Authors: Iris Gower
‘Mr Cullen was going to be questioned on the word of a very influential lady. When Mr Cullen ran away, it looked very bad for him.’
Constable Danby rose to his feet and shrugged his broad shoulders into his coat, sometime in the not too distant future the policeman would be as large as his mother, Liam thought.
‘The matter can easily be cleared up, I’m sure,’ Jerry Danby said easily. ‘The important question is, were you ever alone with the lady?’
Liam shook his head. ‘No, I was in the sitting-room when Mrs Hopkins called to see me and there were several other guests there at the time.’
‘So, if the lady did lose her pin, and I must say there seems to be some doubt about that, then anyone could have picked it up.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Right then, I can’t see there’s any problem, shall we go Mr Cullen?’
The trip to the police station was a short one and as Liam entered the ornate portico, he took a deep breath.
‘Don’t worry, sir,’ Constable Danby said, ‘everything is going to be all right.’
Sergeant Meadows was at the desk, his hair was grizzled grey and his colour high, he drank too much gin and longed for retirement. He looked up at Liam and then turned with raised eyebrows to Jerry Danby.
‘Mr Cullen has come in voluntarily,’ Danby said easily. ‘Gave himself into my charge, he did, and, as far as I can see, there’s no reason to detain him.’
‘Oh, so you are an authority on the law now, are you, son?’ The older police officer rose to his feet and stared at Constable Danby with narrowed eyes.
Seamus stepped forward. ‘I think I can claim
I
know something about it, I’m a lawyer,’ he said easily. ‘It seems that there were other people seated in the lounge of the Castle Hotel when the pin went missing. I fail to see why my client should be held responsible any more than the other guests present at the time.’
‘But Mr Cullen was the one talking to Mrs Hopkins, he was the one who was close enough to take the item.’
‘So you think he might have unpinned it from the lady’s bodice then?’
Sergeant Meadows looked confused. ‘Well, no.’
‘No,’ Seamus said equitably, ‘I am sure Mrs Hopkins would have noticed such an obvious move.’
‘Well, she dropped it, that’s clear as daylight.’
‘And where exactly did the lady drop the pin; in the street, in the lobby of the hotel, in the sitting-room, where?’
‘Well, I don’t know.’ Sergeant Meadows shook his head as though to clear it.
‘I would advise you that with such a flimsy case you would put your own career in jeopardy if you were to detain my client.’
‘Better take his details and let him go, sir,’ Constable Danby advised in a low voice.
Meadows shot him a venomous look and sat down at his desk, taking up a pen and dipping it into the ink with fierce jabs of his hand.
Liam sighed with relief. He was careful not to look at the young policeman, he could see that Danby would come in for a certain amount of ire from his older colleague.
It was less than half an hour later when Liam walked from the station a free man, his name cleared. He turned to Seamus and shook his hand. ‘Thank the good Lord you were here.’
‘Ah well, save your thanks,’ Seamus looked grave. ‘I’ve had disturbing news from home, your farm is in some sort of trouble.’ He paused, ‘Look, I think I’ve got a lead on the whereabouts of Catherine O’Conner, something Danby said. I’ll continue the search here. You’d best get back to Ireland on the next boat.’
Catherine moved along the floor of the shop, her head high, her hands smoothing down her skirt nervously. She was very aware of her new clothes. Even more aware of the fine, comfortable boots made for her by Hari Grenfell. She felt she was taking some sort of test, she was about to serve her first customer.
‘Good morning, madam, can I help you?’ Catherine hoped that her tone was the right mixture of deference and confidence.
‘Catherine! How are you? I must say this is a surprise.’ Ellie Bennett held out her hand, it was warm and, with a feeling of self-consciousness, Catherine shook it briefly.
‘I’m working for Mrs Grenfell now,’ Catherine said. ‘Hoping I have the makings of a good saleslady.’
‘But Catherine, what on earth made you leave Honey’s Farm? It was where you were born.’
‘I had no choice,’ Catherine said, ‘I couldn’t afford to keep up my payments to the bank and the farm was sold.’
‘Well, I hope it went to someone who loved the land as you did,’ Ellie said gently.
‘Mrs Hopkins bought it, Boyo … Boyo Hopkins’s wife.’
‘Perhaps it’s for the best,’ Ellie was sympathetic. ‘It must have been lonely and very hard work for you and at least you know that Boyo will care for the farm, make it thrive again. Honey’s Farm is part of his life as well as yours, he will do his very best to make it work. I’m sure you two are still very good friends aren’t you?’
‘What can I show you, Mrs Bennett?’ Catherine turned to hide the hot colour that came to her face. She led Ellie towards one of the ornate chairs that graced the shop floor.
Catherine was aware of Doreen placing a finished hat on a stand and watching her, urging her on to success. When Catherine glanced towards her, Doreen winked and mouthed the words ‘Give ’em hell!’
Catherine resisted the urge to laugh. ‘Is it boots you want, Mrs Bennett, or slippers? We have a fine new stock of both.’
Ellie relaxed and placed her bag on the carpet, drawing off her gloves with quick movements. ‘Oh, I can’t afford to buy boots and slippers, Catherine, I’m just the wife of a poor cleric, remember?’
Catherine did remember, she remembered the shock waves that shook the town when Ellie Bennett handed over
Glyn Hir
tannery and the fortune that went with it to Boyo. It was only much later that Ellie’s reasons had become clear. Boyo, so the gossips said, was old Jubilee Hopkins’s grandson.
Now Ellie was Mrs Daniel Bennett and she seemed completely happy with her role as the wife of a struggling cleric, as she put it.
‘No, it’s just a pair of house slippers, that’s all I want for now. Can you show me something not too expensive?’
Catherine’s feelings of nervousness vanished, she felt exhilarated as she brought a selection of slippers for Ellie’s inspection. She even found she was enjoying herself. She eventually sold Ellie a pair of slippers in black brocade, decorated with tiny jet beads. And, in spite of Ellie’s protestations of poverty, persuaded her to buy a fine pair of walking boots that were marked down in price because of a scuff on one of the heels.
‘Thank you, Catherine,’ Ellie smiled ruefully as she pulled on her gloves and rose to her feet. ‘I think you are going to make an excellent saleslady.’
When Ellie had left, Doreen came forward, smiling her approval.
‘Well done, little Cath, like the lady said, we’ll make a saleslady of you yet.’ She touched Catherine’s shoulder, ‘And the more sales you make, the more commission you get, so it’s all up to you.’
‘That’s news to me,’ Catherine said, her eyebrows raised. ‘I didn’t think I would get anything except my wages for selling shoes.’
‘Well, you learn something every day, don’t you? Mrs Grenfell believes in encouraging us to do well, not in pushing us like slaves the way some bosses do.’
‘If I work hard, sell plenty of shoes, perhaps soon I’ll be able to get my own place,’ Catherine said wistfully. ‘It’s good of Mrs Grenfell to let me stay here in the house but I feel I’m intruding, taking advantage of her good nature.’
‘Look,’ Doreen rubbed her cheek with her forefinger, ‘why don’t you have a room at my place?’
‘Sounds lovely,’ Catherine said, ‘but what about your husband, won’t he have something to say about that?’
‘
Duw
, I haven’t got no husband! Pete Meadows ran out on me years ago and good riddance to him I say. Policeman he is, so-called respectable, well I could tell you a thing or two about him that would make your hair curl.’
She paused to take a breath. ‘Anyway, I could let you have the big bedroom, we could turn it into a sitting-room so that you could be private like.’
‘But wouldn’t I be in the way?’ Catherine wanted badly to accept Doreen’s offer, the loneliness in the evenings was becoming unbearable and yet she was reluctant to impose on the other woman’s friendship.
‘The extra rent would help me, mind.’ Doreen urged as if sensing something of Catherine’s thoughts.
‘In that case, I’d love to come and live with you.’ Catherine felt like hugging Doreen but at that moment, the door opened and a group of women swept into the shop.
‘Give me the weekend to get the place right and then I’ll take you over there Monday, right?’
Doreen swept away and lowered her head to the ladies as though they were royalty. The women preened and Catherine smiled to herself, she could learn a thing or two from Doreen Meadows.
It was late in the evening when she heard a knocking on the back door of the flat. Cautiously, Catherine moved to the small window and peered outside. It was growing dark and all she could see was a shadowy figure outlined against the glow of the lamplight. The figure moved and she saw a glint of red hair.
‘Who’s there?’ she called. With mixed feelings she hesitated, knowing full well who was standing outside. But she didn’t want to see Liam, he was part of her past; a lover for one night but she had never loved him, had she?
‘It’s me, Catherine, open the door, please.’ He sounded anxious, unlike his usual calm self and Catherine drew back the bolts.
‘Come in, Liam,’ Catherine spoke grudgingly. ‘How did you find out where I was staying?’
‘I had a great deal of help. Thank God you are safe and well.’ Liam flopped into a chair and she saw that his clothes were mud-stained, his hair awry. There were shadows beneath his eyes.
‘What is it, Liam, what’s wrong?’ She sat down quickly beside him and took one of his hands in hers. He was cold, his fingers, gripping hers, felt icy to the touch.
‘I’ve been to Ireland, I’ve just got back.’ He looked directly at her, ‘It’s bad news; the crops are poisoned, the new machinery broken and useless. My investment is gone, the profit I made last year has vanished into the blue.’
‘But Liam, how could this happen, you were doing so well?’
‘Someone has it in for me that’s sure enough, Catherine, and I think I know just who the bastard that wants me ruined is.’
Catherine put her hand to her mouth trying to sort out her tangled thoughts. ‘Liam, now be calm, don’t jump to conclusions.’
‘I’m not jumping to conclusions, colleen, the only man who hates my guts enough to sicken my animals, sour the milk and try to destroy my livelihood is Boyo Hopkins. I’ve come back to have it out with him, make him wish he had never been born, I’ll burn his house around his ears.’
‘No! He wouldn’t do a thing like that.’ Catherine spoke without thinking. She felt a cold hand of fear trickle through her, Boyo’s wife could be capable of such an act but even she would not go to such lengths, surely?
‘The man is offloading Honey’s Farm in small parcels like so much ballast,’ Liam said.
‘I don’t believe it.’ Catherine’s voice sounded hoarse even to her own ears.
‘Don’t you know what’s going on under your nose, Cath? The man is wreaking revenge on me and on you.’
‘But why, what have we done?’
Liam held her hands even tighter. ‘He knows we are lovers. Hopkins is far from stupid and I reckon that if the man can’t have you himself then he’ll ruin both our lives rather than let us be happy.’
‘Liam, we slept together once, that doesn’t make us lovers.’ She faced him squarely. ‘I’m sorry, Liam, I should have been honest with you; I am not in love with you.’
‘I could make you love me,’ Liam said softly, ‘and for now, liking will do, sure it will.’
Catherine shook her head. ‘No, it wouldn’t work, I can’t marry you, Liam, I just can’t.’
‘Is it because I’m ruined that you don’t want me, is money so important to you then, Catherine?’
‘No!’ She put her arm around him and tried to lead him to a chair near the fire. ‘It’s not that at all. Sit down Liam, I’ll get us something to drink.’
He ignored her words and pulled her closer and then his mouth was on hers. She felt him tremble and held him closer, pity turning her stomach to ice.
‘Don’t turn away from me now, Catherine, not now when I need you so badly.’ He sounded near to tears.
‘Liam, you’ll always be my friend.’ She tried to draw away from him but he held her fast.
‘Catherine, please think about it. I’ll work hard, I’ll sell up what is left of my place in Ireland. I’ll take a job here, bring in good money for us, we could have such a wonderful life if we work together.’
‘Take it slowly, now,’ Catherine urged. ‘Before you make any hasty decisions, think of what it will mean to your family. Where would Maeve live and your father and your sister? Where would they go? How would they manage without you?’
He released her and sank into the chair, his head in his hands. ‘You’re right sure enough, I have responsibilities, I can’t desert my family, not now.’
Catherine felt a sense of relief, she had her life mapped out, her job, her new home with Doreen. The only one she would be responsible for was herself.
‘At least think about us, Catherine, I don’t think I can live without you.’
‘All right, Liam,’ Catherine said softly. ‘I’ll think about what you have said, I promise.’
Liam seemed beaten, his hair was tangled, his eyes shadowed with weariness. New lines of worry were forming about his eyes and mouth. On an impulse, Catherine knelt before him and put her hands on his cheeks.
‘Liam, nothing is as bad as it first seems, I’ve learned that much. Perhaps, even now, you can rescue the farm; the land is lush and good, the house you live in is large and roomy, surely there is a way around your difficulties.’
‘Things are bad in Ireland just now,’ Liam replied. ‘Prices are falling, there is no money about for investments. Whoever has done this thing to me chose the right moment to bring about my downfall.’
‘It wouldn’t be Boyo, I know that much,’ Catherine said quickly. ‘It’s more likely to be that wife of his.’
Liam rested his head on her shoulder. ‘You could well be right but what’s done is done; my reputation, my fine way of life, my farm, all that is ruined.’