by Rosie Clarke
‘No, not very.’ I couldn’t lie to him. ‘I have been very unhappy since my marriage – but it is a little better at the moment. Richard was jealous about the child. My marriage was a mistake.’
‘Then why …?’
I stood up and walked over to the window, looking down at the yard and Mother’s tiny garden at the bottom. I wasn’t sure how to answer him. Why didn’t I leave Richard? Because of my father’s will. And because I had been trying to save my marriage – but in my heart I knew it would never work out for us. This was just the lull before the storm.
Richard had tried to make love to me twice since the night I had invited him to do so, but both times he had turned away – even though I had tried to welcome his advances. And he was drinking again. Not as much as before, not enough to make him violent, but enough to make him fall asleep every night without touching me.
I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. I turned and gazed up into Jon’s eyes, making no attempt to resist as he took me into his arms. His kiss was so sweet, so tender, that tears sprang to my eyes.
‘I love you, Emma,’ Jon said huskily. ‘I think I’ve loved you almost from the first moment we spoke.’
‘You couldn’t have,’ I choked, tears blinding my eyes. ‘You knew about … you had seen me with Paul.’
‘That didn’t stop me thinking you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. Then when I found you crying, I just wanted to look after you.’ There was sadness in his eyes, and love. ‘I was afraid to speak out that first afternoon. You were in trouble and upset – how could I tell you how I felt? It was too soon. I meant to talk to you the next time we met, to ask you if you would consider marrying me – just to make things easier on yourself. If my uncle hadn’t died I would have but I couldn’t come to you as I’d promised. And then it was too late. I’ve wished a thousand times I had told you how I felt at the beginning, but I’ve never been much with words.’
‘You’re doing very well at the moment,’ I said, blinking back tears. A watery laugh escaped me. ‘Oh, Jon … If only you had … if only you had.’
‘Come with me, Emma,’ he urged, and the longing was in his eyes. ‘I’ll take care of you and James. We’ll find a way for you to divorce your husband.’
‘He would never let me go. You don’t know him, Jon. You don’t know how violent he can be. Or what’s at stake for him.’
‘Go with him, Emma. It’s your best chance of happiness.’
I turned to stare at my mother as she carried in the tea tray and set it down on the table.
‘What about you?’
‘It doesn’t matter about me. I’ll find somewhere to live. This is your chance to escape, Emma.’
‘I could help with a house for Mrs Robinson,’ Jon said, looking at me intently. ‘I meant to tell you, Emma. My uncle left me a collection of valuable books – that’s how I was able to send the money. If you’re worried about your mother—’
‘Oh, Jon.’ I stared at him helplessly. It was so tempting to say yes and let him take me away – but we hardly knew one another. I had already made so many mistakes. I was almost sure we could be happy together, but I was afraid to commit myself. ‘I’m not sure. I need to think about this.’
‘Go with him, Emma,’ my mother urged, ‘while you have the chance.’
‘You don’t have to make up your mind this minute,’ Jon said gently. ‘If you decide to come, just telephone my office.’
‘Jon—’ I was on the verge of saying I would go with him when we all heard feet pounding up the stairs and then Ben burst into the room.
‘Emma,’ he gasped, face white with shock. ‘You’ve got to come. There’s someone in the shop … he says your gran’s hurt bad. You’ve got to come straight away.’
‘Gran hurt?’ My gaze flew to Jon in immediate appeal. ‘Where is she?’
Ben was clearly in a state of shock and distress. ‘At her cottage. The doctor has been sent for – but they say she’s bad. She’s had an accident, Emma.’
‘I’ll take you to her,’ Jon offered at once. ‘Forget everything else for the moment. There will be plenty of time for us. Your gran has to come first.’
‘I’ll stay here with the baby,’ Mother said at once. ‘It’s you your gran will want to see, Emma.’
‘Oh, Mum,’ I rushed to hug her as the tears threatened. ‘I’ll tell her you love her. I’m sorry. I have to go …’
Chapter Thirteen
I was tense and anxious as Jon drove me to Gran’s cottage, hardly speaking the whole of the journey. When we arrived I saw there was a little crowd of people outside. They looked at me oddly as I jumped out of the car and ran inside. Doctor Barton was waiting for me. He stopped me as I would have gone into the bedroom.
‘She’s very poorly,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I doubt she’ll last the night – but she is conscious and she wants to see you.’
I swallowed hard, holding back the tears. ‘What happened? Was it an accident?’
‘I don’t think so. She has a severe wound to the back of her head. I think she was struck from behind. She was found by one of her friends, a lady who often calls to see how she is.’
‘She has many friends,’ I said. ‘Where was she?’
‘In the kitchen, lying on the floor – and this was near her.’
He indicated a biscuit tin. At the moment it contained only a broken string of coral beads and some papers.
‘Someone must have robbed her. She told me her bits and pieces were in a tin under her bed.’
‘When was this?’
‘Just after my father died. She said there wasn’t much – but it was meant for me.’
He nodded gravely. ‘You didn’t tell anyone – anyone at all?’
‘No. Why?’
‘It may not mean anything, Emma – but when she first regained her senses she mentioned a name. It was your husband’s name.’
‘No!’ I grabbed at the back of a kitchen chair as the room seemed to spin around me. Richard couldn’t have done this terrible thing! It was too horrible to contemplate. ‘He wouldn’t, would he? I know he drinks but this is murder.’
‘Perhaps it means nothing,’ Doctor Barton said. ‘But I thought it best to tell you. You can go in now.’
I was reeling from the double shock as I went into the bedroom. Gran was lying flat with her eyes closed, but she opened them as I approached, her lips forming a smile of welcome.’
‘Emma, lass … there isn’t much time.’ Her hand moved restlessly on the bedcovers. I took it in mine. It felt cold and she was trembling. ‘It’s my fault. I put the fear into him, but it was for your sake. Forgive me, lass. I never thought he would do something like this …’
‘Oh, Gran.’ Sickness rose in my throat as I realized what she was saying. It had been Richard who had attacked her! ‘Don’t talk. Don’t tire yourself.’
‘I haven’t told anyone else,’ she said. ‘They don’t know it was Richard. It’s your choice, Emma. If you want to be free … or it could be a hold over him.’
‘Please don’t talk, dearest. Don’t worry about me.’ The tears were so close. I loved her and she was dying – because she had tried to protect me. ‘I knew it was wrong. He’s so violent …’
‘He accused me of stealing his manhood.’ A faint chuckle escaped her. ‘At least he hasn’t been bothering you, lass.’
I remembered the way Richard had turned away from me in bed. Something had prevented him from being a proper husband – was it only in his mind, or had there been another reason?
The game Gran and my mother had been playing was a dangerous one. It had driven Richard into a corner, and like a wild beast, he was most unpredictable when wounded.
Gran had closed her eyes. I felt an overwhelming grief. She had clung on to life for my sake. Now there was nothing more to hold her. I could see the colour fading from her cheeks. She was slipping away from me – and I couldn’t bear it.
‘Gran,’ I sobbed. ‘Don’t go. Don’t leave me. I love you
so much.’
She opened her eyes once more, smiling as if in blessing. But then there was a horrid rattle as her last breath was spent and I knew she had left me.
‘Oh, Gran …’ I wept openly now. It hurt so much. The pain swept over me. It was all Richard’s fault! He had lied to me, beaten me – and now he had killed Gran. I felt a surge of anger and of hatred. ‘Gran. I love you so. I love you so …’
‘So she’s gone, then?’
I glanced over my shoulder as the doctor came in. I sobbed out my grief, tears streaming down my cheeks.
He laid a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. ‘Mr Reece asked me to tell you he would be in touch soon. He left because he thought you might prefer to be alone.’
Did I want that? I wasn’t sure. Jon had done what he felt right, but at that moment I needed a shoulder to cry on.
‘Gran told me – it was Richard who attacked her. He killed her and stole her things.’
‘Are you prepared to make a statement about this?’
‘Yes, I am. My husband is a violent man. He has abused me ever since our honeymoon. Because of what he did to me, Gran tried to threaten him, to make him leave me alone – and this was his revenge.’
Doctor Barton looked serious. ‘You understand what this will mean? He will be arrested and tried for murder – it will be in the papers. If he is found guilty, he could hang.’
‘If he is guilty—’ I choked back a sob. ‘He will deserve to be punished, won’t he?’
‘In my opinion he should hang,’ Doctor Barton said. ‘But I wanted to be sure you were prepared for the consequences, Mrs Gillows. It will be your testimony, and my own, which will convict him. There are no witnesses. You will have to stand up in court and give evidence.’
I stared at him, a sense of horror sweeping over me. Gran had given me the choice, because once again she had wanted to protect me from what would be an unpleasant experience. In a small town like ours there would be bound to be gossip and pointing fingers. But I could not allow Richard’s crime to go unpunished.
‘Yes, I am prepared,’ I said, my head going up. ‘My husband is not a good man, sir. It is just possible that he might have killed before: a girl he mistook for someone else.’
‘What do you mean?’
I explained, telling him what Sheila had told me that day in the shop – that he might have mistaken another girl for her.
Doctor Barton nodded, looking grave. ‘I see. I shall report this to the police. Do you think she would repeat her story to them?’
‘I don’t know. She might not want to now that she’s married.’
‘Well, we’ll have to see what happens. In the meantime, you may be in danger. Your mother and son also. Richard will be frightened and angry. He may try to harm you – especially if he thinks you might give testimony against him.’
‘Perhaps.’ I looked at Gran. She was so white, so still – yet she looked peaceful, younger somehow. ‘I don’t want to leave her like this.’
‘There are others who will look after her, Emma. Friends who cared for her. Mother Jacobs was loved by many. There will be many to mourn her – and to call for justice when this gets out.’
‘Yes, I know. She was always getting little presents from folk who cared for her. A lot of the young lads who work on the railway called regularly. If some of them find Richard before the police—’ I shuddered. ‘I think they would make him sorry he ever lived.’
‘Go home, my dear.’ Doctor Barton touched my arm. ‘Leave your grandmother to me. And be careful.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I shall. Thank you, sir. You are very kind.’
‘Richard killed her?’ Mother stared at me in horror. ‘I can’t believe it, Emma. No! Oh no … It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have done it … but I thought it would help.’
She looked pale and distressed, suddenly sitting down on the settee with a bump. She was in such a state that I knew my suspicions had been right. My mother and grandmother had been plotting something together.
‘Did you put something in his food?’
‘It was harmless,’ she said, giving me a guilty glance. ‘It wouldn’t have killed him, Emma. I just wanted to punish him a little for what he’d done to you. Gran gave me a herbal mixture. She said to give him a small dose occasionally. It was supposed to make him less inclined towards – well, you know.’
‘So you planned it together.’ I looked into her eyes. ‘Did you do the same to Father? Put something in his dinner to make him suffer?’
She nodded, biting her bottom lip. ‘I never meant Harold to die. You must believe me. It wasn’t my fault. I asked Gran the day she cursed Richard. I told her what I’d used. She said it wouldn’t have killed him – it just made him sick.’
‘What did you give him?’
‘I don’t even know what it’s called. It’s a herb that grows wild. Gran used it to make poultices. Once, when I was a child, I ate some – just chewed at the leaf. It made me violently sick, but I got over it within hours.’
‘Oh, Mum. Perhaps it didn’t kill Father, but it didn’t help him.’
‘It was only a few times. After you’d fallen pregnant and he’d threatened us both. Never before that, and that’s the truth. I promise you, Emma. I wouldn’t have poisoned him. I just didn’t want him to turn violent. I thought if he didn’t feel good he’d have enough on his mind.’
She looked ashamed of herself, and I sighed.
How could I blame her for doing what she had? Father had been so unkind to her. For years he had bullied and carped at her. She had put up with his mental and physical cruelty for my sake, knowing that I had the chance of a better life as his daughter. She wasn’t strong enough to stand on her own feet and make a living for us both. So she had endured her husband’s taunting and the occasional blow for the sake of what he might leave me.
In a way it was poetic justice, and yet it left an unpleasant taste in my mouth. She ought to have found the courage to leave my father when I was still a child. What she had done was attempt to protect me, but it was wrong. It was wrong, and yet I could not be angry with her, I could not condemn her. I loved her.
‘I know you didn’t kill him, Mum,’ I said, moving to hug her, my eyes misting. ‘I know what you did was for me – but that doesn’t make it right.’
‘I know.’ She sniffed hard and I gave her my handkerchief. She accepted it with a watery smile. ‘But I couldn’t stand to see you hurt, Emma. And when Richard started hitting you …’ A tiny sob escaped her. ‘But now it’s all gone wrong. I’ve killed Gran …’
‘Of course you haven’t,’ I said. ‘It was her own idea to put the curse on Richard. I begged her not to do anything silly. I was going to leave him when I was ready. I wouldn’t have put up with his bullying for ever – not the way you did, Mum.’
She looked at me, a strange expression in her eyes. ‘No, you wouldn’t have, Emma. I can see that now. You’re stronger than I am. You must get that from your father. Harold had his ways … but he wasn’t a bad man. If I’d been a virgin when we wed, who knows? We might have been very happy.’ She sighed. ‘But he couldn’t forgive me for that, and it ruined everything.’
‘Did you ever love him, Mum?’
She shook her head. ‘Not really. I put money above love, and look where it got me. You’ll never do that, will you, Emma? Promise me you’ll marry for love next time.’
‘But I’m still married to Richard.’
‘Perhaps not for much longer.’
A shudder ran through me. I got up from the sofa and walked over to the window, gazing out at the back yard. It was getting dark now. Richard was out there somewhere.
What was in his mind? He had killed once – was it his intention to kill again?
‘The back door is bolted inside,’ I said, without turning round. ‘And I’ll make sure the shop is secure after Ben goes off for the night – but if Richard is desperate he’ll get in somehow. I should lock your door from now on, Mum.’
‘Y
ou’ve no need to remind me,’ she said. ‘You do the same, Emma. I shan’t feel safe until he’s been arrested.’
‘No, nor me,’ I replied. ‘We shall just have to be careful, that’s all.’
‘I could ask a friend of mine to move in for a while,’ she said tentatively. ‘Just to sleep – in case Richard tries to break in while we’re asleep.’
‘A friend?’ I was puzzled, then I recalled the man she had danced with at the church social. ‘Do you mean Mr Fitch – the man you were dancing with the night we went out with Richard?’
There was a faint flush in her cheeks. ‘Yes. I haven’t told you before, Emma, because it was too soon. And I couldn’t think of leaving you while Richard was around, but Bert has asked me to marry him.’
‘Do you want to?’ She didn’t answer at once, but there was something in her eyes. Suddenly the penny dropped. ‘He’s the one, isn’t he? He asked you to marry him years ago, but you said no and he went away.’
‘I regretted it as soon as he’d gone,’ she admitted. ‘I didn’t realize how much I loved him until I’d lost him.’
‘Oh, Mum,’ I said, feeling pity for her. She had been tied to a man she didn’t love for years. ‘Why didn’t you write to him – ask him to come back?’
‘I didn’t know where he’d gone. Besides, Harold was courting me. He seemed such a wonderful catch, Emma. He would never discuss his folk, but I think he came from a good family. There was always some mystery about that; he would never talk about the past – even when he cared about me. And I think he did … at the beginning.’
My throat caught as I pictured her life, her regret and disappointment when nothing turned out as she had hoped.
‘You should have left Father years ago, Mum.’
‘I had you to think of,’ she said. ‘But you’re grown up, Emma. You’ve a good head on your shoulders. I shan’t do anything just yet, but when this is all over …’
‘Yes, you should marry him, Mum – if it’s what you want.’
‘It is,’ she said. ‘Bert still loves me, even after all this time. I think we can make each other happy.’
‘Good, I’m glad.’
