Chris Nickson - Come the Fear

When Emily came out, she was talking to Mrs Rains, and he caught his breath. He knew she’d seen him; she had turned her head pointedly away, letting the conversation drag out, making exaggerated gestures with her small hands. But sooner or later she’d have to pass him and then he’d have his chance. Unable to sleep, he’d spent the day formulating the words, grinding them deep into his memory.

Finally she finished and walked towards him. He stepped away from the wall, right into her path.

‘Please,’ he begged quietly, ‘hear me out.’

She tilted her head and said nothing, but stopped and crossed her arms, her face expressionless. He took a breath.

‘What I told you was just what my father had said to me. Please, you have to believe me, it’s not how I feel about things. He can find me a hundred women to marry and I’ll turn them all away.’

Emily looked at him. A curl had escaped her cap to hang down her cheek. He wanted to reach out and push it behind her ear but was too scared to touch her.

‘Have you told him that?’ she asked.

‘I tried.’

‘Then you’d better tell him again and make sure he understands.’ She moved around him and started to walk away.

‘Your father even asked about it this morning.’

She stopped and turned. ‘What did he say?’

‘He said I should talk to you.’

‘He’s proud of my grandmother, did he tell you that?’

‘Yes,’ Rob said.

‘What she did took a lot of courage,’ she said, admiration in her voice.

‘I know,’ he agreed.

‘I’m not sure I could be that strong,’ Emily admitted.

‘Then pray God you never have to find out.’

‘If I had to, what would you do?’ she asked. ‘Would you be proud of me?’

‘Yes,’ he answered without hesitation.

She moved closer and looked deep into his eyes. ‘And what about your father? What do you think he’d say?’

‘You know exactly what he’d say,’ he told her and she nodded sadly.

‘But I’m not him,’ Rob protested desperately. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Since I became a Constable’s man I’ve seen things he couldn’t begin to understand.’

‘He’s still your father.’

‘He can’t make me think like him.’

‘He has money, Rob, he has influence,’ she said sadly. ‘Sooner or later he’s going to try and make you do what he wants. Can’t you see that?’

‘He won’t succeed,’ he promised. ‘Trust me.’

‘I want to believe you.’ She took his hand. ‘I really want to believe you. But I daren’t love someone who might hold my family’s past against me some day.’ She walked away, leaving him standing, torn and hopeless.

The deputy arrived home in the early evening. He’d made his final round of the day and passed the keys over to Lister, along with the Constable’s note. Collins had arrived in the afternoon to report his robbery.

‘What does it mean?’ Rob asked. Sedgwick had shrugged.

‘The boss knows what he’s doing. Just put your man on the yard instead of the front entrance of the Talbot and see what happens.’ He paused. ‘What’s wrong with you, anyway? I’ve seen happier looking corpses.’

‘It’s nothing.’ Lister turned away and sorted through some papers.

If the lad wanted to talk about it, he would, the deputy thought. It was his business.

‘Right, I’ll leave it all with you, then.’

He made his way home through the streets, most of the houses already shuttered and locked for the night, keeping the robbers and evil spirits at bay. The inns and alehouses glistened with noise and music, lights shining in the gathering darkness but they held no appeal for him any more. He’d rather be with his family at his own hearth.

He opened the door of the tiny house on Lands Lane and walked into a room full of the rich scent of cooking meat. The day before one of the butchers on the Shambles had given him some beef as thanks for a small favour and he’d been looking forward to it all day.

Lizzie stood over the pan, stirring the stew with an old wooden spoon. Glancing across he could see Isabell asleep in her basket, eyes pressed firmly together, fat little hands showing above the blanket, black hair beginning to grow in thickly across her scalp. He bent down close enough to see her chest rise and fall in the slow pattern of breathing, then kissed Lizzie.

‘Has she been down long?’ he asked softly.

‘About an hour. Slept well this afternoon, too. It’s starting to get better.’ She stretched, pushing her hands against her back to straighten it, then put her arms around him and gave him the smile he loved. ‘And before you ask, James is upstairs asleep. I fed him when he came home from playing.’

‘How was he?’

‘Just the way he used to be,’ she said with a bemused shake of her head. ‘Sweet and loving. Settled down when I told him and went straight off. I don’t understand what gets into him sometimes.’ She ladled hot stew into a bowl and put it on the table for him, along with a beaker of ale and a crust of bread. ‘That should see you right.’ Lizzie watched happily as he spooned the food into his mouth, scarcely stopping to savour it, only slowing down as he sopped up the gravy.

‘That was grand,’ he said finally, reaching out and taking her hand. ‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me; that butcher of yours did you proud. It’s better than we could afford. Plenty of meat and it wasn’t even spoiled. There’ll be enough for tomorrow, too. What did you do for him, anyway?’

‘Just showed him how his apprentice was stealing from him. Nothing much.’

Lizzie glanced over at the sleeping baby. ‘We could have an early night ourselves,’ she said coyly, her fingers twining in his.

‘We could,’ he agreed.

‘Then you’d better get up those stairs sharpish, John Sedgwick, and make sure you’re quiet so the little one doesn’t wake.’

There was no more than a band of pale light on the horizon when the Constable walked up Kirkgate but already the day felt oppressive. The thick clouds in the sky seemed weighted and full, the air heavy. He could feel sweat in his armpits, and his hair was damp when he ran his hand through it.

Lister had the window open wide, but there was no breeze to flow and cool the place. Rob’s jacket hung on a nail, his long waistcoat unbuttoned and the sleeves of his shirt pushed up.

‘Morning, boss,’ he said. ‘It’s close out already.’

‘If it keeps up like this, tempers are going to flare sooner rather than later. People don’t take the heat well here.’ Nottingham poured himself a mug of small ale and drank it down quickly. ‘Anything worth knowing about? Did putting the man on the yard of the Talbot help?’

Lister sat back and laughed.

‘As soon as it was dark Walton climbed down the kitchen roof and was off down the back way. Johnson was on him. He said the only time he’s seen anyone move faster was when a husband’s come back without warning.’

Nottingham grinned with satisfaction. ‘Where did he go?’

‘A place off Currie Entry. There’s a small court there.’

‘I know it. About as wide as your arm to get in, then just a few houses back there. Was Johnson able to see which one he went into?’

Rob nodded. ‘He did a good job. Walton stayed there almost half an hour by the church clock, he said, then went back and climbed up to his room. Johnson found me and showed me where Walton had gone.’

‘Good. I think we’d better take a look at this place. Somehow I doubt our thief taker was just visiting an accommodating widow.’

The Constable carefully avoided the other subject that hung between them. He’d talked to Mary the night before, waiting until Emily had gone to her room to work after arriving home in a flustered, sour mood. They’d discussed it in low voices, Mary’s anger at Rob’s father brittle and bitter, his own sadder, tempered by experience. But finally he’d convinced her that there was nothing they could do. Everything depended on the decisions Rob made. He’d put no pressure on the lad. He wouldn’t even hold it against him if he caved in to his father. The lad needed time to make up his mind fairly.