Honey's Farm (51 page)

Arian wakened, consciousness returning slowly, and she stared in bewilderment at the bedroom that had once been hers. It was as though time had lost its meaning and she was still a child, living here under the protection of her parents.

Once, a long time ago, she had been happy here, happy to ride free across the wild grasslands, happy to share her life with her father. But that was before he began drinking heavily and slapping her every time she displeased him. At those times, Bob Smale had been a monster, a man she didn't know; and now he was dead and she was being held prisoner in what was once a safe haven.

And now it was another man who had hurt her. Price Davies had used her, for several nights had forced her to share his bed. In that moment, Arian hated Price Davies more than she had ever hated anyone.

She turned her eyes cautiously towards the pillow beside her. It was empty, and relief swamped her, so that Arian felt faint and weak. She lay for a moment gathering her strength before sitting up. Under the tangle of bedclothes, she was naked, her body marked with bruises. She shuddered.

She tensed as she heard the latch of the door being lifted and then she eased herself back against the pillows, closing her eyes in feigned sleep.

She heard a coarse laugh. ‘Let her sleep it off.' It was Price's voice. ‘She'll give you no trouble today, Mike, I've taken all the spirit out of the bitch.'

Anger brought tears to Arian's eyes, but she forced herself to remain still. She heard Mike's voice, a little truculent as he rebuked Price Davies in an uncharacteristic mood of rebellion.

‘I hope you are not being cruel to the girl. She's my brother's child after all, mind,' he said. Arian felt a small flame of warmth, her uncle had some humanity left then.

The hostility in Price Davies's voice brought chills to her spine. ‘She had it coming; took my job from under my nose, didn't she? Well, what I've done to her is not punishment,' he said crudely, ‘it's more like pleasure, I'd say.

‘I'm going to work now, so watch her! Watch both of them; we can't have them slipping the net, not now. Things have gone too far for that. I can't be here all the time. I don't want to lose my job, not after all I've done to get it back.'

Arian lay still for a long time. She could imagine how Price would have blackened her name with Eline Temple. She shuddered; but he would pay for what he'd done, oh, yes, he would pay, one way or another.

She remained quiet until she heard the outer door of the farmhouse closing. Then she breathed more easily, knowing that Price had left for work.

She roused herself to climb painfully from the bed and, looking round, realized that Price had removed her clothes from the bedroom; he was taking no chances.

Arian strode into the kitchen and, ignoring Mike's gaping mouth and shocked eyes, pulled on her clothes. She flashed Fon a look begging her silently not to move or speak.

‘
Duw
, girl, he's beat you bad. There's a bastard the man is,' Mike said angrily.

Arian pulled on her shoes while Mike looked at her helplessly. ‘I'm going to wash,' she said coldly. ‘I feel dirty after sleeping with that pig.'

She opened the door to the back yard and was outside in the cold clearness of the day before Mike had time to gather his thoughts.

Her spine tingled as she climbed over the fence and quickly hurried across the fields, wondering if Mike would come after her. She knew every inch of the farmlands where she had lived and, provided Mike did nothing to stop her, it would be an easy task to make her way to Honey's Farm and find help before it was too late.

There had been no possibility of freeing Fon; she would have to hope the girl would be safe until she returned. Mike the Spud, rough though he might be, was not the animal that Price Davies was; but neither could he protect the woman once Price had made up his mind to do his worst.

She stared across at the open lands beyond the trees and knew that stretch could be clearly seen from the front of the house. She would just have to take her chances that Mike would be otherwise occupied and wouldn't notice she was taking a long time over her supposed wash outside at the pump.

She took a deep breath and braced herself to run across the clearing, looking ahead to where the fields sloped away from the farmhouse. Once there, she would be hidden from sight; and from there on, it was only a matter of a few miles to Honey's Farm and safety.

She was almost clear of the open stretch of land when, with a suddenness that made her cry out, cruel arms caught and held her and her hair was grasped in a painful hold.

‘Thought you could put one over on me, did you?' Price rasped into her face. His eyes were blazing, and in that moment Arian knew with a sickening certainty that he was not quite sane.

‘I turned back for my tools,' he said, smiling unpleasantly, ‘and I watched you leave the farmhouse, bold as brass.'

He laughed and tugged at her hair, forcing her head backwards. ‘You have to get up very early to catch me out, madam.'

He slapped her face and then dragged her back across the ground, not caring that cruel stones dug into her flesh or that her body ached from the beating he'd given her. It was almost a relief when they reached the farmhouse door and he flung it open, throwing her inside.

She fell on to the stone floor, her hair falling over her face, her breathing laboured. She heard Fon gasp with shock and looking up saw the horror in the girl's eyes.

‘Tie her up,' Price growled at Mike. ‘Or do I have to do everything round here?' He stood menacingly before Mike, and the man cringed.

‘I didn't know she'd gone,' he lied. ‘I was busy clearing the place up.'

‘Shut your mouth, you stupid oaf!' Price said fiercely. ‘And hurry up and get that note over to Honey's Farm. Leave it where that blasted Irishman can find it for sure this time, do you hear? If you fail, it will be the worse for you.'

He left then, slamming the door shut, his feet crunching the hard ground and fading away into silence.

‘Poor girl.' Mike helped Arian to her feet. ‘Not even your daddy beat you this bad; you don't deserve this.'

‘Look, Mike,' Arian said, ‘he means to kill us. You've got to let us go before it's too late.'

Mike was staring at her, his hands hanging to his sides, a hopeless look in his eyes. ‘I can't let you go again, girl, he'd kill
me
for sure. He won't go that far with you two; he wants to get money for this one.' He gestured towards where Fon was sitting.

‘And what about me?' Arian asked. ‘I'm no use to him now; he's got what he wanted, my job at the workshop and my total humiliation. I'm no further use to him now, you must see that.'

‘He'll just let you go' – Mike was almost pleading – ‘you'll be in disgrace with your boss, and that will be that.'

Mike's eyes flickered away from Arian's direct gaze. ‘You'll soon find another job, girl.'

‘Don't be silly, Mike!' Arian's voice was sharper than she'd intended. ‘Price can't afford to let us go. We'll talk, tell everyone what he's done.
He'll
be the one who's disgraced.'

She saw at once that she had made a mistake. A stubborn look came over Mike's face, and his eyes had a closed look that she recognized from the old days, when she used to plead with him to help her father. He hadn't wanted the responsibility of being involved then, and he certainly wasn't going to go against his own interests now.

‘I'll have to tie you up again, girl. Sorry I am but there's nothing else for it.'

Mike pushed her into a chair and twisted the rope around her body. Arian, for a moment, felt like weeping, her pain and the humiliation of the last few nights had been nothing but a useless ordeal. She had not escaped as she'd hoped; she was back where she had started.

‘I'm going out for a while,' Mike said. ‘Don't try to get away, right?'

He left them, and the sound of his footsteps could be heard fading into the distance.

‘Are you all right?' Fon's voice trembled, and Arian attempted to smile.

‘Aye, I'll live,' she said ruefully. ‘But I didn't do us much good by running away, did I?'

‘You look awful,' Fon said, and the sympathy in her voice brought fresh tears to Arian's eyes.

‘Well, thank you kindly.' She forced a dry note into her voice. ‘I've known times when I've felt better, mind.'

‘Oh, God,' Fon said softly, ‘is he going to do that to me when he comes back tonight?'

It was a fair bet, Arian thought; but she forced herself to speak reassuringly.

‘I shouldn't think so,' she said. ‘You know he's afraid of your husband; I imagine he'll treat you with a bit more respect than he's treated me.'

‘Aye, we might be safe until Jamie gets this note they were on about,' Fon agreed. ‘But once they get the money, if Jamie will give them any, what then?'

Arian shrugged. She didn't have to think very hard to make a good guess, but she wasn't going to reiterate her fears and make Fon feel as hopeless as she did now.

She stared towards the light from the window. The clouds were lifting now, promising a fine, if cold, day. Arian tried to draw hope from the lightening skies, and yet she knew within her heart that there was very little real hope, either for Fon O'Conner or herself.

Jamie was cooking the breakfast for his son and the little girl, both children looking up at him with large eyes.

‘Is Fonny coming home soon?' April asked timidly, for she was half-afraid of the stern-faced man Jamie had become within the last few days.

Jamie was forced to think of a reply. ‘We'll see.' He knew his voice was hard, but the pain bit deep, and anger was making him feel sick and helpless.

The door opened and Tommy came into the kitchen, smelling of the fields.

‘
Duw
, it's been a funny morning.' Tommy took off his boots and left them near the door, padding across the cold slate on feet encased in two pairs of thick socks.

‘Funny?' Jamie didn't think anything was funny, not since Fon had disappeared; the dull sense of anger burned in him, giving him no rest. But he had waited, knowing that sooner or later a sign would come from the men who had taken his wife.

‘Aye,' Tommy said, scraping his chair against the floor in an effort to draw nearer to the table. ‘I saw that Arian Smale, you know, the girl with the silver hair? Flitting across the fields up top there she was, like a ghost. Then I got distracted, and when I looked away there was no sign of her.'

Jamie contained his impatience, waiting for Tommy to get to the point.

‘And then I found this note pinned to my coat. She must have put it there.'

‘Note?' Jamie's tone was sharp. ‘What does it say?' He put down the skillet with the sizzling bacon in it and gave Tommy his full attention.

‘I haven't read it, boss,' Tommy said. ‘You know I'm not so good at letters, but I could see it's got your name on it, so I came back to the farmhouse. I thought it might be important.'

Jamie took the note and tore it open. It contained only a few lines, blunt and to the point, asking Jamie for money in return for his wife.

‘I'm to leave a hundred guineas in a bag,' he said, slumping into a chair. ‘As if I could raise a hundred guineas just like that.'

‘But, boss, you'll have to get it if the missis is to be allowed to come home,' Tommy said, with an unshakeable faith in Jamie's abilities.

Jamie felt a cold touch of fear. ‘There's no signature on this,' he said, waving the note in the air. ‘The bastard who's got Fon isn't giving much away, is he?'

‘You'll pay it though, boss, somehow,' Tommy said quietly, his young face creased with worry.

‘If I pay it, Fon will never be returned to me. Dead women can't talk, sure you must see that, lad?'

For a moment, Jamie felt anger and panic cloud his mind and then he forced himself to think clearly. ‘Arian Smale,' he said suddenly, ‘where did you see her,
exactly
where, think?'

‘Not far from the old farmhouse,' Tommy said, his mind forced into sudden clarity by the urgency in Jamie's voice. ‘Aye, the land that used to belong to Bob Smale, that's where it was. I didn't think anyone was still living there.'

‘I see.' Jamie sat back in his chair, deep in thought. Arian Smale – what was she doing up on the land so early? The place was deserted now.

The idea exploded into his mind with a suddenness that brought excitement tingling through him. The farmhouse!
That
was where Fon was being held, he was sure of it. What better place? It was remote enough and yet right under his nose; the crafty bastard who had taken Fon was not stupid by any means.

His first instinct was to get on his horse and ride up there, a shot-gun at the ready; but in that way he would be putting Fon's life at risk. No, he must move carefully, stealthily; he must outwit this man.

‘What you going to do, boss?' Tommy asked. ‘You can count on me to come in it with you, whatever it is.'

‘Arian Smale,' Jamie said, ‘she's definitely the girl you saw up near the farmhouse – you are sure?'

‘Dunno,' Tommy said. ‘I thought it looked like her; but, come to think of it, when I was in town Saturday, the gossip was she'd buggered off with some fellah, not been in work for a while, and that Price Davies cockahoop because he had her job and was having it cushy-like.'

‘That's very interesting,' Jamie said, his uncertainty turning into a gut feeling that Fon was being held up on the deserted farm. And this Price Davies, what was his involvement in all this? Was he in cahoots with Arian for some reason? The gossips were linking their names together, at any rate.

‘Go up to the farmhouse, Tommy,' Jamie said. ‘Prowl around, try to find out who's there. Be careful you don't arouse anyone's suspicions, mind. If you are spotted, say you're looking for some stray cattle or something.'