Friendship's Bond (36 page)

‘I don’t recall wearing a pair of bright red trousers.’ Edward’s mouth pursed as he looked at the scarlet design worked into the centre of the rug. ‘Not Daniel’s choice of colour and somehow I don’t see Uncle Joseph wearing that shade to the coal mine. Hmmm.’ His mouth twisted more wryly. ‘Must have been Joshua, I never knew . . .’

‘Uncle Joseph would tan your hide were he here, and don’t you go a thinkin’ I won’t do of the same if you keep on wi’ your cheek; it’ll pay you, Edward Langley, to be rememberin’ y’don’ be too big to ’ave your arse smacked!’

‘Bully.’ Edward laughed, closing Leah into the circle of his arms, but there was no laughter in his eyes when he looked at Ann.

‘Alec often stays a while in the stable before coming into the house. He is probably in there now, I’ll go look.’

Edward answered quickly, ‘You stay here, I’ll go look in the stable.’

‘Y’ shouldn’t fret so much about the lad, it be as Edward said, young ’uns often dawdles, lads especially; they all seems to suffer the same affliction, they just ’ave to stick their noses into everythin’ regardless of what or where.’

‘Normally I would agree,’ Ann answered, ‘but he must have been upset otherwise he would not have left Hill Rise the way he has.’

‘Upset y’says.’ Leah paused in folding her needlework. ‘You surely don’t think Edward’s been upsettin’ of the lad.’

‘No . . . not Mr Langley.’

‘Then who, weren’t nobody else along of Hill Rise.’

‘The newspaper.’ Ann seemed to be searching in her mind. ‘Mr Langley said he left Alec reading the newspaper.’

‘He reads of the paper every night.’

‘You remember shortly after we came to stay in this house Alec read a report of the Russian royal family having been arrested, how upset he was by that?’

‘I thought that to be strange, I knowed Russia be the country he come from but . . . well, the arrestin’ of royalty don’t really reflect on ’im.’

‘Not on him,’ Ann agreed. ‘But what of his parents? We know his mother had a friend who worked in the Peterhof Palace . . . what if Alec’s parents were similarly employed in some other establishment, either royal or government? Alec saw as I did those mounted soldiers shooting and slashing with swords, saw the indiscriminate slaughter of people unable to defend themselves. It had to be treatment such as this on top of hunger and despair that drove the country to rise against the Tsar.’

‘Ar, I can well see that wench but what I don’t see be how ordinary folk such as the lad’s mother an’ father be to blame.’

‘They were not but it is easy to see how they were thought to be. We have read reports, seen newspaper photographs of the storming of the Winter Palace, of the Kremlin in Moscow, and many other royal houses and government buildings being invaded, their residents arrested and even killed. The people attacking them were likely driven to the edge by misery and hunger, fired by the promises of the Bolsheviks saying deposing its rulers and giving the country to the people would put an end to their hardship. They would not stop to enquire who was master and who servant.’

‘Y’ means Alec’s folk might ’ave been killed?’

‘I think that is Alec’s fear.’

‘Poor lad.’ Leah’s slow shake of the head echoed the sympathy in her tone. ‘What wi’ men a’ threatenin’ to kill ’im, an’ illness that seemed like to do the same, he’s suffered enough wi’out havin’ that fear hang over his head.’

‘What happened tonight . . .’ Ann paused, then went on. ‘Could it be Alec read something which upset him so much he simply walked away?’

Leah dropped the folded needlework into the ancient sewing basket and gave an exasperated snort. ‘Hmm, wouldn’t y’know it, the one night we needs look at the
Star
I forgets to buy it! I meant to pick one up after bein’ to see Mary Carter but what wi’ one thing and another it went clear from my ’ead!’

The one thing and another being Thomas Thorpe. The explanation continued silently in Leah’s mind. The man’s fawning, his toadying, it was all a sham, a pretence meant to impress Mary and the others. He had glanced up as he knelt in front of that distraught woman. Thorpe’s eyes had fastened on hers, reading the revulsion there, the fact that nothing of his deception was lost on her, while his own had laughed their reply, ‘There’s naught you can do about it.’

‘Perhaps Mr Langley will be able to tell us what Alec might have read.’

‘Ar wench, p’raps he might.’ Leah let the picture slip away. ‘This be ’im now, maybe the lad’ll be along of ’im.’

The body of the girl had been found. Thomas Thorpe listened to the men grouped outside the chapel.

‘Were Tom Bissell an’ Charlie Tonks found ’er, said as it looked like her’d bin interfered with.’

‘Hey up . . . women ’ere!’

The speaker lowered his voice, saying in a subdued murmur, ‘They said as they found ’er on that waste ground up along of St Peter’s Church. Seems they goes there every now an’ again settin’ their ferrets to the rabbit warrens, that old place be overrun wi’ rabbits an’ a couple o’ them makes for a good dinner.’

‘Y’ said it looked to be the wench’d been interfered with. How come Tom an’ Charlie got that idea, what was—’ The man broke off, his glance going to Thorpe. ‘Sorry Mr Thorpe,’ he said, ‘I shouldn’t ask such wi’ you not bein’ a married man.’

The minister should not be subjected to such indelicate conversation. Discuss it! He could quote them chapter and verse regarding the most intimate secrets of the bedroom, tell them how many times he had tasted what to him, an unmarried man, should be forbidden fruit.

‘No.’ He shook his head, ‘It is best you keep nothing from me, that way I may avoid speaking out of turn when I visit the Clewses.’

‘You speak outta turn!’ Another of the group spoke, ‘I can’t see you a mekin’ of no mistake Mr Thorpe.’

Of course he wouldn’t see any mistake, neither would anybody else; Thomas Thorpe was much too smart for that to happen. One hand traced the sign of the cross over his breast as Thorpe answered gravely, ‘I pray heaven’s guidance as in all things. I would not wish a slip of the tongue to add to the unhappiness of that family, therefore I ask you keep nothing back.’

Glancing first at the women huddled a little way off the man relating the discovery put a few more steps between the two groups, then hunched his head low on his chest as he continued. ‘Tom, he reckoned the clothes were almost ripped off the wench and . . .’ He paused to confirm the women were out of earshot. ‘And the legs was spread wide like her’d been . . . well y’knows what Tom were sayin’.’

‘He were sayin’ some filthy swine raped of ’er.’ A voice harsh with anger voiced the thoughts of every man.

‘The coppers Tom an’ Charlie fetched to the spot d’ain’t say as much.’

‘Wouldn’t need to,’ another answered, ‘the state of the wench’s clothes’d tell that.’

‘That be all well an’ good, but what do the coppers be doin’ about catchin’ the swine? I says we band together an’ go search that heath.’

Search all you like, Thorpe thought. You won’t find him there, in fact you won’t ever find him at all.

‘Coppers ’ave a good idea who the culprit be . . .’

The police had a good idea! His confidence faltered. Could he possibly have overlooked something? But he had suffered the same doubts after killing the man tipped into the Devil’s Pool, and they had proved unfounded. Thorpe breathed deeply. It would be the same this time.

‘Charlie said . . .’

Thorpe forced his attention to the man speaking.

‘Charlie seen afore the coppers took the body away, he seen a necklace around the neck, nuthin’ good mind ya, one o’ them cords with a bit o’ glass on it, the sort them gypsies was toutin’ along of the fair.’

‘So they thinks some gypsy done for ’er?’

‘That be about the size o’ it.’

The police believed the killer to be a gypsy. Thomas Thorpe’s glow of confidence burned again. It was going precisely as he planned.

‘Seems they don’t be the only ones lookin’ for that gyppo,’ the harsh voice piped up again, ‘Arthur Clews also be searchin’ and if he finds the varmint afore the coppers does there won’t be o’ no trial for there won’t be enough of him left to ’ang.’

Either way would suit very well. He masked his sense of triumph with a discreet cough and brought his attention to the women, their group calling quiet goodnights as they began to disperse.

After he had spent a moment with each, sharing with them sympathy for the stricken Clews family, Thorpe watched the last of the congregation walk away from Queen’s Place.

They would never find out. He glanced at the silent darkened chapel. Thomas Thorpe was the Lord’s minister; Thomas Thorpe was heaven’s protected.

He had walked home by way of the heath. While cutting freshly churned butter then weighing each block before setting it on a muslin-lined tray, Ann dwelt on her fear of the night before. Edward Langley had gone to the stable to see if Alec had followed his usual routine of spending some time grooming Leah’s old horse, but had returned alone. She had been determined to look for him, arguing he could have stumbled in the darkness, have turned an ankle and so be unable to walk unaided; or he was lost on the heath, there were no markers there to guide him. She must have gone through a bevy of reasons but in the minutes it had taken to fetch her coat Edward Langley had gone, leaving Leah to tell her to stay in the house; it was enough searching for the lad without having to do the same for her.

Why should she be ruled by Edward Langley! Why abide by what he had said! Leah had heard the mutiny in the words, simply answering quietly that no one was imposing any restriction but it would ease Leah’s own mind if she stayed in the house.

She had watched the clock as she had during the long nights of Alec’s illness here and in Finland, and as then felt the weight of fear for him rest heavy in her heart. He was a boy she knew practically nothing about and yet her protective feelings might have been those of a sister. Ann carried the portions of butter to the cool cupboard, placing them neatly in rows. A sister! She returned to the task of patting and weighing. What would it have been like to have a brother or a sister, sharing with them the dangers she had shared with Alec? Could ties of blood be any stronger than those of friendship?

‘I thought you might care to see this.’

Ann couldn’t repress a swift gasp as she whirled towards the figure standing in the open doorway of the dairy.

Still scared but not for the lad. Edward Langley’s thought seared him as he caught the sigh of relief. That toad Thorpe was what this girl feared. She worried that even after the dire warning he had been given still he might try in any way he could to harm her. Don’t try it, Thorpe! Edward answered his own mind. Not if you want to go on living!

‘It’s last night’s edition of the
Express and Star
.’ He waved the newspaper. ‘But if Alec’s already said what it was sent him off so quick then I’ll put this along of the firewood.’

Alec had made no reference to the newspaper. He had said only that of a sudden he had noticed how late he had left it before setting off back to the house. In order to make up a little of that time he had taken the way of the heath rather than the longer way via the town. But in the darkness he had become confused; it had been Edward’s shrewd guess as to the way he had chosen and by calling his name Edward had probably saved him hours of wandering that empty heath.

Edward Langley had probably saved him from falling down some disused mine shaft! The reprimand had remained unsaid. She had seen unhappiness darkening Alec’s grey-blue eyes, which had swept away her intention to reproach him. So instead she had thanked Edward Langley for his help while Leah had shooed Alec upstairs to his bed.

‘Thank you.’ Ann pushed her thoughts away. ‘Leah and I both like to read the newspaper. Would you put it in the scullery?’ She glanced down at the mound of butter still to be portioned. ‘This has to come first I’m afraid.’

‘A deal of work.’

‘It could be reduced, if the dairy were mine . . .’

‘Which you have already refused.’ Edward completed the half-finished sentence. ‘But supposing this place was yours, how would you cut down on labour?’

She had many times toyed with the idea while working in the dairy, had often wanted to speak of it to Leah but had always held back, not wanting to seem interfering.

‘Well?’ Edward put the folded newspaper in his jacket pocket.

‘I . . .’ Ann hesitated. ‘Leah’s way is best.’

‘Best up to now, but who is to say there’s not a better way waiting to be tried out? C’mon, tell me what you have in mind.’ He smiled. ‘I promise not to tell Leah if you don’t want me to.’

‘It is the patting and weighing.’ Ann paused, butter pats in hand. ‘It is the time it takes as well as the effort and then there is the task of weighing, each portion has to be of exactly the same amount or the customer would soon complain.’

‘And then some!’ Edward chuckled. ‘But I don’t see how to be certain of each being the same unless they are weighed.’

‘They would be if the butter were pressed into individual moulds of precisely the same size. This could be four ounces, eight ounces, even one pound, whichever Leah thought preferable.’