The Daughters Of Red Hill Hall (32 page)

‘A young woman. She was ringing your doorbell as I came home. I told her you weren’t in and I think she then went away.’ Alan sighed and wiped a hand across his forehead. ‘Good job it isn’t raining, what with us sitting out here, eh?’

‘There’s the police. I’ll fill them in on what’s happened,’ Ben said. He went over to the police car, which had pulled up outside, and spoke to them. A few minutes later the gas emergency van arrived. The gasman went inside.

‘We’ll be able to go back indoors soon, Alan,’ said Gemma, patting the old man gently on the shoulder. A few other neighbours had come out to see what was going on, and one brought out mugs of tea. Ben came back over to them and they sipped tea while waiting to be allowed back inside.

Eventually the gas engineer came out, and had a word with the police, who then left. He then crossed the road to speak to Gemma and Ben.

‘It’s safe to go back inside. The gas has dispersed. It looks like someone left the gas hob on, and the safety cut-out valve is stuck. Clogged up with grease. You should get that fixed, and be more careful – don’t leave the gas on and clean up any grease you spill before it can cause a problem.’ He glared at them sternly. ‘That safety valve is there for a reason, you know. It can’t do its job if you let it get gummed up like that. Anyway, I’ll be off, now.’ He nodded, and went back to his van.

Gemma looked at Ben. ‘I did not leave the hob on. I know I did not leave the hob on. I always check it when I leave the house. You know I do.’

‘OK. Don’t think it was me, either. I didn’t use it this morning. Come on, Alan, you can go back inside now. Are you going to be all right?’ Ben said.

‘Yes, I’m fine. Bit of excitement, eh?’ He gave a mock salute, trotted across the road and went back inside.

Gemma returned the tea mugs to the neighbour who’d brought them out, and then joined Ben in the street. ‘How on earth did that gas get left on? Darn it, Alan’s pulled the door shut behind him. I haven’t got my key. I dropped my handbag upstairs.’

‘You’ve got a key safe, haven’t you?’ Ben said.

Gemma rolled her eyes. ‘So I have. Doh.’ It was to the left of the communal front door. She opened the shutter that covered the key safe’s combination lock. ‘That’s funny.’

‘What?’

‘Call me OCD but I always leave the combination set at all 9s if ever I use this key. But look, it’s all random. Actually, two of the numbers are the right ones. Someone’s used this key.’

‘Who knows the combination?’

‘Me, Mum and Dad, you.’

‘Is that all?’

‘And Nat. I told her it so she could let herself in to water my plants while we were on holiday last summer.’

‘Alan said a young woman called round earlier. You don’t think…’

Gemma stared at Ben. ‘What are you suggesting?’

‘Let’s go inside. We need something stronger than tea.’

Upstairs, Gemma poured them both a glass of wine. Ben was peering at the hob. ‘Your hob’s pretty new, isn’t it? Yet there’s thick grease on that shut-off valve.’ He poked at it, then sniffed the grease on his finger. ‘Smells more like engine grease. Not something you’d have been cooking with.’

‘What? Do you think someone came in here and deliberately gummed up the valve and turned the gas on?’ Gemma stared at him.

‘I think it’s quite possible. And if so, I think that person would have been Nat.’

‘Jesus.’ Gemma sat down heavily. ‘But why?’

‘Gemma, look. She tried and nearly succeeded in destroying our relationship. She stole your identity and made those credit card purchases. She tried to extort money from your parents. For some reason she’s out to hurt you.’

‘But she wouldn’t do this – I mean, if you hadn’t stopped me flicking the light switch, there could have been an explosion. We could
both
have been killed.’ She took a huge gulp of wine, then put her glass down. Her hand was shaking. Surely Nat wouldn’t have wanted to physically harm them?

Ben took hold of both her hands and looked her in the eye. ‘Maybe that’s what she intended. Gem, I think we need to go to the police with this. I know you didn’t want to before, but now, surely…?’

She shook her head. ‘No, we can’t do that. We don’t have any evidence it was her.’

‘We do! Alan saw her, and then we know someone used the key from the key safe. She’s the only person who knew the combination.’

Gemma pulled her hands away from his and took another gulp of her wine. ‘There’s no concrete evidence she is the one who opened the key safe. I know someone did because I always leave the combination on all 9s but that wouldn’t be strong enough for the police, believe me. And although Alan saw her he thought she’d rung the doorbell and then left. The valve could have accidentally got stuck. It’s not definite sabotage. No. We can’t go to the police.’

‘Something has to be done to stop her doing all this to you.’ Ben’s voice was cold. ‘Why are you protecting her, despite all she’s done? I don’t understand it.’

‘She was my best friend for so long. We were like that.’ Gemma held up her crossed fingers. ‘I mean, there’s something special about best friends, isn’t there? Maybe it’s different for blokes, but a best girlfriend, well, they’re always there for you. They’ll do anything for you, and you would for them. And that was us – Nat and me. In some ways, when I think of all we’ve shared together over the years, I’ve been closer to Nat than anyone. Including you, love.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘I just can’t believe she really wants to hurt me.’

‘She has already hurt you, Gem. More than once. Christ, I don’t want to risk losing you to that madwoman!’ Ben sat beside her and held her tight.

‘You won’t lose me. This – I don’t know – this is all some kind of horrible mistake. If she did come in here tonight she can’t have left the gas on intentionally. I just don’t believe that.’

‘Grease on the safety valve?’ Ben raised his eyebrows at her.

‘Could have been there since I bought it? Hob’s only two years old.’

‘Rubbish. The manufacturers wouldn’t send it out in that condition. Someone’s tampered with it. And be honest, you know she did. It must be her. There’s no other explanation.’

Gemma felt the tears, long held back, well up and spill over. ‘I want there to be another explanation, Ben! I can’t believe she’d do that. I just don’t want to believe it. We were at school together. We used to pool our lunch box contents. She’d eat my ham sandwiches and I’d eat her cheese-strings. We went on our first dates together – aged fourteen – us and Billy McIntosh and Charlie Wossname. We went to the cinema. The boys wanted to see the
Star Wars
film again but we refused and all ended up seeing
Toy Story 2
. We’ve done so much together over the years. She wouldn’t try to kill me. She wouldn’t, Ben!’

He held her as she sobbed on his shoulder. ‘Shh, love. It’s all right. Listen, I’ll stay with you until all this is sorted out, one way or the other. I’m not leaving you.’

‘You’ve been here permanently since last Wednesday anyway,’ she sniffed.

‘I know. Gem, I love you. I don’t ever want to leave you.’

‘I’m not even going to let you leave me.’ She held him tighter. He felt warm and solid, and she felt safe in his arms. But what could she do about Nat? He was right – she knew it. The gas leak was Nat’s doing. For whatever reason, Nat was trying to destroy her. Gemma knew she would have to confront her again. But after an attack like this, which could have killed not only herself but also Ben, could there really be a chance to resolve things by simply talking it through? It didn’t seem very likely. She needed to come up with some more drastic solution.

‘Come on, love. Finish your drink and let’s get to bed. It’s late and we’ve both got work tomorrow.’ Ben’s gentle voice of calm broke into her thoughts. She drained her glass and followed him into the bedroom, knowing full well that sleep would be a long way off.

She woke up with the dawn, the birds outside her open window heralding the start of a bright, warm day. She was curled in Ben’s arms, and nuzzled happily against his shoulder while still in that delicious state of part sleep, part wakefulness.

And then she remembered the events of the previous night, and her decision, reached at some point in the darkest part of the night, after she’d lain awake and restless for hours. She ran through her plan in her mind. Yes, it would work. She felt a kinship with Rebecca Winton whose best friend and half-sister had tried to destroy her – undermining her relationship with her fiancé and turning her father against her so that he changed his will. Rebecca too had felt threatened, and if Gemma’s theory was right, had then turned against Sarah and shot her. Rebecca must have realised that she could not carry on with Sarah in her life, and had taken steps to remove her.

The long insomniac hours while Ben snored gently at her side had convinced Gemma that she too could not continue with Nat in her life. Who knew what Nat would do next? She would be forever looking over her shoulder all the while Nat was around. She would be living in fear, for Ben as well as for herself. And that was no way to be.

She had to get rid of Nat. There was no other answer.

Chapter 30

July 1839

A few weeks after Charles’s return from the dead, as Rebecca often thought of it, he asked her once more to marry him. She accepted readily. Without Sarah to undermine things this time she was confident everything would work out.

And indeed, a month later they were married, at the little church in the village. Everyone turned out to see the happy couple. Another month after that they moved to Charles’s ancestral home – Carlstone Hall in Leicestershire, which had been renovated ready to receive its new mistress.

Rebecca had not been sad to leave Red Hill Hall. Although it had been her childhood home, and the only home she had ever known, there were far too many distressing memories associated with it now. And, she realised, it would be no bad thing to move away from Constable Barnsworth in case he ever took it into his head to re-investigate Sarah’s death. The magistrate had ruled that the case should remain classified as open and unsolved.

Not so with the case of the body in the well. Dorothy Arthur had been called upon to look at the clothing retrieved from the well. She identified it as having belonged to her brother – including the jacket, which Dorothy said had been a present to him from Miss Cooper – which satisfied the constable and magistrate that the body was that of Jed Arthur. A new gravestone with the correct name upon it was commissioned and paid for by Charles. A second inquest was held and a verdict of accidental death returned – it was assumed that Jed had somehow overbalanced near the well and tumbled in.

Rebecca wasn’t so sure. She had reread Sarah’s diary. She suspected Sarah may have pushed Jed into the well to get rid of him, so that he could never come forward and claim her child as his own. He had presumably outlived his usefulness. Though how Sarah had planned to have a baby by herself, unmarried, was a mystery. Rebecca could not conceive of a way Sarah could have managed this, without completely losing her standing in society, mistress of Red Hill Hall or not. She must have assumed that somehow or other she would get her claws into Charles and become a respectable married woman.

Well, it was all in the past now, Rebecca thought. Sarah was gone, as was her unborn child and the child’s father. It was time for a fresh start for herself and Charles, in Carlstone Hall, in a county where she was not known.

Rebecca strolled through the gardens of Carlstone Hall, her hand protectively across her midriff. It was a perfect summer’s day, the type where the breeze felt like a lover’s caress, floral scents and birdsong filled the air. The events of the previous summer at Red Hill Hall seemed a distant, bad dream. Life was so much better now. Her marriage to Charles was a success – they were deeply in love and spent as much time as possible together, when Charles’s business commitments allowed it. He had employed an estate manager at Red Hill Hall and visited just twice a year to go over accounts. Another estate manager was employed at Carlstone Hall, but even so, Charles had other business interests in London and Paris. He was away now – at Red Hill Hall, spending a few days in Dorset to check on the estate management and authorise any necessary expenditure. Rebecca was counting the days – no, the hours now, for he was due back today – until he was due to return.

She had felt the baby quicken that morning, and couldn’t wait to tell him of her pregnancy, see his delight at the prospect of becoming a father. He would put his hand on her belly and perhaps feel the baby move too. It was miraculous, this life starting inside her. Just as she had started a new life for herself with Charles, so they had managed to create another. With a child, the product of their love, life would be complete and perfect. Nothing could spoil it.

‘Rebecca? Ah, there you are.’

She looked up towards the house to see Charles striding across the lawns towards her. He was back already, sooner than she had expected.

‘Charles, my love! How was your trip? I am so excited to see you again. Wait till I tell you…’

He held up a hand to stop her. ‘Shh, please. I must speak with you.’

‘Of course! But first hold me and say you are glad to be with me again!’ She reached for him but he turned away and took a step back, his face twisted into an expression of confusion.

‘Please sit, Rebecca, and let me speak.’ He indicated a bench, set beneath a trellis arch of roses, and she perched herself upon it. He remained standing.

‘What is it, Charles? What has happened?’

He coughed, and sighed deeply before replying. ‘This is going to be difficult for us both. But I must speak. I always hoped that our relationship would be one of openness and honesty, and that neither of us would keep secrets from the other. It pains me to find this is not the case. Rebecca, you have not told me everything about the events of last summer, have you?’

‘I – I have told you the truth,’ she said, but she could hear the falter in her own voice. What had he discovered? And how?

‘You have not told me everything. Rebecca, I was searching for some missing estate receipts, from last year. One of the servants suggested you had kept some papers in a bureau in your old rooms, so I went to look there. Perhaps it was wrong of me to go through your private papers, but I thought you had brought everything you wanted here, and that anything left in Dorset was connected to the estate. So I searched your bureau. I did not find what I was looking for, but I did find some very enlightening papers. Not yours, but Sarah’s.’