Red Sky in the Morning (42 page)

Bruce grinned up at her. ‘I shan’t lose ten bob. I’ll be winning it.’

‘Huh!’ Anna gave a snort, exasperated with them both. She turned on Jed. ‘I’m surprised at you, Jed. And don’t think you can be late for morning milking
tomorrow.’

‘I won’t be.’ He grinned at her and added saucily, ‘Boss.’

‘Oh, you!’ Anna flounced out of the kitchen, leaving each young man to savour the thought of beating his rival.

Anna was busy all the morning and had no chance to speak to her mother alone. She paused only once when passing through the yard, amused to see that Bruce was trying to make
friends with Buster.

‘Here, boy. Here, look what I’ve got for you. A nice piece of meat.’

She chuckled softly to herself.
Bruce is trying to befriend my guard dog
, she thought,
in the hope that he’ll let him into my room tonight.

And in the afternoon, when Bruce said, ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ she agreed readily. ‘We’ll take Buster. He could do with a long run.’ She whistled, but there
was no answering bark, no sound of paws scampering towards her.

‘Where is he?’ Anna murmured, glancing round the yard.

Bruce laughed. ‘Looks like he’s gone for his own long run. Come on. Let’s not waste time looking for him. He’ll be somewhere chasing rabbits.’

It was a beautiful, peaceful afternoon as they walked along, their arms around each other. Beneath the shade of two tall trees, they stopped and Bruce turned to take her into his arms.

‘I reckon you’re even prettier than I remembered,’ he said and kissed the tip of her nose. ‘I’m going to give that Jed a run for his money tonight. Let him know
you’re my girl. He can keep his eyes off you.’

Anna laughed aloud. ‘What, Jed? Don’t be daft.’ But she couldn’t help a faint tinge of pink coming into her cheeks.

‘Well, just you remember if he starts anything, you’re my girl. And you can tell him that. Mind you, I reckon he’ll get the message tonight, after I’ve finished with
him.’

She laughed again. ‘You’re as daft as each other. The pair of you. Besides, Buster will look after me. He’s my guard dog.’ It was an oblique reference to the previous
night and for a moment Bruce drew back and looked straight into her eyes. ‘Yes, he is, isn’t he?’

‘Where the devil is he? Where’s Bruce?’ Douglas ranted after tea.

‘He’s gone down to the pub,’ Anna said.

‘The pub? When he’s got a lovely girl like you here sitting on her own.’ Douglas’s mouth was a grim line. ‘I’ll have a word or two to say to him when he gets
back.’ He frowned. ‘That lad’s getting out of hand since he’s been in the army. Thinks he can disobey me.’

‘Why?’ Anna asked innocently. ‘Did you ask him to stay in tonight?’

‘What? Oh – er – no. Not exactly, but it would only have been polite when he’s your guest and he has only one more day here.’

Anna shrugged. ‘I don’t mind.’

‘Well, you should,’ Douglas snapped. Then he forced a smile. ‘What I mean, love, is don’t you want to see as much of your young man as you can?’

‘Of course I do, but I know how young men like their pint.’ She forbore to tell Douglas about the wager between Bruce and Jed. It would only cause more trouble. ‘I’m sure
he won’t be late,’ she added, placatingly.
Now I’m doing it
, Anna thought.
I’m doing just what Mum does. Trying to keep the peace. Trying to keep Douglas
happy.

‘He’d better not be,’ she heard Douglas mutter beneath his breath. Then he seemed to recover his good humour as he said, ‘How about a game of rummy? May, find the
cards.’

‘Yes, dear,’ May said and got up obediently.

Anna awoke with a start to find a hand covering her mouth. She tried to call out, to scream, but the hand stifled any sound other than a noise in her throat. She flailed
wildly, clutching at her assailant, trying to wrestle him off her.

‘Shut up, you idiot. It’s only me.’ Bruce’s voice came out of the blackness. ‘If you don’t make a noise I’ll take my hand away.’

Alcohol fumes were wafting in her face, making her feel sick. She stopped struggling and lay quiescent. Slowly Bruce removed his hand and she breathed more easily. ‘What do you think
you’re doing?’ she hissed angrily, but kept her voice low. She had no more wish to wake her mother and Douglas than he had.

Bruce was pulling at the bedclothes, trying to climb in beside her. ‘No!’ she cried. ‘Don’t! Go away. Go back to your own bed – you’re not getting in
here.’ Her voice rose in fear.

At once his hand was clamped back on her mouth. And then, suddenly, she felt something cold and sharp against her neck. ‘Shut up,’ he slurred. ‘Just lie back and enjoy it. You
know you want it.’

No, no
, her mind screamed, but she was unable to utter more than a guttural noise.

‘Lie still and stop struggling, or you’ll get what that blasted dog of yours got.’

Now her eyes were becoming accustomed to the gloom. In the moonlight she could see his shape above her, but not his features. Buster? What had he done to Buster? She thrashed her head from side
to side, tried to hit him, but now he was pinning her down, his whole body weight on top of her.

Anna tried to resist him, tried to throw him off, but he was too heavy, too strong. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t summon up an ounce of strength now. Then she managed to get her
left hand free and she tried to claw away his hand, but her fingers touched the cold thin thing that he was still holding against her neck. She winced as pain shot through two of her fingers. And
then, in her mind’s eye, she saw the bayonet he had shown her that day down by the river. Bruce was holding the long, sharp blade close to her throat and threatening to do to her what he had
done to her dog.
Oh Buster, Buster! Where are you? What has he done to you?

Bruce was flinging the bedclothes off her now and pulling up her nightgown. Then he was lying on top of her once more and she could feel his nakedness next to her trembling skin. Then, with his
knees, he spread her legs wide and thrust himself into her. She felt a searing pain and tried to cry out. His fingers, still pressing on her mouth, slipped between her teeth and she bit down hard.
He gave a yelp and reared up above her. He raised his hand and dealt her a blow across the side of her face that almost knocked her senseless.

But she was still aware of the pain in her groin that went on and on as he rutted like a ram at a ewe.

She must have blacked out completely for when she became aware of the pain once more he was gone. She was lying uncovered on her bed, shivering and weeping uncontrollably.
Stiffly, feeling as if she had been battered, Anna crawled off the bed and lurched to the dressing table. With shaking fingers she managed to light a candle. She held it up and looked down at
herself in horror. There was blood everywhere, on her nightie and on the bed. Most of it seemed to be coming from the deep cuts on her fingers. Sobbing, she pulled open a drawer and found a
handkerchief to bind round her hand.

Aching in every part of her body and bent almost double, she shuffled to the door. She was about to open it and call for her mother when she realized that Bruce could be still out there –
waiting for her. Instead, she dragged a chair across to the door and wedged it under the door handle. Then she staggered to the washstand and, setting the candle down, poured cold water into the
bowl. She washed herself between her legs, trying to cleanse away the stickiness and the smell of him. She scrubbed herself until she was sore, but however hard she tried she could never wash away
what Bruce had done to her.

Anna lay huddled in her bed for the rest of the night, alternately sobbing and falling into nightmarish sleep, only to wake with a start, imagining his weight on top of her and breaking into a
cold sweat of fear and loathing. As dawn filtered into her room, she hauled herself off the bed and staggered towards the full-length mirror in the door of her wardrobe. A pathetic sight met her
eyes. The left side of her face was swollen, her eye almost closed. Blood spattered her nightdress and drenched the handkerchief around her fingers. Bruises on her arms and legs pained her, but the
worst pain was the dreadful soreness between her legs and in her groin.

Once more she tried to wash herself, whimpering like a whipped animal. It was time to get up, to start the day. She should be downstairs by now in the kitchen, stoking up the fire in the range,
getting the breakfast . . . But Anna could not bring herself to leave her room. She lay on the bed again, her knees drawn up to her chin, arms wrapped around herself, shivering and cowering in fear
as she heard footsteps hurrying along the landing and stopping outside her door . . .

When May opened the kitchen door, she looked round in surprise. No cheerful fire burned in the range’s grate. There were no breakfast dishes on the table, no smell of
frying bacon. The room was cold and empty. She crossed to the back door and opened it. She stood listening. From across the yard she could hear clattering in the cowhouse. Morning milking was under
way. She turned back, pulled on a pair of wellingtons that stood in the scullery and crossed the yard.

Resting her arms on the lower half of the stable door, she called, ‘Morning, Jed. Is Anna here?’

Jed glanced up from his place beside a cow. May was startled by the look on his face. The young man was unusually pale and there was distress in his eyes and a tightness round his usually
laughing mouth. He rose, put the bucket of milk at a safe distance from the cow’s restless feet and came towards her. As he came closer, she could see that his left eye was half-closed and an
ugly bruise was swelling around it. His lower lip was cut.

‘Whatever—?’ she began but Jed interrupted, ‘I haven’t seen her, but I need to as soon as I can. I knocked on the back door earlier, but there didn’t seem to
be anyone about. I thought she – she’d maybe slept late.’ His mouth seemed to tighten even more. ‘I thought mebbe she – she’s with him.’

He made no effort to hide the resentment in his tone.

May stared at him. Trembling, she asked, ‘What – what do you mean, Jed? With him?’

He sighed and then said, ‘We had a stupid bet on last night. Him and me – that we could drink each other under the table. Well, it got a bit nasty. He was saying things about Anna
– things I didn’t like and then we got into a fight.’

‘Over Anna?’

Jed lowered his head and mumbled, ‘Well, yes.’

‘Is that why you wanted to see her?’

Jed shook his head, his eyes sad. ‘It wasn’t to do with that. I’ve found Buster.’

May smiled. ‘Oh, she will be pleased. She was worried last night. He’d run off and . . .’ Her voice faded as she realized that Jed’s expression was grim. Her hand
fluttered to her throat. ‘What? What is it?’

‘He’s been killed. Someone’s – knifed him.’

‘Killed?’ May’s voice was a squeak.

Jed nodded. ‘Yes. It looks like he’s been stabbed,’ he said slowly, his dark gaze fastened on May’s face.

May gave a little cry of alarm. ‘Oh no!’ she breathed.

No words were needed. They were both remembering the result of the post-mortem on Luke Clayton.

Killed by person or persons unknown, stabbed with a knife or similar weapon.

‘I must go and find her,’ May whispered. She stumbled away, back across the yard and into the house.

Wrenching off her boots, she ran through the kitchen, up the stairs and along the landing. Outside Anna’s room, she paused a moment to catch her breath, leaning against the door jamb. Then
she tried the doorknob. It turned, but the door would not open.

‘Anna,’ she cried, hammering on the wood. ‘Anna, open the door.’

Anna heard her name being called as if from a distance. Then she became aware of a banging on her bedroom door. For a moment she cowered lower beneath the bedcovers, but then,
as the voice penetrated her distraught mind, she realized.

‘Mam! Oh, Mam.’ She struggled off the bed and stumbled across the room, pulling away the chair so that the door opened at once and May almost fell into the room.

‘Anna, what—?’ May began, but as she saw the state of her daughter, she staggered and would have fallen had not Anna reached out and caught hold of her. They clung together
until May led her gently to the bed and made her sit down.

‘The door,’ Anna whispered hoarsely. ‘Shut the door.’

May did so, once more inserting the chair under the knob as Anna had done. Only then did Anna breathe more easily. May came and sat beside her and enfolded her in her embrace, rocking her to and
fro like a small child. ‘Oh, my darling, what have I done? What
have
I done?’

Anna lifted her tear-streaked face to look into her mother’s. ‘It’s not your fault.’

Tears were running down May’s face too now. ‘It is. It is. If I had only listened to your grandfather. He knew, didn’t he? He could see what they were like.’

‘What – what do you mean?’ Anna asked huskily. ‘They?’

‘Bruce did this to you, didn’t he?’

Anna nodded.

‘Did he – I mean—?’

Anna squeezed her eyes tightly shut, trying to blot out the nightmare. She nodded. ‘He held a knife to my throat.’ She held out her hand, still with its rough, blood-soaked wrapping.
‘I – I tried to fight him off, but I cut my fingers on the – the blade.’

Her mother gave a deep-throated groan of despair. ‘Oh, my darling, my baby.’ They clung to each other, seeking solace, but there was none they could give each other.

‘What did you mean when you said Grandpa knew what “they” were like?’ A little later, when they had hugged each other and tried to reassure each other,
Anna was calmer.

Silently, May drew back from her and pulled up the sleeves of her blouse. Anna gasped as she saw the bruises on her mother’s forearms, one purple, a recent injury, and two now yellow and
fading.

Anna gasped. ‘He – he hits you? Douglas?’

May nodded. ‘When something doesn’t suit him.’

‘I knew there was something wrong. I knew it. But I could never seem to get you alone to talk to you. He always seemed to be in the way.’