As Bella’s hand touched his he pulled her to his side and stood stiff, yet trembling, as he watched the man descend the steps; and on his approach he saw the reason for his featureless face, he had a stocking pulled over his head. It also muffled his voice as he said, ‘Interfering young fool! You’ve got yourself into a mess now, haven’t you?’
‘Not as much a mess as you’ll be in when they catch you.’
‘Now, none of your old lip. You’re in trouble as it is so don’t worsen it by gettin’ me back up.’
‘You can’t keep us here.’
‘Can’t we? Well, that remains to be seen.’
‘They’ll be searching for us.’
‘Aye, likely they will, lad, but who’d expect to find you in Mr Aimsford’s house, at least under it, well under it. I don’t suppose there’s half a dozen people know of this particular cellar ’cos there’s no way out except through that door up there. But that only leads into a gap, and beyond that is a wall and that wall’s all of two feet thick. Any road, I’m leaving you these candles.’ He now put his hand in the pocket of his reefer coat and brought out three candles, adding, ‘Be sparin’ with ’em ’cos these are all you’ll get.’
The man turned sideways and was placing the candles on one of the many boxes when he was startled into a rain of curses as Bella’s hands found his arm and, hanging on to it, she kicked at his shins, shouting, ‘Get him, John! Get him, John!’
The next moment it was she who yelled as she was lifted up by the hair and flung aside. Then the man was backing towards the stairs, glaring at John as he yelled, ‘Don’t you try anything, youngster. This is what I get for bein’ decent; if I’d done what they said I’d have left you in the dark. As for that little vixen, for two pins I’d…’ He didn’t finish the sentence but turned abruptly and ran up the stairs.
As the light disappeared and the door banged, John groped his way towards the box where the man had left the candles and matches and, having lit a candle, he held it above his head and looked about him. Then looking at Bella, he said, ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes.’ And now she added in a small voice that was almost a whimper, ‘I’m…I’m sorry, John. I’m sorry I’ve got you into this trouble.’
‘No need to be sorry; you were right. It’s that grandfather of yours who should be sorry.’
‘Then…then you saw the man?’
‘Yes. Yes. I caught a glimpse of him. I think they were just about to move him; he was at the end of the coach house trussed up like a chicken.’
‘They’re bad men.’
‘You’re telling me.’
‘Where are we? What is it like?’
After a moment John said, ‘It’s a cellar of some sort and it must be pretty deep because there are quite a number of steps up to that door. And—’ He paused and, walking from her to the far wall, he said, ‘This seems to be the only flat bit that we’re on now; the floor seems to slope upwards but for most of the way it’s piled up to the roof with boxes, all kinds of boxes, like packing cases.’ He now turned one of the boxes over and added, ‘This one’s got straw inside. Looks as if they’ve been used for packing glass or china.’
‘John.’
‘Yes, what is it?’
‘Why don’t we go up the stairs and listen at that door?’
‘What good will that do? You heard him, he said there was a wall behind, beyond.’
‘Well, I might be able to hear something.’
‘You?’
‘Yes; I told you I can hear things that other people can’t. It’s because…well, I’m…I’m kind of listenin’ all the time.’ She held out her hand and whispered, ‘Take me up.’
Without further ado, he took hold of her hand and led her to the foot of the stone stairs, saying, ‘Hold tight, they’re steep and there’s no railing on that side, and if you fall over you could break your neck.’
‘Twenty-three.’
‘What?’
‘There’s twenty-three steps.’ She was whispering now. Then when her hand moved over the door in front of her she said, ‘Where’s the keyhole?’
When he directed her to the keyhole she put her ear to it while he held the candle above her head and looked down on her.
The silence was heavy about them. He could hear nothing, yet after a few seconds, when her grip on his hand tightened, he knew that she could hear something, and so he bent his head down to hers and put his ear to the wood. But still no sound came to him except that of her quick breathing.
She must have kept her position at the keyhole for all of three to four minutes before she straightened up; then she whispered, ‘They’ve gone.’
‘Who?’
‘Them and the gentleman.’ She was tugging at his hand now, indicating that they should go down the steps, and when they reached the floor of the cellar again he demanded sharply, ‘Well, out with it! What did you hear?’
For a moment she didn’t reply; then her words came slow as if she herself couldn’t believe what she was saying, ‘It was the gentleman talking.’
‘The gentleman?’
‘Yes, the one who owns the house.’
‘Don’t be silly…Yet wait! How could all this go on without him knowing? But how did you know it was him?’
‘By his voice, of course. He’s got a different voice, a gentleman’s voice.’
‘Lots of men speak like him.’
‘No, not like him; his voice is different. I know voices. I tell people by their voices and he was talking to the man who had just been down here and another man, and he hadn’t closed the door—the other door, or whatever it is.’
‘Could you hear what they were saying?’
‘Not much, except when the gentleman shouted.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He swore, and then he said they were idiots. Then he said something like, if they couldn’t get him across the night it would mean them hanging on for another day, and the fish man said…’
‘The fish man! What are you talking about?’
‘The man who was down here. He…he smelt of fish. Couldn’t you smell it?’
‘No.’
‘Well, anyway, it was him who said it was impossible to get him across the night ’cos the boat wasn’t due until tomorrow. Then the gentleman swore again and said, how could they get him away tomorrow for by then the roads would be swamped with people looking for…them two…he was meaning us…Oh, they will look for us, won’t they, John?’
The effect on him of the tremor in her voice was now making it difficult for him to keep his own voice steady as he replied, ‘Yes, of course they will. Your…your grandfather will be scouring the roads already.’
‘And…and your da too.’
‘Yes, yes; Dad’ll be worried.’ He didn’t voice the thought and add, ‘If he comes back sober.’
‘Fish.’
‘What! What did you say?’
‘Fish, the man smelt of fish.’
‘Well, what can you make of that?’
‘He…he must be a fisherman.’
‘A fisherman!’ He paused a moment; then gripping her arm, he shook it saying excitedly, ‘Yes, yes, you’re right, he is a fisherman, and I know who he is. Somehow I thought I recognised him, the size of him, and then something about his voice although it was muffled. He’s Dick Riley from the village. He does odd jobs about the countryside, but mostly he helps Mr Benbow, Andrew Benbow. He’s got a boat. He was brought up for lobster poaching last year. You know something.’ He was bending over her now. ‘I bet you what you like they intend to take that man somewhere by sea.’ He straightened up, bit on his lip, then finished, ‘I wonder who he is. He must be someone important and they’re holding him for ransom.’
‘Then they won’t kill him?’
He now made himself say, ‘No, no, they won’t kill him,’ all the while thinking, You never know what they’ll do to him, and to us, if they get desperate enough.
As if Bella had picked up his thoughts she
said softly, ‘Do you think they’ll kill us, John?’
‘No, don’t be silly.’
‘I’m cold.’
‘Here, take my coat.’
‘No, no.’ She put out her hands to prevent him taking off his coat, saying, ‘You’ll be cold then…but…but didn’t you say there was straw and shavings in those boxes?’
‘Yes. Yes, that’s an idea. But look out where you’re going! Don’t knock the candle out of my hand. I’d better stick it down and then when we’re settled I’ll put it out ’cos he’s only left the three and I don’t know how long they’ll have to last.’
After dripping some grease onto the floor near the wall he stuck the candle on it; then said, ‘Now you stay where you are because these boxes are all piled up higgledy-piggledy and they’ll come tumbling down about our ears if we’re not careful. I’ll hand you the straw and you can lay it out on the floor, like a bed you know.’
‘Yes, yes.’
It took him quite some time to get enough straw out of the boxes to make a rough pallet bed, and when it was finished they sat down side by side.
Neither of them spoke for some minutes, and when in a small voice she said, ‘Will you hold my hand, John?’ he took it between his own and rubbed the cold fingers for a moment as he said with more confidence than he felt, ‘Don’t be afraid; it’s all right. They can’t keep us here for long, they wouldn’t dare.’
Again they were quiet, until she murmured something so softly that he was unable to hear, and so, bending towards her, he said, ‘What did you say?’
‘I…I want to go to the lavatory…’
He swallowed, clicked his tongue, blinked, then said abruptly, ‘Come on.’
He led her now towards the wall, saying, ‘There’s a passage up here where I’ve cleared the boxes. Keep against the wall or you’ll have them on top of you.’ He just stopped himself from pushing her forward, and when she said, ‘You needn’t wait,’ he turned abruptly away and returned to where the candle was set. He took it from the floor and went back to their makeshift bed, and having sat down, he snuffed it out.
‘John!’ Bella’s voice came from the corner of the room; ‘talk to me and I’ll know where you are.’
‘Over here, this way.’
As she flopped down beside him, she said, ‘What’s that burning smell?’
‘I put the candle out.’
‘Are you hungry?’
‘More thirsty than hungry.’
‘Do you think they’ll give us anything to eat?’
‘That remains to be seen.’
They sat in silence for quite a while until John, in an unusually gentle tone, said, ‘Bella.’
‘Yes, John?’
‘I…I never realised before what it…well, don’t mind me saying this, but what it meant to be in black darkness.’
When she groped for his hand he held hers tightly, and when she said, ‘Don’t be frightened, you get used to it,’ he didn’t put on a brave act and say, ‘Frightened! I’m not frightened.’ What he did say was, ‘I…I don’t think I’d ever get used to it, Bella. I…I don’t know how you can keep so bright and cheerful.’
‘Oh, that’s nothing. As Mrs Golightly used to say, it’s me nature. If I’d been born without hands and feet she said, I’d have been the same. She said I throw light on diversity, or something like that.’
‘Oh, Mrs Golightly. She must have been a kind of sage, your Mrs Golightly.’
‘Sage? Sage is what you put in stuffin’.’
He gave a shaky laugh as he replied, ‘In this case it means wise. She always seemed to be coming out with wisecracks.’
‘She said most of them when she was tight.’
Bella now knew that he had turned his face fully towards her and she could picture the expression on it as he said, ‘You mean to say there really is a Mrs Golightly?’
‘I’ve told you!’
‘Then why is it nobody knows about her? Miss Braithwaite said she’s never known anyone of that name.’
‘Miss Braithwaite knows nothin’. Miss Talbot used to come and talk to her and about me. She used to give Miss Talbot a cup of tea…You still don’t believe me?’
‘Yes, yes, Bella, I do now. Yes, I do, and you know something, my father believes you, he said he did, but I thought it was just the drink talking.’
‘There you see…people think I ’magine things all because of Gip, but he’s the only ’maginary one I made up, ’cos I always wanted a dog; or a cat would have done but me da wasn’t for it. Animals need looking after he said. But when Gip came I didn’t mind any more…well, not all that much.’
When he slowly slid his arm about her shoulders and pulled her close to him, she made a little murmuring sound but didn’t speak.
And like this they stayed for quite some time, speaking only now and again. That was, until the creaking sound of the key being turned came to them once more and they swung round on the straw and peered in the direction of the stairs. Then they became rigid as a voice said in a low growling tone, ‘Aw, come on. It’s got to be done; let’s get it over with. And don’t worry, I’ll take the girl. Why you should be feared of a blind kid puzzles me…’
There was the sound of a foot grating on the stone steps; then another voice, full of agitation now, exclaiming, ‘Hold your hand a minute, Charlie. Look, there’s the boss coming onto the drive an’ a crowd with him. Come away back in, man, and shut the flamin’ door.’
There now came to them the sound of the door being banged closed, and the echo of it had hardly died away before Bella cried, ‘They’re coming! They’re coming lookin’ for us! It’ll be me granda; he’s believed about the man being tied up…Come on! Come on! Let’s go up to the door and hang on it and yell.’
Before she had finished speaking she grabbed his hand and began to grope her way to where she imagined the stairs were, and having come to the side of them she quickly led him round to the foot. Then they were scrambling upwards, and when they reached the door they thumped on it and yelled their loudest.
They yelled and yelled until their throats were sore, and when almost simultaneously they stopped, they leant against the door and, their hands groping towards each other now, they again almost simultaneously said, ‘They can’t hear us.’
After a while they moved cautiously into the blackness and down the steps again, then groped their way to the bed of straw. Sitting down, neither of them said a word for almost five minutes. Then Bella, in a small voice, whispered, ‘The place must be so secret that no-one knows it’s here.’
‘Secret! Of course! Of course! Yes.’ John had suddenly risen to his feet. ‘Why didn’t I think about it before? This is the place old John Kepple used to talk about, he’s dead now; they said he was silly, daft. He was a bit but not all that daft. He said there was a secret cellar but he had forgotten how to get into it, that’s if he had ever known; it was his father who had worked here when the manor was really a manor. Anyway, it was old John who set me looking for it in the holidays. I used to go round tapping the upstairs walls and the staircase mostly. But I did try downstairs too, but as I’ve told you there were no cellars.’
‘Well, isn’t this a cellar?’
‘Yes, but it’s different. Old Kepple said the house was built in the times of the Troubles—the religious troubles, and that the secret place wasn’t only used for priests and later highwaymen and smugglers, but errant wives and it was a—’ He stopped himself from adding, ‘Place of no return’ and ended, ‘a place that should be forgotten.’
After making this statement he realised its inference and became silent, and Bella didn’t break the silence.
Chapter Six
Joseph Dodd had been held up. It was fifteen minutes past five o’clock when he returned home; and he saw to the horse before going into the house. After glancing round the living room and the scullery, he went to the foot of the stairs and called sharply, ‘You, Bella!’
When there was no reply he pressed his lips together
, jerked his chin first to one side then the other, before going up the stairs, his hobnailed boots hitting each stair as if he meant to kick it through.
As he thrust open the small bedroom door he began, ‘When I call…’ then he stopped, staring towards the bed for a moment; and turned to go banging down the stairs again, saying as he reached the bottom, ‘Drat the child! I told her to be back by three, didn’t I?’ He addressed the remark to his high-backed wooden chair and glared at it as if daring it to contradict him.
Back in the yard, without apparent hesitation he walked towards the wood, and marched through it until he came to the broken wall. There was no sign of her at either side of it.
His face was livid with temper when once more he stood inside the living room. Wait until she put in an appearance, he’d make her aware once and for all that when he gave an order he meant that order to be carried out! She had been asking for a scudded backside since the first day she came, and by God, she’d get it today!
He now thrust the black kettle into the heart of the fire, brought the teapot from the hob, then went into the scullery and snatched up a tin mug from the draining board.
It wasn’t until after he had brewed his tea and sat sipping the sweet scalding liquid that his temper subsided just a trifle and, turning his head, he gazed about the room. And in this moment it was as if he had never seen it before, for although it was packed with furniture it now appeared to him empty, cold.
Where was she anyway? He got abruptly to his feet. Look at the time! Ten to six by the mantel clock.
He started when there came a knock on the door, and when he saw Harry Thompson standing there, his jaw stiffened.
Go Tell it to Mrs Golightly Page 10
