Charlie looked at him soberly. ‘Do them again. Get the men down in the ditches and poke about a bit.’ Tom shrugged and rounded up his mates. Grumbling, the men began helping each other down the steep incline
‘Waste of bloody time this is,’ one mumbled within earshot.
‘Dogs would have sniffed him out by now anyway,’ another man complained.
‘Get on with it,’ Charlie shouted, sliding down into a ditch himself.
***
The yard was deserted and it didn’t require brains to know where everyone was. Jim passed the reins to one of the stable boys who along with another lad led the horses into their stalls. Dusty and parched, but glad to be back from Lower Shelton, Jim made for the kitchen where he knew someone would be pleased to see him.
Dora Stoakley was busy by the stove and looked round as Jim came in and her big smile warmed his heart. Dora had worked for the Deverell family for as long as he could remember and he’d never known a time when she wasn’t in her kitchen waiting to welcome him into its warmth. Jim missed his Mum more than he let on, so today he relished Dora’s attention.
‘Hello Dora, I thought I’d just pop in to see how you are.’ Jim hugged the kind cook.
‘Get away with you. You’ve come for some of my apple pie and don’t deny it.’ Dora laughed and brought a freshly baked pie to the table. It smelled good.
‘You know me, Dora, I could never say no to your baking.’ Jim watched Dora cut him a large slice of pie, heaping it onto a plate, and he tucked in without needing encouragement. He’d almost finished his pie when the kitchen’s inner door opened and Daisy Hope bustled in, carrying a large wicker basket filled with linens. Jim already knew that Daisy had taken his mother’s job at the Manor, but at the sight of her a piece of pie stuck in his throat and he nearly choked. Daisy had filled out even more, and because of the excess weight, her face reminded him of a greedy hamster.
Daisy blushed at Jim’s scrutiny but managed a quick hello, and then she rushed out of his sight into the small laundry room attached to the kitchen.
Dora pursed her lips. Daisy hadn’t confided in her, and it wasn’t Dora’s way to ask, but she had her suspicions about Daisy’s gain in weight. Dora had never felt broody for a child of her own, substituting any temporary need in that direction with the Deverell children and the Farrells’ brood. She knew all the signs though, having watched her sister bloom over the months before giving birth to Dora’s nephew, Billy. Daisy didn’t have a young man as far as Dora knew, which raised doubts about a possible pregnancy, but seeing the quick exchange between Daisy and Jim just now, well, Dora put two and two together and made five.
Dora went to the open doorway of the laundry room and said kindly, ‘Daisy, come and have a rest love, take the weight off your feet for five minutes.’
‘I will in a minute, thanks. I’ll just put these linens to soak first,’ Daisy said gratefully. The cook was a good sort and Daisy never regretted coming to work with her. When Leo found out she was living under the same roof as him, he was horrified and didn’t mince his words telling her so. Daisy thought about the last time she and Leo were together. Mr Treweeks, the landlord at the Nags Head, still let them use an upstairs bedroom and turned a blind eye to their comings and goings. All that day she’d rehearsed the best way to tell him she was carrying his child, but the look of shock on his face as she undressed in front of him stopped her.
‘My God, Daisy, you’re a cow,’ he’d said, sneering in distaste before leaving her alone without so much as a kiss.
Leo had had no interest in her since then and Daisy knew it wouldn’t be long before she would have to find herself somewhere else to live. Mr Treweeks wouldn’t have her back, not in her condition, and after the baby was born, God bless it, it was unlikely he’d entertain a barmaid with excess baggage. Going home to face her father and mother’s disapproval wasn’t an option either.
In the kitchen Daisy sat down opposite Jim at the table, and Dora put a mug of hot tea and a piece of apple pie in front of her. Daisy hoped she’d found a friend in Dora and decided to confide in her when the time was right.
‘I’ll be off then.’ Jim stood and thanked Dora for the pie and tea.
Daisy smiled up at him, admiring his dark good looks, comparing them to Leo’s fair complexion. ‘How’s your Mum and Amy doing, Jim?’ she asked genuinely.
Before Jim could answer a commotion was heard from outside. He opened the kitchen door and looked out. Men were coming back into the yard and through the roar of their voices he made out three words.
‘We’ve found Laurence.’
***
John dismounted from Belle and led the horse into the makeshift stable in the paddock adjacent to Primrose Cottage. Easing the saddle from the horse’s back, John laid it over a wooden stool in the corner. He slipped off her blanket and with gentle strokes wiped off the sweat from the horse’s coat. From the pump outside he filled a bucket full with fresh water and placed it in another corner of the stable, alongside a feed of oats and corn and a bed of clean hay. Stiff and aching from the long ride, John stretched and arched his back to release the tension in his muscles, and in the quiet of the moment he heard a noise. Straightening he strained to listen. Slow, stealthily placed footsteps could not avoid scraping against the shingle stones and they sounded now as though they were right outside the stable door. There again, more footsteps. Whoever it was, they weren’t alone. John watched the door swing open, hinges squealing in protest, to reveal a large dense shape silhouetted against the dusky sky. The sudden glare of a lamp illuminated the shabby shack and John shielded his eyes, backing away, putting the horse between him and the person whose face he couldn’t see behind the lamp.
‘John,’ a deep grainy voice boomed and to John’s relief it was a voice he immediately recognised.
‘Blimey Bill, you gave me a turn, creeping about like that. What’s up?’ Constable Bill Lucas stepped inside and as John had suspected, the man wasn’t alone. Two other officers waited outside the door, as if on guard.
Constable Lucas stood six feet two, his shoulders as wide as the door frame. He spotted the way John’s gaze kept shifting to the door as though contemplating escape and the instinctive way he had stepped behind his horse for protection. Bill liked John Farrell, respected him even, having known him for almost five years, but he had a job to do. He cleared his throat.
‘John, while you were away Laurence Deverell’s body was found.’ He waited for a response, surprised when none came. If anything Bill noticed a sense of relief in John’s demeanour. Bill pondered the possibility of John’s guilt after all, which up to now he’d remained sceptical of. ‘I need you to come with me to the police station. There are a few questions Inspector Lambourne wants to ask you.’
John’s unease was obvious in his voice. ‘Can’t you ask your questions here? I’ve just ridden all the way from Wrexham and could do with a hot drink and a bite to eat.’ John smiled good-naturedly, testing the situation, adding, ‘Come to the cottage and I’ll make us all a brew.’
‘Sorry, John, I’ve had my orders to take you in.’
‘Am I under arrest then?’ John asked quietly.
‘Not exactly, no. Not unless you resist, which I’m sure there’s no need for.’
John meekly followed the policeman outside and allowed himself to be helped into the horse-drawn police wagon. ‘What about Jim? I’ll have to let him know where I am.’
‘It’s been taken care of.’ Constable Lucas climbed inside and sat opposite John, making no attempt at any further conversation. The other two policemen sat up on top and made off towards Chester at a steady pace.
As soon as Jim heard of his father’s arrest he made straight for Chester police station and demanded to see him. After a long wait he was led to a holding cell, and once inside he waited for the heavy door to shut behind him before he spoke.
‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on, Dad, and no bullshit about a stranger attacking Mum and Amy either?’ he said angrily.
John sat on his bed, a thin mattress on a low wooden shelf about three feet wide, unshaven and grimy, his face paler than Jim had ever seen. Jim sat down on the makeshift bed and placed a hand on his father’s arm.
‘Are you all right, Dad?’ Jim said, sorry for his outburst.
‘Yes, I’m all right, and no, I’m not going to tell you what’s going on. I don’t want you involved, so it’s better if you don’t know.’ John stood and began pacing the floor.
Jim watched in silence. Constable Lucas said his father was in for questioning about Laurence Deverell’s death. Laurence had disappeared on the same day Mum and Amy were attacked, so it stood to reason the two were connected. All the talk about a stranger was nonsense. He’d asked around and no one else had seen a stranger lurking about in the village. Jim suspected he’d been told a pack of lies. His father not reporting the attack to the police wasn’t logical either. So if he wasn’t to be told the truth, he could only guess at the part his father played in it all. Dad must think I’m stupid if he doesn’t understand I can put two and two together, he thought, his anger rising again.
John stopped pacing and sat down beside his son. ‘Your job is to look after Lillian and Harry until I get out of here, or until your Mum and Amy come home. I may not have a job when I get out, so don’t go causing trouble with the Deverells. We can’t do with you losing your job and all. Do you understand me, Jim? I only have you to rely on, son; please don’t let me down.’ John’s look of concern mellowed Jim’s anger and he nodded.
‘I won’t let you down, Dad, I promise.’ Jim heard the key in the cell door and stood. John grabbed his hand and said with forced optimism,
‘Thanks son. Anyway, we don’t need to worry. I have an alibi. I was with Charlie laying traps in the wood all that day remember. He’ll speak up for me and I’ll be out of here in no time.’
Jim smiled half-heartedly, wondering why Charlie hadn’t already been in to clear his father’s name.
Charlie Brock, John’s so-called best friend, visited John a few days later, and to John’s surprise and dismay, Charlie wouldn’t verify his alibi.
‘I’m not speaking up, John. I’d rather not get involved if you don’t mind,’ Charlie said, not a bit shamefaced. ‘I don’t want to rub Leo up the wrong way. You know how he is, and I can’t afford to lose my job, any more than you,’ he emphasised.
Chapter 17
Head down, hurrying along, David’s step faltered when he saw Leonie’s car parked on his drive. ‘Oh for goodness sake, what does she want now?’ he muttered to himself. He walked into his living room, surprised to find it empty. A noise took him to his office in time to see Leonie struggling to open a drawer in his desk. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked quietly.
‘Oh my God, David, you gave me a fright. What are you creeping about for?’
‘Well?’ David asked, ignoring her question.
‘You said you had information concerning the Farrells. I wanted to know what it was.’
‘You should have waited and asked me first.’
‘Don’t be so stuffy. It’s not as if it’s a secret between us.’ Leonie stared at him in defiance.
‘That’s not the point. How would you like it if I came to your office and tried to root through your desk?’
‘You wouldn’t dare. Anyway, come on, open up, and let’s have a look.’ Leonie changed places with her brother and pushed him towards his desk.
‘No! Not now, Leonie. It’s been a long day and I want a shower and something to eat.’ Seething inside, David held his anger in check and stood his ground when he saw Leonie bristle. ‘No, Leonie, I mean it. As you said, no good can come of raking up the past, so leave it alone.’
Leonie didn’t answer. She stood frozen, looking through the office door into the hall. Curious, David turned to see what held her attention.
Amelia Farrell returned their stares. ‘Reverend Lanceley, I’m sorry to arrive unannounced like this. The back door was open as you’d said it would be, and I couldn’t get any answer when I knocked.’ Amelia looked from one to the other.
David gaped at Amelia, wondering if she had overheard their conversation.
‘I’m so sorry for intruding upon you, please forgive me,’ Amelia said to Leonie and then added, ‘Shall I call back at a more convenient time, David?’ Amelia spoke his name quietly and smiled shyly at him.
Sensing Amelia’s embarrassment, David hastily made the introductions. ‘This is my sister, Leonie. Leonie, Amelia Farrell.’
Leonie was resentful of the intrusion and as soon as she knew who the visitor was, she stood staring out of the window indifferently.
‘Come in, come in.’ David led Amelia into his sitting room and she sat down on the sofa. He smiled warmly and then whispered, ‘It’s my turn to apologise for my sister’s rudeness. Don’t take it personally; Leonie is like that with everyone.’ He laughed, trying to make light of the uncomfortable situation. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Thank you,’ Amelia said. It seemed tea was the cure for everything.
Leonie could hear the undertones of her brother’s voice, and giving up on the purpose of her visit she walked to the open doorway of the sitting room. ‘No, please don’t leave on my account, Miss Farrell,’ she said scathingly, and giving her brother a disapproving look, she walked out of the house. David shook his head at Leonie’s retreating back and apologised again for his sister’s rudeness.
David made the drink, and after he had passed Amelia a mug of his strong tea he sat down beside her on the sofa. ‘Well, what can I do for you? Not unearthed another headstone I trust?’
Amelia shook her head. She wanted to tell him about the article Grace had found in the
Centurion
but was worried about how he would react. She was somewhat reassured by the fact he was a religious man, whose Christian faith and beliefs included forgiveness and turning the other cheek and all that. Surely he wouldn’t bear a grudge against them for something their great grandfather had done. However, how would he respond to his parishioners’ reactions? We couldn’t continue to live in the cottage if everyone hated us, she thought sadly.