Starting on Thursday, 30th November, and for five days, Anita’s family adventure drama Let it Go, will be free on Amazon…
For some reason this book has always been the black sheep on our book list, so it has to be time to show it some love, don’t you think?
Amazon Universal Link: (but not until Thursday!) myBook.to/LetGo
Ruth whispered for me to be still, she had only come to make sure those darn fools didn’t harm Martha. From the way the men were waving their lighted torches around, it didn’t seem as though they only meant to scare her. Martha was awake now and I could see her face. Her cheeks billowed and sank with each frightened scream that backed up against the filthy rag in her mouth. Dark eyes shone like coal in the moonlight, filled with fear, pleading for her unborn child.
Ruth pointed a gnarled finger at the scene below, saying Martha was in labour. Said she would have to go down and see what she could do about putting a stop to it.
I watched as she stumbled and fell on her short legs, rolled over and managed to get herself down to the cove. She was about two feet away from the wheel when the men turned on her; the flames from their torches lighting her face red, like blood. As Ruth stepped forward, the rush of silence almost hurt my ears. Sam stepped in time with her, saying she had no business there. Ruth looked him square in the face, saying her business was the baby about to be born. Couldn’t they see the woman was in labour?
Sam spun around to Kenny in horror. As he did, his torch fell from his hand, not caring where it landed. Ruth tried to kick the torch away from the wheel where Martha lay, but the flames bit into the fish oil and crept around the wheel, taking hold before Ruth could free her. The baby was coming fast and the men fled. As Ruth cut through the ropes one by one, Martha pulled the gag from her mouth and her scream tore at my heart. She knew Ruth was trying to save her and the baby, but they were the screams of someone who knows she is dying and giving birth at the same time.
No words can tell how the sound of those screams hurt. Ruth’s hair and clothes had caught alight from the dancing flames. The knife she used to cut the ropes must be hot in her hand, but still she tried in vain to set Martha free.
The flames had nearly completed the circle, but she was able to tear with her knife at Martha’s undergarments. One last scream and the child lay in Ruth’s arms. Somehow, as though sleepwalking, I had made my way down to Ruth and I gave her my coat to wrap the baby. She would need help to bring him up, at least until the burns on her face and arms had healed. She asked me to stay with her and say nothing of what happened that night. They wouldn’t want this child in the village, and I knew how that felt.
I had no words; there were none available to me. I barely managed to nod my head, seeing clearly the flames had completed the circle and were burning fiercely. Martha was not moving.”
I closed the diary slowly, hardly believing what I had read. It couldn’t be real; people didn’t do this kind of thing. Even years ago, we were more civilised than that. At least I thought we were. Maybe it was Morgan’s attempt at fiction.
Touching the soft leather cover of the diary, I wondered why I had found it. If it was a true story, what could I do about it now? I decided to finish reading it; maybe the story resolved itself.