The Forgotten Cottage (13 page)

Annie was frantic. The woman in white had lived in their house a long, long time ago. She knew that now and she also knew the reason why the men had been chasing her. Horrified and powerless to do anything to stop it, she had watched as the two cute boys and their grandmother had been taken ill. Annie felt her heart break in two at the sight of them crying in pain. Then it began once more as she found herself in the usual position—staring from her bedroom window, listening to the chanting men and snarling dogs that were coming for her. This time they had caught up with her because Annie had felt the rough rope which had been looped around her neck, the other end thrown across the beam of the porch of her house. The woman had been struggling to get the rope off her neck as three men had taken the end of it and hoisted her up from the ground, chanting over and over again: ‘Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.’ Her hands had been clawing at the rope, which was biting into the soft flesh of her neck and she’d frantically tried to loosen its grip around her with her nails, which hadn’t made one bit of difference. Knowing there was nothing she could do, she had stopped struggling and looked across at the men who were gathered in her own front garden. The man whose family the woman had killed was standing at the back of the crowd, his face a mask of horror. The woman had smiled at them all—she hadn’t been a witch, just a woman who had wanted her man and no one to get in her way.

Will, whose heart was racing, kept talking to her. ‘Annie, it’s okay. You’re in hospital…open your eyes.’

Her head tilted back and she opened both of her eyes wide with fright. She stared at Will for a minute and he felt his blood run cold. Did she even know who he was? And then she blinked a couple of times and looked at him again. He had hold of her arm, stroking it to calm her down. Her breathing began to slow and she relaxed. She smiled and he felt his heart jump for joy. Thank God she recognised him. The nurses pushed him to the side and began to check her heart rate and blood pressure, talking to her and asking her questions the whole time. Will stood back and for the first time since he’d walked through the hospital doors three days ago felt his whole body relax. His hands, which had been in tight fists, uncurled and he wanted to hold her more than anything but he could wait another five minutes. One of the nurses went to bleep the on-call doctor and Annie turned her head to look at Will. Her voice hoarse, she whispered, ‘Hi.’

And it was the best sound he’d ever heard. He leant down and kissed her tenderly on the cheek. She pointed to the jug of water on the bedside table and he poured a small amount into one of the glasses and sat on the bed next to her. She lifted her hand to take it off him but it was trembling so he held it for her and lifted it to her lips, where she took a small sip then laid her head back against the pillow and nodded.

‘I had the most terrible nightmare.’

‘Good, because I think it woke you up.’

‘How long have I been in here?’

‘Three days—three very long days.’

She squeezed her eyes shut and the memories of the woman in white running through the woods being chased filled her mind.

‘Did I run someone over? I must have hit her. She was standing in the middle of the road.’

Will shook his head. ‘No, you didn’t.’

‘A woman—well, she was only a young woman, about twenty. She had long dark hair and the clearest pale blue eyes I’ve ever seen. She was running through the trees and I kept seeing her, then I rounded the bend and she was in the middle of the road. I slammed my brakes on and turned the wheel; I was sure I’d hit her.’

‘No, you didn’t hit anyone…well, except a bloody huge tree and that didn’t do too badly. Your car didn’t fare too well, though.’

She shook her head. ‘Are you sure I never hit her, Will? She would be dead if I did. Did they check the fields near to where I was to see if her body had been thrown over the hedge by the impact? It happens—I went to an accident years ago and we missed one of the wounded passengers because they’d been thrown so far from the car.’

‘Annie, I promise you never hit anyone, just the tree.’

Annie felt Will’s warm hand take hold of hers and felt the mattress go down as he sat on the bed next to her. She didn’t open her eyes, feeling sad for the family the woman had murdered horrifically, but she did squeeze his hand so he knew she was okay and he gently squeezed back. She had to find out who the woman was. The men had been chanting that she was a witch but that hadn’t been true, although she was a cold-blooded killer. When she was out of here she would do some research. By the look of the cottage and what they had all been wearing it would have been a couple of hundred years ago.

Her head was pounding and she felt as if she wanted to drink the full jug of water down in one go and she was tired—so tired, even though she’d been asleep for three days. The doctor came across to her bed and began to examine her and she let him get on with it, answering his questions as best she could. After thirty minutes he left with the nurse and Annie looked at Will.

‘Take me home; I’ve had enough of this place.’

He laughed. ‘Now there is nothing in this world that I want more than to take you home with me because our bed is so cold without you tossing and turning all night long, but I want you to be well enough to go home.’

She tutted. ‘Well, regardless of how I am tomorrow, if you don’t take me home I’m not speaking to you ever again. But I’m too tired now to argue.’

‘I’m so glad you’re back. I’ll let you get some rest and I’ll be back first thing in the morning to rescue you.’

She opened one eye. ‘You better had, Will; you know how much I hate hospitals.’

He bent down and kissed her dry, cracked lips. ‘I love you, Annie Graham; try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone.’

‘For once I’m too tired. I love you too, Will.’

He turned and walked out of the unit and waved at her but she was already asleep. Taking out his phone, he began to text Jake then Lily and finally Kav, her old Sergeant and friend, who had been up every day to check on her. Then he was going home for a large glass of Jack Daniels, a long soak in the bath and a shave. He walked along the corridor, his feet automatically guiding him without needing to look up from his phone, along the passage that led to the Accident and Emergency Department and through the sliding glass doors which led outside. He walked straight into a woman and lifted his head to apologise, surprised to see Amelia.

‘Oh, it’s you, sorry about that. Is everything okay?’

‘Yes, thanks. I’ve been to visit my neighbour, who had a fall, and then I went down to my car and it won’t start and my phone has died. I was just going to use the payphone.’

‘Do you want me to take a look at it? I’m not a mechanic but I know a little bit. You might have a loose cable or need a jump-start.’

‘Would you mind? That would be great.’

Will, who was so happy he would have driven her back to wherever it was she lived, nodded. He followed her out of the entrance to the hospital and along past the Maternity Unit to the steep steps which led down to the car park at the bottom of the hospital. It was dark along here, with only a couple of lights working that kept flickering. As they reached the bottom step she led him across the car park to the darkest corner.

‘I hope you have a torch in your car because it will be a struggle to see what’s what. I know everyone’s skint but surely the hospital can afford to buy some light bulbs. This is ridiculous—it’s an accident waiting to happen.’

Amelia agreed with him and led him to her car; she opened the door and pulled the catch to release the bonnet. Will lifted it, turning the flashlight on his phone on and shining it in the direction of the engine. He began to fiddle with some wires. As he turned to tell Amelia to try the engine, he felt a massive crack against the side of his skull and his knees gave way as he lost consciousness.

1782

The walk home to their farmhouse was not a pleasant one for Joe and Mary, even though it wasn’t far away from Joss’s cottage. Mary stopped every couple of minutes, doubled over with cramps in her stomach, and Joe, who was also feeling ill, was trying his best to support his wife and keep standing upright. He was feeling dizzy, his sweat felt cold and clammy yet he felt as if he was on fire. He didn’t tell Mary he felt so ill because she was so poorly herself. They managed to shuffle towards the gate of the farmhouse and then Mary began to cough, racking her lungs, and when she lifted her head Joe was frightened to see blood running down her chin. Her lips were bright red and there was blood frothing from them.

‘Come on, Mary, we best get you into bed and then I will call out the doctor.’

Mary, who would normally shoo him away, nodded and then carried on shuffling towards the front door of their house. After what seemed like forever they reached the door and Joe had to drag his wife through it and to the stairs. Breathing heavily and on the verge of collapse himself, he helped her upstairs to their bedroom, where she fell onto the bed, not bothering to undress or get under the blankets.

He kissed her feverish forehead. ‘I’m off to get the doctor, Mary. Hold on, lass.’

He stumbled out of the door but, losing his balance, he fell to his knees and began to cough, which hurt his stomach even more. His throat was dry and his head felt as if it was going to explode. He dragged himself up and managed to get downstairs, where he fell onto the floor in front of the fire and could move no more.

The boys were moaning and crying and Joss was getting more worried by the minute; they were so hot to the touch he had never seen anything like it. Betsy was downstairs making cold compresses and trying not to faint. What had she done? She had wanted them to die this afternoon but now she didn’t and she wished with all her heart she could take it back. Joss would be sure to find out it was her who had poisoned his entire family and then he would not want anything to do with her and she would probably hang for her crimes. She began to wash out the pan in which she’d poured the arsenic, scrubbing away every last trace. Then she set about washing the bowls and spoons. A loud thud from upstairs made her drop the bowl she was washing and it cracked into a hundred pieces as it hit the tiled floor. She ran to take up the compresses and was shocked to see Joss on the floor, cradling his son in his arms; he wasn’t moving and was clearly dead. The grief on Joss’s face brought her to her knees and she cried out to him, but he shook his head at her.

‘Get Dr Johnson now, Betsy…he’s not breathing. Please.’

She ran as fast as she could downstairs. If she went for the doctor they would know what she’d done; it would be all over. She didn’t want to get caught and if she went for help they would know what she’d done. Instead of running for help, she went outside to get the heavy spade she used to dig her herb garden and went back inside the house. She knew what she had to do as she crept back up the stairs towards Joss and his boys. She could hear loud sobs coming from the room and knew that the only thing she could do which might save her neck was to kill Joss and then bury all three of them in the garden.

She inched her way along the corridor towards the bedroom and paused at the sight of Joss, who was now holding both his sons in his lap on the floor. He was rocking them back and forwards and sobbing. For a moment she regretted the pain she had caused him but then her sense of self-preservation took over and she crept behind him and raised the spade above his head, bringing it down with such force he didn’t speak a word, just fell to the side with a stream of blood running down his face. Then she turned and ran to the stairs and back outside to the patch of soil she had prepared for the carrots and potatoes. The sun was beginning to set but she began to dig as fast as she could a hole big enough to put all three of them in.

Joss murmured and blinked his eyes. The room was spinning and he felt sick. Something was heavy on him and he looked down to see the lifeless bodies of his sons. He knew then that this was all Betsy’s doing. Why had she not called for the doctor? Instead of that she had hit him with something. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he forced himself to stand up and lifted both boys onto one of the beds. He bent down and kissed them, pulling a blanket over them to keep them warm. He stumbled towards the window and saw Betsy’s hunched up figure digging a hole in the ground and he knew without a doubt it was meant for them. He turned and ran out of the bedroom to the back door of the house; he needed to get some help before she finished digging their grave. He had been so foolish and now he had lost everything. He went out and ran through the orchard until he reached the dry stone wall that bordered the edge of his cottage and the woods. Climbing over it, he then began to run through the woods away from the cottage towards his parents’ house. When he was out of sight of his cottage he ran back onto the road and covered the short distance to the farm. As he reached the gate he saw Dr Johnson coming out with two of the farmhands.

The doctor looked at Joss with concern. ‘Why, Joss, whatever has happened to you?’

‘I need help… My boys…’ He let out a sob so loud it racked his entire body and threatened to undo his composure all over again. ‘My boys are dead and she tried to kill me.’

He walked towards the front door and the doctor, who was a man much older than Joss, stood in front of him.

‘You can’t go in there just yet, Joss.’

‘Why? I need to see my parents.’

‘I’m afraid both your parents are dead.’

Joss felt his knees buckle and he fell to the floor. Both of the men he worked with every day ran to help him up.

‘She’s killed my family, she must have done. We were all eating our tea when both boys fell ill and then my mother. Oh, God, and then she hit me over the head with something and I’ve run out of my house and she’s in the front garden digging a grave. What are we going to do?’

Marcus King, who was a loud, brash man but a hard worker and one of Joss’s friends, looked at him.

‘Betsy Baker, whose mother died a month ago, has killed your entire family. She must be a witch; no mortal woman would kill children. Let’s go and get her, see what she has to say for herself.’