As they travelled up the M5 they were talking about the hidden passageway at The Manor. “I’m glad you’ve decided to keep it,” Bella said,”it makes The Manor seem more romantic.”
“Romantic!” Roman laughed, “that my family were involved in smuggling and the cheating of the Revenue.”
“It’s history. After all they were only smuggling things like brandy, silk and lace.”
“But the smugglers were still hard bitten men who thought nothing of killing if they were in danger of being caught.”
“I know,” Bella said, “but as far as the locals went they were badly done by heroes. I wish I could remember all that old poem, I think one of the lines went `Turn your faces to the wall when the gentlemen go by.` It made it all seem so romantic, poor fishermen fighting to feed their families while the wicked rich just got richer.”
“Mmm, local squires and vicars were even corrupted by it,” Roman agreed, “makes it not so bad that my ancestors were involved.”
“It will look good in the brochure for The Manor.”
Roman nodded as he pulled up in the car park, in front of a nice looking house set in a pleasant garden.
“Well, here we are,” Bella let out a breath and climbed out of the car.
“Looks very nice.”
They walked to the main entrance, where there was a bell push and and intercom. Roman rang the bell, a woman’s voice answered, he gave their names and the door buzzed open. As they walked inside a pleasant looking thirty something woman greeted them and asked them to `please come this way`. They followed her, waiting at each door while she unlocked it then relocked it once they were through.
“Security is high here then?” Roman asked.
“Yes, more for the patients safety than anything else. By the way let me introduce myself, I’m Ann Gale, the managers PA.”
“Finally they reached a door marked manager, Ann knocked and a voice called “Come in.”
On entering the office they were greeted by a sandy haired young man dressed in jeans, check shirt and sweater, not at all what they were expecting.
“Hello, I’m Alexander Mcwhirter,” he said with a soft Scottish burr, “most people call me Alex.”
“Isabella Carrington and I’m her fiance Roman Cowle.”
“Pleased to meet you, do sit down. Can Ann get you a coffee or tea?”
“Coffee would be nice,” Bella said.
Ann left to organise the coffees and Alex said, “I understand that your mother is here, Daisy Carrington.”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t met you before.”
“No, the last time I was here a Mr. Donaldson was manager. He told me not to come back when my mother became upset.”
Alex pursed his lips, “Ah! Mr. Donaldson left about seven years ago. I wondered why Daisy hadn’t had any visitors and that explains it.”
“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, I just thought he knew what was best for my mother.”
“Mr. Donaldson had some, er, old fashioned ideas, but things have changed since I’ve been here.”
“How is my mother?”
Ann Gale came in with the coffees and there was a pause in the conversation. Coffee cup in hand Alex answered “Surprisingly well. She mixes well with most people here and spends most days painting.”
“Oh. she just sat and rocked back and forward when I used to visit her.”
“Mmm, well, we seem to have got her medication regime just right.”
“So,” Roman asked, “is she well enough to leave here and live a normal life?”
Alex shook his head. “The simple answer is no. Her mind while calm most of the time, is still unstable and I fear that away from the routine and calm atmosphere that she lives in here she would deteriorate.”
“What is her problem?”
“The blow to her head and of course the drugs she took damaged part of her brain. She behaves like an eleven or twelve year old girl and is very easily manipulated by men.”
“So does that account for why she flitted from man to man?” Bella asked.
“Yes, in the outside world she would be fair game for anyone who wanted to use her. She’s still very attractive, I can see the similarity with you.”
“Can I see her?”
“Yes, but please be aware that she won’t know who you are.”
Bella heaved in a breath “Well I’d still like to see that she is ok. She’s going to be a grandmother.”
“She won’t understand that so please don’t try to tell her. It would only upset her.”
“I won’t.”
“By the way,” Roman said, “we understand that the clinic is paid monthly by a firm of solicitors. We’d like to know who they are.”
Alex frowned and Bella hurriedly said “Don’t worry we aren’t after the money, but I would like to know if there’s enough to keep her here until, well, you know, until she dies. If not we’ll have to make sure that we keep it topped up.”
He relaxed and said “That’s good to know, but the solicitors have assured me that there is more than enough money in the trust fund to keep her here forever.”
“That’s good but we’d still like to know who they are as it will put our minds at rest.” Roman insisted.
Lifting a heavy file off his desk and opening it, Alex said “It’s a firm here in Bristol, Ball and Toft on Whiteladies road.”
He wrote the name and address down and handed it to Roman, then he stood up. “Right I’ll take you to see your mother, I expect she’d in the art room painting.”
They walked through the nicely decorated house, smelling of flowers and polish, as Alex told them how his vision for a comfortable happy home for his patients had come to fruition.
“You’ve certainly changed it for the better,” Bella said, “it was quite dull and dark and smelled of boiled cabbage.”
“As so many of our institutions do, I’m afraid,” Alex said. “When my grandmother got dementia there was nowhere I wanted to leave her, so when I was offered the managers job here I jumped at the chance. Told the board I’d only take it on if I could run it as I saw fit and they gave me two years trial. Now they’ve taken over four more homes and they are run like this one and I am now a director.”
“Are you a psychiatrist?” Roman asked.
“No I’m a doctor, used to work for the NHS until I decided I could mange things better than them,” he laughed, “I was a big headed young man, but I’m learning, and we have some very good psychiatrists and therapists who work here. I just keep the place clean!”
It was Roman’s turn to laugh “Yeah I’m sure that’s all you do.”
Alex threw open a door into a well lit room, where men and women were busy at tables or easels doing various forms of art. Daisy was standing at an easel lit by the sunshine flooding in through the large windows, looking calm and happy. She was dressed in a long flowing hippy style dress, her hair bundled up with a silky scarf. Bella stood and watched her until she realised someone had entered the room and turned towards them.
“Alex,” she cried, “I’ve nearly finished Lu-lu’s portrait. What do you think?”
The three of them crossed the room and both Bella and Roman did a double take. “Oh my god.” Bella said.
It was a perfect portrait of Louisa.
Alex looked concerned “Is there a problem?”
Daisy turned to take a closer look at them and screamed “No, no, get her away, I don’t like that person.”
Alex rushed them out of the room as nurses rushed to calm Daisy. Shocked Bella allowed Alex and Roman to lead her back to the office before she said “Louisa must be here, that was her portrait.”
“Who?” Alex asked.
“Louisa Patterson.” Roman said.
�
�Ah yes, well she was here but her father came for her and took her home, about eight weeks ago.”
“Her father’s dead.”
“Then who took her away. He had identification and everything, and after he’d spoken to her she went with him quite happily.”
Bella looked at Roman, “Jakeman?”
“What was he like?” Roman asked.
“Short, plump, balding grey hair, very smart.” Alex told them.
“Not Jakeman then,” Roman said.
“What’s going on?” Alex asked, “perhaps I should phone the police if he wasn’t her father.”
Roman told him about all the things that had happened to Bella ending with Bert Jakeman trying to kill her.
“Then I definitely need to call the police.”
While they waited for the police to arrive Daisy’s doctor came to see them and told them that she became so upset at the sight of Bella, because she thought it was the `bad` Daisy come to take over her life again. Evidently she’d distanced herself from her life as a young woman and Bella looked just like her when she was young. The realisation that it wasn’t her Daisy hated, but herself, took a lot of the pain, that she’d been carrying for years, away from Bella.
They went through their story for the Bristol police then drove back to Dartmoor, both puzzling over the events surrounding Louisa.
“Who could it be?” Bella asked, “one of her trustees do you think?”
“Not one I’d recognise from that description.”
“I can’t believe the clinic would just let her go like that.”
“Remember she was in there voluntarily not commited.”
“Yes, I’d forgotten that.”
“It could be almost anyone. What I can’t understand is where is she staying. She’s not at home or the whole district would know.”
“Maybe she’s gone to London?”
“If so, then who’s been telling Jakeman what to do?”
Bella shook her head “It’s just such a mess.”
“Don’t worry love, we’ll sort it out.”
Chapter 24
“Look I’d prefer it if you came to The Manor with me,” Roman said the next morning. “Simon is coming over with the new plans so I need to be there, and as Charlie doesn’t work on a Saturday you’d be here alone. We’ll only be a couple of hours then we can come back, have lunch and go for a nice walk before the rugby starts.”
Bella grinned “Trust you not to forget the rugby.”
“Well it is the six nations and some of the Exeter Chiefs have been picked for the team. Crucial match against Wales.”
“You’ve talked me into it,” she laughed, “I’d quite like to see the old passageway you discovered.”
Roman sighed with relief, he’d thought she might balk at going with him and no way was he leaving her by herself.
The day went as planned, the new plans incorporating the old passageway into the design of the new hotel met with both their approval and to top a perfect day off England beat Wales and were well on their way to win overall. That night as Roman made gentle love to her she lay cuddled in his arms and dreamed of their life together.
* * *
On the Sunday morning Bella accompanied Roman once again to The Manor. When they arrived there were already quite a few men standing around chatting and partaking of the tea and bacon butties Mrs. B was handing out. Leaving Roman with the men she hastened to help Mrs. B and was quickly ferrying tea and butties to the gathering crowd, made up of estate workers and neighbours. Finally, with everyone fed, Roman explained what they were looking for, signs of habitation anywhere there shouldn’t be, and what they should do if they spotted anything unusual; which was to do nothing, except take note of the location, stay well away and inform Roman on the two way radios he handed out to each group.
“No heroics,” he insisted, “remember he’s got a shotgun and don’t do anything stupid. We don’t want anyone hurt, or one of you charged with murder, so any of you who’ve brought your guns leave them here. We don’t want the police to charge us as vigilantes. If you see anything unusual report it to me then leave it alone. Understood?”
There were some grumbles but guns were locked back into their gunboxes in the back of vehicles.
From the back of the crowd there was a shout and Inspector Greaves pushed his way through with half a dozen policemen following him. Approaching Roman he said “That was sound advice. One of my men will be with each group to ensure you follow it,” then turning to Roman he said, “while we’re grateful for your help in searching for Jakeman, it must be a police run search.”
“I understand. I’m glad that you’ve finally decided to take this seriously.”
“Can’t have citizens running around doing our job no matter how low in manpower I am. I’ve got a swat team coming down from Bristol, should be here soon. They’ll come along behind the line ready for if we need them. After the Bristol police got in touch with my boss about an heiress going missing things have started to escalate and it’s now a joint operation, but with me in overall charge. So if anything goes wrong it’s my career on the line.”
The swat team arrived in a swirl of gravel and the men were organised into groups, with detailed maps to follow, although, as the Devonians commented they needed no maps on their moor.
As the groups left Mrs. B gave a sigh of relief “Right let’s have our breakfast before I tackle the clearing up.”
She had croissants heating in the Aga and they sat at the kitchen table and enjoyed them, with farmhouse butter and homemade strawberry jam, talking about the changes to The Manor, the barn conversion, Mrs. B’s new home and the baby. When Bella told her she was sure it was a boy she nodded “In times of danger women often become more aware of the life within them. Their baby being in danger makes them stronger.”
Bella laughed “I might be totally wrong and it’s just a tough little girl.”
“Like her mother.”
Shaking her head Bella said “I wouldn’t ever say I was tough. I’ve been a coward over everything.”
“Ah, but you came through in the end, it’s not how you start out in life but how you finish.”
She mulled that over and shook her head again “I don’t know.”
They cleaned the kitchen, loaded the dishwasher and scoured out the frying pans that had been used for the bacon then Mrs. B said “I thought I’d make some pasties for when the men get back. Why don’t you go and sit down, have a rest?”
“No, I’d like to learn how to make pasties.”
* * *
Bella was chopping up peeled potatoes, swede, carrots and onions while Mrs. B made the pastry, with Hamish lying asleep in his basket in front of the Aga when he suddenly looked up and barked. The kitchen door banged open and there was Bert Jakeman and another man, with shotguns in their hands. Hamish leapt up barking furiously ready to lunge at them and Jakeman’s gun swung towards him. Without thinking Bella jumped in front of him grabbing his collar and shouting “No. Hamish!” while struggling to control him.
“What do you think you’re doing Bert Jakeman, don’t you point that there thing at me.” Mrs. B moved quickly so she was in front of Bella.
“Sit down Molly Bainbridge,” Jakeman ordered, “or you’ll get `urt. And you,” he pointed at Bella, “push that cur out o the kitchen unless you want him shot.”
Mrs. B sat down and Bella pushed Hamish out into the hall and shut the door; he flung himself against it barking ferociously as Bella turned to face the two men.
“What do you want?”
The man with Jakeman, who she recognised from Alex’s description as the man who’d taken Louisa, held out some thin rope. “Tie her to that chair, tight mind or it’ll be the worse for her.”
“No.”
The man raised his
gun “Then I’ll just have to take the easy option.”
“No, don’t I’ll do it.”
“Good, hurry up.”
Bella tied Mrs. B to the chair, trying not to hurt her but Jakeman came over and pulled the ropes tighter, after slapping Bella’s face for not doing as she was told. A dish cloth was pushed into her mouth with a large tea towel tied around it, she gasped for breath and Bella said “She’ll suffocate, don’t do that,” and got another slap for her interference.
“Right come on,” the small man said, “we haven’t time to hang about. Fasten her hands behind her back and gag her, let’s get out of here before anyone comes back.”
They bundled her into the back of an old transit van, not caring whether they hurt her or the baby, and took off fast. By the time they pulled to a stop Bella’s hips, elbows and legs hurt from trying to protect her stomach during the rough ride. When the doors of the van opened she saw, with surprise, that they were at Wishing Well cottage, parked close to the front door.
“Come on,” Jakeman snarled, “get out, I ain’t carrying yow.”
As she staggered to her feet he pulled her roughly towards the door “Where’s the key?” he asked as he pulled the gag out.
“Roman had it, he locked up.”
“Buggeration,” the small man swore, “we’ll never break through that door. Let’s try the back.”
They marched her round to the back, smashed the lean to door, then the kitchen door and dragged her into the cottage. Jakeman pushed her into a hard chair and the small man said “Right where is it?”
She frowned “Where’s what?”
“Now don’t go playing silly buggers with me. I know they’re here somewhere and you and lover boy are using them to pay for all the work you’re having done.”
“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The rest of the treasure, there was a damn sight more coins than the ones I sold for Maurice. I want them. If it hadn’t been for me he’d never have managed to sell them without the authorities finding out. With all the work you’ve been doing you must have found them.”
The Wishing Well Page 25
