Page 31 of Lawless (Dauntless Island #2)

NATTY

S aturday nights on Dauntless meant everyone met up in the old church at nightfall and stayed until the food and drinks ran out.

It was a tradition as old as the settlement of the island; it was older than the church.

The church had been built by the British back when they’d tried civilising us a couple of generations after the mutiny.

The attempt hadn’t lasted too long, and at least we’d got a bunch of free buildings out of it.

Ever since we’d chased off the last priest, we’d been using the church as a community hall, which meant that every Saturday night it was full to bursting with Dauntless Islanders, all the food we could carry, and rum and beer and cider from everyone’s backyard stills.

There was no electricity in the church, but Buzzy Pete had rigged some lights up and brought a small generator in every week.

It didn’t take long for everyone to start eating and drinking, and then for the music to begin.

Big Johnny could play the fiddle like nobody’s business, and he wasn’t the only one.

Fiddles, drums, pipes, whistles, harmonicas, guitars—there probably wasn’t a person on Dauntless who didn’t know to make a tune.

Even the littlest kids were given spoons to bash on the backs of bowls to make some noise.

Button John met me and Mum and Nipper Will at the front door of the church. He was clutching a cup of something that smelled like Sarah Hooper’s spiced rum and already wearing his wobbly boots. “Natty! Guess what? The copper’s—oh, heeeey, Will.”

Worst fake casual tone ever.

“The copper’s what?” Nipper Will asked, scowling.

Button John’s eyes were wide as saucers. “He’s here .”

“Why the fuck would you need to tell Natty that?” Nipper Will muttered. “He’s got eyes .” He held Mum gently by the elbow and walked inside with her.

Button John saluted the back of his head, and then turned back to me and shrugged. “Nipper Will seems as cheery as usual.”

“You didn’t have to make a big deal about the copper, you dickhead. You could have just kept your mouth shut.”

“I could have.” Button John slung an arm around my shoulders. “But I’ve already had two rums.”

That certainly explained it. I rolled my eyes, and we went inside.

I tried to pretend I wasn’t looking around for Dominic as I said hello to, well, pretty much everyone.

The church was packed with people lining up with plates in hand.

A couple of little kids were already crashed out under the altar.

The rest of them were outside, playing tag around the old headstones.

There were some dogs running around with them.

There were adults out there too—the church itself was too small to hold everyone at once, and sooner or later everyone would end up outside in the fresh air.

I turned to squeeze between Yellow Sarah Hooper and her husband Round Robbie Hooper, who were talking to Fisher Harry Finch.

“Ah! Boys!” Fisher Harry exclaimed. He was a big man—taller even than Red Joe, and at least twice as broad. He clapped Button John on the back. “What are you up to? Have you seen Little Harry?”

Fisher Harry’s son Little Harry was going out with my cousin Emily. They were usually together.

“Not yet,” Button John said. “If I see him, I’ll tell him to get his pants back on and send him your way!”

Fisher Harry boomed out a laugh, and I looked around to check Big Johnny and Aunt Jane weren’t standing anywhere nearby, because they’d clip Button John around the ear if they heard him talking about his sister like that. And if Emily heard it she’d kick him in the balls.

“Hey!” Button John said. “There’s the copper!”

And before I knew it, he’d caught me by the hand and was dragging me through the press of people towards Dominic.

Dominic wasn’t wearing his uniform. He was wearing faded jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt.

He looked like a regular guy, not a copper.

He looked hot . He was standing with Red Joe and Eddie and Tall Tom.

Tall Tom, his gnarled hands curled around the knob on top of his walking stick, was in the middle of talking about something.

As we drew closer, he drew a rasping breath, sucked on his gums for a moment, and then said, “Well, of course there was one near the radar station, since they wouldn’t have wanted that bombed, but yes, I think there were at least two on the northern side of the island. ”

Eddie’s face lit up. “Mayfair Bay, yes?”

Tall Tom hummed thoughtfully. “Yes, I think it was.”

“What’s in Mayfair Bay?” Button John asked.

“Anti-aircraft gun stations!” Eddie exclaimed.

“I want to do an exhibit on Dauntless during the Second World War, if I can get the funding. I’d love to be able to pinpoint where the gun stations were.

” He was flushed with excitement, and also possibly rum.

“Dominic’s promised to have a look for me, haven’t you, Dominic? ”

“I’ve already had a quick look,” Dominic said. “Do seals bite?”

“Like bastards,” Red Joe said.

I exchanged a look with Button John. Dominic was poking his nose in up around Mayfair Bay? My gut clenched. What if he found out about the cave and decided to check it out? Me and Button John and Young Harry Barnes would all be in the shit then.

Button John opened his mouth.

Cool!” I exclaimed, before he could say anything. “That’s really cool, isn’t it, Button John?” I elbowed him.

“Yep!” He blinked rapidly. “History and... stuff .”

Dominic gave us a suspicious look. So did Red Joe and Eddie. Even Tall Tom did.

“What are you two up to?” Red Joe asked.

“Why does everyone ask that?” Button John asked. “Shouldn’t you be—” He glared at Dominic. “Shouldn’t you be arresting everyone for all this moonshine?”

Dominic raised his cup. “Nobody’s selling it, so it’s none of my business.”

“Oh,” Button John said. “ Really ? It’s not illegal?”

“I think you technically need a licence to make spirits,” Dominic said with a shrug. “But that’s not my department.”

He caught my gaze and smiled slightly, and warmth bloomed in my chest at the realisation he didn’t hate me.

Then a wave of guilt hit me, because his smile was tinged with regret, and that was my fault.

Dominic was here, in the middle of a crowd of Dauntless Islanders; he’d complained so much about being frozen out that this should have been a huge deal for him, a moment of triumph, but it wasn’t.

It wasn’t, because I’d ruined it. And I’d ruined it for nothing , because if he was going looking around Mayfair Bay anyway, he’d discover everything.

“Anyway,” Button John continued blithely, “it’s good to see you here, copper.”

“My name is Dominic.”

“It is !” Button John exclaimed with a smile. “Mine is Button John because I’m as cute as a?—”

“That’s not the reason,” Red Joe said, brows arched.

“Cute. As. A. Button ,” Button John said, poking Red Joe in the chest to emphasise each word.

“He’s had a lot of rum,” I said.

“Been there, done that,” Eddie said with a nod.

I grabbed Button John by the waistband of his shorts and pulled him back. “It is good to see you here though,” I said to Dominic, heat rising on my face. “I’m, um, going to get Button John some water.”

“That seems like a smart idea,” Dominic said, his smile polite this time, like I was some stranger. That stung, but I couldn’t blame him for it.

I steered Button John towards the pews at the front of the church, where all the food and drink was set up.

Someone would have brought an esky keg filled with cold cordial for the little kids, and right now a cup of it had Button John’s name on it.

Except Button John was wrenched from my grasp before we reached the pews.

“What did you say about Little Harry having to put his pants back on when you found us?” Emily demanded.

“Um...” Button John flashed her a smile. “It was a joke?”

Little Harry Finch hovered behind Emily, and we exchanged glances, silently trying to communicate if we needed to pull the siblings apart or not. He chewed worriedly on his bottom lip, showing off his crooked incisor.

“It wasn’t fucking funny!” Emily rolled her eyes. “How bloody drunk are you?”

“I have had two rums,” Button John said, and held up three fingers. He looked at his hand. “What happened to my cup?” He looked at his other hand. “Oh, there it is!”

“I was taking him to get a drink,” I said, and Emily gave me a hard look. “Of cordial, not rum.”

“I’ll take him,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “We need to talk, don’t we, little brother?”

Button John made an unhappy face as Emily dragged him away and Little Harry followed, but I didn’t feel too sorry for him. He’d earned it.

I slipped out one of the side doors of the church and into the cool darkness.

There were a few older headstones here, broken and lying in pieces on the ground.

People didn’t get buried here anymore; the church yard wasn’t big enough for that.

All the newer graves, including my dad’s empty one, were in the middle of the island, surrounded by fields and crops and pine trees, in the sunlight with the sea breeze whispering over them.

The graves down here in the churchyard were over a century old, but in the daylight you could faintly make out the names on the broken headstones.

They were the same names that belonged to the people inside the church now.

From inside, someone started to play the fiddle.

A second fiddle joined it a moment later, and then a flute and drums. It was the music I’d grown up with—folk songs that had come to Dauntless from half a world away under the snapping of sails and the creak of the ropes.

You could still taste the salt in the notes.

I closed my eyes for a moment and listened.

This was Dauntless. This was home . I’d never wanted to be anywhere else, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t allowed to want someone to share it with.