The Shoemaker's Daughter (55 page)

Sam looked at her scornfully, ‘I think there’s more chance of getting the money if
she
goes begging to Grenfell, anyway, I want to punish her, don’t I?’

He moved to the door. ‘Right, I won’t be long,’ he smiled, ‘I’ll stop for some food for us on the way back, righto?’

Sarah nodded and went to the small window of the shed to watch as Sam disappeared from sight. She sighed, he was bound to stop for a mug of ale too if she knew him. Aye and she had got to know him the last day or two and he wasn’t the man she’d believed him to be. Still, she’d cast her lot in with him now, there was no going back. Once they had the money they would shake the dust of Swansea from their shoes for ever.

Hari spent all night sitting at Hetty’s bed side with William, forcing back the bitter tears, her arms aching for her son. She wondered distractedly if whoever had him was taking good care of him. She had tortured herself with thoughts of going to the constables but she was afraid that, if she did, Davie might be harmed.

It was about five o’clock in the morning when Hetty opened her eyes. ‘God bless you both,’ she said softly and clearly and then she died.

Hari stared at Hetty’s face, peaceful now in death, and the tears came. William put his head on his hands and Hari knew that he too was overcome with emotion.

‘Go home, you,’ Will said at last, ‘I’ll stay and see to things here.’

Hari touched his shoulder lightly and then left the hospital feeling as though the fates were against her.

The note was pinned to the door and, with a trembling hand, Hari took it down. The demand was for a thousand pounds in exchange for the safe return of her son. A thousand pounds, the one who had abducted Davie might as well ask for the moon.

It was then that Hari knew she must go to Craig. She left the house in the first dawn light, carrying the note in her hand as though it was a link between her and Davie. As she walked, anger burned in her and a pure hatred for whoever had taken her child but, as she drew nearer to Summer Lodge, she knew that she just wanted her son back whatever the cost.

Summer Lodge had a sleepy look about it, as though noone was yet up and about behind the richly curtained windows. And yet Hari knew that the servants would have been at work for some time, lighting fires, fetching hot water to the master of the house and seeing to all his needs.

The maid who answered the door looked at Hari’s good clothes and unable to make up her mind about the early visitor pressed her mouth into a straight line.

‘The master isn’t receiving callers, yet,’ she said primly and moved towards the door as if to close it against Hari.

Hari didn’t hesitate, she pushed the girl aside and went purposefully towards the stairs, hurrying upwards ignoring the maid’s shouted protests.

Craig was in his dressing-room doing up his shirt cuffs. He took one look at Hari’s white face and came towards her.

‘Something’s wrong, what is it?’ he asked, holding out his arms instinctively.

Hari went to him and he held her close, smoothing back her hair.

She closed her eyes, knowing somehow that Craig would make everything right.

‘Read this,’ she said, her voice thick with tears. ‘Somebody has got Davie.’

Craig crumpled the note in his clenched fist, his face white. ‘You did the right thing coming to me,’ he said. He finished dressing quickly and led the way downstairs.

‘Have you any idea who would have taken our son?’ he asked and Hari shook her head desperately.

‘Now sit down and think rationally,’ Craig said, ‘tell me all you know.’

Craig’s presence had a calming effect on Hari, she told him quickly how William had found Hetty unconscious in her kitchen and of how Hetty had regained consciousness at the hospital and talked incoherently about someone taking Davie away.

‘Is there anyone living around Salthouse Passage who bears a grudge against you?’ Craig asked.

‘Well, there’s Maria Payton and her son, Sam,’ Hari said, ‘they’ve never liked me, not since Sam was a child. Never liked William either, that’s how Will ended up in hospital.’

‘Maria Payton, that name sounds familiar,’ Craig said, his brow furrowed.

Hari looked up at Craig desperately. ‘I think we’ve found the one person in Swansea who hates me enough to do such a thing! Craig, can we go round to the house right away?’

‘Take it easy, now,’ Craig said softly, ‘let me do a bit of searching around on my own, we can’t just accuse these people without proof. They’ll be in touch again with directions where we are to leave the money and then we’ll have them.’

He took Hari in his arms and held her close. ‘Trust me, I’ll get our son back whatever it takes,’ he said softly.

Spencer was sitting in his bedroom, drinking port and reading a newspaper when Craig entered his room.

‘What do you know about Maria Payton and her son?’ His voice was dangerously quiet. ‘I know you go to the woman for certain services.’ Craig caught Spencer by the lapels of his jacket and shook him.

‘This woman is a whore and I know you’ve been visiting her, so don’t deny it!’

‘You’re mad!’ Spencer blustered, ‘I don’t know anything about her or Sam.’

Craig shook him again. ‘I didn’t mention her son’s name, you just gave yourself away and if you don’t tell me at once where they’ve taken my son, I’ll kill you!’

‘Somewhere above Cwmbwrla.’ Spencer was frightened, he believed his brother meant every word he said, he had never seen Craig so angry. ‘A shed, I think, Sam Payton had some idea of getting a ransom for the boy but I had nothing to do with it.’

Craig flung him back into the chair. ‘I’m going now and when I come back you are to be out of here. If I set eyes on you again I won’t be responsible for my actions.’

‘But where can I go?’ Spencer said seeing his comfortable way of life vanishing.

‘Go back to our dear mother or go to hell but just get out of my house and out of my life.’ Craig’s voice was suddenly deathly quiet and Spencer knew he meant every word.

Craig left the room then and Spencer looked around him desperately, if Payton harmed the boy there would be hell to pay, he’d better leave Craig’s house before anything happened.

Spencer picked up a bag and started quickly to pack his clothes.

The sound came from the vicinity of the workshop, it was slight and yet Hari, senses alert, heard it at once. She hurried through the yard and found the door of the workshop was just swinging shut.

She pushed it open and looked outside just in time to see the figure of Sam Payton climbing over the wall. As Hari watched he disappeared along the narrow court and she could scarcely breathe, her worst fears were confirmed. Sam Payton was the thug who was holding her Davie captive.

Hari returned to the workshop and, as she expected, the note was there staring menacingly up at her from the bench. She read the words at first with a sense of apprehension, she was to take the money to the foot of the workings above Cwmbwrla and leave it there in a bag.

Her mind was racing even while she told herself to be calm, there was blasting going on up on the hill, a new road was being hewn out of the rocks, it was a dangerous place to be.

She looked down at the note again, the hillside was isolated except for a few roughly erected sheds. To a man like Sam Payton, it would be the perfect place to hide a stolen baby. Without waiting to pick up her shawl, Hari hurried from the workshop and into the street.

The foreman of the gang stood looking down at the plans stretched out across the table in the makeshift shed set up on the hill.

‘We’ll be blastin’ lower down today, Taffee,’ he said pointing at the plan.

‘How much lower down, boss?’ Taffee was a young man, with thick sprouting eyebrows and a full beard of which he was very proud.

‘About where the old shed was put up, I’d say.’ The foreman folded up the papers, he was tired of working, tired of the noise of blasting, he was getting old and his bones ached from being constantly out in all weathers.

‘Hey, there’s some good timber in that shed, boss, can’t I go and get some of it for my chicken pen?’

‘The wood is rotten.’ The foreman looked at Taffee with derision in his weather-beaten face. ‘Why do you think we abandoned it?’

‘Looks all right to me,’ Taffee said gloomily. ‘Must be some good pieces of wood there. I think there must be a lamb trapped in there too, I could swear I heard it, like a baby crying it was.’

‘You keep away from there, my boy.’ There was a warning in the foreman’s voice. ‘Dangerous place to be right now because all the blasting above it has made the land unstable. All we want is a good shower of rain and the whole hill could slide and cover that shed.’

The foreman went back to his plans, it was time he made up his mind where he was going to place his next charge and, in case Taffee had the daft idea of trying to salvage some of the timber, it had better be on the site of that old shed.

As Hari hurried through the streets, past Salthouse Passage, a fierce anger gripped her, was Davie being left alone in the shed, frightened and cold and crying out for her? She felt she could readily kill Sam Payton for what he had done.

Hari didn’t look back as she made her way up Carmarthen Road towards Cwmbwrla but she wished that Craig was here at her side, he would give Sam Payton the hiding of his life if he laid hands on him.

She was breathless by the time she reached the foot of the hill rising up from the valley of Cwmbwrla and Hari’s heart was pumping furiously.

She could see the rise of scarred land where the blasting had taken place and, on one of the ridges, a band of workmen were standing. Hari hurried towards them, her feet slipping in the mud.

‘Hey, where are you going misses?’ A man with a weather-beaten face came towards her, arms outstretched as though to hold her back. ‘You can’t go up there,
cariad
,’ he said, ‘the place is going to be blasted in a few minutes, the charges are all ready.’

‘No!’ Hari’s voice was low with fear. ‘My baby is somewhere up here.’

‘That’s impossible,’ the man said, barring her way, ‘no-one is up there, believe me.’

Another man stepped forward, his full beard at odds with the youthfulness of his face.

‘Don’t you remember, boss?’ he said. ‘I told you I heard a sound like a baby crying coming from the old shed.’

‘Aye, I remember, Taffee,’ the older man shook his head, ‘but there won’t be time to stop Ben from blasting, we’d never get up to the top of the hill in time.’

Hari heard a shout and she turned to see Craig manhandling Sam Payton, both men slipping on the loose earth of the hillside. In fear Hari cried out to Craig but he was too far away to hear her.

The figures of the two men seemed to fall and then they disappeared from sight behind the hill.

Hari ran forward, her feet slipping on the muddy ground, dimly she heard the foreman calling out from behind her but his words were drowned by a sudden blast of noise from above.

Hari felt rather than heard herself scream. The very hill seemed to lift and hover in the air and a cloud of dust rushed over the group of people standing below.

Then Hari was picking herself up from the earth, spitting out dust and slipping over the loose soil, upwards to where the shed had once stood.

Dust flew everywhere blinding her and Hari slipped again, grovelling in the dirt to find footing. She was aware of a couple running past her hand in hand and through the dust recognized Sarah clinging to Sam Payton, her face covered in earth. But where were Craig and Davie?

Planks protruded like broken teeth through the torn earth and Hari forced herself to go on running, dragging air into her desperate lungs, she forced herself upward.

A second explosion ripped through the air and Hari was thrown to the ground like a rag doll. Tears of fear pouring down her face, dust swirled around her chokingly as she struggled to rise.

‘Craig!’ she cried his name, her throat aching with the effort as she stood hopelessly, trying to see through the clouds of debris.

‘Look out!’ She heard the voice of the foreman dimly, ‘The whole hillside is going to come down.’

She didn’t move, if Craig and the baby died then she might as well die too.

And then, through the dust a figure emerged. He was covered in earth, his face and hair spattered with mud.

‘Craig!’ Hari stumbled towards him, her heart pounding, and, as he drew nearer, she saw that in his arms, he carried their son.

She ran then as though in a dream, her feet dragging through the muddy ground and it seemed she would never reach them. She was aware of the sobs tearing at her throat as she tried to force herself forward.

‘Thank God!’ She found herself clinging to them, her baby and the man she loved. He was real flesh and blood and in Craig’s arms her baby was safe.

They clung together for what must have been only moments but it seemed like an eternity. ‘I love you, Craig, I love you more than I can ever tell you.’ Hari heard her own voice as though it didn’t belong to her.

‘Come on, my love,’ Craig said gently, ‘I’m taking you home.’ They descended the hill, clinging to each other, his arm firm around her waist, both her arms holding him tightly.

As they emerged through the clouds of swirling dust, a great cheer went up from the crowd of workmen at the foot of the hill, voices ringing out against the now-silent land, hands clapping, applauding the bravery of the man who had saved the life of the small child.

Hari swallowed her tears, they were together now, a family and nothing would ever separate them again. Hari glanced back at the scene of destruction behind her and the ragged hillside suddenly seemed the most beautiful place in all the world and Hari knew she would not have to look back ever again but would go onward now to a new and better life.