She got down from the box and turned, dusting her hands together, and almost jumped out of her skin when she saw Deakin standing there. He didn’t speak for a moment and she wondered how long he had been watching her. She decided on bravado.
‘What’s all this lot, then?’
‘You’re not telling me you haven’t looked.’ His voice was a sneer. ‘Don’t come all innocent with me.’
‘How do you think I could shift any of these on my own?’
‘No?’ he said. ‘Well, we’ll see how strong you are. You can help me unload the cart.’
‘Righty ho,’ she answered with false merriment. ‘I’ll try, but I don’t want to hurt my back. It’s been giving me some gyp lately.’
‘Has it really?’ he asked sardonically. ‘First I’ve heard of it.’
‘Don’t like to complain,’ she remarked, beginning to worry about this cat and mouse game, and walked slowly towards him. He opened the door wider to let her out and she saw the cart once more laden and covered by the tarpaulin, and his rifle on the seat. ‘You’ve been busy,’ she observed. ‘Fishing’s been good, has it?’
He didn’t answer but brushed past her and picked up the rifle and she knew it would be loaded. It always was, and she began to shake.
‘Lead the mule in,’ he said, indicating with a nod. ‘And then start unloading.’
She glanced at him but didn’t argue. She couldn’t possibly lift any casks off the cart, not on her own. If in fact that was what was under the sheeting. He’d taken a risk carrying them in broad daylight. She took hold of the mule’s snaffle and he brayed at her. The animal was as bad-tempered as Deakin and she’d had many a nip from his large yellow teeth and kick from his back legs.
But the mule was compliant on this occasion and she was told to uncouple him and let him outside, which she did.
‘Come on then,’ Deakin told her. ‘Start unloading.’
She pulled off the sheeting and saw the casks. ‘I can’t lift them,’ she said. ‘How can I? You’ll have to help me.’
He came towards her, putting the rifle over one shoulder, and leaned in. ‘Course you can,’ he said softly, and in one swift movement hit her across the face, knocking her to the ground.
She was stunned for a moment and then staggered to her feet, leaning on the rully to steady herself. ‘Why’d you do that?’ Her voice shook and she felt blood in her mouth and spat out the remains of a tooth. ‘I said I’d help you. I just can’t do it by myself.’
A grin crossed his lips. ‘I suppose you thought you might have a share in this?’ He indicated the haul of goods. ‘Thought you’d have a little treat, did you?’
She was watching his hands, ready and waiting for the next blow that she knew would come. ‘No, there’s nothing I need, is there? I’m so well provided for. A life of luxury is what I’ve got, isn’t it? That’s what you promised me, isn’t it, all them years ago?’
‘Aye, I did. Didn’t mean it though, did I? You were just a means to an end; a cover, you and the brat that you brought into the world.’
He lifted his hand again to deliver a blow, but she was ready this time and stepped swiftly to one side, spoiling his aim, and with the spanner that she’d picked up from where she had left it on the rully aimed a swipe at his temple that knocked him to the ground and his rifle with him, and moving fast she picked it up and pointed it at him.
He was stunned, she could tell; it had been a heavier blow than she thought she was capable of and she felt triumphant. But he was heavier and stronger than her even though he wasn’t a big man, and he could easily overpower her. But first, she thought, a few home truths no matter what the consequences.
‘That brat that you mentioned. That sweet little girl. You didn’t want her, did you? But you’re right, she was good cover for you too. A family man, weren’t you?’ She sneered. ‘But I wasn’t a very good mother either, though not as cruel as you, and at least I never took the strap to her, not that she ever deserved it, poor lass. But then, I wanted a lad. I wanted a lad in his father’s image.’
He put his fingers to his brow and she thought that maybe he was concussed; the spanner was heavier than she’d realized.
‘He was very handsome, her father. You’d remember him, I expect. Tom Evans? All the girls in Brixham were after him, but Sally Morris got him, her with her blue eyes and pretty blonde curls. But she wasn’t his first, oh dear no.’ She nodded and smiled even though her mouth throbbed. ‘He wouldn’t have made a good husband. He had a liking for the ladies did Tom. He wouldn’t ever have been faithful.’
She saw Deakin move as if gathering his wits and guessed that he was about to spring. ‘She didn’t cost you much, though. She only ate what I provided. Eggs and chicken and vegetables that I grew.’
The rifle felt heavy in her hands but that didn’t bother her. Her father had been a poacher as well as a fisherman and had taught her to shoot when she was twelve years old and
