Page 38 of The Cornish Widow

He lay on his back beside Theo, gazing up at the stars. What would it be like if he had a boy of his own to show the world to? That thought needed shrugging away. He would have to make do with showing Harriet’s boy instead. Which brought his thoughts to Harriet. Why not ask Theo a few gentle questions? He seemed the sort of boy who liked to talk.

“Do you miss your father?”

After a moment’s silence, Theo answered, his voice strangely taut. “No.”

Not the answer Jack had been expecting. “Oh. Why’s that?”

Theo shifted the telescope. “Well…” He paused. “He was hardly ever there.”

“I suppose as a soldier he was often away fighting.”

Theo nodded without removing the telescope from his eye. “It was nicer when he was away.”

Trust a child to be this candid. “Was it?”

Another nod. “Mama was happiest when he wasn’t at home.”

Things began to slot into place. “And when he was home, what was she like?”

Was that a shudder? Theo gave a grunt. “She was unhappy. No… she was frightened all the time.” He paused. “Is that one a planet? I’d like to see a planet. I know their names.”

Never mind planets. Jack wanted to know what had happened to frighten Harriet in that house in Bath when Theo’s father had been home. “What was she frightened of?”

“Of Papa.” Another pause. “She thinks me and Lyddie didn’t know, but we did. He didn’t like us getting in his way, so we were mostly upstairs in the nursery when he was home. But we’re not deaf.” He lowered the telescope and turned to look at Jack. “We heard him shouting at her.” Another pause. “Lyddie still liked him because he brought her presents, but I didn’t. He was nicer to Lyddie than he was to me. I don’t think he liked me at all.”

So her husband had been a bully. That he hadn’t wanted his children around was nothing new. A lot of men felt like that, and a lot of children were kept confined to their nurseries. And a lot of men bullied their wives. A woman in that situation had no recourse. She was her husband’s chattel and had to do as he said. Unlike his own mother, who’d always done as she wished and never even considered confining Jack to his nursery.

“And now he’s gone? How is she now?”

Theo sat up, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging them. “She’s much happier, and so am I. Lyddie misses him, I think. He sometimes used to call her ‘his little angel,’ when he was in a good mood. But that wasn’t often. Mostly he was just cross all the time. I don’t miss him at all.” He set his lips together in a firm line and his brow furrowed. “I’m glad he’s gone because now I’m the man of the house and I’m never going to shout at Mama ever. Then she’ll be happy all of the time.”

Jack sat up too and held out his hand for the telescope. “A good resolution. I’d like to see your mama happy as well. It sounds like she deserves some happiness. Now, we’re off at ten, and my men’ll be back soon from the kiddley. I’m probably going to have to go and winkle them out, so off you go now, back to your mama before she gets worried about you out here in the dark. We’ve cargo to deliver. The Fly’s a working ship and has to earn her living.”

“What sort of cargo?”

Now he was getting too nosy. Perhaps befriending him like this wasn’t such a good idea, even if it had led to an explanation of some of Harriet’s wariness. “None of your business. And it wouldn’t interest you anyway. Now, off you go.”

With obvious reluctance, Theo climbed the ladder while Jack watched, just to make sure he didn’t slip and fall in. When he reached the top, he turned to have one last try. “I could come with you when you go? Be your cabin boy?”

Jack chuckled. Full marks for persistence. “No. I already told you you’re too young, and anyway, I already have a cabin boy. Go home and do some growing. I’ll take you out when you’re fourteen. Life on board any ship isn’t easy. Good night.”

Theo sighed deeply, and with shoulders hunched, he set off back up the path towards Tummels’ house, which would be empty now its occupant had repaired to the kiddley with his sometime shipmates.

Jack watched him out of sight, then sat himself down on the hatch again and took out his hip flask. All around him night was gathering, the lights of Porth en Alls a faint twinkle on the far headland. He could have been anywhere, so deep was the peace. From the little beach just over the rocks the deep swooshing of the waves pulling on the sand echoed over to him. A sound he loved to hear. He’d just have a quick swig of brandy then nip across to the kiddley and reclaim his men. They’d all be replete with Lovey’s stew and a few jars of ale and would no doubt have forgotten the time.

Once he had them back, they’d let The Fly slip her moorings and glide silently out into the night, her cargo of tobacco, something that carried a high tax in France, ready to trade in Roscoff for the barrels of brandy the local squires hereabouts loved.

Five more minutes and then he’d go.

Overhead, more stars sprang out in the blue-black of the sky, and Jack lay back on the hatch covers again, staring up at them as they blinked between the gently rocking spars and rigging. Best not close his eyes or he’d be asleep in the cradle of the sea and then they’d never get to Roscoff.