Remember Me - Lesley Pearse [86]
‘I shall voice all this when I return to England,’ William Hill said forcefully, banging his fist on the table. ‘In my opinion these men are murderers, far worse species than you have in this colony.’
Arthur Phillip went over to the window. Below, the town was quiet, fires burning like little beacons in the darkness. He thought of all those lying in the hospital and the tents in front of it, and wondered how many more would be dead by dawn.
He was close to complete exhaustion. He had taken the position as Captain of the Fleet and then as Governor General because he believed he could make this penal colony a success. He had hoped that he could convert his criminal charges into men and women who would grasp the opportunities open to them and make something of themselves.
Sadly, he seemed to have failed. He knew now that the offer of free land at the end of their sentences would only be taken up by a few. Most were too lazy and incompetent to farm. The survivors of the Second Fleet would be prejudiced against the colony from the outset, and who could really blame them?
He was staring into the abyss again. Today he’d heard a Third Fleet was on its way with another 1,000 convicts. Many of his good officers would be returning home then. He’d done his very best, he’d tried to govern with humanity, but even a gardener couldn’t hope to grow something of lasting beauty without basic equipment, good seed and fertile conditions.
‘You seem troubled, Arthur,’ William said from behind him. ‘Today’s events are no reflection on you.’
Phillip turned to Hill and pulled himself up erect. ‘I think they are a reflection on all of us,’ he said wearily. ‘On those who stand by and watch the guilty go unpunished, just as much as the guilty themselves.’
‘You’re very quiet this evening, Mary,’ Will said. It was Christmas Day, and he supposed she was brooding on Cornwall, and imagining her family sitting around the fire with a roast goose in their bellies. Lately he’d often heard her telling Charlotte about Fowey and her relatives there. As time went on she seemed to think about them more, rather than less.
‘It’s too hot to talk,’ she said, but smiled at him and affectionately reached out from her stool to pat his thigh. ‘It’s a wonder the little ’uns can sleep.’
It had been fearfully hot for weeks now, the animals and poultry had taken to lying down in any shade or water they could find. Will considered himself lucky to be off fishing every day, at least out in the bay there was always a breeze.
‘I thought maybe you were thinking of home,’ he said.
‘About how to get home,’ she corrected him, and grinned. ‘I think I know how to get the stuff we need.’
Will rolled his eyes with impatience. She never let up about escape. Even when she didn’t talk about it, he knew she was thinking about it. He’d never known a woman as dogged as Mary.
Will was happy enough in the colony, though he would never admit that to anyone, least of all Mary. While they were all starving, he would gladly have gone, but the colony had got back on its feet since the Second Fleet arrived.
The help he and Mary had given the sick convicts had been noted by the officers, and as the convicts got better, they too were grateful for the kindness they’d been shown. They had nothing to reward him with except their admiration and loyalty of course, but that was enough for Will. It made him feel important.
He had the freedom to come and go as he liked within the settlement. He did a job he loved. He could treat Captain Phillip’s cutter as his own. He could get practically anything he wanted in exchange for fish. He even had a fair stash of money too, for the crews of the Second Fleet were all sick of salted pork and were glad to pay him for fish. But above all he enjoyed his status here: men looked up to him,