Free Come the Fear by Chris Nickson

He leaned against the door jamb, half in the shadows.
    â€˜I like her, she has a spark.’
    â€˜She does,’ Rob agreed with a broad smile.
    â€˜How long has it been now?’
    â€˜Eight months, father,’ he replied. ‘As I’m sure you know full well.’
    Lister nodded slowly. ‘I just wanted to be certain.’ He raised his head. ‘It’s long enough to be serious.’
    â€˜Yes, it is.’
    â€˜What about the girl?’
    â€˜How do you mean?’ Rob asked.
    James Lister spread his hands in exasperation. ‘Are you just a way to fill her time or is she in love with you?’
    â€˜She’s told me she loves me.’
    Lister raised his eyebrows. ‘And I suppose you’ve said the same to her?’
    â€˜I have,’ Rob admitted, feeling himself redden.
    â€˜They’re not idle words, I take it?’
    â€˜No,’ Rob replied fiercely. ‘Of course not.’
    Lister stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘You know there were rumours about her a year and a half or so back? People said she was running wild.’
    â€˜She told me all about it,’ Rob said, an edge in his voice. ‘But there was never anything improper.’
    Lister removed his spectacles and polished them with his kerchief. ‘Has there been with you?’ he asked.
    â€˜No, there hasn’t.’ Rob paused. ‘Why are you asking me all this, anyway, father?’
    â€˜Because I don’t want you coming home one day and announcing you’re betrothed to the girl, that’s all,’ he said, his voice firm as iron.
    Rob bristled. ‘Why not? I love her, so does Mother – you just said that you like her yourself.’
    Lister shook his head as if his son was stupid.
    â€˜Liking’s fine, loving’s fine, I suppose,’ he said, ‘but she’s not a girl for you to marry.’
    â€˜I thought you respected Mr Nottingham. You recommended me to him for a job.’
    â€˜He’s a good enough Constable,’ Lister acknowledged. ‘And he can be fine company at times. But he’s not the right class socially.’ All the pleasantry had gone from his voice. ‘Tell me, what do you know about your Constable? About his past, I mean.’
    â€˜Nothing, really,’ Rob admitted. ‘I’ve never felt the need. I know there was money when he was young, but it went and he lived as best he could.’
    â€˜His father was a wool merchant – quite middling, the wife brought all the money to the marriage,’ his father explained. ‘He discovered she was having an affair and threw her and their son out. She had to make her living as a whore while the lad begged and stole.’
    Rob stayed silent, staring at his father. He’d heard hints of the story, nothing more. But the Richard Nottingham he knew was the Constable, an excellent one, too, a man he admired, that he’d learned from.
    â€˜I don’t see how that affects Emily,’ he said, concentrating on keeping his voice under control.
    Lister snorted. ‘I’d hoped you’d managed to acquire a bit of common sense by now, Robert. We’re a respectable family. We have a long line, we have some money, we’re not scrabbling in the dirt for our pennies. We have a reputation. I won’t have my son marrying the granddaughter of a whore.’
    â€˜So the Constable’s daughter isn’t good enough for your son?’
    â€˜No, she’s not,’ Lister answered sharply. ‘You see how her father dresses; the man might as well be wearing rags. And the girl? She works, she teaches.’
    â€˜What are you saying I should do?’ Rob asked. Anger was growing inside him, but he kept it carefully tamped down, his fists clenched tight at his sides, nails digging into his palms.
    â€˜Drop her. Or keep on walking out with her if you want. Bed the bitch if you can, if she’s slut enough. I don’t really