'They be going to 'ang me, don't they Tam? They be going to 'ang me . . .'
'No Benjie, they won't hang you, it will be alright, you'll see.'
Closing her arms about the small frightened figure, Tamar Hallam pulled her brother close, one hand holding the fiery red head against her cheek.
He was not yet fourteen. Tears she dared not shed in front of him clogged her throat causing her breathing to be as ragged as that of the boy clinging in terror to her skirts. Not yet fourteen and facing the gallows.
'I didn't kill him Tam, honest . . . and I didn't steal that package . . . I ain't never stole nothin' in my whole life.'
Sobs breaking up the words he buried his face in the rough shawl covering his sister's shoulders.
It had been three days ago they had come for him. Two police constables and Charlie Selby.
Bending her head, touching her face to the spiky hair, Tamar felt the same bewilderment she had felt that night.
Charlie Selby, a man they had known all of their lives, had come to the house and accused Benjie of murder and theft.
'This be 'im, Constable . . .'
Charlie had stepped across the kitchen to where her brother had been sitting and placed a hand on his shoulder. ' . . . this be Benjie 'Allam . . .'
Tamar held her breath against her teeth closing off a sob.
Accused by a friend . . . a hand on the shoulder . . .
The Judas touch!
The words brought a cry of fear from the boy in her arms and Tamar winced against the sting of his fingers biting into the flesh of her back.
'Please?' She whispered to the uniformed man stood watching from the doorway of the tiny windowless room.
'Can't be wench, I've given you more time than I should already; if the inspector should 'appen in then I'd be for it. Sorry wench, I know the young 'un be afeared but rules is rules an' they 'as to be kept.'
Both hands lifting her brother's face Tamar tried to smile, but the terror staring back from red-rimmed eyes swallowed her like some black nightmare.
'I will come back tomorrow Benjie,' she kissed his face gently, 'we will be together again in the morning. Until then I want you to be brave. Do everything the sergeant tells you to do and remember to say your prayers before you go to sleep.'
'I said my prayers.' The hands about her back tightened. 'I said my prayers every night like you taught me, but God don't listen Tam, He don't never listen; He's turned His back just like He did when father died . . .'
'God does not turn His back!' Tamar answered sharply.
'Father died because he was too ill to live any longer, but God did not forsake us, He let us stay together . . .'
'Come along now wench, say your goodnights.'
Eyes sympathetic beneath heavy eyebrows streaked grey as his bushy side whiskers the policeman rattled the keys strung on a ring of brass.
'Don't go Tam!' The frightened cry rang from the walls of the tiny cell. 'Don't leave me, I be feared . . .'
'Shhh!' She kissed his face again. 'Where is my brave brother, the one who protected me at the goose fair when that man tried to grab me?'
The pale face smiled briefly. 'I did see him off, didn't I, Tam?'
'Yes, love.' Tamar answered, her eyes flooding as they gazed at the boy she had mothered the last five years. 'You saw him off, and you will see this off. Remember Benjie, the innocent have nothing to fear, and we both know you are innocent. In a few days it will be over and you will be home again. Now, give me a smile so I can tell the Marshes that you are facing this just as bravely as you faced that man at the fair.'
'You will come?' Quiet as a shadow the words followed as she eased the hands from her body then turned away. 'You promise Tam . . . you promise?'
At the door Tamar glanced back at the thin figure, his father's coat hanging down over his shoulders, the sleeves covering his hands.
'Have I ever let you down, Benjie?'
'No.' His voice trembling he looked at the ground, 'No, you ain't.'
'And I will not let you down now. You have my promise Benjie, I will be here tomorrow just as soon as I am allowed.'
The sound of the key in the lock reverberated along every nerve in her body shaking her like the toll of the church bell that had rung at her father's funeral. It was that sound more than anything else had told her that her father was gone for ever, and now . . . but she would not think the similarity; her brother would not be taken from her.
'You get yourself along 'ome. You need 'ave no fears for 'im.'
Fastening the ring of keys to a broad black leather belt the policeman looked kindly at her. 'I'll be 'ere through the night and I'll keep an eye on the young 'un; a cup of cocoa and a bun will 'elp to settle him to sleep.'
'That is very kind of you. Benjie . . . my brother has never been alone before.'
'Well he won't 'ardly be on his own in this place,' the policeman replied, jerking his head in the direction they had come.
