The Secret of Crickley Hall (49 page)

Magda snatched her wrist. 'Come with me. We've a place for dirty girls.' She pulled Susan to the edge of the bath and, to stop herself falling, the girl stepped out still clutching the reddened towel to her body.

Augustus grabbed her by the other arm and Maurice quickly stepped aside as brother and sister brought the bowed girl out of the bathroom between them.

'My clothes!' Susan shrieked, dragging her feet.

Augustus and his sister merely tightened their grip and pulled her along the landing.

'You will not need clothes where you're going, child,' Magda sneered.

The other children had gathered at the bottom of the stairs to the dormitory, none of them daring to venture out onto the landing. Two of the youngest, Stefan and Patience, were clinging to Eugene Smith, both of them crying.

Maurice would never forget the shame on Susan's face as she was led naked past her friends, and he would never forget the smugness he felt as he trailed behind, even though he was mystified by the girl's condition. Had she cut herself somehow, would she bleed and bleed until she was dead?

Susan screeched as the brother and sister dragged her down the stairs and across the grand hall, spots of blood dropping behind her as if to mark her path. They ignored her desperate entreaties, for she knew where they were taking her. Maurice watched from the landing balcony and was afraid for himself. There was grim spite on Magda's hard face, while Augustus stared resolutely ahead, his deep-set black eyes burning wickedly, a glistening of spittle on his thin lower lip. It was then that Maurice, only twelve years old but big for his age and both cunning and smart, truly understood that there was madness in his guardian, which ran just beneath the surface, ready to erupt at any given moment. The boy had witnessed the man's wrath many times, but this evening there was a light behind Augustus's dark eyes that hinted at barely suppressed violence and insanity. Maurice sensed it as much as he saw it and he was in a terrified kind of awe. Somehow, perception told him he would always be in terror and awe of Augustus Cribben, even after the man was dead.

Magda waited at the cellar door as her brother took the recalcitrant girl below. The sound of Susan's shrill remonstrations came back out into the hall, amplified by the cellar's brick walls and the narrow staircase. Suddenly, her cries were cut off.

Maurice heard heavy footsteps on the creaky narrow stairs, and then Augustus stood in the doorway next to Magda. The children, who had at last crept out onto the landing to look through the balustrade, all scooted back upstairs to the dormitory. Brenda Prosser, having dressed and left the bathroom, followed after them. But Maurice continued to watch, scared but fascinated. At that point, he seriously wondered if Susan Trainer had been murdered in the cellar. Augustus's words to his sister swiftly put an end to this notion.

'She'll remain there until the impurity has been purged from her body. I've counselled her to pray for her damaged soul and she is not to eat until her discharge is complete.'

'That will be days, brother,' Maurice heard Magda say.

Augustus's features were like granite, tough and uncompromising. 'That will be her penance. You'll give her water only.'

Without another word being said, Magda locked the cellar door and followed her brother into the sitting room that was used as an office. Another entry for the black book, thought Maurice, glad that his own name had never featured on its pages.

He sat on the stairs for a while afterwards, waiting to be called by his master or mistress. An hour went by and still they hadn't left the office, so reluctantly Maurice made his way up to his bed in the dormitory.

It was the next morning that things began to go wrong at Crickley Hall.

•

Maurice Stafford settled more comfortably in his corner seat at the Barnaby Inn. As he sipped his last brandy, he listened to the storm that raged outside. It was ironic that as a boy he had looked much older than his age, for now he looked much younger than his seventy-five years. The crowd in the bar had thinned out considerably, some customers having openly admitted they were worried about the ceaseless downpour and the effect it might have on the high moors. All were aware of the harbour village's history, even though the last great flood was more than sixty years ago, and they wondered if all the precautions taken since were enough to avert another disaster.

Maurice placed the bowled glass on the table and smiled to himself. He was unconcerned. He'd survived one flood, he could survive another. At ease with himself, he resumed the contemplation of his former life.

•

Miss Linnet. Miss Nancy Linnet. That fucking seditious little bitch. Maurice rarely swore, even in his thoughts. Augustus Cribben wouldn't like him to swear. But it was difficult not to be furious with the teacher who had upset everything.

He remembered she had arrived at Crickley Hall that morning at her usual starting time of 7.45. As soon as she'd gone into class she noticed that one of her pupils was missing. Where is Susan Trainer? she asked the children. No one answered at first, they were too frightened to, but when Miss Linnet asked again, Brenda Prosser, the ten-year-old girl who had been with Susan in the bathroom the previous night, hesitantly spoke up. She told the teacher that Susan was locked in the cellar. Miss Linnet had been aghast, especially when she learned the girl had been down there all night, and then she had been angry when she found out the reason for the punishment.

She marched straight out of the classroom.

Maurice gave Brenda a threatening look. 'You're in trouble,' he told her.

Timid though they had become at Crickley Hall, the older children crowded round the classroom's open door and listened. Only Maurice was bold enough to take a step outside the door.

They could hear Miss Linnet remonstrating with Magda Cribben in the office, and although they could not catch every single word, they caught the drift of what was being said.

The young teacher was telling the older woman how outrageous it was for Susan Trainer to have been incarcerated in the cellar all night. Magda's replies were spoken in a low, even voice, but the children could tell she was cross. She warned Miss Linnet not to interfere, that school discipline had nothing to do with her. Only when Miss Linnet insisted that Susan had done nothing wrong, that what had happened was perfectly natural for a growing girl, did Magda raise her voice.

'The girl is dirty! She's too young to bear the curse! She must have done something very wicked to have such punishment brought down on her so soon!'

'There is too much punishment for all the children in this school. They are afraid even to speak. It's all I can do to coax a smile from them, so browbeaten are they.'

'Mr Cribben will hear of this impertinence,' Magda responded stiffly.

Maurice remembered that Augustus Cribben had left the house earlier that morning to catch the bus to Merrybridge where he had business in the local council offices.

'Very well.' Miss Linnet sounded defiant. 'I want to take the matter up with him. The situation cannot continue like this. I've a mind to report you to the school inspectors and the local authorities.'

With that, the teacher strode back through the office doorway and went straight to the cellar door. As always, the key was in the lock and she turned it with a swift twist of her good wrist. Reaching inside, she switched on the stair light, and they heard her clumping down to the well room below.

She must have had a conversation with Susan Trainer, or at least spent time comforting her, for it was several minutes before she reappeared again, now with the naked girl, who cowered against her, ashamed and exhausted. Susan held the blood-sodden towel to her lap, but blood still managed to drip and leave tiny spots across the hall's stone floor. The older children were frozen in the classroom doorway, watching the teacher help their friend up the broad stairway, taking her to the bathroom or dormitory. But when Magda appeared in the office doorway, her face incandescent with rage, they scattered back to their desk tables.

It was evident when Miss Linnet returned to the hall that she and Susan Trainer had had a long conversation. Her small pretty lips were set in a grim line and anger blazed fiercely in her hazel eyes. As usual, her long knitted shawl covered her withered arm and hand, but her other hand was clenched into a tight fist. She marched across the hall and went straight through to the office to confront Magda once again, who had already returned to her desk.

Maurice still lingered by the classroom door, and half turned to hush the other children who were whispering excitedly to one another. Wary of him, they fell silent immediately.

He listened again to the sound of Miss Linnet and Magda's voices.

'… down to the village pharmacist…' the young teacher was saying. 'I shall purchase the appropriate items for poor Susan and show her how to use them.'

'You will not leave the classroom this morning,' said Magda and Maurice thought there was a trace of uncertainty in her otherwise stern tone. 'The girl may use old towels 'til the flow ceases.'

Flow? Flow of blood? Maurice was too confused to understand any of it. Was Susan bleeding from somewhere inside her body? If so, how had it happened? Perhaps Magda would explain it to him later. All he knew at that moment was that Susan had committed some grave sin for which she was being disciplined.

'Don't be absurd.' Miss Linnet's voice was raised. He had never heard her speak like this before; she was usually so quiet and well mannered. 'She needs proper sanitary towels and she must have them as soon as possible. Her first period has frightened her and made her unwell. I don't think spending the night without clothes in a cold damp cellar has helped matters.'

'How dare you speak to me in this manner?' Uncertainty had now been ousted by Magda's indignation. 'Mr Cribben will hear of your impudence the moment he returns. You, a chit of a girl, barely an adult yourself, daring to speak to me in this fashion.'

'I shall look forward to that moment. I've a few things to say to him about the running of this establishment. You and your brother are unnecessarily cruel to these orphans…'

Maurice was amazed at the defiance in the teacher's attitude. He would never have guessed she had the gumption to act so boldly. Until now, she had appeared to be a timid little creature.

'… and it has to stop. They deserve to be treated kindly and without these dreadful corrections you impose on them. I've spoken with Susan and she has told me of your despicable punishments when I am not here. I've suspected it was so since I first came to Crickley Hall. The children are too meek and fearful—no, terrified—of you and Mr Cribben, and I didn't quite understand the reason. Now I know all of it, and I will not allow it to carry on. I intend to contact the authorities by letter and insist they send inspectors to investigate my complaints. I shall make sure the children speak up.'

'You will do no such thing.'

Maurice almost shuddered at Magda's menace.

'Nothing will prevent me. I trust you will take charge of the class while I go to the village for poor Susan?'

She came to the door again and Maurice heard hurried footsteps behind her as Magda followed. Miss Linnet had got as far as the open cellar door when Magda called her. She turned to face the woman who stormed towards her.

Magda shouted into the teacher's face. 'You will not leave this house!'

Maurice had never seen Magda so angry. Cross, yes, severe, it went with her nature, but never before had he watched her lose control like this, not even when she had cause to strike the children with her leather belt (but then, that was always carried out coldly). Her hard features were contorted, her face more white than usual, and her words had been spat out—literally, for he had seen the spittle fly from her mouth.

At first, whether in shock or to create space between herself and the raging woman, Miss Linnet retreated a step so that her back was to the open doorway behind her. But then she stood her ground, her face red as Magda's was white. She seemed consciously to control herself.

'Susan needs help, not punishment,' she said firmly. 'All the children need care and attention, not constant hardship, which is all they get from you and your brother.'

'You will not leave this house!' Magda repeated, taking another step closer to the teacher. 'Go back to the classroom immediately!'

Maurice felt his heart pound and he forgot to take a breath.

'You wretched child with your shrivelled arm. What have you done to cause the Lord's castigation?'

'I was born this way,' Miss Linnet replied evenly, Magda's jibe somehow calming rather than upsetting her. Perhaps experience of similar cruel remarks had taught her how to deal with it. 'Now please move out of my way. I'm going to the village.'

Magda's fury finally erupted. 'You evil girl!' she screeched and took another step towards the teacher, her arms stretched forward as she came. With great force she pushed at Miss Linnet's shoulders.

Astonished, the teacher teetered on the threshold of the cellar stairway. But Magda did not stop at one push. Incensed—and afraid of betrayal—she pushed the teacher again, even harder this time, and Miss Linnet toppled backwards.

Maurice watched in fascinated awe as the teacher fell into the darkness behind her. He heard her body tumbling down, striking the side walls as well as the steps as she went. Curiosity overcame trepidation and he ran forward to see what had happened to the young woman; the sound of her body hitting the concrete floor below with a resounding crunch came back up to him.

Magda seemed frozen to the spot when he reached her. She was staring into the cellar's blackness, but her eyes were unfocused, seeing nothing at all.

'Have you killed her, miss?' (Even when they were in bed together he called her 'miss'.) He turned away from her to squint into the gloom.

She did not answer and when he looked round at her, he saw something that might have been panic in those cold black eyes of hers. Then she appeared to gather herself—her shoulders twitched and stiffened, her chin lifted a fraction.