News from France

The days passed by in a blur of activity. Jack wasn’t sure if it was a deliberate plan to keep him busy, or if life on the island was always like this. He didn’t like to ask, in case it was the latter, in which case he really had been spoilt in the city. Increasingly familiar faces appeared around every corner, in the bar, out in the fields, fishing on the beach, at church on Sundays. Jack was quickly accepted into the community as one of their own and wherever he went a friendly wave would greet him. Mrs Goody kept up a constant stream of messages so he didn’t feel abandoned and any news he had from home was quickly passed on, sometimes so fast that he would start to tell his news only to find out that the listener already knew it. His skin became tanned from all the days working in the field, his face was freckled and the muscles on his arms, once they stopped aching, were firm and hard. Each night he slept the deepest of slumbers.

Eve had been carefully watching Jack for signs that he was missing home, but there really were none. She had asked the boys to keep him busy, she was sure hard work would keep any gloominess at bay and her plan was definitely working. She could have sworn he had even grown a couple of inches; there was no denying it, life in the country suited him. Although Bessie’s messages had been frequent, Jack’s answers had been less so. Fortunately Eve had the foresight to send letters of her own, but a lifetime of care and worry could not be distilled into a few short words and after a month Mrs Goody persuaded her husband that it was time to pay a visit.

The quickest way to Hayling was by boat from the eastern most point of Portsea Island. As long as you navigated the current and the rip tide correctly the crossing was just ten minutes. Or, if you got the tide wrong, you could be out to sea and on your way to France. Robert thought he had persuaded Betty not to bring too much with them, but as the cart left the house he counted at least four bags filled with gifts and “necessaries” for Jack and the family.

“So what’s in all these bags then Bessie?” he asked attempting to sound nonchalant, but actually sounding rather gruff.

Bessie smiled and neutralised the problem, “Oh you know, bits and pieces for Eve and the boys. Don’t you worry, them bags are as light as a feather, I shan’t be sinking the boat if that’s what’s worrying you!”

As the horse and cart trotted towards Eastney in the sunshine, Robert visibly began to relax and enjoy the change of scene. Since Jack had gone, Bessie had tried to keep herself busy, but there really was not enough to do. Without a family to look after Bessie was lost. Robert had made an effort to keep his trips as short as possible but he realised Bessie needed company other than his own and this visit had not come a moment to soon for either of them.

Houses soon gave way to fields and trees. The road became a pot-hole filled rut and Robert had to concentrate hard to avoid getting a wheel stuck in one of the deeper ruts. Bessie kept up a constant stream of chatter, which Robert listened to with half an ear, dropping an occasional “oh” or Argh, right” in midstream, just in case Bessie noticed he wasn’t listening. Over the years the two of them had perfected the art of the one-sided conversation and it was only occasionally when Bessie had said something that Robert really should have listened to that they ever got into difficulties. As he drove along he fondly remembered the day that Bessie had come home with Jack. If he had been listening properly then, he was pretty sure he would have told Bessie that they couldn’t keep the boy. But luckily for both of them, he hadn’t been listening and now fifteen years later, he had no regrets. He turned to his wife and smiled, Bessie beamed back, so happy to be on her way to see her boy, that nothing could spoil her day. Robert reached out and grasped Bessie’s hand, Bessie clasped his hand between hers, no words passed between them. None were needed. Robert nodded, took his hand back and then gave the horse a quick flick of the reins as he realised that it had taken advantage of his momentary loss of concentration and had stopped to eat some grass on the verge.

Once at the shore Robert stopped the cart at the point where the channel between Hayling and Portsea was at its narrowest. The farther shore was just a hundred yards away, sand dunes rippled down towards the sea and in the distance a smudge of green trees and wood smoke drifted lazily across the horizon.

“Wait here, I’ll go and see if I can find the boys.”

Bessie nodded, her eyes already scanning the distant shoreline for signs of life. Robert strode down to the waters edge. Just off the farther shore he spotted a boat at anchor and two figures fishing. He guessed that the boys were making good use of their time and smiled to himself. Robert whistled as loudly as he could and waved his arms. The sound must have carried far enough for the boys, to hear as both figures turned, one stood up in the boat and hailed him back. It was Jack. Immediately the boys hauled in their lines, got themselves settled into the rowing position and headed across the water. The timing of the crossing had been planned for low tide just before the tide was turning and the water was at it’s slackest. The two boys made swift progress even though the boat appeared to lay quite low in the water. Within ten minutes they had landed, Jack and John jumped onto the shore and Robert helped them pull the boat onto the shingle. Bessie was still on the cart waiting and noticed that the boat seemed to be full of cargo. Jack and John threw off the tarpaulin and Bessie spotted a number of small barrels lying in the bottom of the boat.

“Rum, of course, I should have known.” smiled Bessie to herself. Robert had agreed to the trip very readily. Now it all made sense.

The boys carried two barrels each the short distance to the waiting cart. Jack carefully put his barrels down by the horse and then went to help Bessie get down. He was grinning madly.

“Hello there, it’s so very good to see you.”

Bessie’s heart was so full it felt that it might burst.

“Jack, my boy, look at you!” she exclaimed.

“What do you mean?” Jack asked.

“My how you’ve grown!”

Bessie could barely contain her surprise at the change in Jack. A month didn’t seem long enough to have wrought such changes in him. He looked so healthy, Bessie was almost disappointed, clearly he was thriving under Eve’s care. Of course that was a good thing, but still it is good to be missed. A moment later the pang of disappointment passed. Jack gave Bessie a huge hug, and as she ruffled his curly locks, she realised she was glad he was safe and well.

Almost unnoticed Little John had also got to the cart and had loaded both his barrels and Jack’s onto the cart. Then grabbing two of the bags which Bessie had brought with her he headed back to the rowing boat. By the time Jack and Bessie had stopped talking John had emptied the boat of the remaining barrels, installed them safely in the cart and loaded Bessie’s bags into the boat. Robert had remained with the boat, just in case it slipped back into the water.

John clapped an arm round Jack’s shoulders. “Come on young man, I’ve got business to attend to.”

Jack stepped back, gave John a sheepish smile. John gave his aunt a quick kiss on the cheek and jumped onto the cart.

“See you back at home tomorrow. Tonight I’m going courting!” John and Jack exchanged huge grins, John flicked the horse with the reins and began the journey back to his aunt and uncle’s house. He was very much looking forward to spending a night without his family and intended to make the most of it. Jack and Bessie made their way down to the boat.

“So I see you made good use of our little trip.”

“Bessie my love, it just made so much sense. This way we get someone to take the cart back for us, Albert gets his rum delivery and John, well John’s happy to do it!” Robert could see that Bessie was not in the mood to argue the point.

Bessie nodded her head. Her point had been made and now they could get on with their little trip. Bessie got into the boat, Robert and Jack pushed the boat back into the water, Robert jumped in first, and Jack followed soon after. His feet had got a little wet, but it felt pleasant in the sunshine. Jack and Robert took an oar each and soon they were on the island’s shore. Jack jumped out and pulled the boat on the sand. It was much easier on this side as there was no shingle to worry about. Soon the boat had been unloaded, Robert went to fetch the horse and cart which had been tethered to a railing beyond the sand dunes where a sandy track could be discerned. Jack rowed the boat back to a buoy on the edge of the channel, tied it up, then jumped over the side and waded to the shore. Jack picked up Bessie’s bags, which as she had said were quite light, carried them up to the cart and soon the three of them were on their way to the Maypole.

The track from the ferry was a lonely path with marshland on one side and windswept dunes on the other. There were no houses until they reached Sinah Warren where a large and impressive house sprawled along the shore line, with outhouses, stables and all the tools necessary to support a life lived off the land. After that there was an expanse of gorse heath on either side, and no more houses until they got to the next hamlet at West Town. As the sun shone down, a balmy breeze blew in from the sea. The horse’s hooves trotted rhythmically along the path, and Bessie continued her gentle probing of Jack’s activities over the past few weeks. Jack’s responses all seemed to be positive received by Bessie and Robert took the opportunity to take in the scenery around him. He wouldn’t say he knew the island well. He’d come to visit for the first time when he was courting Bessie and since then he’d got to know some parts relatively well, but the track from Ferry Point was not one had he taken often.

In all there were just 500 souls living on an island the same size as Portsmouth and Portsea combined, only they had a population of 32,000. Of the five hundred, Bessie was probably related to half. It was not a surprise to anyone that John should feel the need to go courting in Portsmouth, marrying your cousin though very common, was not always the most popular choice among the young men of the island.

An hour later the three travellers arrived at the Inn. Jack jumped down and helped his aunt and uncle to descend from the cart, then he led the horse into the yard and unloaded the bags. Bessie and Robert saved themselves a few minutes and entered through the public bar at the side of the Maypole. It took a moment to adjust their eyes to the dimness of the interior after the glaring sun outside. Before either of them had really got their bearings there was a shout and a crashing sound from the bar .

“Uncle, Aunt! You’re here! Mum, Dad, they’ve arrived.” yelled Mark

More shouting quickly followed and footsteps came racing down the hallway towards the bar. A door banged open, and two burly men struggled to push their way through the door. Quickly they realised they would have to go one at a time and the slightly older of the two deferred to the younger. Meanwhile Mark had stepped out from behind the bar and rushed over to crush his aunt in a bear hug. He released his aunt just in time for his two brothers to take their turn to do the same, and stepped back to give his uncle a friendly handshake, clapping one arm around Robert’s broad shoulders as he did so. Few men made Robert Goody look small, but surrounded by his three nephews Robert looked positively puny.

Robert grinned broadly at the enthusiastic welcome from his wife’s family. It really was a tonic just to be in the room with them. No wonder Jack looked so well.

Almost unnoticed amongst the noise, Eve entered the room followed almost immediately by Jack. Eve smiled over at Bessie who had just escaped the clutches of the three boys and had begun to breathe again. Bessie saw Eve from the corner of her eye. It had been a few years since they had last seen each other, but Eve still looked as fresh and pretty as a newly plucked rose.

“Eve, dear sister. Whatever have you been feeding these boys of yours! They are giants, and I think my poor Jack is trying desperately to catch them up!”

Eve gave Bessie a warm and welcoming hug,

“Hello, Bessie. You have a fine young man here, it’s been a pleasure having Jack around the house. I’m afraid I can’t explain what’s happened to my boys, they were lovely once. I suspect a little too much fresh and exercise, followed by an endlessly hearty appetite has led to the monsters you see before you.”

“Hello Robert, good to see you. John is still over at the church, he said if you got here before him, it would be worth your while popping down to see him as he had something he wanted to show you. Take Nelly, she’s all ready to go and tied to the apple tree in the yard,”

“Thanks Eve, I will. You are looking as lovely as ever. My brother-in-law is a very lucky man, and he knows it. Thank you so much for your care of Jack. It’s been a huge relief to us both.”

Robert made his way out of the bar, Eve led Jack and Bessie over to a sunlit table by the window. Mark, Matthew and Luke went behind the bar and returned with glasses brimming with ale for themselves and Jack and two glasses of port for the ladies.

Bessie accepted her drink from Mark and went back to her conversation with Eve. It was clear that she had a lot of catching up on gossip and had no intention of waiting a moment longer.

“Aunt Bessie I don’t think you’ve heard the full story about Jack’s welcome night on the island. Mum seems to have missed out some of the juicy bits.” giggled Luke.

“Now, there’s no need for that, I’m sure she’s really not interested.” insisted Jack.

“Oh, I think you may find I am. Try me Luke.” replied Bessie, immediately intrigued by the suggestion.

Well we invited a number of people to come and meet Jack, get the introductions out of the way, so he didn’t feel too much of a stranger. Everything was going very well, it was a jolly sort of an evening, when Jenny Trumper asked Mrs Spragg to give her a chance to get acquainted. Mrs Spragg has always played on her deafness and pretended not to hear and continued talking to Jack only a little louder. So then Jenny tapped Mrs Spragg on the shoulder,

“Excuse me, I think you’ll find it’s my turn now.”

Mrs Spragg turned round to Jenny and said really loudly.

“Now then dearie, we all know there really isn’t any point. Jack has good prospects and comes from a nice family, why would he be interested in meeting with you?”

Unfortunately the whole pub heard her say this, Jenny went scarlet and burst into tears.

Her father came running over to see what the fuss was about. Jack was standing there looking like he wanted the earth to swallow him up and Mrs Spragg was calmly taking another sip from her port and lemon. Unfortunately Mr Trumper got the wrong idea and thought Jack had offended his beloved Jenny and was just about to thump him, so Luke and I had to grab Mr Trumper and take him over to the other side of the pub and explain what had really happened. Poor Jenny was even more mortified by her father’s behaviour, and ran outside. Jack, appalled at what had happened, decided he should go and comfort her. So he went outside to see if she was all right. Jenny had tears streaming down her face, which was an angry red sort of colour. Jack put his arm round jenny, and said,

“I’m really sorry she was so rude to you. Of course, I would love to meet you.”

“Oh my, what a mistake. We really should have warned him better. Now the poor thing is being trailed all over the island by a love-struck Jenny, convinced that Jack is the one for her. Unfortunately she has interpreted his chivalry as a declaration of love, and he is being stalked at every turn!”

“Oh, Jack is this really true?” Bessie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The story was so funny, but she had a horrible feeling that right now, Jack could not see the funny side.

“Yes, it’s true, she really is impossible to avoid. She keeps popping up wherever I go. Church, here, even the beaches and the fields aren’t safe!”

Bessie stifled a laugh, and dabbed a tear from her eye.

“Oh, your poor boy. Well luckily, I know just the thing to cheer you up, here’s a letter from France.”

And with that Bessie pulled a letter out from her apron pocket. The letter was a little battered, with a large red seal on the back to show that it had not been opened, and was addressed to Mrs Goody in neat copperplate handwriting. Bessie encouraged Jack to open it,

“Without you around there wasn’t anyone else I wanted to open it for me, so I decided the best thing was to come and pay you a visit.”

Jack ripped open the seal and began to read the letter out loud for all to hear. He wasn’t expecting anything private to be disclosed.

My Dear Madame Goody,

I hope this letter finds you and your family well. Unfortunately here things ‘ave not gone well for us. The war with the revolutionaries continues to plague us, supplies are low and all the young men have left to fight. My dear brother Jacques joined the Chouans to and was fighting alongside the English at Granville, but in the retreat he was badly wounded and captured by Napoleon’s men. He managed to escape and with help from some friends made his way back to Brittany by boat, but now it is not safe for him at home. They are searching all the villages looking for “traitors to the revolutionary cause”.

Please, I beg of you that Georges and I can come and stay with you until this terrible time has passed. My father will to stay in Brittany as long as he can to ensure that our home is not burnt to the ground, and I pray he is too old for them to think he is worth making an example of. These are dreadful times and we are all in fear of what revenge Napoleon will take. We have heard tales from the Vendee and if they are true it is almost too terrible to believe.

We shall leave in a few days time, I hope by then Georges is well enough to make the journey.

Amities,

Delphine Quimbereque