The Guinea Thief - Chapter 3 - Island Exile

The next day when Jack came down for breakfast , he found a feast laid out before him. Mr Goody sitting comfortably by the fire, looked up and grinned at Jack.

“It seems that your lucky escape warrants the biggest breakfast this house has ever seen. Best make sure you don’t make a habit of it, I don’t think I can afford to eat like this every morning.” He laughed.

Jack grinned in return. He was absolutely famished and the wonderful smell of fried sausages was making his mouth water in anticipation.

Mrs Goody bustled in from the kitchen, wiped her hands on her apron and gave Jack a huge hug.

“Now then, don’t expect this everyday. I’m just glad to see you home safe.”

Jack sat down at the table and was quickly joined by Mr and Mrs Goody.

“Dig in lad, we should eat this while it’s hot.” Said Robert

The next few minutes were spent in absolute silence, while the two men devoured the food, and Mrs Goody watched benevolently.

“Aren’t you going to have anything?” asked Jack in between mouthfuls of soft scrambled egg and black meaty field mushrooms.

“I am, I am, I just want to look at you for a while. I am so pleased you’re here.” Mrs Goody reached over and squeezed Jack’s hand, even though he was still clutching his fork.

Mr Goody, nodded his assent. “We both are, you gave me a bit of a scare last night.” He paused and set his cutlery down on the table.

“Jack, we’ve been thinking, I can’t be sure the press gang won’t try to take you again. We both think it would be a good idea if you spend some time away from here. Beth’s brother lives a few miles from here on Hayling Island. It’s quiet and safe there and we can be sure you will be in good hands.”

Jack thought back to the last time he had met Beth’s brother John. It was quite some years ago. All he could remember was that John ran a tavern, had four strapping sons named after the apostles and a dainty little wife, Eve. But more than that he could not say.

Jack pulled a face, and was about to say, “Do I have to?” when he saw the serious look on Robert’s face. There was going to be no debate on this one, and realizing that it would be churlish to argue with the man who had just saved him, he quietly nodded his assent.

“Whatever you think is best.”

Mrs Goody’s face flooded with relief.

“Very good. John is sending Matthew and Little John over this afternoon to pick up you and your luggage. Once you’ve finished your breakfast I’ll come up and help you gather together some things for your stay.”

The speed with which the arrangement had been made took Jack by surprise.

“Today?”

“Yes today.” Mrs Goody answered. “John was here already this morning, it’s all arranged.”

Jack continued to look confused.

“We let you sleep in. It’s already noon.”

Jack scratched his head. He could not believe he had slept so late.

“No wonder I’m so hungry. It’s been hours since I last ate.”

Everyone laughed.

Jack returned his attention to his breakfast and deep in thought, set to work on enjoying every last crumb of Mrs Goody’s home cooking. He was used to city living and was not quite sure what to expect once he got to the island.

“Lot’s of fish I guess.” He thought idly to himself. “What on earth would he do all day stuck in the middle of fields and mud, surrounded by marshland and sea? This was going to be a very long, boring summer.”

A few hours later, Mrs Goody and Jack had managed to pack his most precious possessions into a trunk and Jack sat down to wait for the two brothers to arrive. He had asked if he could have some time to say goodbye to his friends. But Mr Goody felt it was better if he just slipped away for a while. Jack was anxious about leaving the city that had been his home his whole life.

Mrs Goody sought to reassure him. “You’ll be fine Jack. The island is not such a bad place you know. I grew up there. Once you’ve settled in we’ll come and visit. I promise.”

Jack nodded glumly and looked up at her.

“I will be fine, you’re right. And don’t worry about me, at least there I can’t get into any more scrapes.” He sought to re-assure her with a smile and with much relief she smiled back.

“Good. I could do without worrying about you quite so much as I did yesterday. I’m sure I have a lot more grey hairs than I did the day before.”

Jack sat down on his bed, Mrs Goody went down the stairs and left Jack to say his last goodbyes to the only bedroom that had been in his living memory. Leaving was a bit of a shock and perhaps it was for the best that he did not have too much time to dwell on it.

Soon enough he heard a voice shout, “Jack, come on down, the boys are here.”

Trying not to appear too unhappy at the prospect Jack, galloped down the stairs and arrived at the bottom with a thud. In the parlour were two of the tallest men he had ever seen.

“Hello Jack, I don’t suppose you remember us. It’s been a few years since we last saw you.” The smaller of the two men, but only by an inch or so held out his hand and shook Jack’s warmly. “I’m cousin Matthew, and this chump here is my brother.”

The second man held out his hand, smiled warmly at Jack and placed his second hand over Jacks, clasping both hands together in a firm but friendly grip.

“Good to see you Jack, we all heard about your lucky escape. I’m looking forward to showing you around.”

Jack felt strangely at home with the Matthew and John. They had a quiet strength and physical presence to which he was immediately drawn. Perhaps this was not such a bad move after all.

Mrs Goody made the lads sit down with tea and cake, which they demolished with relish.

“Aunt Bessie, you really do make the loveliest cake. I can’t remember the last time I had anything this good. Perhaps we could do a swap and stay here?”

“Get off with you boys,” said Mrs Goody delighted with the compliment and she tousled Matthews curly hair as she went to fetch more cake from the kitchen. “You’re just like your dad, you are. Cheeky monkey, think flattery will get you anywhere. Tell him I’ll be by to see him as soon as I can. It’s been too long.”

An hour later Matthew and John brought down Jack’s trunk, brushing aside his insistence that he could manage fine on his own, with a simple.

“That’s as maybe, but it’s our job to get you back to Hayling in one piece and falling down the stairs and being crushed by your trunk would not be a good start.”
The trunk was loaded on the cart that the two boys had brought with them and after a tearful goodbye from Mrs Goody and a hearty hug from Mr Goody, Jack set off to Hayling. Turning back to wave one last time, Jack felt an unexpected sense of excitement. Matthew and John’s solid outlines lent a hearty reassurance to the whole trip and Jack realised that a change of scene was probably long overdue. Although a flat marshy island was perhaps not top of his list of places to see, the company he would be keeping looked the sort that could turn the dullest of places into a source of fun.

The first part of the journey to the island was much quicker than Jack had expected. Matthew drove the cart with Jack and John sitting on the bench beside him. It was a bit of a squash but they had all agreed it was better than one of them sitting alone with a trunk for company. Jack and John chatted amiably catching up on all their news, leaving Matthew to concentrate on navigating the potholes on the road ahead. John described life on the island, his three brothers, his father and his mother, Eve. The tavern they ran was not the only family business, they also had oyster beds which were the responsibility of Luke and a small farm which was managed by the other three lads. The farm had been in the family for generations and was where his aunt had grown up. Jack struggled to imagine Mrs Goody as a young farm girl. John told him he was sure that his father, (also rather confusingly called John) would be sure to tell him plenty of stories about Aunt Bessie, some of whose exploits were legendary on the island.

Within a couple of hours they arrived at the harbour at Langstone. John and Mathew jumped down from the cart and gestured for Jack to do the same.

“What do we do now?” Jack asked pointing to the stretch of mud and water that laid between them and the bank on the far side.

Matthew laughed. “We have a sup of ale and we wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For the tide to go out. At it’s lowest ebb we can take the cart across the Wadeway and be on our way again. But for now we simply have to watch and wait. Come let’s sample a pint of Charley’s best ale and see if it is a patch on our own.” Matthew clapped a firm arm around Jack’s slender shoulders and led him into the Royal Oak, a pub which conveniently stood right on the quayside.

Inside the bar it was dark and it took Jack a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the light. Once he did he was surprised to see a large number of men and women with various bundles and sacks, all also awaiting the tide to fall. Matthew and John were warmly greeted by the other islanders. Clearly this was a meeting point for all those who had occasion to leave the island for a few hours or a few days.

Matthew went to the bar to order the beers and John proceeded to introduce Jack to the other islanders marooned there too. As soon as John told them that Jack was Bessie Pyecroft’s adopted son, they clamoured to ask after her health. Everyone of them said it had been age since they had last seen her, wished her while and asked Jack to tell her to come visit the island soon. She was clearly missed and much loved. Jack was touched by the warmth of their expression. Living on an island the sense of community and shared roots was very strong, even after the passing of many years.

An hour or more past in blur of beer, warmth and conversation, and then Matthew beckoned Jack to come with him outside. The moon shimmered invitingly across the creek, seeming to light a path across the dwindling water.

“Don’t you worry Jack, soon the tide will be completely out and we can walk across to the other side.”

Jack was shocked by the expanse of mud which now stood where the sea had been a few hours before.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” he asked.

“It is if you go with us, but I wouldn’t recommend it on your own at night. There’s quickmud out there and you wouldn’t be the first who didn’t make it to the other side.” Matthew laughed comfortingly.

“But John and I have been crossing the creek since we were boys and and we know every inch of the causeway. Trust us and don’t worry. You’ll get safely to the other side.”

“Tell me more about the island. It’s just a few miles from Portsmouth but I know nothing about it.”

“Where should I begin? It’s mostly farms and fields, surrounded by oyster beds and marsh on one side and glistening white sands on the other. There’s a ferry boat which can take you back to Portsmouth any time you want, it’s a Ferry Point at the far end of the island. Before you ask, it’s not big enough to take a cart and the currents are strong and dangerous, that’s why we’ve come the long way round. If you travel a bit lighter next time we’ll take the ferry over, it’ll save us all a good few hours.” Matthew smiled.

“Mostly the island relies on fishing and farming for it’s money, but of course we all supplement out income one way or another,” Matthew winked conspiratorally. Which is where your uncle comes in handy. There’s two churches, St Peters in Northney, not surprisingly at the north end of the island, and St Mary’s in Mengham. We live about half way down the island, in a tavern called the Maypole. We still have the farm too, which Aunt Bessie grew up on and it’s our job to run that while Mum and Dad run the Maypole. Between the five us we are kept pretty busy.”

“Mum plans to invite a few folks over to meet you tomorrow, everyone’s heard you are coming, so it’s best to get these things out of the way. We aren’t much used to strangers on the island, so people are very curious, and it’s better for people to be introduced so people know you are one of us. Just to avoid any Misunderstandings.”

“Misunderstandings?”

“It’s a small community everybody knows everybody and there are no secrets. If there’s a stranger around, people naturally get nervous. But I say it’s good to have fresh blood around.”

“Fresh blood! What do you mean?” Jack cried out in alarm.

Matthew clapped a comforting arm around his shoulder and gave a deep rumbling belly laugh.

“Don’t you be alarmed, we shan’t eat you. Just be prepared to be the centre of attention for the next few weeks, most of us haven’t had anything new to talk about for some time. You’re going to be the talk of the island.” Matthew grinned at Jack.

“Don’t look so worried Jack. Just watch out for Jenny Trumper. She’s been looking for a husband for a long time now, but refuses to leave the island. We’ve all been approached by her Dad, he’s desperate to marry her off, but no-ones brave enough to take her off his hands. It’s a tidy enough dowry mind, but you’ll see why she’s scared off everyone so far when you meet her tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night? Do I have to?”

“’Fraid so Jack. Mum’s arranged to have a few folks come over tomorrow when you’ve got yourself settled in. Best get it over and done with quickly like.”

“Anything else I should know?” enquired Jack.

“I think that’s enough for now. Let’s get John out of this place before he gets settled in for the night. Getting the tide wrong can be an expensive mistake, it’ll mean we’ll be stuck here another twelve hours and by then we’ll be too drunk to find our way home. If we miss this tide we’ll all be for a hiding, even you.”

Soon they had taken their first steps across the Wadeway. To Jack’s surprise it was firm underfoot. John explained that although the way was a natural high point in the creek bed the islanders had used rocks and stones to build a path which was regularly strengthened with fresh shingle. If the way wasn’t regularly maintained it would be lost as the tide was constantly shifting the stones around. Without the causeway the island would be cut off, too much trade depended on the ability get wagons and carts over to the island, so the parish ensured that it was in good order.

“Don’t you all have boats, if you live on an island?”

“We do, but the currents hereabouts are very strong. You are right it would be much quicker to get around by boat and we do, but you have to judge it right. If you get caught in a rip tide you could be miles out to sea in a matter of minutes and no-one would be able to save you.”

Jack glanced across the muddy expanse either side of the causeway. It was hard to imagine a rip tide here, getting stuck in the mud seemed a more likely problem. The mud oozed a green slime which glistened darkly in the moonlight. It was a most uninviting sight. There was an overpowering smell of salt, weed and crab in the air. In places the path was very slippery, it still seemed strange to Jack to think that only a few hours before it had been six feet under water. Jack walked carefully in the darkness, attempting to match John’s steps stride for stride. Matthew followed with the cart, leading the horse by the rein. The causeway was not much wider than the carts wheels and Jack could see that Matthew was concentrating hard to ensure that the horse did not stray too far to the left or right. One false move on the part of the horse would result in a wheel getting stuck in the mud. It would take a mighty heave to get the cart back on the path again and no-one was in a hurry to try.

Jack looked back over his shoulder and was amazed to see the lights of the inn twinkling far behind them. Already they must be mid-channel. There was no light on the far side, so it had been hard for Jack to judge how much distance they had covered. Now he could see the trek would not last more than a few minutes he relaxed and began to enjoy the sensation of walking betwixt the sea and the land. At the front John began to whistle a merry tune, and Matthew joined in. At first Jack struggled to recongise it, although it seemed very familiar. When he did he laughed out loud. It was “Three Blind Mice.” John’s bobbing lantern lit the way a few yards ahead of them, but if it wasn’t for that and the moonlight they would indeed have been as helpless as three blind mice. Once again Jack felt pleased to be in the company of the two brothers. After his misgivings earlier in the day, he now had a good feeling about the island after all.

John’s bobbing lantern halted and Jack caught up with him to find they had reached the end of the causeway.

“Wait on the shore. I’ll give Matthew a hand to get the cart on the track, it’s always tricky the last little bit. Lot’s of pot holes in the path where the swirl of the tide moves the stones around. I’d hate for the whole thing to tip over now that we have made it safe to shore.” Said John.

Soon Matthew and the cart were on the foreshore. John gestured for Jack to jump on the cart again and the three made their way down the track towards Jack’s new home in exile.