The Smuggler's Daughter Page 7

  ‘It was a good idea.’ I meant it. ‘Working hard is always the best way.’

  She snorted. ‘I negotiated a share of any above-average profits,’ she said. ‘Told them I was dropping down a level to take this pub on and they had to make it worth my while. Bloody Des, the sodding regional manager, must have been rubbing his hands in glee.’

  ‘And he never said how badly the pub was doing?’

  ‘Not a thing.’

  ‘That’s really shonky.’

  ‘The pub’s doing so badly that I asked him why it wasn’t marked for closure but he just said it would pick up and there were plans.’

  ‘Maybe it will pick up,’ I said. ‘Maybe it’s just the bad weather.’

  ‘And whatever happened to send the Watson family packing.’

  ‘That bloke was here earlier,’ I said, wondering if Ewan Logan had anything to do with why the other landlord left. ‘The one from yesterday. He knew your name and he said he’d had some business with the old landlord.’

  ‘Oh okay,’ said Liv. ‘If he knew my name then maybe he’s a local supplier or something.’

  I made a face. ‘He seems a bit off but he gave me his card.’ I eased it out of my back pocket where I’d shoved it that morning and looked at it. It just said Ewan Logan with a mobile number underneath. I handed it to Liv and she took it, looking at both sides quizzically.

  ‘I’ll give him a ring,’ she said.

  ‘Just be a bit wary,’ I warned and she grinned.

  ‘If there’s one thing this shit with Niall has taught me, it’s not to trust anyone.’

  I gave her a hug. ‘You may be crap with money, Liv, but you’re an excellent pub manager and I reckon it’s going to be okay.’

  ‘How would you know?’ Liv said, but she was smiling.

  ‘I know.’ I hoped I was right, because I’d seen how debt could spiral and get people into more and more difficult situations. But Liv seemed on top of things, didn’t she? I made a mental note to keep an eye on her, but I was sure she’d be fine. I got up. ‘Right, if you’re done with the car for now, I think I might go for a drive and see if I can find the nearest supermarket. I’ll get some food for the week and perhaps something nice for dinner?’

  Liv grinned at me. ‘Sounds good,’ she said.

  It was the first time I’d stepped outside The Moon Girl in the daylight and I had to admit the location was astonishing. The pub was perched on a clifftop where a narrow piece of land jutted out into the dark grey sea. If you stood with your back to the pub and the ocean behind it, you would be facing the road into the small town called Kirrinporth that was the nearest bit of civilisation. The road bent round to the left, past the pub, and ran along parallel to the cliffs towards the larger market town I’d seen on the map last night. In between the road and the sheer drop to the sea, was a wide expanse of bright green grass, dotted with large rocky boulders. And behind the road were trees, which were now swaying as the wind got up.

  Standing in the car park, I breathed in deeply, appreciating the fresh air after London. Yes, it was definitely strange here and it wasn’t quite what we’d expected, but it wasn’t all bad.

  Google maps told me there was a supermarket not far along the main road to my left, so I headed there. The selection wasn’t great, compared with the huge superstore at home, but it was good enough. I loaded up with basics – more teabags, coffee and milk, a loaf of bread, eggs, pasta, some fruit and veg – and chose a chicken to roast for dinner. Comfort food, I thought. Liv and I could both do with some of that.

  I trundled the trolley across the car park and started unloading bags into Liv’s small boot, shoving her gym bag and a pair of wellies which, I thought with a wry smile, she’d probably be glad she’d brought, to one side so I could fit it all in.

  ‘Location scouting?’ a voice said behind me. I jumped and turned to see the younger man from the pub – Jed – smiling at me. My stomach twisted as I took in his tight black T-shirt, which was hugging his broad chest in a most satisfactory fashion.

  He was looking at me in a way that suggested he expected me to talk to him, rather than just gaze at his muscles, so I swallowed. ‘Location scouting?’ I said, quite breathlessly.

  ‘To get your boss off your back?’

  ‘My boss …’ His good looks may have got me distracted but what on earth was he talking about? Did he mean DI Blair?

  ‘You said you had to make a call,’ Jed said. His expression had changed from mild interest to concern. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘A call,’ I said as my white lie came back to me. ‘Of course.’

  ‘So did you? Find a location?’

  I shut the boot with a thud and leaned against the car. ‘Noooo,’ I said. ‘No luck there. Nothing doing.’

  ‘That’s a shame – would be good to have some more interest in the area,’ Jed said. ‘We could do with some of that Poldark magic.’

  I frowned. ‘That was Cornwall wasn’t it?’

  ‘It was, but it was filmed up the road a bit. Not far but far enough that we’ve not really had any of the boost in tourism,’ he said. ‘More’s the pity.’

  ‘It does seem quiet.’

  ‘It comes and goes,’ he said. Then he looked at me, making my cheeks flush. ‘So will you be moving on now you’ve not got a location?’

  God, I knew nothing about TV. Why on earth had I said that? Luckily I saw a get-out and took it. ‘Actually, no,’ I said. ‘I’ve decided to take some time off and help Liv out at the pub.’

  Jed looked pleased. ‘Great,’ he said. ‘That’s really great. I’m pleased about that.’

  He made to walk off and suddenly desperate to keep talking to him, I said: ‘You’re a regular, then? At The Moon Girl?’

  ‘A regular,’ he said. He looked like he was amused by a joke that only he understood, which irritated me a bit. ‘I guess you could call it that.’

  ‘With Ewan Logan, and your other mate?’ I stood up a bit straighter.

  ‘Mark.’

  ‘With Ewan Logan and Mark?’

  ‘Why do you care?’

  ‘I don’t,’ I said. He was properly starting to annoy me now. ‘I’m just interested. Liv’s worried the pub wasn’t very busy when we arrived.’

  Jed was looking at me curiously. ‘Has she opened?’

  ‘Not yet,’ I admitted. ‘I think Liv’s planning to open tomorrow evening. There’s a football match on so she thought people would come to watch.’

  ‘She’s right,’ Jed said.

  ‘Will you spread the word a bit? Tell people we’re opening?’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure what I can do …’

  ‘Please, I’d really appreciate it.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ll mention it to some mates.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  We stood there for a second. I felt a bit awkward though I wasn’t sure why. He was odd, this man. Friendly one minute, then prickly when I mentioned his friends.

  ‘I’d better go,’ I said. ‘I’ve got ice cream. Don’t want it to melt.’

  Jed looked up at the darkening sky and then straight at me. ‘Not much chance of that,’ he said. ‘Bye, Phoebe.’

  As I got into the car, I was smiling. He’d remembered my name.

  Chapter 10

  Emily

  1799

  Mam was drunk. And for once, I didn’t blame her because Morgan had been to the inn again. She had been skittish all afternoon before he arrived. Nervy. Snapping at me when I got under her feet so I retreated to my bedroom to brood. I’d tried to persuade Arthur to help me come up with a way to find out what Morgan wanted with the pub. Or to stop him hurting my mother, or even think of a way to prove he was the man who killed my father, but Arthur said gently that maybe it was too late for that. That I should have said something when Da was killed, because now no one would believe me. I had a horrible feeling that he was right, but how could I rest when my father’s murderer was lurking round the inn, and doing goodness knows what with my mother?r />
  I’d stayed in my room most of the day, wincing every time I heard the clinking as Mam poured herself another drink. I watched the sea and the birds, and sketched the boats that bobbed about on the waves. There were a lot of boats out there, I thought. And one or two seemed closer to shore than usual. Apart from the fishermen, most boats and ships just skirted the Lizard and sailed on by Kirrinporth on their way to Falmouth or up the river to Truro. Today, though, there were more, even though it was a gloomy day with the clouds gathering over the water and the waves swelling bigger and bigger. I looked out at the sea again and shivered. I loved living so close to the water but sometimes it scared me.

  Downstairs, I could hear Mam banging about so I closed my sketchbook and went to find her. The inn was empty and she was draped across the bar, head resting on her outstretched arm, while the other hand held a glass of something. Rum? Brandy? It didn’t matter to me – she’d clearly had a lot of it whatever it was, even though the sun was still in the sky.

  She looked up at me through bleary eyes.

  ‘Emily,’ she said. ‘Are you hungry?’

  I nodded and tugged her sleeve gently to get her to move. Unsteadily, she stood up, and grasping my hand, followed me obediently to the kitchen at the back of the inn. I let her slump down at the table and set about trying to find some food. The shelves were mostly bare, but we still had some cheese and bread in the pantry so I cut chunks and put them on a plate then I sat down too and pushed the plate towards Mam.

  ‘Is there anything to drink?’ she asked.

  Sighing, I got up again, filled a mug with water and put it down in front of her with a thud. Some of the water spilled on to the table and Mam traced the drops with her finger. I pushed the plate nearer again and she picked up a slice of bread and nibbled it. I took a piece of cheese.

  Eventually, when all the food was eaten, Mam spoke. ‘Morgan said he’d come today but he didn’t.’

  I nodded. I’d assumed that was why she’d been so jumpy. I was glad he’d not arrived. I didn’t want him looking at Mam the way he did. Touching her with his big hands. Drooling over her like how Tully had drooled over the pig’s ears my father gave him.

  A tear rolled down Mam’s cheek. ‘I miss him, Emily.’

  I took her hand and squeezed it. I knew where this was going; I’d heard her say the same words so many times since Da died.

  ‘I loved him,’ Mam said. ‘And he loved me. He did. He loved me. “You’re my girl, Janey,” he would say to me.’

  She grimaced. ‘Was he lying?’ she said, her voice harsh from the drink. ‘Was he stringing me along? I know we rowed but I don’t understand why he’d leave, if he loved me like he said.’

  She looked at me, her face ugly and twisted suddenly. ‘I don’t understand why he’d leave me here with this inn a millstone round my neck.’

  I winced at her sadness, wishing I could take it away. Make her feel better.

  Mam pushed the cup of water away and more slopped on to the table.

  ‘I can’t drink this,’ she said. She got up and wobbled out of the kitchen, hitting her hip on the chair as she went. I got up and followed her as she went back into the front of the inn, ricocheting off the wall on the way. She took a bottle of rum from the side and sloshed some into a glass. I put out my hand, trying to stop her.

  ‘What?’ she said. ‘Want some?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Nah. Course you don’t.’

  She swigged from the glass and I stared at her, wondering where the old Mam, the one who’d laughed and danced round the inn with Da, had gone.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that, Emily,’ she said. ‘I’m doing the best I can.’

  Suddenly out of energy, she slumped down heavily on a chair and began to sob. ‘I’m doing the best I can,’ she said again, groggily this time. Her head nodded and jerked, and then dropped on to the table in front of her.

  I knew that she’d fall asleep soon and that her head would hurt when she woke up so I stroked her hair and nudged her to keep her awake. Then I pulled her arm and like a child she let me take her upstairs to her bedroom. I helped her take off her dress and when she lay down in bed I pulled the blanket over her. With her eyes drooping, she looked up at me.

  ‘You’re a good girl, Emily,’ she said. ‘What would I do without you?’

  I smiled and gently brushed her cheek, which was wet with tears.

  ‘I don’t want you to worry,’ Mam went on. ‘Morgan will see us right. I know he will.’

  I froze with my hand still on Mam’s face and shook my head. He wouldn’t see us right. How could he, when he was the reason we were struggling so much?

  Mam snuggled down into the pillow. ‘He’s not a bad man, Emily. He’s just trying to make a living. He’ll take care of us.’

  My throat felt tight and narrow. I gasped in air and tried to speak but nothing happened. I tried again. ‘Mam …’ The word was croaky and stilted but it made her eyes snap open. I took a deep breath. There was so much I wanted to say about Morgan, but all I could manage was: ‘Bad.’

  Mam’s hand shot out from under the blankets and grabbed my hair, yanking my head painfully downwards.

  ‘Stop it,’ she said. ‘You know how things were. You know how bad it had got and how no one would help us. Morgan is offering us a way out and he’s the only chance I’ve got of putting food in your belly. I know he’s not perfect but he’s the only one round here bothering with us, and he’s not going to up and leave like your da did.’

  I wriggled around so she would let go of me and stood up out of her reach. It had gone so far now that I didn’t know if telling her the truth would hurt her more. How would she feel if she knew she’d let the man who killed her husband into her bed? If she knew there was no chance of Da ever coming home. So I stood there and looked at her, taking in the bruises round her wrists and her dark eyes that were dull and hopeless. And then I turned and walked out of the room, leaving her on her own.

  I stood at the top of the stairs for a minute, listening in case Mam called out for me. But she was quiet, so rubbing my hair where she’d pulled it, I went back down to the inn to lock up for the night. There were no customers. It was dark now and quiet on the clifftop. All I could hear was the waves crashing down below. And a shout. Then another. I opened the door and stepped outside into the night. The earlier rain had stopped but the clouds covered the moon and it was as black as the dead of night, though it wasn’t late. I stood still listening. There was nothing.

  Carefully, I walked round to the side of the inn and looked out over the dark sea. No. No sign of anyone or anything. But as I turned to go back inside, a light on the cliff to my right caught my eye, glowing red through the darkness. It wasn’t a house – there was nothing there – but there was definitely a steady glow from somewhere. Was it a lantern? I wasn’t sure. Squinting through the night I tried to see if there was someone there but it was impossible to make out any shapes in the gloom.

  I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. And then I heard a wail, like the yowl of a cat or a woman in pain. With a gasp, my heart thumping, I darted back inside the inn and slammed the door shut, sliding the locks across with trembling fingers. What was that noise? Was someone hurt? Should I help? Quickly, I ran up the stairs, looking in on Mam to check it hadn’t been her crying out, but she slept peacefully.

  In my bedroom, I went to the window and looked out. On the cliff I could see an ethereal glow – different from the glow earlier and sort of other-worldly. I’d seen it before, that phosphorescent glimmer, and it always made me shiver. Again I felt that prickle on the back of my neck. Something was very strange here, I thought as I picked up my sketch book and quickly sketched an outline of the cliffs, to remind me where the odd lights were; I wanted to tell Arthur all about them when I had a chance.

  I put that paper aside, and hunching down in my blankets, I began to draw another picture of Arthur and me on top of our cart, heading out into the wild to build a new
life together. We’d be safe there, I thought. Safer than we were here.

  Chapter 11

  Mam was like a bear with a sore head the next morning. I wasn’t much better. I’d barely slept all night, watching the strange lights on the clifftop and trying to draw them so I could show Arthur.

  While I was sweeping the floor, lulled half to sleep by the rhythmic swishing of the broom, Mam tutted at me.

  ‘You’re no use to me today,’ she said, wrenching the brush from my hands. ‘Go and fetch me some meat for dinner.’

  I was surprised. We ate little meat, because it was so expensive. Mam saw my expression.

  ‘You know I’ve got the money,’ she said. Then as she saw understanding on my face, she added, almost smugly: ‘Morgan isn’t so bad when he puts food in our bellies, is he?’

  She dropped some coins into my outstretched hand and I put them into my pocket.

  ‘Don’t hurry back,’ she said.

  I stared at her, searching for the right words and not finding them. Mam turned away from me, swirling her skirt, as though she was at a ball. But as I watched her go, her shoulders slumped. I knew she was trying to talk herself into feeling happy with this arrangement with Morgan. But she wasn’t. How could she be?

  For now, though, I wanted to see Arthur and tell him all about the lights I’d seen on the cliff. I gathered my sketch book and hurried off into the village to find him.

  He was in the church with his father, stacking hymn books.

  ‘Hello, Emily,’ said Reverend Pascoe. I nodded to him, feeling my throat closing up. He smiled. He was a kind man, I always thought, though Arthur said he was weak. ‘Was it me you wanted, or my son?’ I gestured to Arthur and the vicar smiled again. ‘Why don’t you and Emily finish up here, Arthur?’

  ‘Will do,’ Arthur said. He handed me some books. ‘Let’s get started.’

  His father said goodbye and I waited as his footsteps echoed through the empty church and out through the vestry, before I spoke.