Down to the Sea

by Sue Lawrence

  ‘Yes, let me get that money from Martha for the box, then I’ll come into the office.’

  Chapter 54

  1982

  ‘Who was that at the door, Martha?’ Jessie’s voice was hoarse as usual.

  ‘The nosy new neighbour. I had to give her a glass of water. She was sick all over the garden. Disgusting.’

  ‘The poor thing. It’s horrible being sick,’ Jessie croaked. Her voice kept giving way these days.

  Martha wheeled Jessie into the lounge in front of the television. ‘I don’t want to watch television. Can’t you read to me, Martha? Please?’ She leant towards Martha to whisper. ‘Effie had lots of books. Her sister Isabella was a great reader.’

  ‘I’ve never asked you what actually happened to the sister. And the brother? I read all about it but it just doesn’t sound feasible.’

  ‘What d’you mean, you read about it? It was eighty-three years ago.’

  ‘You can still read about stuff that happened in the olden days. It’s called research.’

  ‘What did you find out?’ Jessie mumbled.

  Martha sat down beside the bookshelf and started to rifle through the old books. ‘I found out that Andrew Ramsay, the governor of the poorhouse, murdered his sister Isabella in a drunken rage one night. Then he hanged himself. That was that.’

  Jessie nodded.

  ‘Unless you know anything different?’ Martha smirked. ‘Murder has always fascinated me.’

  Jessie swallowed. ‘Why should I know differently?’

  ‘You were living at Wardie House at that time. I remember you boring me with one of your many stories from the olden days about the smugglers’ tunnels and how you used to nip out to Newhaven, but the tunnel also connected the houses. You could’ve been at the house where the murder took place – then made a getaway?’

  Martha was enjoying the look of panic on Jessie’s face.

  ‘Where was Effie on the night of the murder, for example? What if she’d killed her sister in a jealous fit?’

  Jessie shook her head.

  ‘What if you helped Effie kill her? Or what if you killed her? You with your curse.’ Martha pointed a finger at Jessie’s mole. ‘What was it they called you? Winzie? Then Effie could get this house and the diamond and—’

  ‘No!’ Jessie croaked. She stared at her hands as she clenched them on her lap.

  ‘Oh, think I’ve touched a nerve here, haven’t I? Winzie. Cursed. Does that mean you’re damned to hell, since you helped commit a murder?’ Martha raised one eyebrow.

  Jessie pulled at the scarf round her neck.

  ‘It’d be difficult, but not impossible to reopen the case.’ Martha cleared her throat. ‘One of the witnesses, ladies and gentlemen, is still alive at ninety-seven. She denies all knowledge but in fact, what do you know, she helped the murderer. How did she help her? I know! She provided the killer with the murder weapon and then afterwards disposed of it. Oh, this story has legs.’

  Jessie was staring at the curtains, body rigid, hands clasped tight on her lap.

  ‘Ha, look at you. I’m just joking, you silly old bitch.’

  Jessie unclenched her hands.

  Martha continued, ‘But who knows what happens in the mind of a murderer? Well, I’ve met some in my time and believe me, they are never as straightforward as they seem.’

  The silence was thick between them. Martha continued rifling through the books on the shelf then picked one out. Its title was Daily Light. She opened it to the first page. ‘Look, here’s a nice inscription: “For my beloved Euphemia, with fondest love from your sister, Isabella, 25th December 1870.”’

  Martha thrust the page in front of Jessie, who drew her scarf up around her throat.

  ‘Isabella gives her sister a lovely book.’ Martha leant in close to Jessie. ‘And then, as thanks, the sister kills her.’

  Chapter 55

  1982

  A dark shadow slid along the corridor, keeping close to the wall. The figure climbed the stairs, patting the rail with each step then moved silently towards the top and turned right. She looked at the numbers on each door until she found the right one. A cat darted along the corridor, stopped beside the woman to arch its back in an exaggerated pose and then slunk off down the stairs. The woman turned the handle, but it was locked. She reached up for the key dangling on a hook, inserted it into the lock and pushed the door open.

  There was a gentle snoring coming from the bed and in the dark the figure came closer. A hand was raised. In it was a knife. Suddenly the boom of a foghorn sounded outside …

  ‘Rona, wake up, love, she’s crying, can you not hear her? Hannah needs a feed.’

  Rona sat bolt upright in bed. ‘Oh, thank God. I had a horrible dream, a nightmare.’ She shook her head. ‘Can you do me a big favour and go upstairs and check Martha and Jessie’s rooms, please?’

  Craig was out of bed and hovering over the cot. ‘I’ll bring her to you, love, stay put.’

  Rona unbuttoned her nightie and reached out for her daughter. She smiled when she saw the tiny bundle. ‘Please, darling, just humour me. It’s just, my dream was so horrible, I need you to check everything’s okay upstairs. It’ll take you five minutes.’

  Craig sighed and slipped his feet into his slippers. He pulled the dressing gown from the hook on the bathroom wall, plodded over to the bedroom door and slipped out. He walked across the hall, along the corridor then up the stairs, turning right at the top. He searched the numbers and stopped at Room 9. He didn’t feel comfortable entering Martha’s room, so he went next door to Jessie’s room first. He found the key hanging on its hook and put it in the lock. He pushed the door open and headed for the curtains, pulling one open a fraction; there was enough moonlight to see by.

  Craig saw the empty wheelchair and then, once his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a body in the bed. He moved closer and listened. He could hear a gentle snoring. He bent down over Jessie and laid a hand near her mouth. There was a warm puff of breath. He went over to the curtain, pulled it to, then padded out of the room.

  He went next door to Martha’s room and looked up to see an empty key hook. Craig tried the handle but it was locked. He frowned and headed along the corridor to the nurses’ station. Neil, an agency nurse, was on his first night shift at Wardie House. He was asleep in the armchair.

  ‘Very sorry to wake you up, Neil,’ said Craig, drily, tapping his shoulder. ‘D’you have the spare key for Room 9 please? I’ve got to check on something for my wife.’

  Neil sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked at his watch. It was two in the morning. ‘Sorry, Craig, I did my last check about half eleven, everything was fine. I had a quick chat with Mrs Sinclair in the corridor but then she went back to her room.’

  ‘What was she doing?’

  ‘She said she used to take Miss McCallister a cup of cocoa last thing at night so she’d been to her room to check if she was still awake and waiting for her drink.’

  ‘At eleven thirty?’

  Neil bit his lip. ‘You’re right. It’s a bit late, isn’t it?’

  ‘No problem, Neil. Can I have the spare key please?’

  Neil opened a drawer and stretched towards a little tray with keys. He looked at a couple of tags then handed the Room 9 key to Craig.

  ‘Thanks. Who’s on with you again?’

  ‘Another man, Ian, I think he’s called?’

  ‘Okay, I’ll go and get him from the carers’ lounge.’

  Craig went along the corridor to the carers’ lounge. It was empty but Craig could see a light along the corridor so headed for the bathroom. Ian was on his knees, fiddling with the bath hoist switch. ‘Just trying to sort this switch out. The day carers will need it first thing.’ He stood up. ‘Is there a problem, Craig?’

  ‘Can you come with me? I’m a bit suspicious that Martha’s up to something and would prefer if you came with me to her room. That okay?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Rona told me tonight what Jessie had
told you. That’s why I thought we should go together.’

  At the door to Room 9, Craig put the key in the lock and turned it. Craig and Ian went into the room and switched on the light. They looked at the bed, which was empty; a jewellery box sat upon the eiderdown, lid open. Craig looked inside. ‘Nothing in here. God knows where she’s gone. Will we nip over to the lodge house, see if she’s there?’

  They hurried downstairs. ‘Hold on, Ian. I’ll just pull my jeans on.’

  Two minutes later, Craig came back out of the annexe. He’d explained to Rona that Jessie was fine but they were off to check on Martha. Rona wasn’t happy but Craig tried to reassure her by saying he’d be back before she’d finished the feed.

  The two men strode round the corner and through the gate to the lodge house. It was pitch black but, on Craig’s suggestion, they went round the back to the kitchen. ‘The cleaners have left all the windows on the latch to release the chemical smells. This one’ll be easy to get in by.’ They pulled the window wide open. ‘You’re thinner than me, Ian. Can you get in and open the door?’

  Ian reached up and leant both elbows on the sill, then pulled his body up and in through the window. Soon the back door opened and the kitchen light went on. Craig joined him inside. They looked in every room and each was empty. Craig gestured for Ian to follow and together they went along the corridor to the bedroom at the back, the only one whose door was closed. Craig turned the handle, flicked on the switch and they both looked around. Nothing seemed disturbed in the room apart from the top drawer of the bedside table which was pulled out. They both went towards it and peered in.

  ‘There are some bank statements and things.’ Craig raked around in the drawer. ‘Think she’s taken Jessie’s bank details with her?’

  ‘Could be.’

  ‘No sign, then. Reckon she’s done a runner? Buggered off back to Canada?’

  ‘She was in her bed at midnight when I did the rounds,’ said Ian, ‘so she can’t have gone far. We’re going to have to wake Jessie and ask her what Martha was doing in her room tonight.’

  They walked back round to Wardie House and headed upstairs. They unlocked Jessie’s room and put on the bedside light. Jessie awoke and stared at both men.

  ‘It’s all right, Jessie. We’re really sorry to wake you up, but there’s something we need to tell you.’

  The old woman blinked and reached for the tumbler of water by her bed. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered, ‘I’m a little hoarse again. Is it Martha?’

  ‘Yes. She seems to have gone.’

  ‘Good. I’m glad.’

  ‘Jessie, remember those things you told me about the diamond? Is everything all right? You didn’t say where it was, but Martha’s gone. All we found on her bed was the jewellery box she bought today.’

  Jessie smiled. ‘Ah, the jewellery box. Good. She’s found it at last. She won’t get far.’

  ‘Was there a diamond hidden in there?’

  ‘Yes, but it was paste. It’s been there for years. I remembered about it when Rona told me she’d found the box. Effie abandoned lots of things down in the cellar. I now remember she kept the key in the big pram.’ She smiled. ‘Effie’s father gave her mother’s precious diamond to her sister Isabella. Effie had nothing but the paste diamond Andrew had given to his mistress to try to pay her off.’ Jessie took another sip of water. ‘That ended up in the jewellery box after it was used as Bertha’s passage to Canada. By the time the ship’s captain discovered it was paste, they were halfway across the Atlantic.’

  ‘So what you told me, Jessie, about the big diamond – there’s no such thing as the real one now? Only the paste one?’

  Jessie shook her head. ‘I wasn’t going to let that convict near Effie’s real one, Ian. For the past four years, I’ve been trying to keep it from her. And I succeeded. I knew she wouldn’t look in my sock drawer. Who would want to rifle through an old woman’s underwear?’ Jessie frowned. ‘She was evil. I believe she started that fire to try to kill me for refusing to tell her. You know she’s been in prison?’

  ‘God, no.’

  ‘She must have met Bertha’s son, the murderer, before she committed her own crime. I wonder now if they had an affair, even though he was so much older than her. Anyway, at some time, she heard about the diamond and set out to find it.’ She shook her head. ‘She was a really bad person, a Lady Macbeth.’

  Craig and Ian drew nearer; Jessie was now whispering. ‘She came into my room earlier tonight. I heard her unlock the door and come towards the bed. If that new nurse hadn’t disturbed her, I think she would have killed me. She hid something quickly behind her back when he came in. I think she’d been down to the kitchen for a knife. She mumbled something about checking up on me to see if I needed cocoa. I’m positive I saw a sheen of metal at her back, like a blade.’

  Jessie gestured to Craig to come closer.

  ‘Craig, go downstairs and look in your daughter’s pram.’ Jessie began to slip down the pillows onto her back. ‘And now, if you don’t mind, I want to get back to sleep. I was having wonderful dreams about sleeping with ghosts. Nice ghosts.’

  She turned over and Ian switched off the light as he and Craig went out into the dark corridor.

  ‘Craig, I know it’s the middle of the night, but since there’s nothing more we can do just now could you come with me to the bathroom for a minute to check on the bath hoist? I’ve nearly fixed the switch but another pair of hands would help.’

  ‘No problem.’

  Chapter 56

  1982

  Rona opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. She’d just heard a click. What could it be? She didn’t want to put on her bedside light. She’d put Hannah back into her cot just a short while ago and didn’t want to wake her up. Rona must have gone to sleep immediately after feeding; she was so sleep deprived, she fell asleep very easily now. She sat up in bed and let her eyes adjust to the dark. Rona listened. Usually she could hear a gentle snuffling or the soft whistling noise of the baby’s regular breathing. There was no sound at all. She flung back the covers and strode over to the cot. She peered inside then put in a hand, tentatively. The sheet was cold; the cot was empty.

  Rona ran to put on the light switch. Was she going mad? She had put the baby in here, what, fifteen minutes ago? Hannah had fallen asleep mid feed so Rona had wrapped her up, all snug and warm, in the soft white cot blanket. Rona’s whole body tensed as she stared again into the empty cot.

  Her mum must have taken her. Rona ran through to the tiny guest room and flicked on the light. ‘Mum, Hannah’s gone. Where is she?’

  Morna screwed up her eyes. ‘What? What time is it?’

  ‘The cot’s empty, where could she be?’ Rona grabbed her mother’s dressing gown from the hook on the door. ‘Craig went off to Martha’s house. I’ve got to go and find him.’

  ‘He must’ve come back and taken her off. Maybe Hannah was girny and Craig took her for a walk.’

  ‘I’d have heard her.’ Rona felt sick.

  ‘Maybe not, a ghràidh.’ Morna jumped out of bed and helped her daughter tie up the dressing gown. ‘Is the pram still there?’

  They both rushed into the living room and looked towards the door where the pram usually sat. There was nothing there.

  Rona gasped. ‘That was what I heard – it was the click of the pram brake.’ She ran towards the door.

  ‘Rona, wait, I’ll come with you.’

  Rona turned back to Morna, panic in her eyes. ‘No, you wait here, Mum, in case Craig gets back.’ Rona ran out in her bare feet into the hall and stopped as she saw movement along the corridor. It was the lift door shutting. Perhaps it was Craig taking the pram upstairs – but why would he do that? She couldn’t wait for the lift to come back down so she sprinted towards the kitchen door and the back staircase, running up the steps two at a time. She was breathless at the top; she paused to stoop over the banister. Her heart was palpitating so hard her chest was about to burst.

  Jessie hadn�
�t yet fallen asleep so she opened her eyes and listened. It was pitch black but she was sure there was a noise, a sound that was familiar and yet it was one she had not heard for years. Was it wheels? She must be dreaming. It was just like the sound of Effie pushing the pram, which was many years ago.

  The main bedroom light snapped on. Jessie squinted. There, on her bedside rug, stood a pram, the shiny black handles towards her bed. Jessie pushed herself up onto her elbows and turned her gaze towards the door where a figure dressed in black was twisting the key. As Jessie’s eyes widened, she saw the figure turn around and tilt her head to one side.

  ‘Good morning, Jessie Mack. We have business to discuss.’ Martha was smirking as she walked towards the pram.

  There were light, snuffling sounds as if the baby was sleeping peacefully. Thank God for that. ‘Martha,’ Jessie croaked. ‘What are you doing with the baby? Rona will be sick with worry when she realises she’s gone.’

  ‘Yeah, well, she’ll get her baby back when I’ve been given what I came for.’

  ‘What’s that, Martha? I thought you’d taken the diamond – the one in the box?’

  Martha sauntered towards the bed and sat down on the end, on top of Jessie’s feet. Jessie tried to pull them away, but could not, Martha’s weight was holding them firm. Martha reached into her pocket and thrust something at Jessie’s face. She caught sight of a silver hallmark glinting in the light. It was a small magnifying glass, the one that had gone missing from Effie’s things. Jessie looked at the pram, then back at Martha, who was now tossing the magnifying glass between her hands.

  ‘Jessie, Jessie, you’ve been lying to me all those years, haven’t you? First of all, you knew the diamond in the box was a fake. I’ve done enough research into diamonds since I’ve been here to know what to look for in a paste diamond.’ She reached into her pocket, took out something, then released her fist and lifted her palm up to the light. She raised the magnifying glass and looked at the stone closely. ‘Only close up can you tell it’s not real. You can see the coating coming away underneath. This is lead glass, nothing like a diamond. It’s worthless.’ She shoved it back in her pocket with the glass. ‘Which takes me on to my next point.’