Cherry Tree Lane (26 page)

She went to help Lyddie with the housework, rather than fret around the kitchen, ignoring the maid’s protests that this wasn’t right.

As Jacob carried the bowl of eggs back to his house to wash his hands, a man slipped round the corner of the building. He tensed till he saw it was one of his nearest neighbours.

‘Did you know someone’s been watching the big house and wandering round your place?’ Walter asked.

‘What? Who is he?’

‘Says he’s a cousin of yours, but I ent heard you talk about no cousins.’

‘That’s because I’ve not got any living near here.’

‘Thought as much. I sent him off with a flea in his ear. He has a bicycle hidden down the lane, near the main road. Why would he hide it there if he was coming to see you? And why hasn’t he come out of hiding now you’re here?’

‘Because he isn’t my cousin. Thanks for keeping your eyes open.’

‘If neighbours can’t help one another, who can we rely on?’ He hesitated. ‘Everything all right at the big house?’

Jacob hesitated, then decided to trust a man he’d known all his life. ‘Miss Newington died in the night. We’re waiting for the doctor now. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep the news to yourself for the moment.’

‘Never been one to flap my tongue at the world.’

‘I know.’

There was the sound of a horse in the lane and he spun round, stiffening, ready to rush back to the house. But it was the doctor’s vehicle which came into view. ‘I know you’re busy, but can you find someone to keep an eye on things here? I’ll give them a florin just to stay around the place.’

‘I c’n find someone easy enough. You expectin’ trouble?’

‘Could be. Arthur Newington’s already tried to take over at the big house. Miss Newington didn’t want him there, though. Sent him off with a flea in his ear, ill as she was.’

‘He’s her only relative, ent he?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then he’ll be inheriting.’

‘I’ve heard she’s leaving it to someone else, but I don’t know who. Keep that to yourself as well.’

Walter let out a low whistle of surprise. ‘Let’s hope it’s someone decent. Now, you’d better get back to the big house, Jacob. I’ll see an eye’s kept on your place.’

‘Thanks.’

He was grim-faced as he walked up the lane with the bowl of eggs. If Arthur Newington got hold of the big house, his peace would be over. And probably his livelihood too. Easy enough to damage a field of fruit and vegetables.

Mattie accompanied Dr Crawford up to Miss Newington’s room.

‘You’ve not touched the body?’ he asked.

‘I closed her eyes, that’s all.’

‘You can leave me to my work now. I’ll come down when I’ve finished.’

‘Shall I put a jug of water in the next room for you to wash your hands in afterwards?’

‘Thank you.’

She found Jacob in the kitchen and Cook exclaiming in pleasure over the big bowl of eggs he’d brought.

He turned to Mattie. ‘I see the doctor’s here.’

‘Yes. I’m just going to take him up a jug of water to wash in afterwards.’

‘I can do that, Mrs Kemble,’ Lyddie said.

‘Thank you. Leave it in the room next door with a towel.’

It was half an hour before the doctor came down, by which time Jacob was pacing up and down the hall and Mattie was sitting watching her husband through the open door of the small sitting room. She liked this room best of any to sit in. How lucky people like Miss Newington were to have such space and comfort. Until she ran away from home, Mattie had never even had her own bedroom.

When she heard footsteps, she went to the doorway.

Dr Crawford came quickly down the stairs like a man half his age. ‘I’d appreciate a cup of tea, if it’s not too much trouble.’

Mattie nodded and for the first time ever rang the bell for Lyddie, because she didn’t want to miss what the doctor said.

He waited till she’d sat down before taking a chair himself. ‘It was as I’d expected. She died of natural causes, and I’d guess from the peaceful look on her face that she felt no pain.’

‘She didn’t,’ Mattie said quietly, and explained what she’d seen.

‘I’ve written out the death certificate and shall send it to her lawyer. He’s going to arrange the funeral.’

‘He’s coming here today,’ Jacob said. ‘Do you want me to give the certificate to him?’

‘No. Better for me to do that. If I meet him on the way back, I’ll stop him and hand it over.’

‘Can I lay her out now?’ Mattie asked.

‘You could leave that to the funeral company. No doubt her lawyer will let them know they’re needed.’

‘I don’t want to wait and leave her in a mess. I’ve laid people out before and I know what to do. We always helped one another in our street.’

‘Then I’ll leave you to it.’

The house seemed quiet since the doctor left, with nothing for them to do except wait. But it was an uneasy silence, as if a storm was threatening. Jacob went down to work on his plants, nodding to a youth he found sitting outside his back door, with a thin, alert-looking dog by his side.

‘No trouble?’

‘No,’ the lad said. ‘Easiest money I ever earned, this. Any trouble and I’ll send Rover home. Dad’ll know to come running.’

‘Can’t be too careful,’ Jacob said. ‘So stay alert.’

There it was again, he thought as he put in an hour’s work. Friends looking after one another.

He took care of what was urgent but didn’t stay any longer because the lawyer would be coming soon and he didn’t want to be caught all dirty from the garden.

Mr Longley arrived at the big house just before midday, driven again by his friend Sam.

When Jacob heard the motor car in the lane, he abandoned what he was doing, which was pulling up weeds from the garden at the big house. He wasn’t a man to sit still and watch the grass growing where it shouldn’t. Washing his hands hastily under the garden tap and stamping his feet to shake loose any soil, he went back to the house.

He found the two lawyers sitting in the morning room, enjoying a piece of cake and some freshly made scones with Mattie.

They all looked up when he went in.

‘I’ve set a place for you,’ Mattie said. ‘I knew you’d come in once you saw the car.’

‘We’re waiting for the funeral company to bring the coffin and finish laying her out,’ Frank said. ‘She left detailed instructions for her funeral. She wanted her body to lie at rest here, then the will to be read in the drawing room after the funeral. I’m afraid we can’t avoid inviting her family this time, but she wanted you two present at the reading of the will as well.’

‘What concern is that of ours?’ Jacob asked in surprise.

Mr Longley gave a slight shrug and an apologetic smile. ‘I’m just obeying her instructions. Oh, and could you stay on here until the funeral and keep an eye on things? Would you mind?’

‘I can continue working from here easily enough.’ Jacob hesitated. ‘Me and Mattie are worried about what’ll happen to us if Arthur Newington or one of his family takes over the big house. They’d not make easy neighbours.’

All he got in response was another enigmatic smile, which, as he said to Mattie afterwards, was not much help to a man with a business to run and a family to feed.

At three o’clock on Saturday afternoon, the hearse, a modern motor vehicle instead of the oldfashioned carriage drawn by black horses, drove up to the big house. Mattie and the servants went to peer out of the window of the small sitting room.

‘’Tisn’t right to take her to church in a smelly, noisy machine like that,’ Cook grumbled.

Ben laughed softly. ‘It’s the way of the future, so you’d better get used to it. And anyway, the coffin will be in the back, in the glass part. She’ll do just fine there.’

‘I still don’t like them motor cars,’ Cook said defiantly.

‘You’ll learn to put up with ’em, though. Everyone got used to trains in my great-grandma’s time, didn’t they, even though people said they’d frighten the cows and burn the crops? Which they didn’t. Well, they’ll get used to motor cars just the same. And it’ll be a better world for having them, they’re so much quicker than horses and they don’t foul the streets.’

‘We’ve got trains when we need to go anywhere quickly,’ Cook said sourly. ‘And you’d be cheerful if the sky fell in, young Ben.’ She went to glance in the mirror over the fireplace to make sure her best hat was on straight. ‘Just you make sure no one breaks into this house while we’re at church.’ The worries about her appearance settled, she went back to her post by the window.

The hearse was followed by four other motor cars and several village urchins ran up the lane after them, not daring to come right up to the house, but peeping at them from beyond the gates.

‘Look at them kids. They’d love to ride in a car,’ Lyddie said. ‘So would I, come to that. Have you ever rid in one, Cook?’

‘No, and I don’t intend to, neither. We’d better get back to the kitchen now, don’t you think, Mrs Kemble? The guests will be coming inside soon.’

Mattie nodded and as she went through the servants’ door at the back of the hall, glanced back to see that Mr Longley was the first to enter the house. He’d brought his wife with him and beckoned to Mattie.

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Mrs Longley asked, after the two women had been introduced.

She had such a friendly smile, Mattie didn’t feel offended. ‘Not really. Cook is very capable. We’ve plenty of food for the mourners when they get back from church. It’s set out in the morning room. Come and look at it, tell me if it’s all right.’

Mrs Longley studied the table. ‘There’s more than enough and you’ve set it out beautifully.’

‘It’s Cook who did that. My husband found some port wine in the cellar.’ She pointed to the decanter on the sideboard. Not that she’d be drinking it. She’d never had a glass of wine in her life and although she’d tasted beer once or twice, she didn’t really like it. Give her a freshly brewed cup of tea any day.

‘The Newingtons are coming into the house,’ Mr Longley called. ‘We’d better go and greet them, my dear.’

‘I’ll wait in the kitchen with the others.’ Mattie hurried off.

Lyddie stationed herself at the partly open door to the kitchen area and kept up a running commentary for the others.

‘Mr Arthur looks in a bad mood again. He’s got his wife with him, ooh, and his son and daughter-in-law, but his daughter isn’t there. They’re all wearing black.’

So were the servants. Mattie had had to do some quick alterations on another of the dresses from the attic to make sure she was decently clad. It was tacked together loosely in parts and she was praying the stitches would hold.

She wished today was over, wished they knew who would inherit this house, knew Jacob was worrying about that too, however much he pretended to be cheerful. He was outside now, talking to the young men who were still helping keep an eye on the house. She kept looking out of the window at him, thinking how attractive he was, how lucky she was to have met him.

She saw Lyddie watching her and felt herself flushing. The young maid gave her a knowing, but friendly smile, as if she’d guessed what she was thinking.

Did her feelings for Jacob show so clearly, then? Mattie wondered. She’d grown fond of him so quickly.

In the hall, Frank took on the role of host, which immediately set Arthur’s back up.

‘I’d have thought it’d be for me, as Emily’s closest relative, to receive the guests today,’ he said in his overloud voice.

Frank kept a smile pinned to his face. ‘My client left very clear instructions for the funeral. I can show you them if you wish. Perhaps you’d like to go into the drawing room?’

Arthur’s wife tugged his arm and he moved on, still grumbling. His son followed, saying nothing and ignoring the lawyer’s outstretched hand. His daughter-in-law didn’t trouble to hide her boredom and disinterest.

Their wealth and comfortable lifestyle clearly didn’t make these people happy, Frank thought.

Although he’d not been invited, the magistrate walked into the house, his eyes challenging the lawyer to try to deny him entrance.

‘Mr Ransome. What a pleasant surprise to see you here.’

‘Newington invited me.’

Well, both of you are in for a few shocks today, Frank thought, but said only, ‘Through there, please.’

In the drawing room, the Newingtons sat with Ransome, looking down their noses at the Longleys and Sam Painton.

The ones who really cared about Miss Newington are in the kitchen, Frank thought. These people care only about her will.

‘Is there to be a viewing of the body?’ Mrs Newington asked unexpectedly.

‘No. My client didn’t wish for that.’

She let out a huff of displeasure and said no more.

When the coffin, which had been lying on the big dining-room table, had been carried outside, everyone got back into their vehicles to be driven in state the half mile to the village church.

The Kembles followed the gentry in the dog cart, driven by Horace and accompanied by Cook and Lyddie. It was a bit of a squash, but Sarah sat on her father’s knee and Luke squeezed into the last six inches of the bench seat, sitting sideways.

Both children were very quiet today, Mattie thought. They’re probably overawed by the company and the circumstances.

And so am I. But she held her chin up and tried not to let her nervousness show.

At the church Jacob took his place near the hearse with the other pall-bearers, all of them men from the village except for Mr Longley. This left Mattie to take the children in, so she slipped into the church with the servants and they found seats at the rear. The place was crowded with villagers paying their respects.

But just as she was settling down, Mr Painton came to the rear of the church and stopped at the end of their pew. ‘Places have been saved for you and your husband next to us, Mrs Kemble.’

Mattie looked at him in shock. ‘There’s no need for that, sir. We’ll be quite comfortable here.’