The Pershore Poisoners

KERRY TOMBS

To Joan, Samuel and Zoe

For all their support and encouragement over the years

Arrived in Pershore this afternoon by the early coach from Oxford. Quite why I have come to this place, I cannot really comprehend. The coach stopped to change horses at the Angel, and as I had little inclination, or desire, to continue the journey to Worcester, I enquired whether they had rooms to let, and have taken one at the front of the building for a few days. Since the death of my poor, beloved Albert it is as if my life has come to an end. Hardly a day goes by when I do not think of how our lives would have been so complete together, but it was not to be. Oh, why did Albert have to go to India? To die in an unknown foreign land, and to leave me so bereft is cruel! Now I am alone, and know not what I am to do with the remainder of my poor life.

Did not really want to leave my hotel room this morning and had no desire to venture out and explore the town. They say Pershore is a pretty place with some fine buildings, and an abbey of some importance, but although I can see signs of life in the town square from my bedroom window, it fails to attract me. Just lay on the bed all day thinking of my dear Albert, and what our lives might have been.

My chambermaid, a young whimsical kind of girl, could not understand why I had no desire to venture out to explore the town. I explained to her that I had not been well, and that all I desired was complete rest and to be left alone with my thoughts. I do wish that these people would not seek to impose their desires upon one.

Have visited the ancient abbey at last. I was not sure that I wanted to leave the sanctuary of my room; I am content with my own company and require no other, but the maid spoke of it again, and gave me an odd look, so I gave in rather than have people think I am strange, or mad!

And what a fine building it is! I stood outside for some minutes not knowing whether I should venture inside. The choir boys were singing Evensong when I entered, and for a moment as I stood there it seemed that everything in my past life had slipped away. And then a strange thing happened. As I turned to leave I accidentally dropped my umbrella on the floor, and before I could bend down to recover it, I found that another had retrieved it for me. A tall, thin gentleman, dressed entirely in black, smiled briefly as he bowed and handed the umbrella back to me. I thanked him, and was about to move away when he enquired whether we had met before. I told him that we had not. Then he said he thought he had seen me the other night in the dining room of my hotel, and yes it appears that he is a guest at the same establishment. He then apologized for his intrusion and quickly made his way out of the building. What a peculiar thing to have happened.

After writing those words yesterday I had quite expected to see the mysterious stranger at dinner that evening, but it was not to be. And then this morning as I walked along the main street of the town whom should I see coming towards me but the same gentleman I had encountered in the abbey yesterday afternoon! We exchanged a few words of recognition. I asked if he was still resident at the hotel as I had not seen him at dinner the previous evening, to which he replied
that he had been called away on urgent business, which had prevented him from dining there – and then he asked me if I would care to dine with him that evening, seeing as we were both staying at the same hotel. I considered this suggestion rather improper, especially as we had only met once before, and anyway I had no desire to converse with anyone at the present, and so I declined his invitation.

Encountered my stranger again this morning who was standing outside the hotel when I walked out. Most apologetic for his behaviour yesterday. Had not wished to cause any offence. I told him that none had been taken. Then he asked if I might assist him in a task which he was about to undertake. It seems that an aunt of his had written to him that very day asking him to purchase some lace handkerchiefs for her, and that he was quite at a loss as to what he should choose, and that if I could possibly advise him in any way regarding this purchase, he would be eternally in my debt. I was so taken aback by this unexpected demand that my first inclination was to refuse, and quickly make my way back inside the hotel, but he looked so sad and seemed so much at a loss, that I could not refuse, and so it was that we visited one or two of the local shops in an attempt to complete his errand. I must say that I have never been asked by a stranger before to assist him in such a manner! Thirty minutes later the deed had been done. My stranger introduced himself as a Captain Quinton. He thanked me most profusely for my assistance and helpful advice, and then we went our own separate ways. What an unusual thing to have happened!

No sign of Captain Quinton today! I’m somewhat relieved.

I was on my way into dinner tonight when whom should I encounter, but Captain Quinton. He said that he had sent the lace handkerchiefs to his aunt, who had just written to say how pleased she was with them. He was most grateful for my guidance, and said that he would be extremely grateful, and how could he possibly repay me for such kindness? I told him that I had been pleased to be of assistance to him, and that there was no need for him to repay me. However he was most insistent that he would like to be of service to me. He said that he intended visiting the nearby town of Ledbury the next day, and that if I would care to accompany him on this excursion I would be most welcome. Well I was taken aback by this proposal, but he looked so sad that it seemed churlish to refuse. Now that I have written these words I am beginning to regret my hasty decision. Perhaps I will send a message in the morning to say I am unwell.

Well, in the event I did not send that message and have just returned from a wonderful day’s excursion to Ledbury. Captain Quinton had hired a chaise, no less, complete with groom. The weather was fine, warm sunshine with a gentle breeze, but not unpleasantly hot. Ledbury is a fine town indeed, with some old buildings and an interesting ancient market place.

We walked up a narrow cobbled street to view the church, where a local guide showed us around the building, pointing out all the interesting features. Then Captain Quinton said that we should partake of some refreshment at one of the local inns. Although it was such a pleasant occasion, poor Captain Quinton came over suddenly quite sad, and at one point I almost thought that he was going to cry.
I must say that I felt very uneasy, and wished that I had not been so bold as to have undertaken such an excursion with a gentleman who was so unknown to me. Then the captain apologized for his unhappy state. It appears that poor Captain Quinton’s wife died of smallpox the previous year, and that he has been left quite alone in the world – this day had been the first day in which he had obtained some relief from his unhappy state. He hoped I would understand. I explained to him that I too had recently lost someone who had been close to me. It seems that we had both come to Pershore to seek some relief from the situations in which we had found ourselves. We are like two little orphans who have lost our way. Poor Captain Quinton. As we drove back to Pershore, he said very little, and I must say that I was quite relieved when we returned to the hotel.

I lay in bed last night going over the events of the day, and it must have been three in the morning before I finally went to sleep. Upon coming downstairs this morning the first person I met in the hallway was Captain Quinton, who appeared to be in quite an agitated condition. He was most insistent that we breakfast together, and once we had been seated, he apologized ernestly for his behaviour yesterday. He had not wanted to burden me with the news of his wife’s death. I told him that I quite understood, and that I had not been offended in any way by his conduct. With this he seemed quite satisfied. Then he suggested that there was a performance of
The Messiah
that evening in the abbey and he would be honoured if I would accompany him.

Have just returned from the abbey. What a wonderful evening.
The Messiah
has always been one of my favourite choral works and all the performers gave a spirited
rendition. Then whilst we were taking some refreshment in the interval, Captain Quinton told me of his former military career, and it seems that both the captain and my beloved Albert were both members of the same regiment in India. What an amazing coincidence! I was quite taken aback, and the more that Captain Quinton talked of his army days, the more it seemed that he was bringing me ever closer to Albert.

Captain Quinton, or Charles as he now insists on my addressing him, took me to see the scenery at Symonds Yat today. What a beautiful landscape! As I looked down into the valley at the meandering river, I believed that today was the first day this year that I had been truly happy. Afterwards we partook of some refreshment in Ross-on-Wye, a most agreeable town. The journey back to Pershore was quite charming. Charles is becoming a most pleasant companion, and it seems that my presence has also bought some respite from his suffering.

Almost five days since my last entry! I have been so occupied accompanying dear Charles on a number of excursions to Worcester and Malvern, and dining out each evening, that I have not had time to take up my pen. I could not believe that life could be so pleasant once more. At Malvern we hired some donkeys at St Ann’s Well which took us up the steep winding paths to the very top of the Beacon, from where we looked down on all the countryside for miles around.

I must say that I am growing quite fond of Charles, and enjoy his company more and more. He is quite handsome in
appearance, and is always immaculately dressed, and never without a flower in the buttonhole of his coat.

I am in a complete state of uncertainty and disarray! This evening over dinner, Charles announced that he had to return to London the following afternoon. Apparently he has a number of business affairs there that require his most urgent attention, and he does not believe that he will return to Pershore for quite a long time. I became very sad on hearing this news – then quite suddenly he grasped my hand, and proposed to me! I was absolutely taken aback!

He said that after his wife had died he had come to believe that he would never find true happiness again, but that during these past days I had bought such joy into his life that he could not bear it if we were to go our separate ways. Seeing that I was startled by his announcement, he apologized if he had been forward in expressing his feelings, and he quite understood if I would like some time to consider his proposal and give him my answer tomorrow.

Oh dear, what am I to do? I have enjoyed Charles’s company so much over these days, and the thought of his leaving the day after next, and my never seeing him again, is too much to bear. I believe we could make each other so happy. We are both alone in this world. But what am I to do? To accept his offer would be a kind of betrayal of the love I once had for dear Albert. No, I must decline his offer – and that will be an end to it.

Captain Quinton and I are engaged to be married!!!!

I had quite made up my mind to refuse him this morning, but when I saw him striding up and down the
hall and looking so anxious and forlorn, my heart went out to him, and I knew then that if we were to go our separate ways we would be denying ourselves true happiness.

Charles then held me quite close, and said that this day would be the first of many days filled with such warmth and light.

As he has to leave later today, he asked whether I would accompany him to London, where we may be married as soon as possible. How can I explain my joy?

I cannot believe that two weeks have gone by since my last entry, but my life has been so eventful and filled with such love and happiness that to put pen to paper would have seemed an intrusion.

I am now Mrs Quinton! Charles and I were married at a little church in Pimlico, where we have secured rooms in one of the most delightful Georgian houses in one of the squares, overlooking a small pleasant garden. I have been quite busy buying things for our home, and seeing that everything is just right for when Charles returns from the City every evening. Charles has engaged a maid to see to our every need. She is called Rachel. I shall be quite spoiled. I have never been so happy. I believe we are quite content.

Awoke yesterday evening with a terrible pain inside my stomach, and being violently sick. Charles was most attentive, and called for the doctor. It seems I have eaten something which has proved disagreeable to me. Doctor Cranford has prescribed some medicines for me, and instructs me to only eat a little gruel until I am better. Was feeling much better this afternoon to write these words.

Feeling much improved today. Charles says I must stay in bed for a day or so until I am completely well. The dear man, he is such a comfort to me.

Today was the first day that I have ventured out since my illness. We walked down to the river and sat in the little park there enjoying the warm sunshine and admiring the views.

I asked Charles this morning why we have not entertained. Surely there must be some friends of his he would care to invite for dinner one evening? Charles replied that all his friends were away, at present, in the country, but that he would invite them next month upon their return. It is certainly strange that no one ever calls upon us.

Have not been able to write for several days due to the return of my illness – suffered acute pains and was violently sick again. Charles said he would move into the spare bedroom, so that I might obtain as much rest as possible. My darling is most attentive. Upon his return from the city in the evenings, he insists on making some soup or gruel and bringing it up to the bedroom, and then reads to me whilst I consume the liquid. I must confess however that I have little appetite.