Read Elm Tree Road Online

Authors: Anna Jacobs

Elm Tree Road (14 page)

BOOK: Elm Tree Road
11.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

As she stepped across the threshold into the bright sunshine, Nell felt a sudden stab of nerves, then told herself not to be silly. This was what she wanted … needed …
had 
to do
, to prove she was worthy of being alive when others were dead. She couldn’t explain it any better than that, even to herself.

She forced a smile as she submitted to sudden extra hugs, then set off at a smart pace down the road, not looking back.

 

Frank knocked on the front door of the minister’s house at eight o’clock in the morning. He didn’t intend to give
her
time to go out.

Mr Garrett opened the door and looked at him blankly.

‘I’m Frank Greenhill. I came up for my cousin’s funeral. Can I see Cliff’s wife, please?’

‘Oh yes, I remember. But don’t you live in Swindon?’

‘What’s that to do with anything? I came to see Cliff’s wife.’

‘Nell’s not here.’

‘This early? Where’s she gone? It’s important I see her. Family business.’

Mr Garrett hesitated, then said, ‘Come in. We had a letter from her yesterday. She’s in Manchester. Or at least, she was in Manchester. I’m not sure if she’s still there.’

By the time he’d explained what Nell was planning to do, Frank was feeling furious. He kept his anger hidden.

‘Could you give me the address of these ladies, please? It’s Cliff’s parents, you see. They’re in a right old state and they need to see her.’

Mr Garrett hesitated, then wrote down the address on a piece of paper.

Frank went straight to the railway station. He couldn’t
believe that two women could be so stupid as to go off hiking like men. And then tell others to do the same. Women’s place was in the home, looking after their husbands and children.

He’d make sure Nell gave up the idea. Hiking! Of all the stupid things!

It just went to prove that she wasn’t fit to handle so much money.

 

Sticking to the plans Joanna had helped her make, Nell started her travels by taking a bus into the city centre, from which she had to get a train out to Cheadle.

To her horror, in the railway station she saw Frank Greenhill. At first she thought she was mistaken, but no, it was him. He had an angry look on his face. What was he doing back in Lancashire? She slipped behind a kiosk, but kept an eye on him.

He was obviously asking directions. He went to wait at the bus stop, and though it was risky to keep watching him, she had to see him leave. She was dismayed to see him get on a bus out to Joanna’s area. He must be looking for her. Why?

And then she realised why. The insurance money. Somehow he’d found out about it. Well, the Greenhills weren’t getting any of it. It was her security, her way of making a new life for herself.

She watched Frank get on a bus, and after it had pulled away, she went to find out about the next train to Cheadle. She kept an eye on the other passengers getting on to the train, and not until it pulled out of the station did she relax. She’d got away. He’d not find her now. She’d make sure of that.

When she got off the train, she stood in the entrance to the small station, trying to get her bearings. Two other passengers pushed past her, not caring who she was. But when a woman with two small children looked at her as if envying her freedom, it somehow gave Nell the courage to ask directions from her.

She followed these and was soon into the open countryside, not hurrying, taking time to stop and look round. She was pleased with the comfort of the boots, relieved to be on her way, terrified … all at the same time.

But surely there was no way Frank could follow her from now on? Especially if she didn’t take a direct route. Or if she changed her destination.

At the next crossroads, she left the main road, turning down a lane. After walking for two hours, she sat by a little stream to eat her sandwiches. She hadn’t enjoyed a meal so much for weeks, simple as this one was.

By mid afternoon she was tired and had decided to stop soon. When she came to a delightful little village, she went into the shop and asked if anyone let rooms to travellers. Joanna said that outside town, such enquiries often led you to decent places that took in visitors.

The woman behind the counter studied her for such a long time Nell began to wonder if something was wrong.

‘Hiking, are you?’

‘Yes.’

‘On your own?’

‘Yes. I’m a widow.’ That sounded more respectable than a single woman, surely? ‘My name’s … Greenhill. My husband died recently and I needed to get away.’

The woman’s gaze flicked down to her ring finger. Nell had taken off the wedding ring, but the mark it’d made was still there. ‘Lost your ring?’

‘No. I didn’t want to be reminded of … anything.’

‘Bad, was he?’

She was startled by that. ‘How did you—?’

‘You see a lot of things when you run a shop. People would be surprised sometimes at what I see.’

‘Oh. Well … we weren’t exactly happily married, I must admit.’

The woman’s expression was now sympathetic. ‘I have a spare bedroom and I do take in visitors. The room’s free tonight, as it happens, but I’ll need you out by nine o’clock so that I can change the bed. There’s a commercial traveller comes every week. Four shillings a night I charge, and that includes a decent breakfast.’

Nell remembered Joanna’s advice. ‘May I see the room, Mrs—?’

‘Cherley. And it’s ‘Miss’. I live here with my mother.’ She lifted up the counter flap to let Nell through. ‘It’s downstairs, at the end of that corridor.’

The room was small and plainly furnished but clean, situated next to the scullery.

‘We’ve not got a fancy bathroom but I’ll bring you a jug of hot water at seven.’

Nell eased off her knapsack, which seemed to have grown heavier as the day progressed. ‘The room is fine. Do you want me to pay now?’

‘Morning will do. I’ll just finish showing you round.’ Miss Cherley led the way towards the back of the cottage and outside. ‘The lavatory’s over there. And you’re welcome
to sit in the summer house if you like. It’s nice in there on a sunny day.’

There was a call from the shop.


Coming
!
I’ll have to leave you now, Mrs Greenhill. Make yourself comfortable. Tea’s at six. My mother serves it, then takes over the shop to give me a rest. Unless we get busy.’

Nell was more tired than she’d expected. Back in the room she took off her boots and jacket, wriggling her toes and easing her shoulders, which still seemed to be carrying the knapsack. She donned her old pair of shoes, which she’d stuffed in at the last minute. Fancy owning three sets of footwear! She had the new shoes with her, but they were too good for walking round gardens. On that thought she took them out to admire them and stroke the shiny new leather. Like the walking boots, they fitted perfectly.

She didn’t even bother to take her book but strolled outside, stopping to look at the ripe red strawberries and raspberries. The sight of them made her mouth water. She also recognised lettuces, spring onions, radishes, peas, beans, and surely those were carrot and beetroot tops? How wonderful to grow your own food, not to have to buy the cheap wilted ones from the market just before closing time!

In the summer house she found a wooden chair that was so comfortable she closed her eyes and leant back. She woke with a start to see an old lady smiling down at her.

‘Tea’s ready, Mrs Greenhill.’

‘Oh, thank you. Sorry. I don’t usually fall asleep in the daytime.’

‘I’ve had many a good nap in here.’ She patted Nell on
the shoulder. ‘Healing, it is, a quiet place on a sunny day.’

Tea was delicious and did indeed offer her the produce of the garden. Cold meat, cheese and salad with crusty new bread, followed by strawberries and raspberries with cream. Nell couldn’t resist the second helping she was offered of the latter. ‘If you’re sure you have enough?’

‘Bless you,’ said the old lady. ‘We’ve plenty more where that came from at this time of year.’

‘I’ve never tasted any fruit so delicious.’

Nell went to bed early, and for the first time since the explosion, fell asleep quickly.

 

She woke at six o’clock by her new watch, and lay listening to a wonderful chorus of birdsong until her hot water arrived at seven o’clock on the dot. She got ready in a leisurely way, studying her face in the mirror. You look thin and tired, Nell Greenhill, she thought, and your face is too pale. Well, time and an outdoor life would remedy that.

She enjoyed a delicious breakfast of porridge, followed by ham and eggs, with bread and butter and jam. She’d never eaten so heartily in her whole life.

Clearly, her hostess was itching to turn out the room ready for the next visitor, so Nell put the final things into her knapsack, consulted her map again and found a roundabout route to her next goal, Wilmslow. There was something about villages that made her feel better. They were not only pretty, but they weren’t full of pushing, rushing people, as Swindon and Manchester had been.

She decided to avoid towns as much as possible, even if it took her longer to get to Chester. That thought made her stop. Why was she going to Chester, anyway? That had
been Joanna’s suggestion, but really Nell wanted to head south. She intended to be back in Wiltshire before winter set in, but she could take her time getting there.

In fact, she could do whatever she wanted. Oh, the joy of that!

She left immediately after breakfast, though it was still only half past eight. No need to walk briskly, she told herself. Hiking doesn’t mean hurrying.

She stopped to rest after about an hour’s steady walking, leaning on a fence to watch a mare suckle its foal in a field, stopping about a mile further on to sit for a while on a grassy bank in the dappled shade of some young trees.

Why people said the countryside was quiet, she didn’t know, because there were plenty of noises: a chorus of the various bird songs and calls, not all of them pretty, insects buzzing, the occasional motor car or horse vehicle going past, a cow mooing in the distance, always something happening.

The air felt so clean she breathed deeply. Yes, spending time alone was the right thing to do, she was even more certain of that now.

 

Frank rapped on the door of the house, feeling a little wary because places like these belonged to the gentry.

A maid opened the door and looked down her nose at him. ‘Tradesmen to the back door.’

‘I’m not a tradesman. I’ve come to see Mrs Greenhill. I was told she was staying here.’

A lady came out of a room to one side. She nodded and the maid left. ‘Can I help you?’

Frank breathed deeply. As if she hadn’t overheard
him telling the maid what he wanted! ‘I need to see Mrs Greenhill.’

She frowned as she looked at him. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I’m her husband’s cousin. I need to see her on important family business.’

Silence. Was she deaf?

‘Nell’s left. She’s gone hiking. I couldn’t say where she is now.’

‘She must have said she was going somewhere!’

‘No. That’s the whole point. She’s just enjoying the countryside, going where the whim takes her.’ She reached out to shut the door but he held it open.

‘Take your hand off that door or I’ll call the police.’

He scowled and stepped back. The door shut in his face.

An hour later he returned, going along a little alley he found between the back gardens. They delivered coal and such this way, he’d guess. Well, he was going to deliver something else.

He waited to make sure no one was around, then hurled the stones at the greenhouse, smashing several windows. He didn’t wait to see what happened, but ran off as fast as he could, smiling.

No one treated a Greenhill like that and got away with it.

But there was nothing to do then except go to the station and catch a train home. He thought about it as the train jolted along. It wasn’t over yet. Nell would be bound to go back to Swindon in the end. It was where she and her family came from. He’d heard that one of her sisters was still living nearby in the country.

And he’d be waiting for Nell. He was going to get
hold of that money, whatever it took. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, the unfairness of her getting it all.

 

Two days later Nell was south of Wilmslow. She hadn’t gone far because she was enjoying visiting small country churches, stopping to read the inscriptions on the tombs or going inside and marvelling at the beautiful stained glass windows.

She hadn’t known places like these existed. So many generations had come and gone in them and the continuity of that comforted her, told her not all children died. Many people had lived to a fine old age. It was comforting to find a seat in that softly coloured light from the windows and just sit quietly. So very comforting.

She was making for the village of Alderley Edge, hoping to spend the night there, then go up to the escarpment that Flora had told her about, south of the village. It apparently had beautiful views over the countryside. She couldn’t get enough of beautiful views, had spent her whole life until now without knowing any.

That afternoon, however, the sky began to cloud over and the air became markedly cooler, with the damp feel of approaching rain. She decided not to get her umbrella and mackintosh out yet and trudged on.

A motor car approached from behind her and she stood to one side to let it pass. To her surprise, it stopped beside her. It was driven by a very modern young woman with such short hair Nell felt rather shocked by it. The woman had a small felt hat too, not like the huge ones ladies usually wore. Only she must be a lady to be able to afford a motor car.

‘Would you like a ride? I don’t think any more buses are due today.’

‘Yes, please. I’m hoping to find somewhere to stay in Alderley Edge till the rain’s passed.’

‘Hop in, then. No need to get wet. I’m going there too and I bet we beat the rain.’

She talked non-stop while driving at a breakneck speed through the narrow lanes. Nell found she only needed to make appropriate noises or comments every now and then to keep the conversation going.

BOOK: Elm Tree Road
11.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Space Between Us by Jessica Martinez
The Devil's Garden by Debi Marshall
A Murderous Game by Paris, Patricia
1945 by Robert Conroy
Destiny of Coins by Aiden James
Star Wars on Trial by David Brin, Matthew Woodring Stover, Keith R. A. Decandido, Tanya Huff, Kristine Kathryn Rusch
The Sexiest Man Alive by Juliet Rosetti
Tides of War by Steven Pressfield