The Shadow of the Sycamores (22 page)

‘Aye, you’re right. Thanks.’

He kept on working, hoeing the vegetable garden as if afraid that any weeds he left would engulf the whole place, including him. He barely stopped to take a few bites of the oatcakes and cheese Nora had made up for the men’s dinner pieces and, when the clock on the bell tower struck six, it was with reluctance that he laid past his tools and made his slow way inside.

There was absolute silence in the kitchen, an eerie foreboding silence, warning him that the discovery had been made. With stomach churning, he took a lingering look at the Superintendent. The man was gripping his mouth and his knuckles showed white as he clutched his soup spoon. Not only that, but he never lifted his eyes from his plate – an indication that he had deep, deep thoughts to ponder over. Aye, the man had much to ponder over, Max thought with some satisfaction, moving his gaze to the cook. Mrs Rattray was even more agitated. Her face was scarlet, as if she had taken part in a terrible row – which she probably had. She was likely the only one Ledingham had told. At the moment, he was most likely trying to work out how to go about solving the mystery of his missing wife but his first reaction would have been to let fly at his paramour.

Despite the situation holding the possibility of dire consequences for him, Max felt exhilarated – he had a sense of living on the edge of danger with the challenge of trying to outwit this fiend of a man. Ledingham only toyed with his
food and was first to leave the table, shoving back his chair abruptly and stalking out without a word. Next to go were the nursing staff, who had their charges to get washed and settled for the night, and then, in twos and threes the other men gradually went out. They were obviously bursting with curiosity over what could be going on but were unable to discuss it in front of the cook, who, as they were all well aware, had some hold over the Superintendent and would tell tales to him at the drop of a hat.

Because of their own preoccupations, not one of the others noticed that Max held back – not even Mrs Rattray who darted out abruptly, leaving Nora and Beenie to clear the table and do the dishes.

Max gave a loud, relieved sigh. ‘What’s been happening, Nora?’

She gestured to the scullery maid to close the door and they sat down at the table again. ‘He’s raving mad,’ she reported in triumph. ‘He didna go up right away for he took Mrs Rattray into his sitting room first.’

‘And?’ prompted the young man impatiently.

Little Beenie stepped in now. ‘I took ben a tea tray to them to see if I could hear what they were saying,’ she chuckled. ‘I thought I might catch them having a last canoodle so I just gave a wee tap and opened the door. What a shock I got! He was on top o’ her …’

‘That’s enough, Beenie!’ Nora scowled. ‘You was just being nosy and, any road, you shouldna ken aboot things like that at your age.’

The fourteen-year-old grinned mischievously. ‘I didna ken … but I ken now. He’d her bloomers doon and …’

Having heard enough, Max interrupted her. ‘Well, that’s it. If he ever finds out it was me that got Janet away and reports me to the bobbies, I’ll tell them he married Janet when he was still married to his first wife.’

Nora could see the flaws in this statement, however. ‘They wouldna believe you.’

‘They would if you and Beenie back me up.’

‘No, Max. He’s a Superintendent, she’s supposed to be a respected cook and we’re just skivvies. The police are bound to believe whatever he tells them and it’ll be the worse for us. He can have us arrested and put in the jail.’

‘But they could check up and see …’ Max broke off at a sudden memory. ‘There must be a record of his marriage to Janet in the register here.’

Nora shook her head at his naivety. ‘He could tear that page out, you ken how he is. If he’s desperate, he’ll do anything to save his skin.’

Beenie piped up again. ‘But I’m a witness to what he was doing …’ Looking at both the scowling faces, she offered her last trick. ‘He was … um … fornicating wi’ a wumman that’s nae his wife.’

‘Beenie,’ Max sighed, ‘that’s just the point. Mrs Rattray, as she calls herself,
is
his wife; it’s Janet that’s not legally married to him.’

The girl digested this information, then she, too, sighed. ‘Aye, so she’s nae. It’s her that’s been forn …’

‘Beenie Dickie! Just shut up, would you?’ Nora could stand no more of the scullery maid’s twitterings and turned to the young gardener again. ‘We’ll have to wait and see what happens, Max. We can’t do nothing else.’

‘Aye, you’re right.’ He strode out, shaking his head at their helplessness.

Fay was in a fine state of nerves. Terrified that Innes Ledingham or the police or both would turn up and find Janet in the parlour, she had locked the door the minute Henry left for work. She had also been trying to keep her small son quiet so that their guest could get some much needed rest and the knock on her door at half past ten made her heart jump into her mouth. If she’d had the chance, she would have ignored the summons but little Andrew had already bounded into the tiny porch and was trying to turn the knob so whoever was there would know they weren’t out.

Her hands trembling, she turned the big key in the lock and
edged the door open just enough to find out who was there.

‘What’s wrong, lass?’ Nessie pushed past her. ‘The door still locked at this time o’ the day?’

Trying to prevent her stepmother-in-law from seeing what she wasn’t meant to see, Fay made it all the more evident that she wanted to hide something and Nessie asked again, ‘What’s wrong? What’s going on?’

The ever-helpful Andrew supplied the answer his mother was determined not to give. ‘It’s Auntie Janet!’ he smiled, pointing to the parlour door. ‘She’s in there and she’s not well.’

Nessie turned the familiar name over in her mind. ‘
Auntie
Janet? The cook from The Sycamores?’ She moved swiftly to the other door, opened it a fraction and took a quick glance inside. ‘Aye, Fay,’ she murmured, as she closed the door as silently as she had opened it, ‘I can see she’s ill but why’s she here?’

Having no experience of dealing with a situation of such delicacy, the young woman was at a loss for a moment or so, then, deciding that she may as well tell the truth, she said, ‘Stay here like a good boy, Andrew, till I speak to Grandma.’

She drew Nessie back into the porch and gave the tale as she knew it, answering the woman’s questions with a shrugged, ‘I don’t know anything more.’

With her innate perspicacity, Nessie did manage to fit most of the puzzle together and stood for a moment pondering over it. Then she looked keenly at the younger woman. ‘You’re scared her man’ll come looking for her?’

Fay nodded tearfully. ‘We don’t know what to do and that’s the truth. We can’t let anyone know she’s here and she’s not fit to go up to the Covenanters’ hidey-hole.’

Nessie took over now. ‘Never mind. You make a pot o’ tea and I’ll think and think till I come up with something.’

It was not long until ‘something’ did come up in her mind. ‘If I mind right, Fay,’ she began, ‘you once told me everybody at Craigdownie and The Sycamores knew Henry had a sister here in Ardbirtle.’

‘Yes,’ Fay faltered, wondering what was coming.

‘But nobody knows he has a father here and all?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

Andrew interrupted them now, running through and saying loudly, ‘Auntie Janet’s woke up.’

‘Good!’ Nessie was in the parlour before the other two realised what was happening. ‘I’m sorry to come in on you like this, Janet,’ she said, softly, ‘but did you know Henry’s father bade here in Ardbirtle?’

Janet shook her head weakly, not understanding the reason behind the question. ‘No, Henry never spoke about his father.’

Nessie beamed happily. ‘Well, that’s the answer! Willie’s got a four-wheeler in just now, something wrong wi’ the axle, so I’ll go and tell him to get it ready as quick as he can and come and collect Janet.’

‘But she’s not fit to …’ Fay pointed out.

‘Ach, Willie’ll easy lift her. She’s nothing but skin and bone.’ Nessie sailed out, a ship on the high seas ready for anything the elements would throw at her.

Fay looked at Janet now. ‘I’m sorry. That was Henry’s stepmother and she’s one of those people who won’t take no for an answer.’

‘She’s a good woman, though, that’s clear.’

Fortunately for Fay, her baby daughter woke up at that point, late for her ten o’clock feed and letting them know, loudly and clearly, that she was ready for it. The waiting time was, therefore, taken up by the changing, the feeding and a little cuddling.

Andrew, tearing himself away from this fascinating sight, suddenly rushed over to the window. ‘A cart, a cart!’ he cried and in the next breath, ‘Granda, Granda!’

Willie strode in, followed by Nessie who demanded, ‘Have you got all her things ready?’

‘She didn’t have any things,’ Fay murmured.

‘Just my coat,’ Janet reminded her.

‘We don’t want anybody to see her,’ Fay pointed out so Nessie went to the door to watch for the right moment.

‘Excuse me, Janet,’ Willie said softly and he rolled her inside
the blankets, making sure that every inch of her was covered, then scooped her up in his brawny arms as if she were a bag of feathers.

‘Now,’ ordered Nessie and out he went with his precious cargo and swung her up to Nessie who had already jumped on board. In little more than a couple of seconds, Janet was settled into the compartment and, in another five minutes, she was inside Oak Cottage.

Fay’s heart had barely settled back to its normal rhythm when someone else knocked on her door – three loud, imperative raps that told her this was trouble.

‘Ah, Mrs Rae,’ Innes Ledingham said, with a fawning smile, ‘I am sorry to come bothering you but can tell me anything about the whereabouts of my wife?’

Fay held on to the doorpost in case her knees gave way with the lie she was about to tell. ‘No, Mr Ledingham. Is she not at The Sycamores?’

He looked askance at her, then said, ‘I am sorry to have to ask you this but may I take a look round your house?’

‘So you do not believe me?’ She dredged the strength up from somewhere deep inside her. ‘Well, look all you want to. There is no one here.’

‘Me, Mother!’ Andrew grabbed her hand and looked at the man doubtfully.

Ledingham bent down to him. ‘What is your name, little boy?’

‘Andrew and …’ pointing to the cradle, ‘she’s Mara.’

‘Samara,’ his mother corrected.

‘Tell me, Andrew, has a lady been here today?’

Fay’s stomach went into a spasm of fear as her son thought for a moment, then he smiled broadly. ‘Grandma.’

Knowing that the man would realise that where there was a grandmother there would likely be a grandfather, Fay said, ‘Yes, my mother was here.’ At least he already knew about
her
mother and father.

‘I see. Well, if you do not mind, I will get Andrew to show me around.’

She managed to keep her voice steady. ‘I do not mind. Show Mr Ledingham the parlour, Andrew, and take him up to see the bedrooms.’

When they went upstairs, Fay stood at the bottom, listening to everything that was said. ‘That’s Mother and Father’s bed,’ Andrew was saying.

Hearing the two sets of feet crossing the landing to the other bedroom, Fay thought that would be the end of it but Andrew was taking his duty as guide very seriously. ‘More,’ he stated and Fay listened to him leading the Superintendent up the narrow wooden steps to the attics. She heard the first door creaking open and then the second, which always gave a peculiar little squeak.

‘Well, that’s it, I suppose,’ came the deep voice but Andrew’s treble followed, ‘Nother door.’

Fay couldn’t help smiling. Ledingham would find nothing in the closet, either, thank goodness. When man and boy came down, she said rather tartly, ‘Are you satisfied now?’

Ledingham’s face was livid with frustration. ‘She is not here.’

‘I told you.’

She sat down with her hand on her heart when the little trap drew away and her son came to stand beside her. ‘Me a good boy?’

She lifted him on to her knee. ‘Yes, a very good boy.’ She had resented Nessie for taking over, had felt that she was being manipulated, but thank God it had been so. If Janet had been left here, Ledingham would have found her and goodness knows what would have transpired.

‘I am absolutely sure that Henry Rae had something to do with it.’ Innes Ledingham was pacing the floor of his sitting room like a lion padding round his cage.

Gloria, still known to everyone in The Sycamores as Mrs Rattray, looked somewhat irritated. ‘You told me you had searched his house and there was no sign of Janet.’

‘That does not mean a thing. He could have hidden her away somewhere else.’

‘I thought you had contacted all the people he might have gone to?’

‘I asked Roderick Emslie, Janet’s brother, if he knew anything but he seemed as shocked as I was to learn that she had disappeared. They have not been close for some time – not since their mother died. Then I remembered that Rae had a sister who also lives in Ardbirtle so I asked at the Post Office and got her address. It took some time because she is married and has a different surname now and she, too, looked genuinely surprised by my question.’

Gloria regarded him through narrowed eyes. ‘Couldn’t the woman just have wandered off by herself? You said that she wasn’t quite …’

‘For God’s sake! Have some sense, Gloria. Janet would not have been capable of getting to the bedroom door, never mind going down the stairs and walking away. I tell you, someone must have helped her.’

‘Who, then?’

‘That is what I am trying to find out! No one outside these walls could have known of her condition. She has not been able to hold a pen for weeks now, so she could not have
communicated with anyone.’

‘You think it was someone here?’

‘It must have been. The problem is, which of the staff was it?’ He sat down now, but the drumming of his fingers on the arm of his chair told of his continuing, even increasing, agitation.

After a moment’s silence, Gloria murmured, ‘Are you sure it was one of the staff?’