The Smuggler's Daughter Read online

  ‘I’ll top up the crisps,’ I said. I grabbed a couple of bags and went round the tables again, filling the bowls and smiling at the customers. I was glad Liv wasn’t here all alone because even though everyone seemed nice, I knew how the atmosphere in a pub could turn in a minute when you mixed men, beer and football. I eyed a group of lads with suspicion and then forced myself to stop. Anchor yourself, Phoebe, I said inwardly. Think about where you are and what you’re doing. I took a few deep breaths, thinking about all my senses and what was happening around me. And sure enough, nothing was happening. Everyone was fine. There were no raised voices, no trouble brewing. I let myself relax a bit.

  As I made my way round the pub, I saw Jed and I felt myself stand up a bit straighter, glad I’d put on a clean top and done my make-up for the evening. He was sitting with the bald man – Mark – at a table close to the door. I topped up their bowl of crisps, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped when I saw him, and smiled at them both. But mostly at Jed.

  ‘Thanks for coming,’ I said.

  ‘It’s not a bad turnout,’ Jed said.

  ‘It’s great,’ I said. ‘Better than Liv hoped, I think. Thank you for spreading the word.’

  He shrugged. ‘Wasn’t all me.’

  ‘We’re grateful anyway.’

  ‘She looks happier, your mate,’ Mark said, nodding to where Liv was handing a pint to a customer and laughing. He was right. She did look less pinched and worried. ‘She had a right face on her the other day.’

  ‘She’s got a lot on her mind,’ I said.

  Mark and Jed glanced at one another.

  ‘It’s a tough business,’ Mark said. ‘Hard to make a living.’

  ‘It really is.’

  ‘Constant money worries, I reckon,’ he went on.

  ‘I wouldn’t know,’ I said vaguely. This was a strange chat to be having. I looked at Jed for help, but his attention was on the TV screen.

  Behind me, Ewan appeared, holding three pints of lager and making me jump.

  ‘Who’s got money worries?’ he said. ‘TV work not pay well?’

  Gah, that stupid fib I’d told was going to stay with me all summer. I forced a smile. ‘I’ve taken a bit of time off actually,’ I said. ‘Fancied a change.’

  Ewan looked at me, seeming slightly amused. ‘If you need a job, come and see me,’ he said.

  ‘Oh I think I’ll have enough to keep me busy here actually.’

  ‘I was telling …’ Mark trailed off.

  ‘Phoebe,’ Jed said, his eyes still on the football. I looked down at the glasses I was holding and smiled to myself.

  ‘I was telling Phoebe that it’s a tough business,’ Mark went on.

  ‘So tough,’ said Ewan, sitting down and pushing the drinks across the table to Mark and Jed. ‘Lots of people pack it in because they just can’t make ends meet.’

  He looked over to where Liv was standing behind the bar. ‘Is Olivia struggling?’

  ‘She’s fine,’ I said firmly. Why on earth were they so interested in Liv’s money, I wondered. The odd way the conversation had gone made me feel unsettled. But I pushed my suspicions aside and tried to concentrate on something else.

  ‘Did you know the family that lived here before?’ I asked. ‘You said you worked with them. Do you know why they left?’

  Jed looked at me sharply but he didn’t speak, just turned his gaze back to the screen, even though the football was finished now and most of the other drinkers were leaving. Ewan leaned back in his chair. ‘Why do you want to know?’

  I shrugged. ‘Just because we’ve got some of their stuff and I wanted to send it on,’ I said. ‘No biggie.’

  Ewan smiled at me. ‘That’s nice of you,’ he said, though somehow he sounded as though it was anything but nice. ‘But no, sorry, I don’t know where they’ve gone.’

  ‘Maybe it was the ghosts,’ Mark said. ‘Maybe they got spooked.’

  ‘What ghosts?’ I made a face. ‘Is the pub meant to be haunted?’

  ‘Do you want to hear the story?’ Mark looked gleeful and I felt a flicker of interest in what he had to say.

  ‘Go on then,’ I said. ‘But hang on two secs.’ I looked up and beckoned to Liv. ‘Come and hear this.’

  She came over. ‘What?’

  ‘Ghost story,’ Mark said.

  ‘Ooh yes please.’ Liv loved a spooky tale. She pulled up another chair for me and one for herself and we both settled down. Even Jed turned his attention away from the television and on to his friend.

  ‘I’ve lived round here my whole life,’ said Mark. ‘I grew up with these stories and you might think they’re all rubbish but I reckon there’s some truth in them. I’ve seen things myself that can’t be explained.’

  ‘Like what?’ said Liv as another group of drinkers left the pub. ‘Goodnight. Take care out there, it’s started raining again.’

  ‘I’ve heard things, cries and wailing.’

  ‘In the pub?’ I said doubtfully. ‘Really?’

  ‘No, outside on the cliffs,’ said Mark. ‘And I’ve seen strange lights and shadows.’

  ‘Probably just the local kids having a laugh,’ said Liv.

  But Jed shook his head. ‘No one goes on the cliffs. They’re not safe.’

  ‘I saw people up there this morning.’ There was a footpath that went along behind the pub where I’d seen some walkers earlier, and remarked to Liv that we could do packed lunches for them to make some extra money.

  ‘And there’s literally a bus route that goes along the top.’

  ‘The road’s fine and the path’s fine, but the grass nearer the edge isn’t totally stable. You should go no further than the path,’ said Jed quite sternly. I rather liked it. He held my gaze for a second too long and, flustered, I took a mouthful of lager.

  ‘That’s mine,’ said Mark.

  ‘God, sorry.’

  He grinned. ‘Have it.’

  Ewan pushed his untouched drink towards Liv. ‘Want one?’

  She took it, smiling at him. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Get on with the story,’ Jed said crossly. He seemed to be in a funny mood this evening, I thought. Or perhaps that’s just how he was. It wasn’t as though I knew him.

  ‘There are two stories,’ Mark said. ‘Both about doomed lovers and tragic endings. The first is the tale of Theodora and Diggory.’

  ‘Theodora and Diggory?’ scoffed Liv.

  I giggled. ‘Sound like the kids in my nephew’s class in West London.’

  Mark glared at me. ‘This was hundreds of years ago,’ he said. ‘They’re good old-fashioned Cornish names.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Theodora and Diggory were deeply in love,’ Mark said. ‘But they had to meet in secret because her father didn’t approve. And one night, they plunged to their deaths from the clifftops, just outside. Apparently you can still see the lights from their lanterns as they search for each other on dark nights.’

  I shivered, enjoying the spooky story.

  ‘Years after Diggory and Theodora died, a young woman went missing. The story goes that she had heard the tale of Diggory and Theodora and went exploring on the clifftops to see if she could find any evidence of the doomed lovers. But instead, she too plummeted to her death. At least, that’s what everyone thought, but her body was never found. It’s said that on the nights when the moon is bright, you can see the girl, standing on the cliff. And if the wind’s in the right direction, you can hear her crying.’

  A sudden gust of wind threw rain against the windowpane and all of us jumped and then laughed at how creeped out we were.

  ‘Do you want to know her name?’ Mark said. He was clearly loving every second of this.

  Liv and I nodded in unison and he grinned. ‘Her name was Emily Moon.’

  Liv got it straightaway. ‘The Moon Girl,’ she said in delight. ‘She’s the Moon Girl.’

  ‘She’s who the pub is named after,’ said Mark triumphantly.

  ‘Not after Phoebe then,
’ joked Liv.

  The men all looked at me.

  ‘Is your name Moon?’ Jed said, interested.

  I shook my head. ‘Phoebe means Moon,’ I told him. I pulled my necklace out with my thumb and showed him the little crescent. ‘It’s why I wear this.’

  Liv wanted to know more about the other Moon Girl. ‘What happened to her?’ she asked. ‘What happened to Emily Moon?’

  ‘No one knows for sure,’ Mark said.

  I shivered, thinking of Ciara. ‘How old was she?’ I said in a small voice.

  He shrugged. ‘Fifteen? Sixteen?’

  I looked down into my drink. Poor Emily Moon.

  ‘It was a long time ago,’ Mark added.

  ‘So she just vanished?’ Liv asked.

  ‘The current’s strong here,’ Mark said. ‘Anything that goes in the water at Kirrinporth ends up at Barnmouth. When we were kids we would chuck messages in bottles into the sea and they always washed up two miles down the coast. It’s because of the way the coast is at this part of Cornwall. The current moves east but the way the land juts out …’

  ‘David Attenborough will be turning in his grave,’ interrupted Ewan, rolling his eyes.

  ‘David Attenborough’s not dead,’ Liv pointed out. ‘And he’s more about the animals isn’t he? I think you need that Scottish fella with the hair. He talks about coastlines. What’s his name?’

  But I just wanted to hear more about Emily Moon. ‘So everything that goes in here, washes up there?’ I said, trying to get the conversation back on track.

  Mark nodded. ‘Anything. Driftwood, fishing nets …’ He glanced at Ewan defiantly. ‘Messages in bottles. Bodies.’

  ‘But Emily Moon never washed up?’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘So perhaps she didn’t die?’

  ‘If she didn’t die, then whose ghost walks along the clifftop?’ said Mark.

  There was a second as we all stared at each other and then Ewan let out a bark of laughter that made me jump.

  ‘We’ll never bloody know, will we?’ he said. ‘Come on, let’s leave these ladies to it.’

  Obediently, Jed and Mark drained their pints and stood up and they all walked to the door. I was a bit disappointed but it was getting late and we needed to clear up. Liv followed the men. ‘I’ll lock up behind you,’ she said.

  I gathered the empty glasses from our table as Liv let them out. I noticed that Ewan said something to her and she nodded. They all called goodnight and Liv shouted back and then it was quiet. She went to push the door shut and as she did so, a deep keening moan sounded across the clifftop.

  Liv and I both froze and she slammed the door, locking it firmly, then turned to me, half laughing, half scared.

  ‘Wind,’ she said.

  ‘Wind.’

  But I couldn’t help shivering as we went upstairs to bed.

  Chapter 14

  Emily

  1799

  There was nothing on the cliffs. Of course there wasn’t. It was broad daylight for a start and the path was busy with people going from Kirrinporth to the market at Barnmouth.

  Arthur grinned at me in something that looked rather like triumph, tinged with the tiniest bit of disappointment. ‘There’s nothing here.’

  I looked out over the sea, where the sunlight sparkled on the waves. ‘It’s daytime,’ I pointed out.

  He shrugged. ‘We could come up here any night and not come across Theodora and Diggory.’

  ‘I know,’ I said, nodding. I sat down on one of the big boulders that lined the way across the cliffs.

  ‘Mr Trewin made up that story,’ Arthur said. ‘But at least we have seen it for ourselves.’

  He took my hand and squeezed my fingers. ‘So now we have two mysteries to solve. We have the mystery of what Morgan wants with your mother, and we have the mystery of why Mr Trewin told us his ghost story.’

  ‘Mischief,’ I suggested. Mr Trewin struck me as the type of man who would enjoy scaring someone.

  ‘I thought the same,’ Arthur said. ‘And what about Morgan?’

  I watched a boat, far out on the horizon, and I swallowed, readying myself to speak. ‘I’m going to keep watch on him,’ I said. ‘Find out what he’s up to.’

  Arthur squeezed my fingers again, and with his thumb he gently rubbed the back of my hand. It was a curious sensation that made my whole body feel like it frothed like the waves breaking on the shore. I liked it.

  ‘Just be very careful, Emily,’ he said. ‘You are too precious to risk being harmed.’

  I felt a strange fluttering in my stomach. We looked at each other for a moment and then across the grass came the sound of the church bell clanging the hour. Arthur stood up, letting go of my hand, much to my disappointment.

  ‘I must go,’ he said. ‘Come and find me when you have news about Morgan.’

  ‘I will.’

  I watched him bound along the path with his long-legged stride and smiled to myself. I was lucky to have Arthur as a friend.

  The rest of that day passed uneventfully, and the next. We had no visits from Morgan and the inn was quiet. I mostly stayed upstairs, trying to draw Arthur’s face from memory. Eventually, the next day, I was so bored I went downstairs to find my mother. I found her sitting listlessly at a table in the inn, staring out of the window at the sea.

  I touched her on the shoulder and she turned to look at me. Her eyes were pink and puffy and I thought I saw tear smudges on her cheeks, but she smiled at me.

  ‘What’s new, Emily Moon?’ she said and I knew she had been crying from her words. That was what my father used to say to me when he came home after being out, even if he’d only been into Kirrinporth to buy cheese. She’d been thinking about him and it made her sad. Feeling a sudden rush of affection for her, I put my arm round her shoulders and pulled her close. She relaxed into my embrace for a second, then pulled away. I mimed eating and pointed to the inn’s door and she nodded.

  ‘We could do with some cheese and see if you can get some meat. And there’s no flour so if you want bread you’ll need to get that too.’ She dug in her skirt and pulled out some coins. I thought it was Morgan’s money and I didn’t want it but I took it anyway because I was hungry.

  I gave her a small wave and she went back to staring out of the window.

  I did not like going shopping. I didn’t like the people and the noise, but I knew if we wanted to eat, I had to go. So I trudged into Kirrinporth in the rain, pulling my cloak around me and trying to stop it trailing in the mud. My father had often tried to teach me how to ride, but I didn’t like horses much either because I found them unpredictable. I preferred to walk.

  As I went, I kept my gaze lowered so I didn’t have to make eye contact with anyone, and as I approached the shops, I kept close to the buildings. I had found if I walked nearer the centre of the street I would forever be bumping into people, or jumping out of the way of horses. It was easier to be at the edge.

  I would do the chores, and then go by the church and see if I could find Arthur, I thought. Though the rain was getting heavier and really I should get home as fast as I could. A carriage went by me, too fast for the small village street, and I ducked into a doorway to avoid being splattered with mud as it went. As I huddled there, out of sight from the road, I caught a glimpse of Morgan. He was striding through the puddles in his boots, nodding greetings to people he passed. Everyone got out of his way, I noticed. He didn’t divert his path at all but people simply melted away. Like the parting of the Red Sea.

  He walked across the street, behind the carriage that had gone by in a flurry of mud, past where I was standing, hidden by the bay window of the shop, and down an alleyway just ahead of me.

  Where was he going? I wondered. That alley led to a little courtyard, I knew, where people tied up horses. It was secluded and the sort of place a young woman like me would never go alone. I hesitated for a second and then followed him down the little narrow opening. At the end, I paused, not wanting to be seen. I
could hear voices – Morgan’s and someone else’s. Next to me were some long, wide planks of wood, propped up against the wall, and before I knew it I’d crouched down and crept into the tiny space they made. I could see through the gaps between planks so I could watch Morgan and the other man and I could hear everything they were saying.

  ‘Everything’s ready to go,’ the other man said. He sounded annoyed. ‘You said it would be tonight. It’s the new moon.’

  ‘Storm’s coming,’ said Morgan.

  ‘It’s fine. There’s no storm.’

  ‘Storm’s coming,’ Morgan said again. ‘The tide’s wrong. We can’t risk it.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Not tonight.’

  He spun around on his heels and went to leave, clearly thinking he’d had the last word, but the other man wasn’t finished yet. He was taller than Morgan but lanky where Morgan was broad and muscular. He shot his long arm out, gripped the collar of Morgan’s coat and yanked him backwards. I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself gasping out loud.

  ‘Tonight,’ the lanky man said. ‘Or not at all.’

  Morgan stood stock still, the man still gripping his collar behind him. Then, quick as a flash – so fast I didn’t see how he managed it – he whirled round and suddenly he was behind the lanky man, pulling his arm up behind his back and pressing his face into the dripping wet wall of the courtyard.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Storm will have passed and the clouds will still be thick.’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ the lanky man squeaked.

  ‘Sure?’

  The lanky man tried to nod, but it obviously wasn’t easy with Morgan’s big hand on the back of his neck.

  ‘If you don’t want the job, then there’s plenty who will help,’ Morgan said with a growl. ‘And we won’t ask again.’

  ‘I want the job,’ the man managed to say. ‘Tomorrow is fine.’

  He said something else, something I couldn’t hear, and I strained to listen. Morgan had clearly understood though, because he chuckled. ‘You leave Janey Moon to me.’

  I stiffened. What did my mother have to do with any of this?

  Morgan gave the man another shove and pushed him into the wall a bit harder, then he let go and the man staggered. ‘Don’t be late,’ Morgan said. The man shook his head and hurried off down the alley back to the street. Morgan let out a bark of laughter and followed him, more calmly.