Miss Mary Martha Crawford (21 page)

now they had mostly spat fire at him, but at the moment they were soft with her tears. Her mouth was big and that didn't make for beauty in a woman, but nevertheless it didn't mar her face. All in all, given an easier life and one free from worry, she could have laid some claim to beauty; she had a splendid head of hair on her.

When she lifted her eyes to his he swallowed some spittle, then said abruptly, "I understand you'll soon be needing a new manager for your bookshop?"

Her mouth remained open before she said in some surprise, "How ... I mean it was only yesterday?"

"Oh, Hexham's not a very big place, news gets around, I visit a lot of people. It was just something that I overheard. Your present manager is promoting himself to Gunning- ham's, isn't that so? But let me say immediately, to my mind Gunningham's is no promotion, not for a man who is interested in literature, for they deal mostly in the cheaper,

popular type of books."

"Yes, yes, they do." She nodded at him, then blew her nose.

"Have you anyone in mind to replace him?"

"No, not as yet. I was going in today, but ... well, Dilly was unable to come downstairs. But I was definitely going in tomorrow to the

agency."

"Well now' he placed both his hands on his knees and tapped them " I may be speaking out of place, I may be interfering with something that is none of my business, but I happen to know a man who is a real

literary type; not young, oh no, I'm sorry to say; if you're looking for someone young and ambitious then this is not your man; but if

you're looking for someone who knows books and loves books, and whose one joy is to be among books, then I think I could help you. "

"You could?"

"Yes."

They stared at each other until she dropped her gaze, then said, "Well, if this is possible ... doctor' she seemed to hesitate on his name "

I'd be very grateful. I was in quite a dilemma.

I.

I had hoped to put my sister Mildred into the shop to learn the

business but. but. " Her voice trailed away. She blinked, looked straight ahead for a moment, then said, " There were circumstances that prevented me carrying out this intention. " She was now looking at him again as she continued, " If as you say this is an old gentleman and I can be sure he's of good character, then it would solve two problems for me, the shop could continue to be open and my sister enter into

employment. "

"Well then' he nodded at her now 'that's settled, at least my part of it is. Now the man's name is Mr. Samuel Armstrong; he lives about

half a mile out from Hexham in the Dean Cottages. You know the little row of cottages on the roadside?"

"Yes, yes, I know the place."

"He has not the means, I'm afraid, of coming out to see you but I'll be passing there on my way back; shall I tell him you will call and see him?"

"Oh, if you would, doctor, I'd be very grateful."

They were both standing now. Her face was relaxed, her whole body was relaxed, she appeared to him like someone new, someone he had just met.

He wondered why he had ever seen her in such a harsh unfeminine light.

He was actually smiling at her and about to extend his hand for the

first

time towards her when her name being called at a high pitch from

outside the house startled them both and brought them looking towards the drawing-room door.

"Martha Mary! Martha Mary!"

It was Mildred's voice coming from the hall and Martha ran to the

drawing-room door, pulled it open and cried, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Mildred came running across the hall now and almost threw herself into Martha's arms, sobbing, "It's Nick; he's ... he's killing the kittens, but... but not nicely. He's killing the kittens, Martha, it's awful, awful, against the wall. You said they were to be drowned, but

he...."

She put her head down and shook it from side to side as she continued to sob.

Up till a moment ago Harry had forgotten about the stable lad and his intention of catching him out in his treatment of Fred, but now he was running from the house, across the courtyard towards the

outbuildings.

A quick glance showed him that Nick wasn't in the barn. But Fred was sitting by Bessie. When the dog saw him it came running towards him, but with its tail between its legs as was usual when in this place.

When it gave one sharp bark he said, "Ssh! quiet!" and in the silence that followed he heard the piteous whimpering of kittens. Running

again, he went swiftly round the back of the barn and what he saw

brought him to a halt for a second. There, strewn at the bottom of a low dry stone wall that bordered the yard, were the bashed bodies of four kittens and Nick Bailey was in the act of dashing the brains out of a fifth one, with two more squawking aloud while awaiting their

destiny in the basket at his feet.

So totally engrossed was he in his bestial task that he was oblivious of Harry's approach until he was gripped by the collar and swung round with such force that his feet left the ground.

"Hie you! Le... let go o' me."

For answer Harry dragged him struggling and punching out with his fists round the side of the barn, and as he threw him through the opening

towards where Fred lay now

crouched and growling, Martha came running across the yard. On sight of her he checked her with a bawl.

"Stay where you are! Go back into the house." He pointed, and when she stopped he turned and walked slowly now towards the trap. There he pulled the long horsewhip from its socket, and still slowly he advanced on Nick Bailey where he had retreated backwards towards the top corner of the barn.

"You don't do that, doctor; you take no horsewhip to me, or I'll fetch me da to you, an' our Fred an' Willie. They'll bash you they will. You don't take no whip to ..."

Harry did not speak until he brought the whip across the cowering boy's shoulders, and then he cried, "I'll give you one for each kitten, and then four more for the punctures in Fred's haunches, you cruel young bugger you!"

"Stop it! Stop it this moment! ... Doctor'." When he felt his arm pulled downwards he swung round and almost thrust Martha on to her

back; then his arm dropping to his side, he stood panting deeply as he stared down at the crouching figure on the barn floor.

"Have you gone mad?"

Now his head jerked in her direction and he hissed at her, "Yes, but not mad enough."

"I ... I told him to destroy the kittens, there were too many of them."

"Did you tell him to bash their brains out one at a time against the wall? Kittens are usually drowned. That thing there took pleasure in killing each one slowly, like he took pleasure in stabbing my dog with a nail or something."

In a blind fury of temper he stalked down the barn to where a number of implements were stacked in a corner and there, throwing them one after the other aside, he clutched at the last one, crying, "Aye yes, this is it."

It was a stick with a double pointed nail thrust in the bottom, like the goads used by the drovers when driving the cattle to market. He

marched towards her again and thrust the implement in front of her

face, saying, "That... that is what he used on that animal there' he pointed backwards towards Fred 'on every visit I've made to this

house. The dog's no fighter. I wish to God he was and had worried him to death." Martha looked from him to where Nick Bailey was standing now rubbing his hand across his back and, her voice trembling, she

asked him, "Did did you injure the dog? Tell me the truth."

"No, never did, miss; never did nowt to the dog. An' you told me get rid of kittens. Didn't say how.

"Tis best to knock their brains out;

me da knocks their brains out, easier than drownin'. "

"Easier than drowning!" It was a growl, and it looked as if Harry might spring forward and use the whip again, but what he did was throw the whip on to the seat of the trap; then stooping, he examined Fred's rump and there, quite plainly visible was a fresh hole with fresh blood running from it. His bead back, he looked at her and said, "Would you deign to stoop and examine this?"

Slowly Martha moved forward and, bending down, she looked at the wound.

Then she picked up the goad from where Harry had thrown it and she

examined that too, and there, sure enough, was a thin trace of blood on its spike.

She stood still and upright, and the scene in the barn disappeared.

She felt she was alone on a great plain; it could have been on one of the moors across the river and she was looking upwards and asking God why, why He was placing on her shoulders one misfortune after

another:

Dilly ill and dying: Peg practically useless, and would be for some

time yet: Aunt Sophie at her worst: and now she would have to get rid of the little help she had outside for Nick Bailey must go. She could not keep him on after this. Perhaps she could have overlooked the

kittens. Oh, that was terrible, but to stab the dog with the goad each time he had been put into his care. No, he would have to go, there was something wrong with the boy. At the back of her mind she had always known it, but what made it worse at this moment was that it had to be pointed out to her by this doctor, by this man. Oh,

how she disliked him. Yet only a short while ago she had been feeling she was glimpsing a different side to him when he had solved one

pressing problem for her. But now she wished, oh she wished from the bottom of her heart that she owed her gratitude to anyone but him, for at bottom he was uncouth; he acted with no more restraint than would any common working man. She watched him thrust the dog on to the seat of the trap, then mount and drive out of the barn.

After turning the horse's head in the direction of the house he drew it to a momentary halt and called across to where she was standing in the opening of the barn, "I'll leave you to do what you think best with that individual; only remember his pastime may not stop at animals."

As he drove past the front of the house he cast a glance to where

Mildred stood cradling a cat in her arms at the top of the end set of steps. She was still crying and was rocking the cat like one might a child.

|| What a household! He put Bessie into a trot down the drive, then

allowed her to take her time along the rutted lane; but once they were on the main road he again trotted her briskly until they reached the rise that overlooked the curve in the river.

The hillside that sloped down to the river was bare of trees for some distance, the earth being strewn with scree and small boulders, and a number of these had been rolled into the river where the water ran

shallow to form steppingstones, and it was in the distance across these steppingstones that he noticed the approach of two figures, a young man and a young woman.

The incline of the hill was gradual and it wasn't until he had reached the top and was descending the other side that his attention was again drawn to the couple now almost below him. The young woman had her hand on the young man's lapels, she was gazing up at him. He saw the young man now take hold of her hands and draw her towards a clump of trees, then gather her into his arms and kiss her. But it was a brief

embrace; and now he was walking away back to the stepping-stones, and the girl stood watching him. But he did not turn and wave.

When the young woman turned round he saw that she had her knuckles

pressed against her mouth. Her head was not bowed, but lying back on her shoulders, and he recognized her, and she him. She stared upwards for a long moment, then she was running, and before the trap had

reached the flat stretch of road at the far side of the hill she had mounted the bank and was waiting for him.

He drew Bessie to a halt and looked down at Nancy, where she was now standing gripping the iron rail that edged the seat, and he said quite politely, "Good-afternoon, Miss Crawford." But she did not return the greeting. What she said was, "Oh, doctor!"

"Yes, what is it?"

"Please, please, don't say anything to Martha Mary, I mean you--' she jerked her head towards the river 'you may have seen my meeting with a a' her head now wagged twice before she ended, 'gentleman'..

There was a short silence, but he said, "Yes, I noticed you had a companion."

"Please' her two hands were gripping the rail now 'don't tell Martha Mary, she'd ... she'd be so upset."

"Then why do you do things that you know will upset her?"

"Because well--' She now bowed her head, then murmured, " She would say it was all foolishness and . and nothing could come of it, but there will. " Her head was up.

"What I mean, something will come of it. You see, doctor." Again she paused; then straining her face up to him she whispered, "Could I confide in you? Please."

"Do you think that wise?"

"Yes, yes, I do. I feel sure you would never give me away." They stared at each other before he said, "Well, what do you wish to tell me?"

She swallowed deeply, blinked and cast a swift glance to where Bessie was chaffing at her bit before she murmured,

"The young man you saw is William, William Brockdean, Sir Rupert's son."

"Oh!"

His whole face stretched as he thought, more trouble in the camp. The girl was surely right in not wishing her sister to get wind of this.

What did she expect of such an association for she had as much chance of marrying into the Brockdean family as he had. Less, he should say.

It was common knowledge that Sir Rupert needed money, and badly;

in fact, in their way they were as hard up as this girl's folks. He

looked down into Nancy's pretty face, so young, so full of life and the expectation of what she thought life could offer through love. He did not imagine her to be mercenary.

His expression didn't alter when she whispered, "We are to be married as soon as he comes of age."

"Really!"

"Yes. We have been secretly engaged for some time but' she put her head on one side 'it's so difficult to meet. It was different when we had the two horses but since Martha Mary got rid of Gip there's only Belle for the trap, and I can't always have her. It's difficult."