We can move him to another watch.
No, sir. Tom took a deep breath. No, thank you, sir. Its for me to learn to be careful and to learn to make a friend of him, if I can. He knew he sounded doubtful and he tried to straighten his back and firm his shoulders as he had seen the officers do.
Murray hid a smile. We sail to Jamaica soon, Tom. I understand from the captain that you are due some shore leave when we arrive, to visit some of your fathers relatives, is that right?
Tom bit his lip. Does the captain know about me being ill, sir? he asked.
The lieutenant sighed. He knows about everything that goes on on his ship.
Yes, sir. I see, sir. Tom glanced at him. Will he tell my father, sir?
I very much doubt it. Why should he? Youre already on the road to recovery. Youve been lucky, Tom. Youve seen the best healer in these islands and, besides, what happened was not your fault. He hesitated. Just watch yourself. Farquhar has a malicious streak. Im keeping an eye on him, but I cannot be there every moment of the day. You need to be on your guard and you need to be able to deal with this situation. He looked down at the boy trotting beside him. Be strong, Tom. You have it in you. Dont be afraid to stand up to him.
James Reid emailed Ruth a copy of the letter he proposed sending to Timothy. It has come to our attention that the will forwarded to me purporting to come from your solicitor does not carry an authentic signature, neither has it been possible to contact the witnesses. It is a criminal offence to falsify She glanced through the rest of it briefly. James demanded the return of any property Timothy had removed from Number 26 without delay, and threatened to send a copy of the letter to the police if that was not done.
She sat back, staring at her laptop. Perhaps they should send a holding letter first? Give Timothy a little time to return anything he had taken.
Ruth? It was Harriet on the phone. How are you?
Im good. Ruth smiled. It was good to hear Hatties cheery voice. Im discovering lots of stuff about Thomas.
Any mention of spirit guides?
No, but he does seem to be showing signs of having appeared as a ghost a few times.
Now, that is interesting. Harriets voice rose with excitement.
And one other thing youll be interested to hear: Ive found a copy of Dion Fortunes book Psychic Self-Defence amongst my mothers books.
Have you indeed. Listen, Ruthie. I was ringing because Ive had an idea. Ive got to come to Edinburgh to interview someone about SOE and check a few things in the library. Liz is lending me her car. I wondered if I could come on to see you the day before and perhaps have supper? Possibly stay the night? Would your friend Fin mind? We can catch up on everything then.
It seemed like a plan.
19
Andrew Farquhar had hated Thomas from the first moment he had set eyes on him in that little rat hole of a gunroom on the ship. The boy seemed to have the knack of making friends, of being popular. Young as he was, he addressed the lieutenant and even the captain as an equal. Clearly there must be family connections of some sort. It gave Andrew enormous pleasure to set about planning all the petty revenges that would make Thomas miserable. He hadnt intended to kill Robbie. That had been unfortunate, a prank aimed at upsetting the sanctimonious Thomas who had befriended the kid. That prank had gone sadly wrong, and thanks to Thomas he was caught and punished and humiliated.
It had been a petty triumph when he had the idea of stealing the infected rags from the squalor of the seamens quarters where he now found himself and stashing them in Thomass sea chest. He had found it unlocked once or twice over the months and spent time searching it, looking at the neat notebooks and pen boxes and brushes and combs, the pile of letters tied with ribbon that had come from his family, the presents his sisters had sent him via a merchant ship from London. Andrew hadnt kept the items he filched, that would have been too easy. One pen, engraved with Thomass name that he knew had been a gift from his mother, he threw over the side in the dark of the night; the small penknife, a gift from Thomass father, he kept for two days then slid through a gap in the boards and heard with great satisfaction the small splash as it fell into the noxious bilge water in the hold.
The plan to infect him had worked, but instead of the death-sentence pox Andrew had hoped for, he had caught some disease which turned out to be curable, and even that small misery had misfired when Thomas had gone ashore and come back with bottles of medicine and a jar of ointment. When Andrew had next found the gunroom empty and crept over to look at Thomass sea chest, he had felt the cold waft of evil coming off it before he even touched it and he fled back to his own quarters. He had never gone near it again, but his hatred had grown, if anything, more entrenched.
Timothy threw the letter down on the table and looked up at his sister. For once he did not protest at the fact that she had opened something addressed to him. So thats it, then. Weve been found out.
No. He only says theres a delay. Even if they suspect something, they cant prove it. April glanced at him. And we still have our trump card: the DNA. We can prove youre the old mans son.
You really believe that will work?
It will work, she said emphatically. And that would at least give us half the house and half the stuff.
Us? It will give me half the house, he said mildly. He gave a grim smile. After all, it will prove you are not my sister.
He looked away when he saw the ice-cold fury in her eyes. Dont even think youre going to cut me out of my share, she said quietly. It was all my idea and my planning. You havent the brains to tie your own shoelaces! The scorn in her voice was cutting.
He gave a small shrug of his shoulders. It was me that sat with that old man for months.
And why not? Its not as if you had any other job. She stood up. Now, what do we do with the silver and stuff?
Were going to deny having it, right?
Of course. The tone was withering again. They can prove nothing if they cant find it. She put her hands on the table in front of him and leaned forward, right in his face. What did you do with that box of muck?
It was the first time she had asked. I put it in the rubbish skip down the road, like you said. He didnt meet her eye.
Good. Right. Now, we have to get everything out of here. We can smash up the pictures and burn them; they arent worth anything. The rest is easier to stash.
I know where we can hide the stuff. His voice was quietly triumphant. Somewhere they will never even think to look. Her casual dismissal of the pictures hurt. They were old and so probably valuable.
Where?
Macdermotts place in Cramond. He grinned.
She opened her mouth to protest, then sat down opposite him and stared at him hard. Go on.
When I was poking about there in the garden I came across an old shed behind the outbuildings. Looks as though no one has been in there for years. Its full of spiderwebs and dead leaves. I can put it there.
She thought for a moment. It could work.
Can you think of anywhere better? Short of chucking it in the Forth? His courage was coming back. And you cant exactly have a bonfire here, can you! Mr Nosy next door would want to know what you were doing and there would be forensic evidence, even if it was ashes.
No, youre right. She made up her mind. Lets load the car.
I cant do it in daylight.
She hesitated. Weve got to risk it; we cant risk keeping the stuff here in case the police come. We were stupid to use this address on the will, but we had to give them somewhere to contact us. She scowled. Load the car then park it somewhere until its dark.
Once her mind was made up, they were a team again.
The family visit had not gone as well as Tom had envisaged. The Tartar, having cruised north to Pensacola, turned to patrol southwards again and finally arrived in Jamaica, anchoring off Kingston. Leaving the ship, his chest carried ashore by one of the sailors and passed on to one of his cousins slaves, it was with some relief that he turned his back on the sea for a while.
If he had expected a heros welcome from his fathers cousin, he was sadly disappointed. She turned out to be an elderly lady, comfortable in her own world, with little interest in a fourteen-year-old boy. It was a huge relief to both of them when she announced that they were expecting a visitor. Dr Butt, she told him. I think he will be better suited to entertaining you, Thomas. I fear I have no conversation for a boy your age. She smiled that cold austere smile that he had so quickly grown to dislike. He had hoped to find the warmth and welcome here that the word family conjured in his mind. Her next sentence was like a slap in the face. He can fill in the time by teaching you till you go back to your ship.
Dr Butt, however, turned out to be an agreeable and affable man, recently appointed to the position of physician general to the island militia, who swept the lonely boy under his wing and took him back to his own house where Tom spent a most enjoyable time, studying, drawing, exploring the island and flirting with Dr Butts daughters, who helped him choose a tortoise to ship home as a gift for his mama in Bath.
It was to Dr Butt that he finally confided the story of his illness. The doctor examined the medicine the slave woman had given him and he nodded, sniffing the mixture and examining the faint scars left on Toms body. Yaws, he said. Horrible, but not fatal. It is incredible how clever some of these African women are. Obeah women, they call themselves. They practise the magic of their own religion. Some are genuine healers with far more knowledge than many of us so-called educated doctors. He smiled. We could learn so much from them if we only let ourselves listen.
Tom did not mention the strange doll the woman had given him, sensing the doctor would not be so approving of that. It was tucked in the bottom of his trunk, wrapped in a neckerchief. He could feel its power, but it didnt frighten him; on the contrary, he knew it would somehow keep his belongings safer than any padlock.
It was with genuine regret that he prepared for his recall to the ship. Having packed his trunk and dispatched his last batch of letters home, he headed back to the harbour, hoping against hope that he would not find Andrew Farquhar waiting for him.