Jackson Is Missing

by Wendy Gill

  Dowager Lady Singleton looked at her grandson, “Happy Isaac?”

  “I am quite stunned grandmamma. I have waited for this day for four years. If Charlotte cannot believe how easy the whole thing has been for her, how do you think I feel? I am on top of the world grandmamma. What about you, are you happy for me?”

  "She was always the one for you. Charlotte has always been my favourite out of all the young ladies you have brought here, none have compared to our Charlotte. Here take this and give it to her as a wedding present from me.

  “They look better on her young neck than they do on mine and I shall never wear them again. All my jewellery shall be hers one day anyway, what difference does it make if she gets them now, before I am dead. None what-so-ever.” The dowager handed Isaac the diamond necklace Charlotte had worn for her wedding.

  Isaac took the diamond necklace, kissed his grandmamma and left.

  After her grandson had left the dowager said to Miss Tubby, “Lily I have decided to go to the ball. So be it if I am being pushed in a wheelchair, I am determined to go. Now, please find me out a gown and let me push the boat out one more time.”

  “Do you think that is wise my lady? The doctor said you have to take things easy and not overdo it.” Miss Tubby looked doubtful at her mistress.

  “Lily, I am turned eighty years old, if I want to go to the ball, I shall go to the ball. It is such a long time since I attended a ball and this one is so very, very special. If I do not go I shall regret it until the day I die, so find me out a gown, for I am determined to go, with or without you.”

  “Very well, my lady, as you wish. Do you wish me to attend the ball with you?” Miss Tubby asked.

  Miss Tubby’s name did not reflect her size. Although she was on the small side, she was a very thin woman with grey hair tied back in a bun in the nape of her neck.

  “Of course, I want you to attend the ball with me Lily. Who else would I want to push my wheelchair? You have pushed me around for the past thirty odd years, and I do not mean only since I have been reduced to the wheelchair. Do you have anything suitable to wear?”

  “No, my lady, I do not, but this is not about me is it. I shall dress you up in your finest gown and cover you in jewels. You shall be the best dressed lady there.”

  "No Lily, I do not want to outshine the bride, just a nice ball gown and maybe my pearls.

  “But somewhere in my wardrobe you will find some old gowns of mine that I wore when I was much, much slimmer and much, much younger. You might find one that will fit you and if it needs any amending, you will have time to put the odd stitch to it and make it fit.”

  “Thank you, my lady, I should love that above all things. I have never had a ball gown and I have never been to a grand ball. I am so excited I can hardly wait.”

  “Well then,” laughed the dowager, “Go heat me some water for a bath and while I am having a soak, you may raid my wardrobe to your heart’s content.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Lord Henry Mooreway was sitting opposite his mother watching her closely, his breathing shallow, he did not know what to expect. What he did know was, when it happened he would be at the receiving end of it.

  Lady Mooreway was rigged out in all her finery ready to greet her guests.

  Sitting in a deep cushioned armchair, her hands resting on the arm rests, her fingers drumming out a nondescript tune. She was not moving, apart from the steady up and down movement of her fingers, her eyes looked straight forward, and her face cruel, and filled with fury.

  The servants were standing to attention at the rear of the room.

  Through open connecting doors stood the empty ballroom with a long table at the head of the room, covered with a snow-white tablecloth which was laden with food and drink.

  There was not a single guest in attendance.

  “Henry, this is all your fault, you are a worthless piece of manhood, you are just like your father. He was a waste of time too. You could not manage to lead that girl Marcy down the aisle and now she has rubbed our face in it again. I will be the laughing stock of Bossett once more, and it is all because of you,” Lady Mooreway spat at her son.

  “Please mamma, you cannot blame this on me, it was you who decided to try and upstage Marcy not me. I was happy to let things be,” Henry whined.

  Lady Mooreway stood up in a rage, “You dare to defy me? I will teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”

  Lady Mooreway turned to the servants and screamed at them all, “Get out, get out all of you, and I do not want to see any of your faces again tonight or tomorrow for that matter. If I do, it will be for the last time. Do I make myself clear?”

  The head butler bowed respectfully and said, “Very clear, Lady Mooreway.”

  After giving Henry a pitiful glance, the butler held the door open and all the servants filed out.

  Simms had been the head butler for Lady Mooreway for too many years now and he knew that Henry was about to be on the receiving end of her ladyship’s displeasure. Fury was etched on her face, no good was going to come of this, and he was in no doubt about that.

  Poor Henry, Simms thought as he closed the door on his employer. But he still went to hide in the kitchen with the rest of the servants and leave poor Henry to his fate.

  Simms reflected whilst he made his way down to the kitchen, of the years he had been the butler for Lady Mooreway, and he wondered why he had stopped in her employment for so long. Money, he thought, she paid him good money. He would never have got the amount of money he received from Lady Mooreway if he had changed employers. The only reason Lady Mooreway paid him what she did was because she could get nobody else to work for her.

  Lady Mooreway looked across at her snivelling son.

  “Useless, utterly useless that is what you are,” and advanced towards him.

  Henry cowed down in the chair he was sitting on, he knew what was about to happen, he had seen his mother in one of her rages too many times in the past not to know what was about to befall him.

  In his short lifetime, he had learnt it was best not to try to defend himself. It only made things worse.

  He held his hands over his head for protection. It was the third blow that did the trick. Henry felt all the hurt and anger that had built up in his head over the passing years, spill over and flow down his right arm. He clenched his fist to stop all the anger and resentment falling out of the ends of his fingers and soiling the carpet.

  His right fist shot out and upwards, catching his mother on the chin with such force he heard her neck snap. For one split second Henry saw all the hatred leave his mother’s eyes, they went blank as they looked at him. Her face had lost its fury and he saw his beautiful mother’s face devoid of any emotion before she fell to the floor like a stone.

  Henry did not stop at that, he knelt over his mother’s motionless body and pounded her face until it was unrecognisable.

  After he had vented his anger on her, he stood up and looked down at what he had done.

  “Mamma, mamma, get up mamma. Why are you lying down there with blood all over your face? Mamma, mamma, please get up mamma.”

  His mamma did not get up.

  Henry stood looking down at her.

  He had to get away, he knew he had to get away, far away, but first, he would put his mother to bed, make her nice and comfortable and keep her warm while he was away.

  Henry did not need the help of the servants. It was his mamma and he could put her to bed without their help. He went and opened the rooms’ double doors then running up the stairs he opened his mother’s bedroom door, went over to the bed and pulled the sheets back. Then he turned and retraced his steps.

  There were no servants anywhere to be seen, he knew that too, his mamma had sent them all way, told them not to be seen for a couple of days.

  Henry knew the servants would know better than to disobey his mother. He did not blame them. She could be very cruel could his mamma but that did not stop him loving her. He had always loved her n
o matter what she had done to him.

  Henry carried his mother up the wide staircase and into her bedroom where he placed her gently on the bed.

  While he was washing the blood from her face to make her look pretty again, his anger was turned to Marcy. His mamma had wanted him to marry Marcy, but he could not, he could not take her to bed and make love to her, she was not his mamma.

  If his mamma knew he had thoughts like this in his head, he would be the victim of her mirth, he would never hear the end of it but all he wanted was for his mamma to love him, to hold him and be gentle and kind to him. That is all he had ever wanted for as long as he could remember.

  Now she was no longer alive, she was never going to take him in her arms and tell him she loved him. But she was never going to use her tongue and fists against him either. The strange thing was he felt no regret. In fact, quiet the reverse. He felt elated, as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders and immense pleasure at what he had done. A sense of freedom enveloped him.

  But it was all Marcy’s fault. Marcy had made him do this to his mamma and Marcy would have to pay.

  He knew she was going up to Scotland in the morning, he had heard the tattlers in the club. They thought he was out of earshot, but he had heard them.

  People had never forgotten his being left standing at the altar, and they never would. It would follow him for the rest of his life, but he did not care, he preferred the gossip to the thought of being married to Marcy.

  The killing of his mother would also follow him for the rest of his life now. There was no escaping that, he did not need anyone to tell him, he knew. The tattlers will have their day again at his expense. No hiding place now. The tattlers had won, he had lost, but so had Marcy. He was not going to let her get away a second time.

  He had to get away. He knew he had to get away. His mamma did not need him anymore.

  He decided he was going to follow Marcy. Make her pay for taking his mamma away from him, making him the target of the tattler’s once again. Oh yes, she was going to have to pay alright.

  The last thing Henry did for his mother was pull the bed covers over her to keep her warm and safe. “Goodnight Mother, sleep tight and long. Goodbye.”

  Marcy’s ball on the other hand went like a dream, it far exceeded all her expectations and when all the guests had left, Marcy, Charlotte, Isaac and Freddie were sitting counting the money into the early hours of the morning.

  Marcy told them she would be able to pay off the mortgage and still have some money left for other things. She could not thank them all enough.

  “I have been thinking Marcy,” Lord Singleton said, “would you mind if Charlotte and I came up to Scotland with you in the morning, well this morning, for it is way past midnight now. We could have it as our honeymoon. I have never been to Scotland and I am told the scenery there is out of this world. What about you Freddie, do you fancy a trip to Scotland?”

  “I think that would be a good idea. Marcy will be travelling with all this money and she will need protection. We will act as guards and keep her and the money safe on the journey north. That is if Marcy has no objection.” Freddie looked across the table at Marcy.

  “I would very much appreciate your company. I came down on the mail stagecoach, but it was very crowded and one or two of the passengers needed a good bath. It was a very long and uncomfortable journey,” Marcy told them.

  “Good, we will go and get a few hours’ sleep and come and pick you up around 9 o’clock. If Freddie brings his coach, Marcy can travel with Freddie, for if we all were to travel in one coach, there will not be enough room for any of our luggage. Can you be at Marcy’s house just before 9 o’clock, Freddie?”

  “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.” Charlotte noticed Freddie was looking at Marcy when he said it.

  Lord Mooreway was observing Dyson Street from an alleyway at the other end of the street. He saw Freddie’s coach being loaded with Marcy’s boxes, and he was not best pleased.

  When he had decided to follow Marcy to Scotland, he had not bargained on the presence of Isaac Singleton and Freddie Atton. He had observed Freddie pulling up outside of Marcy’s and a few minutes later he saw Isaac’s coach pull up behind Freddie’s. Charlotte Palmer did not signify, he could easily deal with her, but he knew both gentlemen from The Foxes Club.

  Henry knew both Isaac and Freddie could handle themselves perfectly well. That was a certainty; both gentlemen were much better than he was at fencing, boxing and shooting. He had come up against them both on more than one occasion at the club and he was always the loser.

  Never mind, he would follow and bide his time, find out where Marcy lived in Scotland and there would come a time when he would be able to satisfy his need, his need to avenge his mamma’s death. The longer he waited the more satisfaction he would get.

  Henry noted that they were travelling in two separate coaches. With a bit of luck, they would get separated and he might have a better chance of revenge if the opportunity arose. On the other hand, two coaches would be easier to follow, he would be able to keep well back and not be afraid of losing them or of being seen.

  Henry had decided to travel on horseback, easier to hang well back until it was time to strike, he was travelling light, just a couple of carpet bags fastened to the back of his saddle.

  It was a pleasant journey north; the weather was clement and warm for the beginning of April and Freddie was pleased about that for he had decided to drive the coach himself and leave his coachman at home.

  Marcy, well wrapped up sat up top with Freddie and was enjoying the feeling of wind in her hair and the pleasant company she now found herself in. During the three days they had been travelling it had been agreed that, Isaac and Charlotte, would spend one night with Marcy, then carry on and do a tour of Scotland leaving Freddie at The Retreat.

  Marcy had talked Freddie into doing a few odd jobs around the place to keep him from getting bored, to say nothing of the money they would be able to save if Freddie did the odd repair for them.

  Actually, Marcy had mentioned to him as they travelled north, that her aunt had said they needed to get an odd job man to do one or two repairs, and Freddie had said he would have a look at what needed doing whilst he was there. He would see if he could help.

  Isaac and Charlotte would go back to The Retreat in two weeks’ time and accompany Freddie on the journey back home. It was a long way to be travelling alone for in some places it was very isolated. There was always the risk of highwaymen attacking the lone traveller; it was much safer if they travelled together.

  Freddie had not needed much persuasion. He was pleased Isaac and Charlotte were going off on their own for two weeks. He was more than willing to stay behind and give Marcy and her aunt a helping hand. If Freddie had to choose between being a gooseberry by tagging along with Isaac and Charlotte on their honeymoon or staying at The Retreat with Marcy, Marcy won hands down.

  Only one more day of travelling and their destination would be reached. They pulled up at the last wayside inn of their journey and were welcomed by the landlord who showed them to their rooms.

  “Dinner,” he told them, “would be served in a private parlour at 7 o’clock.”

  Around 6:30pm, Isaac went to answer their bedroom door when a pounding on it roused them from a light sleep and he was amazed to see Guy, his grandmother’s stable boy standing in the doorway twisting his cap nervously in his hands.

  Guy looked at Lord Singleton’s surprised face and words failed him.

  “Guy, it must be bad news for you to be here, come in lad,” Isaac held the door open for him.

  “Yes, my lord, very bad news I am sorry to say, it is your grandmother sir, she’s none too good,” Guy told him nervously.

  “None too good, what does that mean?” Isaac wanted to know.

  Guy hung his head. He could not bring himself to say the words.

  “Is she dead?” Isaac whispered.

  Guy keeping his head bowed nodded
.

  “When, when did she die?”

  “She passed away my lord, on the evening of the day after the ball.”

  “Oh, my God, she never should have taxed herself by going to the ball. I should have insisted on taking her home straightaway.”

  “Begging your pardon my lord, but I do not think you should. She was in fine spirits all the next day, we have not seen her ladyship so happy in many a long year. She just went early to bed the day after the ball and passed away quietly in her sleep, she died happy my lord, extremely happy.”

  “Go and see the landlord Guy. Book yourself a room here for tonight, it is too late in the day to be setting off back home. We will accompany you back first thing in the morning. I will have to go and see Freddie.” Isaac looked back at Charlotte.

  There were tears running down her face, Isaac knew she had a soft spot for his grandmother.

  He could not find the words that would comfort her, so he went in search of his best friend.

  Freddie agreed to continue with Marcy and he would stay in Scotland until Isaac and Charlotte came to accompany him back home.

  Next morning found the friends going their separate ways.

  Lord Mooreway had found a bed for the night in a hostelry at the opposite end of the village to where his prey was putting up for the night. He had risen early and found a hiding place from where he was observing the departure of Isaac and Charlotte, heading back the way they had come and in the opposite direction to that of Marcy and Freddie. He could feel his goal getting nearer.

  Henry had a smile on his face as he watched Lord Singleton’s coach heading in one direction, and Marcy and Freddie heading in the opposite direction.

  There was only Freddie left to be concerned about now. But the odds were beginning to stack in his favour.

  Marcy pointed out landmarks to Freddie as they neared their destination and when the daylight began to fade she pointed to a quaint little town they were approaching.

  "This is Marchum. We have only a mile to go now. Marchum is the last town before The Retreat. The Retreat is a large rambling old house on two floors. It stands at the edge of a wood and it had been unoccupied for about two years when my aunt took out a mortgage on it.