Chris Nickson - Come the Fear

‘You haven’t had to make that choice yet,’ she pointed out.

‘I’ve already made it up here,’ Rob answered and tapped his skull.

‘But are you sure?’ she asked seriously.

‘Of course I am.’

‘A girl with money and position. . it’s what most men would want.’

‘I want you.’

‘I’m glad you do.’ She squeezed his fingers.

‘You’re everything I need.’

She smiled again, glanced around to be certain no one was watching and kissed him softly on the lips.

‘Just as I am?’ she asked.

‘Exactly as you are.’

She stayed quiet as they turned on to Kirkgate. His eyes moved to the jail, the office empty. He felt content, as if they’d manage to settle everything with just a few words.

‘I love you,’ he said as they approached Timble Bridge.

‘I love you, too,’ she replied. ‘But what do you want us to do?’

‘What do you mean?’ Her question confused him.

She leaned on the parapet and looked down at the water.

‘What do you expect?’ she wondered. ‘Marriage and children?’

‘I suppose so, in time,’ he told her warily. ‘That’s what men and women do. They marry.’

‘Not all of them, Rob.’

‘What do you mean?’ He could feel fear rising in his stomach.

‘Not everyone marries. Life isn’t always as simple as that.’ She turned, her eyes staring at his. ‘Are you happy with me?’

‘Of course I am. I said I love you.’

‘They’re not the same things,’ she said with a small shake of her head.

‘Then I love you and I’m happy with you,’ he corrected himself.

‘Good.’ She kissed him again, moving closer, her lips lingering against his. ‘Do you think everything is fine as it is, the way we meet like this, the courting?’

‘Yes,’ he grinned, tightening his grip around her waist. ‘I think it’s close to perfect.’

‘What would you say if I told you I’d never marry you?’ Her voice was quiet and wary.

‘What? What do you mean?’ He pulled back to watch her face, to see if this was a strange joke she was playing.

‘You know what marriage means,’ she told him. ‘You’d own everything I have. And you’d own me.’

He opened his mouth to speak but she placed a finger over it to quiet him.

‘Please, Rob, hear me out. I’ve been thinking about this, it’s important to me. I can’t ever let anyone own me like that. I’m not a chattel or goods. However much I care about you, no matter how much I love you, I’ll never be your wife. Or anyone’s wife. But I don’t want to lose, you, either.’ She gave a small, wan smile. ‘So if it’s a wife you really want, maybe you should do what your father asks.’ She began to walk away across the bridge.

Rob took a deep breath.

‘Don’t go,’ he said, and she turned to wait for him. Her words had been a shock, a blow to his belly. What she said went against everything he’d known, strained against all his upbringing. But he knew he’d rather have her on any terms than not at all.

‘We don’t have to marry. We can stay as we are.’

Her face glowed and she put her arms around him.

‘You know, Papa will say I’m a foolish girl,’ she said. ‘He won’t understand why I don’t want to marry anyone. Mama will weigh it carefully in her mind. But in time they’ll understand it’s me, it’s always been me.’ Emily looked at him. ‘What will your father say?’

‘I don’t care,’ he told her, and realized he meant it.

They stopped outside the house on Marsh Lane and she gave him another long kiss. ‘I’d best go inside,’ she said. ‘Mama will be waiting for me. Can you meet me in the morning?’

‘Yes,’ he agreed and watched as she walked away with small backward glances and smiles.

The evening was gathering as the Constable walked home, his footsteps raising dust in the dirt along Marsh Lane. Glancing ahead he could see a light in the window of the parlour and another from Emily’s bedroom upstairs.

The glow of the tallow candle gave enough light for Mary to read, the greasy scent filling the room. He hung his coat on the nail by the door then bent to kiss her.

‘You look tired,’ she said tenderly.

‘I feel like I’m a hundred.’ In the kitchen he poured ale and scraped the remains from a pan of pottage for his supper. ‘Some days I feel like I’ve been walking for miles and never arrived anywhere,’ he said as he sat down with a sigh. He inclined his head upwards. ‘How is she?’

‘Much better today.’ Mary put down the book. ‘They must have talked after school, she came home happy and smiling. All’s right with the world again.’

‘For now, anyway,’ he allowed darkly. ‘I hope this doesn’t mean they’re getting married.’

Mary laughed. ‘I think we’re safe from that yet, Richard. She does have some sense, you know.’

‘Sense leaves by the window when it comes to love,’ he told her. ‘You know that as well as I do.’

‘If it had been a wedding she wouldn’t have stopped talking,’ Mary pointed out.

‘Maybe,’ he grunted and finished the drink. ‘I need my bed. A week’s sleep would be just about right.’

‘And you’ll still be up before the birds and off to work. I’ve known you too long, you can’t change now.’

‘True enough,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘Sometimes I wish I could.’ He held out his hand. ‘Coming with me?’

The morning was breezy, with clouds the dull colour of old lead scudding across the sky. Lister struggled to stay awake, Sedgwick tried to rub the sleep from his eyes as the Constable finished summing up.

‘There’s a market today,’ he said. ‘I’ll take Holden with me and watch for women with dark hair and blue gowns. She might come back and try it again, there are always plenty of children.’

‘What do you want me to do?’ Sedgwick asked.

‘Back over the river, John. After we go and talk to Peter Wendell. Since he seems to like using his fists, it might be better if there’s two of us. And you,’ he said to Rob, ‘go on home and sleep so you’re fit for tonight.’

‘In a minute, boss.’

Nottingham grinned at the deputy. ‘He must be back under Emily’s thumb.’

‘Young love, eh?’ the deputy said with a broad wink to Lister.

‘She’ll be along soon enough,’ the Constable said, ‘but you see you rest today.’

The weavers were putting up their trestles and laying out cloth for the market as the Constable and Sedgwick strode down Briggate. The inns were busy with men eating their Brigg End shot breakfasts, plenty of beef and ale to fill their bellies for a couple of pennies.

Carters filled the road, delivering their goods, eager to leave before the market bell closed the street. The first merchants were out, walking around and smiling in anticipation of the profits they’d make.

Nottingham and the deputy turned on to Swinegate, the shops just opening as shutters were lifted. They moved to the side as a woman opened a window on a top floor and threw out the night’s piss to splash in the middle of the street.

The smithy’s forge lay at the back of a cobbled yard, the doors wide open, heat already roaring from the fire. The blacksmith was busy working horseshoes on the anvil, bringing his hammer down expertly on the red hot metal in a fast, ringing rhythm to shape it.

Wendell was feeding coal into the blaze, stripped to breeches and hose. His chest and thick arms were already shining with sweat and he wore a rag tied around his head to keep the moisture from his eyes.

‘That’s him?’ the Constable asked and Sedgwick nodded. ‘Let’s get him out where we can talk to him properly.’

They entered the yard. The smith glanced up briefly, never breaking the stroke as he pounded against the anvil. Wendell stopped work, watching carefully as they came closer and picking up a hammer.