Remember Me - Lesley Pearse [95]
All Mary’s senses were offended by this place. She was appalled at seeing drunkenness, debauchery, laziness, disease and utter stupidity. Daily, her ears were bombarded with the most vile language and sounds of human misery. The smells nauseated her. Even touch, that most personal of the senses, was distorted here. Wood was jagged and full of splinters, what looked like soft grass was as sharp as needles, her own skin and Will’s was hard and rough, it itched from insect bites and often erupted in boils.
How she longed for all those things which were part of everyday life back in Fowey! To smell fresh bread baking, the lavender, roses and pinks in the tiny garden. To see strawberries, apples and plums still glistening with dew. A jug of cold milk, putting on a clean petticoat still fragrant from drying outside. To see her feet pink and soft after washing. To lie on the billowy softness of a feather mattress and watch the curtains fluttering in the breeze.
Only her children gave her a sense of all she’d left behind. Their skin was still silky, their voices soft and melodious to her ears, their breath as sweet as spring water. Apart from their rags, they were no different in nature to children born to the nobility. But just as she couldn’t expect them to retain their baby looks, she couldn’t hope to shield them from being corrupted either. Soon they would witness the floggings, the rutting behind bushes and the drunkenness, and they would consider that normal. Without something of beauty or worth to show them, how would they ever know the difference between good and evil?
They were innocent of any crime, yet by being born to a convict they became convicts too. And unless she got them away from here, that stigma would be attached to their children, and their children’s children. She couldn’t let that happen.
The following morning Mary got the children up, fed Emmanuel and made Charlotte some fried bread for breakfast, without waking Will. He was still lying on the floor where he’d fallen the previous night, and the hut stank of rum.
She heard the drum for work sound while she was on her way to collect dirty washing from the officers’ houses. Although she wondered whether the loss of the cutter would mean that Will would be expected to report for work like the other men, she certainly wasn’t prepared to go back and wake him.
She had a bundle of washing slung over her shoulder, Emmanuel balanced on her hip, and Charlotte skipping ahead of her, when she heard Tench call out her name. She hadn’t seen him, even at a distance, in weeks, for his work at Rose Hill kept him there. He was coming out of Surgeon White’s house, and she guessed he’d stayed the night there.
‘How is Charlotte?’ he asked as he came nearer. ‘I heard she was in the boat yesterday?’
‘She’s forgotten it already,’ Mary said. ‘But it gave me a terrible fright before I heard she was safe.’
‘And Will, how is he?’ he asked.
‘Sleeping it off,’ she said, leaving Tench to guess whether she meant the shock of the accident or drink. ‘Or he was when I left.’
‘The repairs will be started today,’ Tench said, looking over towards the wharf. ‘He should be there.’
‘Repairs?’ Mary’s heart leaped.
Tench smiled, reaching out to stroke Emmanuel’s cheek. ‘Of course. Captain Phillip wants it back in use as soon as possible.’
‘Is he angry with Will?’ Mary asked.
‘Why should he be?’ Tench frowned. ‘Captain Hunter saw the whole thing and reported back. It could have happened to anyone, after all it happened to Hunter himself on the Sirius at Norfolk Island. Phillip is also very heartened by the way Bennelong and his native friends helped out in the rescue.’
‘Will is expecting to be flogged.’ Mary half smiled.
‘I’ll go and see him then,’ Tench said. ‘He has nothing to fear if he throws himself into repairing the boat.’
Mary walked part of the way with Tench, and they talked about Bennelong, and how he’d helped out once before when Captain Phillip