told her they wouldn't keep you in here. You'll probably go to Kingston Street in 'morning, so if there's owt you want I'll have to fetch it in today.'

Mikey pondered that Bridget was very well informed. Did she wheedle that information from the warder too?

'No, there's nowt. Ma hasn't got any money so there's no use in asking.' He sighed. 'If there was a bit o' pie I wouldn't mind, but I don't suppose there is. I expect there'll be some more bread and water later on.' He was hungry now, and wished that he hadn't given his bread to Tully.

'I'll tell you what,' she whispered. 'I know 'baker's delivery lad.' She winked. 'I'll see if he's got owt spare in his basket.'

'What? How do you mean?'

Bridget gave an exasperated sigh. 'Never mind. I'll try to get back later.' She started to walk away, but then turned back. She stood on tiptoe and pressed her face to the bars. 'Come here,' she said.

Mikey did as she bade and put his face to the bars, expecting her to murmur something into his ear that she didn't want the hovering constable to hear.

'Give us a kiss then,' she said softly. 'If I'm going to fetch you some dinner, it's 'least you can offer.'

Mikey frowned. Why would she want a kiss? She wasn't his mother. He was startled when Bridget took his face in her hands and kissed him full on the mouth, even running her tongue over his lips. He pulled back. It wasn't that it was unpleasant; just unexpected.

'That your first time of kissing a girl, Mikey?' She gave a mocking smile. 'Did you like it?'

'Erm. Yes.' Did he? He wasn't sure. It certainly made him feel very strange. A sort of tingling in his body which then ran down his legs. But if that was what was required to obtain some food, then it was no hardship.

BOOK: The Long Walk Home
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