Whispers (13 page)

Jess sulkily stacked the dirty pots in the dishwasher until she heard the door close behind him. Jo was in the small lounge watching
Emmerdale Farm
, so Mel left her to it as she began to wander despondently from room to room. It suddenly struck her how few of the rooms they actually used. The drawing room looked very grand now with its expensive wallpaper and its grand swags and tails, but they’d soon
discovered
it was far too large for them unless they had company, and so they chose to sit in the small cosy room that adjoined the kitchen for the majority of the time. Perhaps this house is too big for us, she thought for the first time, but then she pushed the thought away. Once the rest of the house was finished she would start her B and B business and then perhaps all the rooms would be used as they should be.

Feeling at a loose end, Jess headed for her bedroom where she settled down to read the next extract from Martha’s journal. At least it would give her something to keep her occupied until Mel decided to put in an appearance.

1 September

The Master has gone away to visit friends for a whole week so today we all went for a stroll in the meadow and Bertie did a sketch of me while I was picking some wild flowers. Bertie can draw beautifully and Granny often says he could have been an artist, had he been born into the gentry.

‘I’m tellin’ yer, things are goin’ from bad to worse since the Master sold them fields off to Farmer Codd.’

Hal Tolley was taking a tea break in the kitchen with Granny Reid, and as he spoke, his expression was grim. ‘He called into the cottage to see us yesterday an’ told us that now he only ’as two acres left, it’s doubtful whether or not there’ll be enough work left fer me to do.’

‘But what’ll ’appen if he turns you an’ yer brood out o’ the cottage?’ Granny Reid asked worriedly.

Hal shrugged. ‘I ain’t even dared to think on it yet,’ he said gruffly. ‘It seems the work’ouse would be the safest option, but I’d rather live in a hovel an’ take any job I could, afore I’d resort to me family goin’ there, especially now we’ve discovered Phoebe is expectin’ again.’

‘Eeh, it makes yer wonder where it’s all goin’ to end,’ Granny muttered as she lifted her heavy mug of steaming tea. ‘Word has it that the mill is in trouble an’ all.’

‘’T’wouldn’t surprise me,’ Hal rejoined. ‘Money slips through that one’s hands like water, an’ it’ll be all of us that suffer if he don’t pull his reins in soon. But anyway, I’d best get on while I still ’ave a job, eh? Happen I’ll be out o’ one soon enough an’ I don’t wanna give his lordship an excuse to set me on the road. Thanks fer the tea, lass, it were right welcome.’

Granny Reid watched Hal walk from the cottage, his shoulders
stooped
with worry. ‘Poor bugger,’ she sighed, as much to herself as to Martha, who was rolling pastry at the table.

‘Try not to worry too much,’ the girl told her with all the optimism of youth. ‘Perhaps things ain’t as bad as we all fear?’

‘Huh!’ Granny shook her head before disappearing off into the large walk-in pantry to try and find something to serve for dinner as Martha and Grace exchanged worried glances. It seemed that things were indeed going from bad to worse, and they both silently wondered where it might end.

Later that afternoon, as Martha was going to feed the last remaining pig in the sty, a sound caught her ear. It was coming from the side of the Dutch Barn so, lifting her skirts, she tiptoed towards it. When she turned the corner she was confronted by Grace, who was leaning over being violently sick into the midden.

‘Grace, whatever’s wrong?’ she asked as she rushed to her sister’s side but Grace held her hand up as if to ward her off.

‘It’s nothin’,’ she gasped. ‘You just get about yer chores an’ don’t fret, eh.’ With that she straightened up and hurried away.

Martha quickly fed the pig and fled back to the kitchen to inform Granny, ‘I just caught our Grace bein’ really sick behind the Dutch Barn.’

Granny rounded on her, waggling a carving knife at her. She seemed about to scold the girl, but then her shoulders sagged and she said, ‘I reckon it’s quite normal fer women in the family way to be sick. I may as well tell yer now as let yer hear it from someone else.’

‘In the family way . . . Yer mean our Grace is havin’ a baby?’ Martha couldn’t disguise the shock and delight in her voice although Granny certainly didn’t look any too happy about it.

‘Aye she is, but I don’t want yer goin’ round broadcastin’ it, an’ don’t get talkin’ to Bertie about it neither.’

Martha looked confused. Grace and Bertie obviously loved each and they were married, so why shouldn’t they have a baby and be happy about it? It was a natural progression, after all.

‘I wonder if Phoebe’s baby will come before Grace’s,’ Martha said musingly as she tied a large hessian apron about her slender waist.

‘I’ve told you, ain’t I?’ Granny said sharply. ‘Least said about it fer now the better, so button yer lip, me girl.’

Martha sighed as she crossed to the sink to attack the pile of washing-up there. She felt peeved at the way her granny had spoken
to
her but she couldn’t stay miserable for long. The previous evening, just before retiring to bed, she had slipped out to meet Jimmy, and they had wandered along by the River Anker hand-in-hand. It had rained ceaselessly for the last two weeks and the stone bridge was underwater, while the river had burst its banks – but nothing could have spoiled the time she spent with him. She knew that Granny would not have approved of her sneaking off to meet him, but how else was she to see him? It was clear that Granny wasn’t going to give her permission to walk out with him and Martha could not envisage not spending time with him now. He had kissed her when they parted and she had felt as if a million butterflies were fluttering about inside her stomach. On top of that the Master would be going away tomorrow to visit friends in Northamptonshire for a whole week and she could hardly wait to see the back of him. Whenever he wasn’t there it was as if a great black cloud had lifted from over the house and Martha knew that the rest of her family were looking forward to him going too. Humming softly to herself, she got on with her chores.

The following afternoon when the Master had departed, they all went for a walk in the meadow. The rain had finally stopped and the sun was riding high in a cloudless blue sky. Grace and Granny sat on the grass, enjoying the feel of the sun on their faces whilst Bertie sketched Martha picking wild flowers for the kitchen windowsill.

When the sketch was done, Martha was amazed at how good it was. ‘I reckon you should have a go at sellin’ some of your pictures in the market place,’ she told him.

‘Do you really think folks hereabouts would have money to waste on sketches in these hard times?’ Bertie pointed out sensibly, and Martha supposed he was right. With jobs so hard to come by, folks thought they were lucky if they could put food in their bellies. But oh, it did seem such an awful waste of his talent.

Jess reluctantly closed the journal. She would have liked to read on, but her thoughts were back on Mel’s whereabouts. Glancing at the clock she saw that it was approaching nine o’clock and she got off the bed, pausing only to glance at the sketches on her bedroom wall. The girl picking wild flowers must be the sketch that Martha had written of in her journal – the one that Bertie had done. There was no doubt that he had been very talented.

As she walked along the landing she heard someone in the shower and guessed that this would be Jo. Perhaps when she got downstairs
Mel
would be home and she could stop worrying. On this hopeful thought she hurried down the stairs.

The kitchen was deserted apart from Alfie and again a stab of fear rippled through her. It was almost dark outside now and feeling the need to do something useful she raced back to Mel’s bedroom and began to rifle through the untidy drawers until she found her daughter’s address book.

Back downstairs she dialled the number of Mel’s mobile phone, chewing on her lip when she reached the answerphone again. ‘This is Mum, would you
please
phone home and let me know where you are when you get this message?’ she said, close to tears.

She then began to systematically work through the numbers in the book until eventually there was no one else she could think of to ring. It seemed that no one had seen her all day and now Jess was convinced that something was badly wrong. She checked that Jo was safely tucked up in bed, and after explaining that she was just popping to Laura’s to see if Mel was there she let herself out into the dark courtyard and hurried down the drive.

When she reached Blue Brick Cottage she pounded on the back door and Laura opened it with a worried expression on her face. ‘What is it? Has something happened to Beth?’

‘No, Beth is fine,’ Jess assured her. ‘I should think Simon will be picking her up from the youth club any time now. It’s Mel I’m concerned about. May I come in?’

‘Of course you can.’ Laura took her elbow and steered her into the small kitchen. ‘Now what’s wrong?’ she questioned.

Jess wearily rubbed her brow where a headache was starting to throb. ‘It’s Mel. She hasn’t come home.’

The kitchen here was probably a quarter of the size of the one at Stonebridge House, but what it lacked in size it made up for in oldeworlde charm, Jess thought dazedly. Oak beams crisscrossed the ceiling and a cheery fire was blazing in an inglenook fireplace, the flames bouncing off a selection of highly polished pans that were suspended from the thick beam above it. The floor was covered in red quarry tiles which lent a warm feel to the room, and against one wall was a huge old dresser laden with Laura’s prized china collection.

‘She didn’t go to school today either, so where do you think she could be?’ Jess asked despondently.

Not wishing to alarm her neighbour more than she already was,
Laura
tactfully said, ‘She’s probably just gone round to a mate’s house and lost track of time.’

Jess fiddled with the buttons on her coat. ‘No, she hasn’t. I’ve phoned every single number in her address book and no one has seen her. I know she’s been moody lately but this isn’t like her, Laura. In fact I’ve
never
known her to do this before. Do you think I should call the police?’

‘Why don’t you give her another hour or so?’ Laura said gently. ‘It’s still quite early really, and I’m sure she’s fine wherever she is.’ As she swept a pile of paperwork aside to place a cup of tea in front of Jess she saw the latter glance at it curiously and she smiled self-consciously as she explained. ‘I’m tracing my family tree. It’s a hobby of mine and quite fascinating when you get into it. Den tends to go to bed quite early so he can be up with the lark in the morning, so I need something to keep me occupied. I’m also tracing the Fentons’ family tree too.’

‘Really?’ Jess would have been very interested under other circumstances, but for now it was hard to think of anything except her missing daughter.

‘Look, I know you must be worried sick,’ Laura said kindly as she rubbed Jess’s shoulder. ‘But I’ll bet you any money she’ll turn up safe and sound within the next couple of hours and you’ll wonder what you were worrying about. That’s teenagers, I’m afraid. Even my Beth is worrying me at present, as Simon has probably told you. A boy who goes to the same youth club as her has taken a real shine to her and she hasn’t been there the last couple of times your Simon has gone to pick her up. He’s had to go looking for her, bless him.’

‘Yes, he did mention something about it,’ Jess said as she sipped at her tea and now Laura went on, ‘The trouble is, my Beth is quite stunning to look at. Very often no one realises that there is anything different about her until she speaks. But she’s so naïve and vulnerable. I worry that someone could take advantage of her. Between you and me, I asked Den if perhaps we shouldn’t stop her going but he says it wouldn’t be fair to deprive her of her only night out. I sometimes wish that I could just lock her away or wrap her up in cotton wool and keep her safe, but we can’t do that with our kids, can we?’

‘No, I don’t suppose we can.’ Jess suddenly felt very foolish. Laura was right. Mel would probably be home by the time she got back to the house full of excuses and now she just wanted to be there.

‘Look, forgive me but I think I’d better get home.’ Scraping her
chair
across the quarry tiles she rose, leaving her tea virtually untouched. ‘Thanks for the advice, Laura. I’m probably just worrying for nothing. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight, love. Let me know how things are in the morning, won’t you?’

Jess nodded as Laura let her out into the biting wind and then pulling up her collar she set off up the long winding drive to her home, jumping as the trees bent towards her in the wind. They looked as if they were involved in some sort of macabre dance and by the time she reached the courtyard her heart was thudding painfully in her chest.

‘Mel!’ she cried the second she set foot in the kitchen, but only silence greeted her and she settled down miserably to wait. It seemed that was all she could do for now.

It was now almost eleven o’clock and Jess was beside herself with worry as she paced up and down the kitchen like a caged animal. Simon should have been home long ago, but once again he was late and there was still no sign of Mel. Coming to a decision, Jess strode into the hall and lifted the phone. She had waited long enough and now every instinct she had was screaming that it was time to do something. She rang the police station and left a garbled missing person’s report to a calm operator who assured her that someone would be with her as soon as possible. Jess thanked her before heading back into the kitchen where she lit another cigarette. The minutes on the clock ticked away ominously as anger and fear vied for first place inside her. Where the hell could Simon have got to? Why wasn’t he here when she needed him?

His Land Rover finally drove into the courtyard at gone half past eleven and she flew to the door and threw it open.

Jess immediately let rip at him for going off when Mel was missing, but thankfully the exchange was prevented from developing into a full-scale row when a police car drew up beside them.