Authors: Rosie Goodwin
Damn it, we’re going into the ditch – he must have stumbled on something beneath the snow, Charles thought – and then as Prince pitched over he was flying through the air and the last thing he saw was Lennie grinning at him from the side of the lane. His head connected sickeningly with the trunk of a thick oak tree, and then he knew no more as he slithered down to lie in a pool of his own blood. Prince staggered back to his feet and managed to climb from the deep ditch then stood shivering, his reins hanging slackly across his back.
Lennie rubbed his hands together. That should keep the arrogant bastard quiet fer a while, he thought gleefully. He told the horse: ‘I’ll go an’ ’ave a few jars down at the Sally, then I’ll pay ’is missus a visit.’
Turning his back on the prone figure in the ditch and the horse who was pawing at the ground in distress, he went on his way whistling – but not before he had emptied Charles’s pockets of any money and his heavy gold fob-watch and chain. The way Lennie saw it, the owner wouldn’t be needing them again any time soon.
Harry Boot arrived at Martha’s cottage mid-afternoon with the coffin that Josh had ordered and paid for. Edward Mundy was lifted into it and carried down the stairs to the parlour, where he would lie in the open casket until the next day. Neighbours and his parishioners would now be admitted to pay their last respects to him.
Martha watched the proceedings dully. It was a fine coffin made of solid oak with fancy brass handles, far better than anything she could have afforded. She supposed that she should be feeling upset, but she was ashamed to find that all she felt was an overpowering sense of relief. Edward had never pretended to love her, even though she had tried her best to be a good wife to him. Nor had he ever shown her one iota of kindness or consideration. But it was over now. He would never hurt her again, either physically or mentally. Tomorrow he would be buried, although Harry Boot had pointed out that it would be no easy task digging the grave in this weather. She would just be glad when it was all over.
‘What yer doin’ ’ere again?’ Dora Glover said impatiently when she opened the door to Josh and Henry.
‘The same thing as we were doing yesterday,’ Josh told her. ‘We have come to enquire if Lennie has put in an appearance yet.’
‘Well, he ain’t – so clear orf.’ Dora scratched beneath her sagging bosom and Josh struggled to hide his distaste. She smelled of stale ale and cheap scent and he wondered how any man could find her attractive enough to bed her, although there were many that undoubtedly did, if the rumours were anything to go by.
‘Thank you and good day, madam,’ Josh answered as she slammed the door in his face.
Henry stared at him dejectedly. ‘So what do we do now? I can’t think of anywhere else to try.’
‘I think we should get out of the cold for a while.’ Josh stamped his feet and rubbed his gloved hands together, then as a thought occurred to him he said, ‘I know – we’ll go to my father’s club and have a meal. I don’t know about you, but I could do with something to warm me up and there’s nothing much we can do until the inn opens. What do you say?’
Henry looked uncomfortable as he shuffled from foot to foot. ‘But won’t that be expensive?’
‘Not at all. You will come as my guest. But first we shall have to get into town and it looks like we’re going to have to walk.’
‘It’s only a couple o’ miles.’ Henry would have walked ten if there had been a good hot meal at the end of it so they set off.
It was way past lunchtime by the time they stepped into the gentleman’s club that Josh’s father favoured and as Dawson helped them off with their coats Josh asked, ‘Is my father here, Dawson?’
‘He was, sir, but he left for home earlier this afternoon.’
Josh nodded. ‘Then could I order a roast meal with all the trimmings for myself and my friend here, please? We shall be in the bar if you’d like to call us through to the dining room when it’s ready.’
‘Of course, sir.’ Dawson glanced at Henry’s rough work clothes, bringing the colour flooding into Henry’s cheeks before turning and hurrying away.
‘I’m not so sure that this was such a good idea,’ Henry said bashfully, feeling totally out of place. He was acutely aware that he was attracting more than a few curious glances, and was deeply embarrassed.
‘Nonsense. You are my guest,’ Josh assured him, taking him firmly by the elbow and leading him towards the bar. ‘Now then, how about a drop of brandy to warm us up, eh? It’s just what the doctor ordered on a day like this.’
Henry had never even tasted brandy, nor any other alcoholic drink in his life before for that matter, because of his father’s strict religious beliefs but he nodded numbly as Josh pushed a glass across the highly polished bar to him.
‘We’ll sit over there by the fire, shall we, whilst we wait to be called?’
When Henry found himself seated in a fine leather Chesterfield chair, he felt as if he had stepped into another world. The amount of coal on the fire would have lasted his mother a week, and beneath his feet was a deep pile carpet that stretched from wall to wall. Patterned wallpaper adorned the walls and small tables were dotted about where the men could place their drinks and cigars.
He gulped at his drink then went into a paroxysm of coughing as Josh laughed and pounded his back.
‘You’re meant to sip at it, man,’ he chuckled.
Josh tried to nod as he gasped for air. His throat felt as if it was on fire but he had to admit it had warmed him through – a little too much, if he were to be truthful.
The meal left Henry speechless as one delicious course followed another, and he ate so much that he feared he would burst. Martha had always managed to put nourishing meals on the table with the meagre supplies she could afford, but he had never tasted anything like this and it made him realise how the other half lived.
‘That was absolutely delicious,’ he told Josh as he finally laid down his knife and fork. Josh smiled. He had enjoyed seeing Henry tuck into his food and thought what a thoroughly nice young man he was. It was no wonder that Maria thought so highly of him. Thinking of her made the smile die on his face. It felt like an age since he had seen her, even though it had only been a matter of days. Somehow he would have to find her, because he realised now that it would be impossible to live without her.
‘Right, if you’re ready I think we should be making our way back, don’t you?’ Josh suggested.
Henry nodded and soon they were back out on the darkening pavements, not relishing the journey ahead of them one little bit. They hastened through the town centre, past the empty pens in the cattle-market and along Queens Road, then after taking a right turn they came to Tuttle Hill and started the steep climb, passing the odd cottage whose curtains were already tightly drawn against the fast-darkening night.
‘Phew, it fair takes it out of you, this deep snow, doesn’t it?’ Henry commented as they approached a copse. At least the leafless trees formed a canopy here and stopped the snow from falling quite so quickly.
‘Did you hear something then?’ Josh suddenly asked, pausing to draw breath and listen.
Henry stopped too and strained his ears into the darkness before answering, ‘I think I did. It sounded like a horse neighing.’
They moved on – and Prince loomed up out of the darkness ahead of them.
‘Why, this is my father’s horse.’ Josh took the reins and whispered soothingly to the distressed creature as his eyes cast about for a sign of his master. ‘But where is my father? He would never just leave him here in the middle of nowhere. Prince is a thoroughbred and Papa prizes him highly.’
They began to look about and it was Henry who finally shouted, ‘Over here, Master Josh! I reckon there’s someone down in the ditch.’
In no time at all they had scrambled down the bank. ‘It’s my father,’ Josh said in horror. He turned him over gently and groaned deep in his throat as he saw the blood that had caked across his face. ‘Is he alive?’ he asked fearfully and Henry thrust his hand beneath Charles’s thick overcoat and felt for a heartbeat.
‘I can’t be sure but I reckon he is, although his heartbeat is very slow,’ he answered. Then looking about wildly he said, ‘He won’t be alive for much longer though if we don’t get him into the warm. Come on, Josh. There’s no time to go for help. We’ll have to somehow lift him onto the horse and get him some of the way back. We’ll stop at the first cottage we come to. Happen they’ll have something we can lay him on and then we can carry him the rest of the way. Let’s get him up the bank.’
It proved to be no easy task. Charles was a large man and they had to manhandle his dead weight as best they could, but at last they had him on the path. It was then that Henry, kneeling, put his hand out to lean against the trunk of the tree while he got his breath back and it came into contact with something tied about it, a few inches above the ground.
‘Look at this,’ he said angrily as his hand followed the string beneath the snow. ‘Someone has tied this across the path, from one tree to another. It must have been that which Prince stumbled on. But who would do such a thing? Both the horse and the rider could have been killed.’ Henry always carried a penknife. Taking it from his pocket he cut the string and wedged it into his pocket before telling Josh, ‘There’s no time to lose. Let’s get your father up onto the horse.’
Eventually they managed it, then whilst Henry took the reins and led the horse, Josh walked alongside, keeping his father’s limp body from falling off again. But the thought in both their minds as they made their slow way home was: would they be returning a living man or a corpse?
Maria yawned as she tucked the thin blanket about Faith and went to check on Johnny. All the children were sleeping contentedly again now with full bellies. The pan of porridge that had been sent up from the kitchen had been cold and greasy, but she had managed to mash it to a suitable consistency with milk she had warmed on the fire and the older babies had gobbled it down. She just wished that she could have encouraged Johnny to try a little, but despite her best efforts he had refused to take even a drop of milk, although he did seem to be much cooler, for which she was thankful.
Now she leaned over him, and it was as she was tucking the blanket about his scrawny little body that the most amazing thing happened, for as he looked up at her, his thin little face suddenly broke into the most wonderful smile and he held his arms out to her.
‘Oh, my darling,’ Maria crooned as she gently lifted him and cuddled her to him. She had thought that none of the babies in this awful place were capable of smiling. The poor mites had had little enough to smile at during their short lives, but Johnny had just proved her wrong – and all the long sleepless hours she had spent tending him were suddenly worth every minute.
‘I’m going to get you out of here by hook or by crook,’ she whispered into his downy hair. ‘And you’re going to grow up to be a big strong man.’
She cuddled him until his eyelids began to droop then gently laid him back into his cot. Perhaps now she might catch a nap while all the babies were content. She had been so busy that she had barely had time to think of anything other than the infants all day, but now tears clogged her throat. She had expected to be spending Christmas with her mother, but now she would be here in this godforsaken place, although she had no doubt that Josh would be searching for her. She made up the fire then dropped heavily into the chair and before she knew it, was fast asleep.
The man in the cottage at Chapel End where Josh and Henry stopped to ask for help could not have been more helpful. Within minutes he had produced not only a door to use as a stretcher, but warm blankets in which to swaddle Charles for the rest of his journey. He and his neighbour then insisted on helping to carry Charles the rest of the way, and so with a man on each corner of the door and another man dispatched to tell the doctor that he would be needed at Willow Park, they struggled on. There was no chance of getting a cart through the drifts so this was the only option left open to them.
They were all drooping with weariness as they finally climbed the steps to the heavy oak doors, and when Jennings opened it to them, Josh was sure he had never been so pleased to see him in his life before.
‘Goodness me, sir! Is that the master you have there? Bring him into the warm quickly. I’ll summon the mistress and order hot water and towels.’
As the men gently laid the door down, Helena rushed down the hallway, her silken skirts rustling about her. When she saw Charles, her hand flew to her mouth but then quickly taking control she ordered them, ‘Bring him into the drawing room and put him on the sofa. Whatever has happened?’ Jennings meanwhile had ordered a stable-lad to fetch Prince and rub him down and see to his needs.
Maids were hurrying to and fro, bringing bowls of hot water and towels, and whilst the helpers were led away to the kitchen for food and a warm drink, Josh and Henry followed Helena into the drawing room. Once Charles’s prostrate body had been transferred to the velvet sofa, Josh began to explain what had happened.
‘It seems that someone strung a line across the path, tripping the horse, and Father must have been thrown.’
Helena dabbed gently at the caked blood on her husband’s face. ‘But why would anyone do such a terrible thing?’ she asked, and both of the young men shook their heads. They had no answer.
‘The doctor should be on his way,’ Josh told her. ‘That’s if he can get through the snow.’
‘Well, in the meantime we have to take these wet clothes off him,’ Helena said, swallowing her tears. Now was not the time for crying. There would be plenty of time for that later, when she had done all she could for her husband.
The two young men stepped forward and in seconds had divested Charles of his clothes. They then wrapped him in warm blankets and placed the hot bricks that one of the maids had brought from the oven by his feet, whilst Helena tried to rub some warmth into his stiff cold fingers. He was a terrible ghastly grey colour, and she feared the worst, but while there was life there was hope, and she worked on, sponging him with warm water and rubbing his limbs.