The Corruption of Innocence

Chapter 29

It had been very hard for Alice to run a pub by herself. After each day, when everyone had left, she'd slump down into the nearest chair, normally at the bar, and try to rest. Some of the locals were concerned about her and told her to give the place up, but she refused.

One of the regulars, a teenager called Freddy Taunton, walked into the pub in the black of night. Alice was once again slumped over the bar, back to him, her head in her hands.

"Alice."

She turned around slowly, and when she caught sight of him, smiled slightly. It seemed she had not noticed the strange circumstances; Freddy coming into the pub at that time of night, and the worry on his face.

"Have you heard, Alice?"

"What?" the girl asked, sitting up as he came over to her. Freddy paused, not speaking, and Alice, now concerned, urged him to tell her what was going on.

"Jack's location has been exposed," Freddy said slowly, almost wearily. His weariness vanished as Alice's reaction made him jump. She shot up her head, eyes too large for her face as she stared at him.

"What? How?"

"I don't know. Rumours have been going around."

"What do they say?"

Even though no one was there, Freddy spoke quietly. "He lives at Chavenage Manor in Beverston." Seeing Alice's mouth widen, he asked her if it was true. She did not reply.

She was gone out of the door.

"Mother! Mother!"

Jennet's eyes opened slowly and moved to her daughter, Mary, who was knelt over her, hands on her arm.

"What is it?"

"There's men in the house. Come quick."

George Smith and his younger brother Alexander stood in the entrance hallway of Chavenage Manor, looking at each other often, and otherwise looking around them.

Their hungry eyes fell on a little boy who was watching them from the stairs. Seconds later, a woman and a girl came clamouring down the stairs, shouting at the boy to go to them. Instead, he stepped towards the men who beckoned him. One grew impatient and grabbed hold of him, covering his mouth so he couldn't scream. On the stairs, they were far enough away from the men that Jennet could whisper to her daughter.

"Go and get Uncle James, Mary."

"Mother, no!"

"Go now through your bedroom window. You know why they are here. Go quickly or we will all be dead. Please Mary, do it for your brother."

Tears in her eyes, Mary Preston sprinted back up the stairs with such speed the Smith brothers didn't even have time to think about catching her. If they had tried, Jennet would have been in their way. She stood tall on the stairs, the only thing between them and Jack Edgar.

"Where is he?" George growled. She did not reply. The man glanced at his brother and nodded. Alexander Smith, holding Jennet's seven-year-old son Christopher, pulled out a knife. Jennet flinched.

"Tell us where he is and we'll let the boy go," Henry's uncle told her. She shook her head swiftly, frozen to the spot.

"The world has gone mad. You would put a murderer before your own son?" George asked, and Jennet could not shake off guilt and defeat. She remained stood there, knowing she would never move unless she had no choice but to.

"You have lost a child. You would not kill one," she said.

"The son of a bitch, yes," George replied in a chillingly calm voice. "You protect that piece of shit and do not even feel guilty. If God believes the death of your child and your death is the only way to save society from Satan incarnate, he will let it be."