Read Across the Sands of Time for Free Online

I’ve reason to believe he’s involved with the moonlighters.’
    There, it was said. The fear that had possessed her ever since she had discovered the mysterious haul in the cellar was now shared. Knowing the serious nature of her suspicions, Polly was unprepared for the wry smile that came to John’s lips.
    â€˜Oh, Polly, my sweet innocent,’ he said. ‘You’d be surprised how many Parkgate folk have a finger in that particular pie! I see much of what goes on when I’m out on the boat. There’s been a marked increase in contraband activity ever since the Custom House and the Watch Tower ceased to operate. People think they are safe.’
    â€˜And are they?’

    â€˜Not as such, there’s always the risk of discovery.’ His hands held her shoulders as he turned her towards him. ‘Polly, you must have a care. For your own good you’d be wise to turn a blind eye to what goes on. If ever it came to official ears that your father was involved and you were questioned, you could then answer with all honesty that you know nothing.’
    â€˜But Da would be in serious trouble. It would kill my mother.’
    Touched as she was that John thought enough of her to bestow the warning, Polly wanted further proof that her father was involved.
    The pile of unaccounted-for goods she had inadvertently stumbled across preyed on her mind. Polly wanted to establish how they arrived in the cellar and where they were going.
    â€˜The tide’s on the turn,’ John said. ‘I shall have to see to the nets. Take care, Polly. Remember what I said.’
    His lips came down lingeringly on hers. He tore himself away and went loping off along the quayside to where his fishing boat was moored. Polly was reflective as she made her way back to the tavern.
    When she entered the kitchen however, all thoughts of contraband fled. Her mother was bent over a pail of root vegetables she had been peeling, her hand to her brow, her face ashen.
    â€˜Mother!’ Polly darted to her side. ‘What is it? Are you ill?’
    â€˜It’s nothing, Polly love.’ Marion Dakin made a visible effort to pull herself together. ‘I came over a little faint, that is all.’
    â€˜You must go and rest. Never mind the evening meal. I’ll see to it. Here, let me help you upstairs.’
    Polly helped her mother to bed and made her comfortable, then hastened back to the kitchen to pick up where Marion had left off. Voices and spontaneous bursts of laughter issued from the tap-room where the overnight boarders were gathered.
    Glancing up, Polly then swung the stock pot over the fire. It was going to be a long evening….
    Midnight had struck before she had finished. Wearily, Polly put the gruel to steep for the morning and dragged herself off to her room under the eaves. She was drifting into sleep when the sound
she most dreaded brought her abruptly back to consciousness – the creak of the trapdoor to the cellar below being opened.
    Getting up, Polly flung her shawl around her shoulders and crept down the steep wooden stairs, keeping to the shadow of the wall. Sure enough, in the lobby below, her father and two burly seamen were stowing away a shipment of goods.
    There was a murmured exchange of words, a furtive handing over of money, and the men melted silently away into the night. Before Wallace Dakin could ascend the stairs Polly had darted off back to her room.
    Her heart was thumping in her throat. So her suspicions had been correct. Her father was involved with contraband.
    The enormity of it drove all prospect of sleep from her head. Wallace Dakin was not renowned for his discretion, especially when in his cups. One slip, and everything would be lost.…
    The next morning, Polly, heavy-eyed from lack of sleep, sought out her brother and told him what she had seen.
    â€˜Da’s making a few pennies on the side?’ Edward simply grinned, his tawny eyes dancing.