One of Us Buried by Johanna Craven (year 2 reading books TXT) 📕

“Why would you kill Brady?”

“Because you were struggling with him. He was going to shoot you.”

She is lying. I remember the feel of my finger on the trigger. Don’t I?

“How did you kill him?” I ask.

“With the gun I stole from Patrick. The one I kept in Willie’s basket. I took it with me everywhere.”

I shake my head. “Owen would have killed you for it.”

“For harming Brady?” She lets out a cold laugh. “Patrick don’t care what happens to anyone but himself. All he cares about is his revenge.”

I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold. “What about Willie?” I ask. “What is he to do without you, if—”

I stop speaking as Lottie shakes her head. And then her tears come. “The fever,” she says, “he couldn’t fight it off. He was too weak. Too small.”

I let out my breath, pulling her into me “I’m sorry,” I cough. “I’m so sorry.” She feels limp and fragile in my arms, as though all the fight has drained out of her. After a moment, I sit back, trying to find her eyes. “Is that why you’re doing this? Because you lost Willie?”

She winds her bootlace listlessly around her finger. I hear the guard’s footsteps thud back and forth outside the door.

“The whole of it was my fault,” she says after a while. “I was the one who brought Patrick to the house. I thought if I led him to Blackwell he might see I was worth something. See I was of use.” She swipes at her tears. “I thought he might take me and Willie back to the farm. For good this time. Not just for the night. I thought we could make another go of things. Be a family.”

My throat tightens, my own tears threatening. I want to feel anger, but all I feel is sorrow.

“Where is Blackwell?” I dare to ask.

Lottie sniffs. “I don’t know. After Dan… was killed, Patrick broke into the house looking for the lieutenant. He came back with his coat. Said the whole place was empty. He was furious about it.”

“You’ve not seen Blackwell since?”

She shakes her head.

My thoughts race. And they go to a tiny hut near Squires’ inn where Patrick Owen’s family had died.

Has Blackwell been driven there by the ghosts he is haunted by? The ghosts he refuses to speak of?

I want to go to him. But I don’t want to leave Lottie.

“Was it Owen’s idea to do what he did to the body? To make me think it were Blackwell?”

Lottie nods faintly. “He took the coat from Blackwell’s room. Defaced Dan’s body so you’d think…” She coughs down her tears. “That was it for me, Nell. When I saw him do that to Dan… His friend… Just to punish you for prying into our business… I couldn’t have nothing more to do with him.”

I swallow hard. Her realisation has come far too late.

“I asked him why he killed Maggie,” Lottie says suddenly.

For a moment I don’t speak. “I thought you believed him innocent.”

“That’s what I needed to believe.”

I nod slowly. I understand, of course. How many times had I told myself Blackwell had not pulled the trigger on Owen’s family? In the end, the truth had not mattered for me. But I knew it mattered to Lottie.

“He was my way out of the factory,” she says, looking at her hands. “I couldn’t have managed three more years of weaving cloth and lying with old Bert. I had to get out. You must think me such a fool.”

I shake my head faintly. “I understand,” I say. “I know you don’t believe it, but I do. I know how desperate the factory can make you.”

Lottie wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “Phil Cunningham was the leader of the croppies before they rose up at Castle Hill,” she told me. “He’d come to Parramatta sometimes and drink with us at the river. Tell us of how things would be different after the Irish were in charge. We all believed him. He gave us hope. There weren’t one of us who thought things would end like they did. There weren’t one of us who thought Phil wouldn’t come back that day.” She stares blankly ahead, her eyes glazed.

“After Castle Hill, Patrick took his place. Tried to keep our spirits high. I was so taken by him, Nell. I was drawn to him right from the day I first met him. But he were a different kind of man to Phil. He weren’t interested in freedom. Not once did he ever try and rouse the croppies to rise up again. He were only interested in revenge. In making Blackwell pay for what he did to his family.

“I’d convinced myself it were the savages that killed Maggie,” she says. “But after I saw Patrick do what he did to Dan’s body… I weren’t so sure.” She turns to face me then, her eyes round and glistening. “He couldn’t even find a reason. Just told me she had it coming.” She takes a deep breath. “I know that being Irish makes him feel weak. Powerless. He needs to prove how strong he is.”

A knot tightens in my stomach. Killing a mere factory lass will not have given Owen the power he craves. That will only come with killing Blackwell.

“Does he know you’ve turned yourself in?” I ask.

Lottie shakes her head, tears sliding down her cheeks. “The day Dan died,” she says, “Patrick sent me back to the Rocks. But I didn’t go. I went to his farmhouse and I stood there with his pistol in my hand.” She looks me in the eye. “I wanted to do it, Nell. I wanted to break back into the house and kill him. Retribution for