do it on my own, Jack, I just couldn’t. Some women manage all right when they lose their husband, but I’m not one of them.’
‘You might find yoursen another fellow,’ Meg tossed at her. ‘That’d be a big help to the rest of us.’
Netta shook her head and for a moment her eyes were blind with memories. ‘Nay, I want no other after your dad. I couldn’t love another fellow like I loved my Jem. Eh, he was that good-looking when he was younger, I thought I was set for life when he wanted to wed me.’ She sighed. ‘No, I just couldn’t bear anyone else to touch me.’
Jack could not gainsay her. ‘I’ll keep my promise, Mam.’ Though he knew well enough that her memories of her husband were flawed. Well, let her think that way if it gave her comfort.
‘Funny way you two had of showing your love, then. You did nothing but quarrel. An’ as for you, our Jack, you’re a soft fool to give in to her,’ Meg snapped and whisked out of the house, banging the door behind her.
It was weeks before the final trial would take place. Mr Bradley had explained to Jack about the others being just committal hearings and having to wait for the Assizes before a judge could make a final decision on such a serious case.
Watching his mother fret and worry, Jack wondered if these rich folk realised how hard it was on the families of the accused who had to wait such a long time to find out what would happen to their loved ones. His mother looked years older since his father’s death and his sister’s tongue had never been so sharp, while he felt weighed down with sadness and responsibility - and terror that they would hang his brother.
Even if they only sentenced Tom to transportation, he would be lost to them and that was a hard thing to face.
Near the time for the trial, the Parson came round to tell his mother that Mr Samuel was to attend it and put in a plea for clemency. He would take Constable Makepeace with him to give evidence. Since it was his family’s property the men had attacked and he who had been bashed, there was hope that this would sway the judge to be lenient. But apparently old Mr Rishmore was angry about what his son was doing and had washed his hands of the whole business.
‘Will it really make a difference if Mr Samuel does that?’ Jack asked quietly as he showed Mr Bradley out. ‘I want the truth, please.’ He was the one who would have to deal with his mother.
‘He thinks so. It’ll still be transportation for your Tom, his lawyer thinks, and the Rishmores will be satisfied with that as punishment.’ He patted his young companion’s shoulder. ‘If you ever need someone to talk to, lad, my door is always open.’
Jack nodded but knew he wouldn’t take advantage of this offer. What good would talking do now? No one could help Tom’s family face their loss, and Jack missed his brother’s cheerful presence and his father’s solid warmth every single day. But the Parson was a kind man and it had been a good thing for the town when he took up the living. His wife was exactly the same, always helping folk in trouble.
When Mr Samuel came back from the trial he called Jack and the others who had family members involved into the mill yard and told them gravely what sentences their sons, husbands and brothers had been given. Only Tom had been sentenced to transportation, because he had used violence against a soldier, and he would be sent to the hulks in London. He would stay in one of these rotting old ships, which were used as extra jails, until he left for New South Wales, never to return.
All Jack could do was write a letter to Tom, find out from Mr Bradley where to send it - and lie awake at night wondering how his brother was and where he was now. He did a lot of that.
His sister’s friend Sam Repley had been let off with only a fine and some uncle had come forward to pay it. His sister was missing Sam greatly, he knew, more than Jack had expected her to, since he agreed with
‘You might find yoursen another fellow,’ Meg tossed at her. ‘That’d be a big help to the rest of us.’
Netta shook her head and for a moment her eyes were blind with memories. ‘Nay, I want no other after your dad. I couldn’t love another fellow like I loved my Jem. Eh, he was that good-looking when he was younger, I thought I was set for life when he wanted to wed me.’ She sighed. ‘No, I just couldn’t bear anyone else to touch me.’
Jack could not gainsay her. ‘I’ll keep my promise, Mam.’ Though he knew well enough that her memories of her husband were flawed. Well, let her think that way if it gave her comfort.
‘Funny way you two had of showing your love, then. You did nothing but quarrel. An’ as for you, our Jack, you’re a soft fool to give in to her,’ Meg snapped and whisked out of the house, banging the door behind her.
It was weeks before the final trial would take place. Mr Bradley had explained to Jack about the others being just committal hearings and having to wait for the Assizes before a judge could make a final decision on such a serious case.
Watching his mother fret and worry, Jack wondered if these rich folk realised how hard it was on the families of the accused who had to wait such a long time to find out what would happen to their loved ones. His mother looked years older since his father’s death and his sister’s tongue had never been so sharp, while he felt weighed down with sadness and responsibility - and terror that they would hang his brother.
Even if they only sentenced Tom to transportation, he would be lost to them and that was a hard thing to face.
Near the time for the trial, the Parson came round to tell his mother that Mr Samuel was to attend it and put in a plea for clemency. He would take Constable Makepeace with him to give evidence. Since it was his family’s property the men had attacked and he who had been bashed, there was hope that this would sway the judge to be lenient. But apparently old Mr Rishmore was angry about what his son was doing and had washed his hands of the whole business.
‘Will it really make a difference if Mr Samuel does that?’ Jack asked quietly as he showed Mr Bradley out. ‘I want the truth, please.’ He was the one who would have to deal with his mother.
‘He thinks so. It’ll still be transportation for your Tom, his lawyer thinks, and the Rishmores will be satisfied with that as punishment.’ He patted his young companion’s shoulder. ‘If you ever need someone to talk to, lad, my door is always open.’
Jack nodded but knew he wouldn’t take advantage of this offer. What good would talking do now? No one could help Tom’s family face their loss, and Jack missed his brother’s cheerful presence and his father’s solid warmth every single day. But the Parson was a kind man and it had been a good thing for the town when he took up the living. His wife was exactly the same, always helping folk in trouble.
When Mr Samuel came back from the trial he called Jack and the others who had family members involved into the mill yard and told them gravely what sentences their sons, husbands and brothers had been given. Only Tom had been sentenced to transportation, because he had used violence against a soldier, and he would be sent to the hulks in London. He would stay in one of these rotting old ships, which were used as extra jails, until he left for New South Wales, never to return.
All Jack could do was write a letter to Tom, find out from Mr Bradley where to send it - and lie awake at night wondering how his brother was and where he was now. He did a lot of that.
His sister’s friend Sam Repley had been let off with only a fine and some uncle had come forward to pay it. His sister was missing Sam greatly, he knew, more than Jack had expected her to, since he agreed with
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