Teardrops in the Moon

by Crosse, Tania

  Down in Tavistock, marines let off a series of detonations. A train in the station repeatedly blew its whistle. The town laundry and the factory let off their sirens. Across the country, church bells rang out.

  But no one would ever, ever forget.

  ‘So, what are we all going to do, now the war’s over?’ Kate asked in her usual direct manner.

  It was Wednesday morning, two days after the war had ended. Kate had driven up to Fencott Place with little Valerie in the wagonette pulled by Clomper, the only horse the Pencarrows had been allowed to keep for all the land they farmed. They were gathered in the drawing room, Valerie playing quietly on the rug with her doll.

  ‘That’s a good question.’ Seth puffed out his cheeks wistfully. ‘Which is why I’m pleased you came over as we need to discuss some things as a family.’

  ‘That sounds ominous.’

  ‘It’s certainly serious,’ Seth confirmed, ‘and we have various matters to consider. First of all, the stud-farm. Obviously we won’t be selling any more stock to the army, or training any more horses for them. And to be honest, we were struggling to keep up with their demands. I’m getting too old and this chest of mine makes me worse than useless. Your mother’s the most brilliant horsewoman who ever lived, but she’s sixty-four and can’t be expected to work like a slave, and she needs a rest after all her work at the moss-gathering centre. Marianne, I know, will do all she can, but she has Albert to care for. So that leaves Joe, who’s turned sixty himself. Now I know Marianne and Albert had plans for the stables for when the war was over but that was before Albert was injured, so we need to look at the reality of the situation as it stands now.’

  ‘Which is?’ Kate prompted.

  ‘Well, unless they turn to tractors which I can’t see happening on a large scale for quite a while, farmers will be desperate to replace their horses, but we’ve none to sell until our young stock matures which will be at least six months. We’ve only rebuilt the stable-block due to Albert’s generosity—’

  ‘It was the least I could do,’ Albert insisted, blushing slightly. ‘I no longer needed my own house since you took me in, so I had the money from its sale.’

  ‘It was still very good of you.’

  ‘Well, I can’t understand why the police never managed to catch that devil who burnt them down in the first place,’ Kate declared, blowing out her lips like a horse. ‘And he would have set fire to the house too, if it hadn’t been for Marianne. And if it was the same blighter who tried to attack her back along but didn’t succeed, why would he bear such a grudge?’

  Marianne bit the inside of her lip. She couldn’t be sure, but it had slowly dawned on her where she might have seen the blackguard before. Could it have been the stranger who had tricked her and then attempted to assault her out on the moor shortly before she had gone to France? She had only caught a glimpse of him on each occasion. She felt cross with herself for not reporting the incident at the time for fear it would make her parents try to stop her joining the FANY, and it had made her utterly ashamed when she had revealed it after the fire, claiming that she hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. But at least now, if it was the same villain, she had been able not only to give a description to the police, but also to tell them that he had appeared to be in disguise when he had attacked her on the moor. Nevertheless, whoever he was, he had disappeared into thin air.

  ‘Well, although none of us can think of anyone, it would seem we’ve made an enemy somewhere without realizing it,’ Seth continued. ‘The inspector thought it could be the same person who stole the horses. Whoever it was must have known the layout of the place, finding the one weak spot we hadn’t been aware of ourselves. But there’s little we can do except be extra vigilant. Anyway, to get back to what I was saying, we can’t look upon the horses as a source of income for some time, and then it will only be limited. And quite frankly, until this business is solved, I don’t believe we should do anything further with the horses at all.’

  ‘When it is, though, Dad, Albert and I still want to build up the stables to some extent at least, don’t we?’ Marianne said, smiling fondly at Albert.

  ‘That’s right,’ Albert agreed. ‘Train up a couple of stable lads, perhaps. Go back to breeding fine hunters as well on a small scale. It wouldn’t be the same as before the war, but I’m sure we could turn it to profit.’

  ‘Well that’s up to you, of course. But that will take time, and meanwhile we all have to live.’ Seth paused to swallow some water in order to subdue the cough that kept interrupting him. ‘Once again, Albert is being most kind, but it isn’t fair for us to rely on his generosity. Now, as you know, the only other source of family income has only ever been the investments Rose inherited from her first husband. And together with the unfortunate mistakes Hal made, they hit rock bottom with the war. Hopefully the stock market will pick up, but I can’t see that happening for some years. So, your mother and I have come to a decision.’

  He turned to Rose and she nodded, taking everyone’s attention. Marianne’s heart was in her mouth, for what could that decision be that it warranted the formal introduction her father had given it? From what he had said earlier, surely it wasn’t that they were going to sell Fencott Place? Like much of the property on Dartmoor, it was leasehold to the Duchy of Cornwall, so wasn’t worth as much as might appear anyway. And it was the only home she had ever known, ever wanted, the bedrock of her life! No, they couldn’t—

  ‘We’re going to sell the house in London,’ Rose announced, and Marianne almost collapsed with relief. ‘It’s only small, of course, not like Charles’s place was. But it’s been a useful base for your father to stay when he needed to go to London to sort out our affairs there. But,’ she sighed, lowering her eyes, ‘he’s not up to doing that anymore, so it makes sense to sell it.’

  ‘Oh.’ It was Kate’s audible disappointment that turned everyone’s head.

  ‘Why, do you have some objection?’ her mother asked in bewildered surprise.

  ‘W-well,’ Kate stammered, ‘it’s just that Philip and I have been talking. And we’d anticipated much of what you’ve been saying. And you know Philip’s much more of a businessman than a farmer. I mean, he’s very knowledgeable and experienced and works like a Trojan, which was why he was exempted from conscription, he and Josh both. But he doesn’t like farming. And now the war’s over, Richard’s already had people asking about tenancies on Hillside and even Moor Top for when their sons or husbands are demobilized. So, if you agreed, we were thinking of going to live in the London house, for a while at least, to see if Philip could restore some of the Warrington family fortune.’

  Astonishment bounced around the room and for some moments nobody spoke as incredulous looks were exchanged.

  ‘Well, that’s a turn-up for the books,’ Rose declared at length.

  ‘Not for us, though.’ Kate shook her head. ‘Philip and I had been thinking about it for some time as the Allies were gradually beating back the Hun and it was obvious they were going to have to capitulate. The thing is, Philip’s so good with figures and he’s always followed the stock market closely. If we were living in London, he could keep his ear to the ground far better. He’d get a job, preferably in the City, to support us as a family, but I reckon, with his finger on the pulse, you’d be able to dispense with your stockbroker and that would save you money as well.’

  Marianne saw her father lift a considering eyebrow, but she herself felt leaden anger at the mention of her father’s stockbroker. She alone knew that it was his daughter’s refusal of Hal’s proposal that had sent her brother off the rails the night he had lost so much of the family money – and led to his enlisting before he was conscripted. Who knew if he might still have been alive if it hadn’t been for her?

  ‘But what about the children?’ Rose was asking now. ‘And the house is very small. It only has two bedrooms.’

  ‘The childr
en can share to start with, but Philip will turn the attic into another room,’ Kate said in a matter-of-fact way. ‘Adam’s quite happy provided he can spend the school holidays either here or back at the farm, and Valerie’s too young to know any different.’

  ‘Well, you seem to have it all worked out.’ Seth pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘I suppose we could give it a trial for, say, six months. Let your mother and me sleep on it.’

  It was just then that Patsy put her head around the door to announce that lunch was ready. Everyone got to their feet to make for the dining room, including Albert who had learnt to walk in a precarious fashion using crutches and one prosthetic leg. Sadly, the other stump was still refusing to heal properly, so he would have to wait until it did before he could be fitted with a second false limb.

  Kate went to fetch Valerie from her position on the rug. She was a placid child and jumped up readily to take her mother’s hand. Marianne had hung back, hoping to have a quiet word with her sister, and took her little niece’s other hand.

  ‘Is this really what you want?’ she asked in a desperate whisper. ‘To leave Dartmoor? Our home? Forget all the adventures we had together out on the moor?’

  Kate merely shrugged. ‘Of course I’ll always love the place and look forward to coming down for the holidays. But I’m not like you, Marianne. I don’t live and breathe for the moor. This will be a new adventure. Exciting. There’ll be theatres and cinemas. An entire new social life. And so many more opportunities for the children as they grow up. Now, then, Valerie,’ she said, bending down to her daughter. ‘Do you think Grandma Rose will have your favourite for lunch?’

  Marianne almost wilted on the spot. She really had lost her soul-mate, hadn’t she? All those years, she had secretly hoped she might have Kate back as her partner in crime for escapades out on the moor. Just occasionally. But that hope had finally been smashed to smithereens forever. And if she hadn’t been holding Valerie’s hand, she might have stayed alone in the room and wept.

  The horses ambled along the frost-hardened track, their necks bending in unison and blowing out clouds of warm breath into the cold air. Pegasus and Captain had become friends in the months they had been together, the spirited stallion and the stalwart gelding. They both seemed to sense that when Albert was on Captain’s back, they must pick their way slowly and carefully. But whenever Rose rode him, the pair would race as fast as the uneven terrain would allow. Rose and Captain had taken to each other as soon as he had arrived, and his presence had gone a long way to ease Rose’s heartbreak over Hermes who had never been found.

  ‘It’s just beginning to sink in that the war’s truly over, you know,’ Albert said wistfully as they sauntered along. ‘At least as cavalry we didn’t spend nearly as much time in the trenches as the poor Tommies did, even when we were dismounted which was so much of the time. It was awful, you know. The rats and lice. Decomposing body parts that suddenly appeared out of the mud. The stench when it was so wet that effluent from the latrines got washed about your feet. And that was without being constantly under attack or going over the top.’

  ‘I know. But it really is over now, and we must look to the future. My main concern is for Kate and Philip and the children,’ Marianne sighed dejectedly. ‘I wish they weren’t up in London with this new wave of flu. They say it’s not quite so virulent as back in the summer, but almost. And it’s hitting cities so much worse than country areas.’

  ‘People are wearing masks, though. And many churches and dancehalls and that sort of thing are shut. And the government has instructed cinemas to open all their windows and ventilate them every four hours.’

  ‘Much good that’ll do,’ Marianne scoffed. ‘Manchester’s been virtually closed down though, to try and prevent it spreading. I just wish they’d do the same with London. Kate says they’re trapped now as travelling back here could expose the children worse than staying put and keeping indoors. And when poor Philip comes home, Kate doesn’t let him see the children. She makes him have a stripped wash in the bedroom and stay there. And she sleeps on the couch downstairs. God, I do hope her precautions work. Oh,’ Marianne said suddenly, her attention diverted. ‘Hold Pegasus’s reins a minute would you? That sheep seems to be in trouble.’

  She swung her leg over Pegasus’s neck and hopped down to the ground. Not far from the track, the sheep in question was trailing a hind-leg that appeared to be entangled in a loose strand of rusty barbed wire. The animal didn’t appreciate Marianne’s efforts to help it, and she had to straddle it backwards even then, having to avoid its frantically kicking hoofs. It took her some time to free it, and when she did, she prized up a large stone and buried the offending item safely beneath it.

  ‘Some farmers can be so careless with their fences,’ she complained as she climbed back into the saddle.

  ‘Do you know, Marianne Warrington,’ Albert declared as they set off again, ‘you are the most extraordinary woman. You face life head on. If there’s a problem, you’ll always find a way to solve it. You rescue sheep. Waifs and strays—’

  ‘And who might they be?’ she laughed.

  ‘Me, for instance.’ Albert’s voice was low and sombre. ‘You train wild horses. You tackle fires and confront intruders. You take yourself off to France to drive an ambulance through constant air-raids—’

  ‘So did plenty of others,’ Marianne protested, a trifle embarrassed. ‘And many have stayed on to help refugees return to what’s left of their homes and rebuild their lives. Like Mary. She said she won’t come home for some time, even though Michael’s likely to be repatriated soon.’

  ‘And if it hadn’t been for me, you’d probably still be out there, too. No, don’t argue. You know it’s true. But it must mean that I mean a great deal to you. A very great deal. So, I’m hoping,’ he went on hesitantly, sucking the breath over his teeth, ‘that I can mean even more to you. So . . . I’d get down on my knees if it were possible, but, Marianne . . . will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

  He was gazing at her so intently, his eyes boring into hers, that she had to look away, afraid of what her expression might say. She was so shocked, and yet why should she be? They had grown so close, their minds always as one. But it was an easy closeness that was somehow bereft of passion, and she liked it that way. Their heady lovemaking in the little room above the French restaurant was a forgotten dream. A world away.

  ‘Oh, Albert, I don’t know,’ she groaned softly, the words out before she could stop them.

  She heard Albert swallow hard. ‘Of course, if you don’t fancy being in bed with a man who can’t even call himself a peg-leg, I’ll understand.’

  ‘Oh, no, Albert, don’t think that!’ She whipped her head round to face him. ‘It’s got nothing to with it. It’s just that . . . I’ve never told anyone before, but. . .’ She paused, releasing a tortured sigh. But the moment had come to face up to herself. ‘Years ago, I made a vow. When Kate announced she was pregnant with Adam, I felt I’d lost her. Lost part of myself, we were that close. It was as if she’s renounced Dartmoor. Everything that we’d ever had together. And I vowed that I’d never do the same. That I’d never marry and have children. That Dartmoor would be my one and only love. And the horses.’

  ‘We can love Dartmoor and the horses together,’ Albert pointed out simply.

  ‘Yes, I know.’ Marianne rolled her head in anguish. ‘But with Kate going to London, all that hurt has come back again. And, well, I’m just not ready.’

  ‘I understand,’ Albert nodded gravely. ‘We won’t speak of it again. But if you do decide you’re ready, then I’ll be waiting for you.’

  And the smile he gave her was so full of warmth and loving devotion that her heart was torn apart.

  Mild heart attack. Ned Cornish mulled the words over in his brain, his lips pushed forward in a knot. The quack had given him some pills, but what good would they do? His days were numbered.


  How did he feel? Scared? A little. Shocked? Well, somewhat numbed, he supposed. But sad or devastated? He had to admit that he didn’t really. His had been a lonely life. He’d never had many friends. You didn’t when you existed in the murky world of distrust and criminality.

  His one regret was that he had let Rose Maddiford slip through his fingers. He had loved her with a jealous passion. And she was just as beautiful now in her mid-sixties. He could have had her if he’d tried. He’d just always felt he wasn’t good enough for her. He was a stable-boy, unable to do more than scrawl his own name, but it had never bothered him much. Except where Rose was concerned. But he could have learnt to read and write properly, as he had since. He could even have asked Rose herself to teach him. She was so kind, he was sure she would have done. And then she might have seen that he wasn’t as ignorant as he appeared, simply lacking in education and opportunity.

  It was his stubborn pride, his innate bitter jealousy that she was a have and he was a have not, that had got in the way. And now? Well, he shouldn’t have stolen the horses and burgled the house, or attacked her beautiful daughter who was so much the image of Rose as a young woman that it brought saliva to his mouth even now. Especially when he thought of her on the night of the fire, dressed only in a flimsy nightdress. He shouldn’t have done that either. His blood turned at the memory. He’d been involved in gangland murders, and they’d deserved it. But if someone innocent had died in a fire he had started, he would never have forgiven himself. He gave himself that credit, at least.

  He was a dying man. But was there any way, before he went, that he could get close to Rose just one last time? Touch her hand? Beg her forgiveness? He would have to think about it. And then he could die happy.