All the dear faces (60 page)

“
Now look 'ere ... "

“
No, you look here, constable. If you will do nothing to punish Bert Garnett for the horrors . . . for his brutal attacks on these two women . . ."

“
TWO . . . !"

“
Oh yes, not so long ago he beat Phoebe here senseless . . ."

“
It was not reported. "

“
No, she . . . denied it was him . If

“
Why is that then?"

“
She had her reasons." Charlie turned away wearily. "Oh, what's the use? The man must be punished and it seems there is no one but myself willing to do it so if you will excuse me ... "

“
Charlie . . . no . . . !"

“
Now look 'ere, sir, you can't tek law inter yer own 'ands. There's nowt ter prove that Bert Garnett attacked your . . . your . . . Miss Abbott an' if . . . well, sir, should 'e be found injured in any way it would naturally be assumed that you were t' culprit an' ah would ...
“

The screams could be heard only faintly at first and the constable did not appear to have heard them, his calm voice, for surely this chap needed calming, continuing to flow from him in what he hoped were soothing waves. The dogs pricked their ears and both Annie and Phoebe turned their heads towards the open door where the constable still leaned. Leaves had been tossed in by the wind, scurrying about the flags like small animals and a billow of
smoke spluttered from the chimney caused by the draught the open door allowed in
.

The screams grew louder and the constable turned in alarm, his face plainly showing his bewilderment. What in tarnation was up now, his expression said, on this bedevilled day? The screams were that of a woman, perhaps attacked by the same chap who had brutalised Miss Abbott, he remembered thinking, and when Mrs Garnett, whom he had seen no more than two hours ago in the rather unsavoury comfort of her own kitchen, lumbered into view, her children in a long, wailing line behind her, his face gaped in consternation
.

She could not speak as she clutched at his arm. Her hair was about her like that of a mad woman's and through it her eyes peered in terror. She still had her baby under one arm, its fists flailing, its cries piteous and for several minutes it was bedlam in the kitchen as the constable endeavoured to extract some sense from the heavily pregnant woman. The two other women were calm though, putting Mrs Garnett on the settle, soothing the crying children with biscuits, brewing tea and even Mr Lucas who, it appeared to him, loathed the very sound of the name Garnett, took one child on his knee before the fire.

“
What is it, Sally?" Miss Abbott was saying compassionately and the constable began to believe at that moment that . . . well, that there might be some truth in her story. "Is it . . . has he . . . ?" She could not, it appeared, quite bring herself to say his name.

“
Bert, aye, it's Bert . . ."

“
Has he . . . hit you . . . ?"

“
No . . . oh, no ... "

“
Then what . . . ?
”

The constable shut the door behind him and moved forward since it seemed to him this might be a matter in which the law could be involved. Mrs Garnett kept turning to him as though she thought so too, ignoring Miss Abbott's kindness.

“
'Tis Bert, constable . . ." Her face was as white as bleached bone and her eyes looked haunted.

“
What about Bert, Mrs Garnett? Has he had an accident?"

“
Oh, no . . . at least . . ."

“
Yes?"

“
Three men come ... "

“
Yes?"

“
They took 'im away. Jesus, 'e were screamin' it weren't 'im. That she'd made it up . . ."

“
What? She'd made what up? Who did 'e mean?
”

Sally turned her gaze on Annie but in her eyes there was nothing but a kind of sad regret
.

*

They found Bert Garnett the next day, high on the highest point of Skiddaw where he had lain all night. A note pushed under his wife's kitchen door told her where he could be found. One of his legs was broken, and his right wrist, and when he was brought down Sally was hard pressed to recognise him. No more than a crumple of bleeding bones, his cheeks gashed, his teeth gone, his ribs broken. The painful scrape of his breath testified to damage in his lungs, the strange look in his eyes to the damage in his head
.

They helped her, all the women of the parish, rallying round her as she and her mother had always rallied round them in times of trouble. But not one would stay, they told her, if she allowed the woman from Browhead across her threshwood. This was her fault, they said venomously, flaunting herself all over the fells and in the village causing men to . . . well, of course they were not saying it had been Bert who had assaulted her, that is if she had been assaulted, which they doubted, and if the constable had not been at her farm and that man of hers under the constable's nose when Bert was taken, he would certainly have been arrested for the crime. Dear Lord, there'd been nothing but trouble ever since she'd come back to Bassenthwaite and if they had any say in it, which, being women, they hadn't, she'd have been tarred and feathered and flogged out of town like they used to do in the old days
.

He came that night, Reed Macauley, knocking quietly
at her door and when Charlie opened it, tipping his hat curtly before pushing past him into her kitchen. His eyes went straight to her as she stood up and in them was the deep and abiding truth of his love for her, his compassion, his fear.

“
Are you all right?" he asked. The other two in the room were of no concern nor interest to him.

“
Yes."

“
He did not . . . ?" His voice faltered for a moment, ". . . rape you?"

“
No, only . . ."

“
He was telling the truth then. I thought so." "It was . . . you?"

“
Yes. Some men I know brought him to me. It was a fair fight. Just myself and Bert Garnett. I won. He couldn't be allowed to get away with it. I wouldn't allow him to.
”

He turned to Charlie then and though his voice was flat and quite without expression, it was very evident that the remark was aimed at him.

“
You're still here then." It was not a question. His eyes were a flat, cold blue and around one of them was a deep purple bruise where Bert Garnett's fist had found its mark and his bottom lip was split. "Don't you think it's time you moved on? I can supply Annie with all the hired help she needs."

“
You bastard." Charlie's voice was no more than a whisper and at once Annie went to stand beside him, putting her hand through his arm.

“
Charlie wanted to thrash Bert but I wouldn't let him." "Really." Reed smiled.

“
There is no need for you to defend me to this man, my darling. I know what I should have done and wanted to do, and his opinion is of no concern to me . . .
”

It seemed Reed Macauley's attention had gone no further than the endearment.

“
My darling! My darling . . ." he snarled, his arrogant presence suddenly immensely dangerous in the small room. "She is not your darling, you insolent bastard, norever will be and I'd be obliged if you'd take your filthy hands off her before I give you a taste of what I gave Bert Garnett since you were too much of a coward to do it yourself. Move away from her . . . !"

“
I have more right to her than you, you swine. Tell me, is it not true that you already have a wife?"

“
Not for long. I am waiting to hear from my lawyer . . " "So you said several months ago."

“
My wife has left me and . . ."

“
Oh, please . . . stop it . . . stop it . . . Phoebe, can't you make them stop it . . ."

“
Annie, come with me to Long Beck. You will be safe there from the kind of abuse you were subjected to yesterday. Let me protect you . . ."

“
Reed, please . . ."

“
Leave her alone, you bastard . . ."

“
Come with me, Annie . . ."

“
Reed, please . . . if you don't leave my home I will. . ."

“
Yes, Annie, what will you do?"

“
Oh, God, I don't know . . ." and before the appalled gaze of the three who loved her most in the world she slid bonelessly to the floor, putting her face in her hands and beginning to weep with the inconsolable intensity of a child. "I cannot stand another moment of this .. . can't you see . . . both of you . . . you are destroying me . . . I want peace . . . peace, not this . . . Oh, God, not this.
”

At once they were both bending over her but with a curt word of dismissal Phoebe was there, helping her up, holding her close, moving with her towards the twisting staircase.

“
Yer like two dogs fightin' over a bone," she said through clenched teeth, ". . . an' should be ashamed o' thissen. An' what about that poor old man in there, tell me that? 'Appen if tha' was ter see about 'is coffin an' gettin' 'im along corpse way to 'is funeral it'd give 'er more comfort than thy brawlin' over 'er. That's what she needs. Comfort an' a bit o' peace.
”

Natty Varty was laid to rest by Charlie Lucas and Reed Macauley two days later, causing consternation in the community, for what was the hussy up to now? they wondered. They carried the coffin between them without a word, standing silently by the open grave, the two women beside them and when it was over, parting the same way
.

Chapter
33

The winter was hard and cold, long weeks of blizzards which locked them in the farmhouse as though they were prisoners in jail. Long weeks of freezing after that, during which Annie's main concern was for her pregnant ewes. They were quiet months in which the three of them saw no one but each other. Months of calm and peace and the slow fading away of the horrors of the previous year. Not Cat of course, she would never be forgotten, nor would the grieving and sense of loss be totally absent, but an acceptance was painfully gained day by slow day, until it was possible to live in some content and blessing
.

The great white bowl of the valley glistened under a sky so deep and intense a blue it was almost the colour of the bluebells which carpeted the woods in May. The sheep had been brought down, a long dark ribbon etched thinly against the whiteness as they came in single file, each following the tail of the one in front directed by Blackie and Bonnie, though not Natty's dog, who kept close to the fire now, and at the bottom Charlie and Annie threw out great flaps of hay for the hungry sheep to feed on. The goodness of summer was in the hay and the sheep consumed it at great speed, keeping a wary eye on the dogs whilst Annie and Charlie watched in smiling silence. When he put his arm about her shoulder she moved away, pretending a concern for a ewe but he knew it was really an excuse to avoid his touch and he sighed, anguished, his hopes of last year when she had seemed to him to be ready for his love, dashed away
.

He would never know who had caused it, Bert Garnett or Reed Macauley. Neither had been seen since that day in October when Bert had tried to rape Annie and Natty
had died. Of course Reed Macauley was a businessman
as well as a
farmer, with concerns that took him to Carlisle,
to London and even, it was rumoured, abroad to foreign parts, and those who had been his guests before his wife left him and who speculated on his whereabouts were in no doubt that wherever it was and whatever he was doing, he would be doing it in style. A man who enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh was Reed Macauley, a fastidious man accustomed to luxury, good living, every comfort his considerable wealth could achieve for him. It was said he had been a time or two to Long Beck checking on his assets there, making sure those he left in charge were doing their duty but he had certainly not gone near the woman from Browhead, whose name had been linked, on several occasions, with his. Speculation abounded, mouths pressed to ears that were pricked for any gossip which was fed by the interest Reed Macauley had always aroused in them. Did he see his lovely young wife? Was he trying to effect a reconciliation? Or was he, as it had been whispered last year, still pursuing that elusive something called 'a divorce' which it was said he had been seeking in London? Not one of them knew anyone who had been divorced or even how one went about obtaining such a thing, and it was certain that if one did, one would instantly become a social outcast. Divorces were granted of course, but only by a special Act of Parliament and then only after the Ecclesiastical Court granted a decree similar to that of judicial separation, which still did not dissolve a marriage, and was granted only on the grounds of adultery or cruelty and how could the lovely Mrs Reed Macauley be accused of either of these? It had been known for a man of the nobility to free himself from an adulterous wife, the law taking the view that a man such as he must be free to re-marry and get himself an heir but Reed Macauley did not fall into that category
.