Read Legacy of Greyladies Online

Authors: Anna Jacobs

Legacy of Greyladies (22 page)

 

In the morning Alex woke first and had the pleasure of seeing Olivia sleeping as soundly and sweetly as a child in the light of a nearby lamp burning low. He didn’t wake her, because she looked comfortable in the chair, but she stirred of her own accord soon after, then sat up and stretched.

‘Is it morning already?’

‘Yes. After the best day of my life.’

‘Best day! But you got hurt, Alex.’

‘That doesn’t matter. I was also given a glorious hope for the future. You won’t change your mind, will you, Olivia? I’m not a big strong fellow like your husband, but I love you more than anyone else ever could.’

‘You’re strong in other ways, Alex, morally and mentally.’

‘So are you – and the other three women here are as well, come to think of it. No hysterics from any of them last night, and Ethel probably saved my life.’

‘Ethel and Joe combined.’

‘I must thank them properly today.’ He swung his feet to the
ground. ‘I’d better use the bathroom and tidy myself up a bit.’

As he was coming back someone hammered on the connecting door. ‘Mrs Latimer! Mrs Latimer! Are you all right in there?’

Joe peeped in from the kitchen. ‘That’s Captain Turner. Shall I let him in, Mrs Harbury?’

Ethel pushed past him. ‘That’s my job, young fellow.’ She went to open the door and the commandant came straight in.

He didn’t pause for polite greetings. ‘As soon as it got light, one of my soldiers found a mess of new footprints in the mud at the edge of the stable yard. We were worried that someone had broken in and—’ He saw Alex’s face and gasped. ‘What happened?’

So they explained about the attack.

‘Why didn’t you call for our help?’

‘We managed to drive them away ourselves – Ethel had a gun – and afterwards we were busy looking after Mr Seaton. Besides, Joe stayed here all night keeping watch. He was under orders to call on you for help if he saw the intruders again.’

‘Oh. Right. No idea what they wanted?’

‘To do some damage, probably. Or else they were reconnoitring for future reference. It’s all part of a well-organised campaign against our Germans, isn’t it? It’s not just people from our village, but other people who are involved.’

‘Unfortunately, yes. There’s apparently quite a nest of troublemakers in Swindon. I’m sorry our being here has brought danger to you and your beautiful house.’

‘So am I. And I think what’s happened so far is only the start.’

‘Yes.’

A man yelled from inside the new house, ‘There’s a car coming along the drive, Captain Turner.’

He swung round and started to return, but the voice yelled, ‘It’s going round the back.’

‘Mind if I stay and see who it is, Mrs Latimer?’

‘Be my guest.’ She ran through to the kitchen and looked out. ‘It’s Corin!’ she shouted and ran outside to fling herself into her husband’s arms.

Corin kissed her, then held her at arm’s length to study her face. ‘Something’s wrong. I could sense it. I’m not mistaken, am I?’

‘No. There has been an incident.’

‘We set off at two o’clock so that we could get here as early as possible. Unfortunately I only have two days’ leave approved, so if we can’t sort this trouble out quickly, you’re coming back to London with me, and I’m not taking no for an answer.’

‘Am I, indeed?’

‘Yes. There isn’t just you involved.’ He laid one hand briefly on her stomach.

‘I’m all right, darling. Everyone here is looking after me. Come inside and we’ll tell you what happened last night.’

They took seats in the library area of the long hall and Phoebe whispered to Ethel to join them, then explained what had happened the previous evening.

‘Well done, young Joe,’ Corin said warmly, then frowned. ‘Hatterson
must
be involved!’

‘Neither of them was limping, sir,’ Joe said. ‘I always keep my eyes open for that. My ma says he’s a real bad ’un.’

‘Your mother’s right,’ Ethel said grimly. ‘He’s downright rude to me and Cook if we run into him when we’re out shopping.’

‘He just looks at me, mostly,’ Phoebe said. ‘But he seems
so filled with hatred, even that makes me shiver. Most other people in the village are so friendly and helpful. Well, one or two avoid me, but they don’t say anything or glare at me. They just turn away.’

‘I think we need to do something about him and those he’s bringing into the village,’ Corin said slowly. ‘I’m not quite sure what yet. Let me get something to eat and take time to consider the situation, then I’ll see what I can come up with. Joe, go and get some sleep, but come back here this afternoon.’

‘Yes sir!’ He saluted and ran out.

‘That boy!’ Ethel said fondly. ‘He’s a lively one. Reminds me of my son.’

‘He’s the sort of lad who makes Britain great,’ Corin said.

‘Joe’s itching to join the forces,’ Ethel said. ‘His ma is desperately worried. He wants to go into the air force and become a mechanic.’

‘That’d be safer than the trenches,’ Corin said, shuddering at his own dark memories. ‘Maybe I’ll see if I can help. He could even be officer material. Anyway, that’s for another time. Where’s that breakfast? I’m famished. Alex, are you sure you’re all right now?’

‘I’m fine. I hope you don’t mind me staying here.’

‘I’m delighted. I hope you’ll stay on for a while. I hate leaving my wife unprotected. I have a few ideas about that, which I’ll tell you about later. Maybe we can flush those would-be murderers out.’

Hatterson pushed his breakfast away and stood up abruptly, wincing as his stump throbbed in protest. He’d seen better artificial limbs than this one, but only the officers and rich folk got those. Cannon fodder, that’s all he’d been, thrown away once he was no use. Well, he’d show them what a one-legged man could do. Then see what fools they’d look.

‘I’ll be busy this morning,’ he told his wife. ‘I don’t want disturbing, so don’t come into the front room. If I need a cuppa I’ll come out and get it myself.’

‘All right, Sidney. I have to go out to the shop anyway. What do you want for tea?’

‘Some ham – decent stuff, not that gristly cat meat you brought back last time.’

‘I’ll do my best, but I can only buy what they’ve got in the shop and there are shortages of some items, so they can only do their best, too.’

‘It’s up to you to make sure we get our share of the good stuff. And remember when you get back, no disturbing me.’

She nodded.

He went into the front room and sat down. His friends
had called in last night after the fiasco at Greyladies. A chap had come out of the old house to fiddle with a car, offering himself on a plate for a good bashing, and they’d still missed making an example of him, damn them.

Well, they’d make up for that failure tonight. They’d checked everything out and made their plans about where to attack from. It’d be the big one tonight, the offensive to destroy the Huns and give the rich traitors their comeuppance.

He liked to use the word ‘offensive’. It showed he and his friends were professional about what they were doing, not just hooligans. Some of them were ex-soldiers, invalided out like him; others had been denied the chance to fight for their country for silly medical reasons; a few had even been told they were too old to serve. Well, the doctors were wrong. All of the people who’d be involved were capable of acting, and so people would see before too long.

He waited till he heard Pearl go out, then settled his stick with the knitted hat on top in the chair to make it appear he was sitting there reading. Crouching to avoid being seen from the street, he left the room. While Pearl was out, he had to get the attic ready for tonight. A few chaps would be trickling in during the rest of the day and could hide up there. Some might spend the rest of the night there after the offensive.

He was going to send Pearl to visit her cousin at the farm this afternoon and tell her to stay there overnight, since they always asked her to. That’d keep her out of the way nicely. Those two women never stopped nattering once they were together. He hadn’t stopped her visiting the farm every now and then, even though it was a waste of time, because it was a useful way of getting rid of her.

He went up to the attic and got out some old bedding and a slop bucket.

As he went down again, he heard the back door open and close.

He hurried to the kitchen and saw Ted standing there.

‘Had to come early, Hatty, lad. Someone I don’t want to see came looking for me.’

Hatterson glanced through the rear window. No sign of Pearl, thank goodness. ‘Come upstairs quickly, and keep quiet once you’re there. The wife will be back soon from the shops. I’m sending her away while we’re doing this.’

‘Good idea. Got a newspaper I can read?’

‘Only yesterday’s. She uses them to light the fire.’

‘Yesterday’s will do.’

Hatterson went back downstairs, decided he was thirsty and made himself a cup of tea. Then he took it into the front room, bending low again to get across to his chair. To make sure the old witch or one of the other nosy parkers in this street saw him, he put the hat on, stood up to look out of the bay window, pretending to stretch and yawn. That should do it.

As he sat down he glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, wondering where his wife was. She was taking long enough at the shop. Gossiping probably. Well, he wouldn’t chastise her about that today.

 

Pearl queued up at the shop, feeling exhausted and in despair. Sidney was getting worse not better, treating her like a slave, working her to death, and who knew what he was planning. Something bad, that was sure.

Just before she got to the counter everything began to
spin and she cried out as she felt herself falling. When she came to, she found herself lying on a sofa, with a neighbour fanning her face.

‘Ah, you’re awake again, Mrs Hatterson. You went and fainted on us. Did you miss your breakfast today?’

Pearl couldn’t seem to think straight at first, then remembered they’d run out of bread because Sidney had treated himself to a few slices of toast last night. To save him complaining and perhaps thumping her, she’d given him what was left this morning. ‘I wasn’t hungry.’

The woman crouched in front of her. ‘You’re thinner than you used to be. Are you getting enough to eat? He’s working you too hard.’

Pearl tried not to show that this had hit the mark, but tears welled in her eyes. ‘I do my best – he has been injured you know – but I can’t keep up with everything the way he likes.’

Mrs Pocock came out from the kitchen and shoved a cup of tea at her. ‘Here you are. It’s nice and sweet. You get it down.’

‘Thank you. That’s very kind.’

She saw the two women look at one another. ‘Look. We all know what’s going on,’ Mrs Pocock said. ‘If you ever need to get away from him, you come here to me and I’ll hide you, then tell Mrs Latimer. She knows a place for women who aren’t happy at home and she helps them make new lives.’

Pearl was so horrified at the bits and pieces she’d overheard at home that she said without thinking, ‘It’s Mrs Latimer he’s going after!’


What?
Why would anyone go after her? She’s a really kind lady.’

‘Because of the Huns.’

‘Them being at the house is nothing to do with her. It was requisitioned by the War Office. Has your husband gone mad?’

There was silence and Pearl didn’t know what to say. Sidney did seem a bit … strange at times. ‘He’s changed a lot since the war.’

‘Look, dear, I think it’s time you let us in on what’s going on. He’s planning something nasty, isn’t he?’

‘If Sidney hears I’ve told you anything, he’ll beat me black and blue.’ Then she clapped one hand to her mouth. She hadn’t meant to tell anyone that, either. She had her pride, after all. She glanced quickly over her shoulder, but no one else was close enough to overhear.

Mrs Pocock kept her voice down too. ‘Everyone in the village knows he beats you, love. You can’t hide all the bruises.’

She burst into tears and couldn’t stop crying from shame till she remembered he’d see her red eyes when she went home and want to know what she’d been crying about.

‘Stay here, Pearl. Don’t go back. I’ll tell him you’re leaving him, if you want,’ Mrs Pocock said. ‘He won’t beat
me
, I promise you.’

‘No, no! I must go home. He mustn’t know. I
daren’t
cross him. He’ll kill me.’

And in spite of their attempts to persuade her to stay, she pulled herself together, splashed cold water on her face and bought what she needed, before making her way slowly home. She nearly turned round halfway, but then she stiffened her spine and continued.
For better, for worse
, that’s what she’d promised.

When she got home, she heard Sidney talking to someone in the attic. What was that about? Who had he got hidden up there? She’d better not let him know she’d heard them.

He started down the stairs and she glanced round in panic, then darted into the wash house. He came into the kitchen, so she stayed where she was till he’d made himself a cup of tea.

She saw him carry it towards the front room. Strange. He usually took a good slurp before he moved, because carrying full cups of tea around with his limp made him spill it sometimes. But today the cup wasn’t rattling in the saucer as much as usual. And he wasn’t limping as much, either.

When she heard him set the cup down, she left the pantry and stood for a moment staring at herself in the mirror. She was chalk white, but the latest bruises didn’t show, thank goodness. She opened the back door quietly and pretended to come in again but the wind blew it out of her hand and it banged loudly shut.

That brought him straight out into the kitchen, mouth open to scold her for another imaginary fault. But he stopped and stared at her instead. ‘You’ve been crying.’

‘Sort of.’

‘What the hell does that mean?’

‘I fainted in the shop and I was upset afterwards. Mrs Pocock gave me a cup of tea, but I still feel a bit dizzy.’ She fumbled for a kitchen chair and dropped down into it at the table.

‘Did you get the shopping?’

‘Most of it. At least, I think I did. It’s in the shopping bag. I don’t feel well. Perhaps I should go and have a lie-down.’

‘Nonsense. You’ve been working too hard. Lying down
won’t help. What you need is to get out in the open air. That’ll freshen you up. Why don’t you go and spend the afternoon nattering to that cousin of yours who lives just outside Challerton? In fact, why don’t you stay overnight at the farm? Jen’s always asking you.’

She stared at him, trying to work out what was going on. Obviously he wanted to get rid of her, but why? It must be to do with his hidden friend. What were they up to?

‘Well?’ he prompted. ‘Cat got your tongue?’

‘I was surprised. You don’t usually want me to go out.’

‘You don’t usually faint all over people.’

There was a thump upstairs as if someone had knocked over a piece of furniture.

‘What’s that?’ she asked, because it’d have looked strange if she hadn’t asked.

‘Ah. Well, to tell you the truth a friend of mine has come to visit me and he didn’t get much sleep last night so he’s having a lie-down in the attic.’

‘Why didn’t you put him in one of the spare bedrooms?’

‘I – um, thought he’d be quieter up there. I’ve invited another couple of mates to visit me later, so it’d suit me if you went out today.’

‘It would be nice to see Jen.’

‘There you are, then. We’d both be suited.’

‘But it’s a long way to walk and I’m still not feeling right.’ She held her breath. Would he get upset at this and hit her? He’d locked her bike away a few months ago, saying she didn’t need it. She missed the freedom of being able to go further afield. Five miles was too far to walk.

‘Why don’t I get your bike out? The light’s not working properly, but if you stay overnight, you won’t need to ride
back after dark. Me and my mates will be able to have a few beers in peace and make as much noise as we please.’

‘Oh. Well, all right. If you’re sure.’

‘Of course I’m sure. Why don’t you pack an overnight bag and go straight away?’

‘Before I’ve made your lunch?’ Again she held her breath as she waited for an answer.

‘I can make myself a damned sandwich. I’m not helpless, you know. It’s my leg that’s gone, not my hands.’

‘I will, then. And thank you very much. I shall enjoy a break.’

He patted her shoulder and she couldn’t help flinching away from him, thinking he was going to hit her. He smiled at that. He liked her to show she was afraid of him.

‘I’ll go and check your bicycle, oil it a bit. You can leave as soon as it’s ready. Get that bag packed.’ He walked out whistling cheerfully.

She wondered who was hiding upstairs, what had made Sidney so cheerful all of a sudden. It probably meant someone was going to get hurt. She ought to tell someone. Did she dare do it, though?

As she put her hand over her mouth, she caught sight of herself in the dressing table mirror, looking like a timid child. That made her feel angry. She was twenty-five years old, not five. And
she
had done nothing wrong and didn’t deserve to be hurt.

Slowly she let her hand fall. She’d do it! Leave him. And it’d serve him right. She’d call in to see Mrs Pocock again before she went out to Jen’s farm and warn the shopkeeper that strangers were coming to the house. That never normally happened, well, not openly in the daytime.

Only, this person wasn’t here openly. Sidney had looked annoyed at the noise he’d made. Someone should keep watch and see who else turned up, find out what was going on. She’d suggest that to Mrs Pocock. The shopkeeper knew everyone in the village.

From the things Sidney had said about the foreigners at the big house, he was intending to cause trouble there. That was bad enough, because Mrs Latimer was a lovely person. But Pearl also hated to think of those gentle old people getting hurt. She didn’t want to be part of hurting anyone.

She’d had enough. Mrs Pocock was right. She shouldn’t put up with it. She was definitely not coming back and if Jen wouldn’t help her, she’d go to Mrs Pocock.

On that thought she began cramming as many of her clothes as she could in the shabby little suitcase. She didn’t dare take the big one, so she quickly put on two or three of every undergarment possible and stuffed her pockets with handkerchiefs, gloves, anything small she could find.

She jumped like a startled rabbit when he called from the bottom of the stairs. ‘Your bike’s ready, Pearl.’

‘Thank you, Sidney. I’ll be down in a minute.’

With some difficulty she forced a half-smile as she passed him in the kitchen. He didn’t follow her out, but her fingers were shaking as she strapped the little suitcase to the rack on the bicycle. She kept expecting him to call her back and say it had all been a joke, and she couldn’t go.

But he didn’t. He didn’t even stand in the garden to watch her leave.

She had no trouble smiling as she parked her bicycle round the back of the shop and went in to see Mrs Pocock.
She was with people now. He couldn’t drag her back, even if he came after her.

On the way to her cousin’s she threw back her head and laughed aloud, which set the bicycle wobbling wildly across the country lane and nearly landed her in the ditch.

Still laughing, she managed to control the bicycle and carry on … pedalling her way to freedom.

 

Once that poor cowed creature had left, Mrs Pocock called in her husband and after an earnest discussion, he set off for Greyladies, taking a roundabout route.

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