What Family Means
Jul. 11th, 2016 08:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
barefoot_bardTitle: What Family Means
Rating: K+ (Suitable for ages 13 and above)
Disclaimers: All names given in this story are fictional and any relation to actual persons, living or dead, is purely incidental.
Story summary: Hard times strike a small family, with grave consequences. Chatham, 1785/86. Part Three of Three.
Author's Note: Any factual errors that occur within are my own.
"Seven years?"
Polly nodded, her eyes on the brig which had just weighed anchor and was now making its way downriver. "Aye. Sentenced to be transported, too. Beyond the seas, they said. That means Australia, don't it? The very bottom of the world. My God, Tom, I can't even imagine it."
The news drew a frown from her husband. He had heard talk of a new colony to be started in New South Wales, that it was to be populated by convicts, but little else. That Nancy was to be sent there was bad news indeed. "Where's she bein' kept?"
"For now? Maidstone gaol. She's for St Mary's Island soon, though. Dunno when." Polly shivered. "The hulks, Tom. Gaol's one thing, bu the hulks..."
Tom Carter put his arms around her, letting her lean against him. She had perfectly good reason to be horrified. The convict hulks were foul, depressing, miserable places. He'd done a spell or two of duty aboard Prudent in recent months and hated the very idea of it. A couple days of guard was nothing on having to live there, though. It was not something he would ever wish upon as close a relation as Nancy Owens. The hulks were filthy, airless, overcrowded, and dangerous. It had been rare for him and his comrades to sheath their cutlasses when they were aboard. The women convicts were the worst as well, being ready to scrap, spit, bite, or sell their bodies at every opportunity. It was not at all the sort of place to send his sister-in-law.
"D'you know which hulk she's bound for?"
Polly shook her head. "That ain't the sorta thing they'd tell you, is it? But how's it even matter? Once she's out there, she ain't comin' back, is she?"
"Stoppit," he said. "It ain't that bad."
"Ain't it? You've been on them. You gonna say they ain't awful, Godforsaken places?"
She had him there. "Nancy's a tough 'un, though. She'll bear it well 'nuff." This was a half-hearted reassurance at best, however, since Carter did not believe it himself. Christ. He did not want to imagine the fates Nancy might end up suffering on a hulk. She was much too decent a woman to be put through that. It was just... it was just beyond all reason. And for her to be condemned so simply for trying to take her revenge on that bastard Punchy Wright made it all the worse. Had Carter known of her intentions, he would have happily helped. A second crack at Wright was not to be passed up.
"Maybe she is, but it still ain't right she's gonna be sent to one of them floatin' hells. And that's before she goes clean away to the arse end of the world. None of this is right, Tom. None."
It wasn't right, he would readily agree, but there was no changing it. Carter rested his chin on her shoulder and considered. Sentence, once passed, could not be resisted. They knew that. Yet something had to be done. Somehow. Volunteering for duty aboard whichever hulk Nancy was sent to could be done. It was an easy choice for him to make, certainly. Beyond that, however, he could not strike upon a better solution. Well. Helping her escape was an option as well, he supposed. Convicts had successfully run from the hulks before now and not all of them had been recaptured. There was a chance then that it could work. More than that, it was something he was ideally placed to arrange.
"Could let her escape," he suggested presently.
With a snort, Polly stepped away from him so she could swat at his shoulder. "As if that would solve things! She'd end up hunted then, an' that's no sorta life for anyone, never mind my own sister."
"S'jus' an idea, ain't it."
"Aye, well..." She looked over the river one last time, then turned away. She moved off a few steps before turning back. "If they're sendin' convicts away beyond the sea, there's gotta be folk goin' along to guard 'em, rght?"
Naturally. "Right."
"I've heard it's Marines to be sent."
Carter looked at her thoughtfully. It was not hard to fathom her line of thinking. There were indeed rumours flying around the barracks about this very thing. Before today, he hadn't paid too much mind to them, but now... maybe Polly was on to something.
"That's wot some of the lads've been sayin' an' all. Cap'n Pendry ain't told us anyfin' for sure but if they're takin' Marines to be guards, I'll volunteer, won't I?"
"Would you?"
He shook his head, falling into step beside her when she again moved off. "Don't play at bein' coy, Poll. You know this's jus' wot you want me to say."
"But it ain't a bad idea, Tom."
"No, it ain't," he allowed. " 'Cept they ain't likely to let anybody along who's family of a convict, are they? An' Cap'n Pendry knows me an' Nance is related."
"True. But have you told anybody else? Officially, I mean. The captain seems a decent bloke. What're the chances he'll keep quiet?"
He thought about that. The captain had been pretty accommodating throughout this business, but even good officers could have their goodwill pressed too far. Was it fair to ask him to lie about what he knew of this whole mess? Ordinarily, Carter would have no reservations about taking advantage of an officer's kindness but he liked Pendry. But hell, what a thing to get in the way of what needed to be done! He chided himself for being stupid. Pendry was a good officer but Nancy was family. The answer was ridiculously simple.
"It's wurf tryin', anyway. You do know it'll mean bowff of us'll be gone seven years, though. S'a long time, Poll. 'Specially after me bein' away so long in the war."
"I know. I can live with that. It's knowin' my sister's got somebody lookin' out for her that matters."
The more he thought about it, the more he agreed. This was not about him or Polly. This was about Nancy. Anyway, none of this would have happened if he hadn't left George that evening. Going with the convict fleet whenever it sailed was the least he could do. It wouldn't bring George back, of course, but it would ensure that his widow could see home again once her sentence was up.
"I'll 'ave a word wiv the cap'n. Might not come to anyfin' but it's gotta be tried." Carter grinned, a little lopsidedly. "An' if it don't work, I'll jus' help her run."
"If you do that, Thomas Carter, I'll fillet you with your own bayonet."
He chuckled at that and entwined his arm with hers. "Fink I'd enjoy that an' all."
Polly regarded him intently. "In seriousness, Tom. Will you?"
"Aye. Course I will. It's for Nancy, ain't it?"
His wife's only response to that was a nod. It was all the reply he needed. The pair walked slowly along, with nothing more to say. The coming years would be hard for all three of them without a doubt but nothing easy was worth keeping. Carter was resolved not only to volunteer for duty in the hulks but to do whatever he had to in order to sail with the convict fleet. He could do nothing less. This was a family matter, after all, and he had never been one to turn his back on family.
Rating: K+ (Suitable for ages 13 and above)
Disclaimers: All names given in this story are fictional and any relation to actual persons, living or dead, is purely incidental.
Story summary: Hard times strike a small family, with grave consequences. Chatham, 1785/86. Part Three of Three.
Author's Note: Any factual errors that occur within are my own.
"Seven years?"
Polly nodded, her eyes on the brig which had just weighed anchor and was now making its way downriver. "Aye. Sentenced to be transported, too. Beyond the seas, they said. That means Australia, don't it? The very bottom of the world. My God, Tom, I can't even imagine it."
The news drew a frown from her husband. He had heard talk of a new colony to be started in New South Wales, that it was to be populated by convicts, but little else. That Nancy was to be sent there was bad news indeed. "Where's she bein' kept?"
"For now? Maidstone gaol. She's for St Mary's Island soon, though. Dunno when." Polly shivered. "The hulks, Tom. Gaol's one thing, bu the hulks..."
Tom Carter put his arms around her, letting her lean against him. She had perfectly good reason to be horrified. The convict hulks were foul, depressing, miserable places. He'd done a spell or two of duty aboard Prudent in recent months and hated the very idea of it. A couple days of guard was nothing on having to live there, though. It was not something he would ever wish upon as close a relation as Nancy Owens. The hulks were filthy, airless, overcrowded, and dangerous. It had been rare for him and his comrades to sheath their cutlasses when they were aboard. The women convicts were the worst as well, being ready to scrap, spit, bite, or sell their bodies at every opportunity. It was not at all the sort of place to send his sister-in-law.
"D'you know which hulk she's bound for?"
Polly shook her head. "That ain't the sorta thing they'd tell you, is it? But how's it even matter? Once she's out there, she ain't comin' back, is she?"
"Stoppit," he said. "It ain't that bad."
"Ain't it? You've been on them. You gonna say they ain't awful, Godforsaken places?"
She had him there. "Nancy's a tough 'un, though. She'll bear it well 'nuff." This was a half-hearted reassurance at best, however, since Carter did not believe it himself. Christ. He did not want to imagine the fates Nancy might end up suffering on a hulk. She was much too decent a woman to be put through that. It was just... it was just beyond all reason. And for her to be condemned so simply for trying to take her revenge on that bastard Punchy Wright made it all the worse. Had Carter known of her intentions, he would have happily helped. A second crack at Wright was not to be passed up.
"Maybe she is, but it still ain't right she's gonna be sent to one of them floatin' hells. And that's before she goes clean away to the arse end of the world. None of this is right, Tom. None."
It wasn't right, he would readily agree, but there was no changing it. Carter rested his chin on her shoulder and considered. Sentence, once passed, could not be resisted. They knew that. Yet something had to be done. Somehow. Volunteering for duty aboard whichever hulk Nancy was sent to could be done. It was an easy choice for him to make, certainly. Beyond that, however, he could not strike upon a better solution. Well. Helping her escape was an option as well, he supposed. Convicts had successfully run from the hulks before now and not all of them had been recaptured. There was a chance then that it could work. More than that, it was something he was ideally placed to arrange.
"Could let her escape," he suggested presently.
With a snort, Polly stepped away from him so she could swat at his shoulder. "As if that would solve things! She'd end up hunted then, an' that's no sorta life for anyone, never mind my own sister."
"S'jus' an idea, ain't it."
"Aye, well..." She looked over the river one last time, then turned away. She moved off a few steps before turning back. "If they're sendin' convicts away beyond the sea, there's gotta be folk goin' along to guard 'em, rght?"
Naturally. "Right."
"I've heard it's Marines to be sent."
Carter looked at her thoughtfully. It was not hard to fathom her line of thinking. There were indeed rumours flying around the barracks about this very thing. Before today, he hadn't paid too much mind to them, but now... maybe Polly was on to something.
"That's wot some of the lads've been sayin' an' all. Cap'n Pendry ain't told us anyfin' for sure but if they're takin' Marines to be guards, I'll volunteer, won't I?"
"Would you?"
He shook his head, falling into step beside her when she again moved off. "Don't play at bein' coy, Poll. You know this's jus' wot you want me to say."
"But it ain't a bad idea, Tom."
"No, it ain't," he allowed. " 'Cept they ain't likely to let anybody along who's family of a convict, are they? An' Cap'n Pendry knows me an' Nance is related."
"True. But have you told anybody else? Officially, I mean. The captain seems a decent bloke. What're the chances he'll keep quiet?"
He thought about that. The captain had been pretty accommodating throughout this business, but even good officers could have their goodwill pressed too far. Was it fair to ask him to lie about what he knew of this whole mess? Ordinarily, Carter would have no reservations about taking advantage of an officer's kindness but he liked Pendry. But hell, what a thing to get in the way of what needed to be done! He chided himself for being stupid. Pendry was a good officer but Nancy was family. The answer was ridiculously simple.
"It's wurf tryin', anyway. You do know it'll mean bowff of us'll be gone seven years, though. S'a long time, Poll. 'Specially after me bein' away so long in the war."
"I know. I can live with that. It's knowin' my sister's got somebody lookin' out for her that matters."
The more he thought about it, the more he agreed. This was not about him or Polly. This was about Nancy. Anyway, none of this would have happened if he hadn't left George that evening. Going with the convict fleet whenever it sailed was the least he could do. It wouldn't bring George back, of course, but it would ensure that his widow could see home again once her sentence was up.
"I'll 'ave a word wiv the cap'n. Might not come to anyfin' but it's gotta be tried." Carter grinned, a little lopsidedly. "An' if it don't work, I'll jus' help her run."
"If you do that, Thomas Carter, I'll fillet you with your own bayonet."
He chuckled at that and entwined his arm with hers. "Fink I'd enjoy that an' all."
Polly regarded him intently. "In seriousness, Tom. Will you?"
"Aye. Course I will. It's for Nancy, ain't it?"
His wife's only response to that was a nod. It was all the reply he needed. The pair walked slowly along, with nothing more to say. The coming years would be hard for all three of them without a doubt but nothing easy was worth keeping. Carter was resolved not only to volunteer for duty in the hulks but to do whatever he had to in order to sail with the convict fleet. He could do nothing less. This was a family matter, after all, and he had never been one to turn his back on family.