Remember Me - Lesley Pearse [122]
‘He’s coming,’ she said as she got into the clearing where the men were sitting by the fire waiting for her. Nat’s big eyes were even bigger with fear, Jamie was white-faced, and even Bill, the tough one, was chewing on his knuckles. Mary made a kind of hopeless gesture with her hands, hoping that would warn them she hadn’t yet had an opportunity to talk to Will, and she didn’t expect him to be receptive.
‘Will!’ James exclaimed as he came staggering out into the clearing. ‘Where’ve you been hiding? We need to talk to you.’
‘Not now, Emmanuel’s sick,’ Will retorted, his face tightening to see them all there.
‘He’s not sick,’ Mary said quietly. ‘I said that to get you back here.’
‘You did what?’ Will said, glowering at her.
‘I had to, it was the only way,’ she replied, taking a step back from him in case he took a swing at her. ‘We’re all worried. It isn’t just your freedom you’re risking, it’s all of ours.’
‘That’s right, Will,’ James agreed. ‘We’re all in this together. Or so we thought.’
Will looked slowly round the group of men, then shrugged. ‘I promised to get you away from the camp. I did that, brought you here. Do you expect me to wetnurse you forever too?’
‘None of us need wet-nursing,’ Bill growled at him, getting to his feet and clenching his fists. By the light of the fire he looked menacing, but Will didn’t appear to notice. ‘There’s questions being asked about us all around town,’ Bill went on. ‘You’re drawing even more attention to us all by getting drunk and shooting your mouth off. You should be staying here with Mary and your children.’
Will turned to Mary, his face dark with fury. ‘You bitch,’ he spat out. ‘Thought you’d trap me here by getting them all to side with you, did you? Can’t you get it into your thick head I’m sick of you? Next boat out I’ll be on it.’
Without drawing breath once, Will embarked on a cruel verbal onslaught. That he wasn’t legally married to her, that she was a nag, a whore and she brought him down. He claimed he could have sailed off with Detmer Smith but he didn’t because he’d promised to get his friends to freedom. ‘And I did,’ he finally roared out. ‘It was me who sailed us here, and you’ve even robbed me of that by making out you planned the whole thing and kept us all going.’
‘I’ve not said a word about anything,’ Mary said truthfully. She was afraid of Will now, she’d never seen him quite this angry before.
‘That’s right, she hasn’t,’ Sam Broome spoke up. ‘But we all know the truth about what went on at sea, Will. We couldn’t have made it without her. She might not have navigated, but she sure as hell gave us the spirit to keep on. You’re a bag of wind, Will. And that wind will get us all hanged.’
Will drew back his fist and punched out at Sam, knocking him to the ground. ‘Let’s see who’s a bag of wind,’ he yelled. ‘You want her, then take her, you’re welcome to the scheming little witch. Like I said, I’m off on the next ship.’
Bill and Sam grabbed Will, both of them desperately trying to hold him fast until James could talk some sense into him. But Will shrugged them off and backed away towards the path to the port.
‘Don’t come near me,’ he roared. ‘I’m sick of the lot of you, clinging to my shirt-tails one minute, doing me down the next. I can sail out of here, my skill is in demand. None of you have anything without me.’
He turned and went off up the path, and Bill started off after him. ‘Don’t,’ Mary said, putting a restraining hand on his arm. ‘It will only make him more determined.’
‘What shall we do?’ Jamie Cox asked, his voice trembling.
‘Let’s hope he does get the next ship out,’ Mary said, and went to help Sam up off the ground. ‘He’s more trouble than he’s worth.’
*
It was two days later, soon after dawn, that Mary heard the ominous sound of tramping boots coming towards the village.
She had woken earlier with a strange sense of foreboding, and when she heard the sound she immediately recognized it as soldiers marching. There was no other plausible reason for them to come to the village, it had to be for her and the men.
Her first thought