A Family Christmas

by Glenice Crossland

  ‘Nothing to be alarmed about,’ the tallest assured them. ‘We’d just like to know where you were on the night Evelyn Smithson’s murder took place.’

  Ben was alarmed. ‘I was tucked up in bed with my wife by that time.’ He told them he was a family friend and that it was his sister who had found Evelyn’s body. ‘What makes you think I had anything to do with it?’ he asked.

  ‘We don’t. We’re in the process of checking everyone who owns a motorcycle in the Rotherham and Sheffield areas.’

  Ben whistled. ‘By gum, that’ll take some time.’

  ‘Not really; we’ve eliminated half of you already. We just need to know if you lent out your machine to anyone on that night.’

  ‘No, it’s kept locked up in the store room in the yard.’

  ‘Good, that’s all we need to know. We won’t disturb your lunch any longer.’

  ‘That’s all right. I hope you catch the bugger. He should be hung for what he did to Evelyn.’

  ‘He will be, don’t you worry.’ The men put on their trilbies and made their way back through the shop where Mrs Scott was anxiously serving a customer.

  ‘My word, they look as if they mean business,’ the woman said as she looked questioningly at the shopkeeper.

  ‘Oh, just a couple of salesmen.’ Mrs Scott loved a gossip, but knew when to keep her mouth closed and when to open it. She was relieved however when Emma explained the visit had just been a routine one and nothing to worry about. At first Mrs Scott had thought the men were the weights and measures inspectors. She would rather have a dozen detectives in the shop any day than one of those.

  She waited until Robbie came upstairs and gave him time to undress and get into bed, then Prudence gave a squeal, just loud enough to be heard through the adjoining wall. When there was no response from Robbie she tapped on the wall and called his name.

  ‘Robbie. Help.’

  Robbie couldn’t very well ignore a cry for help and ran to the door. Tapping on it, he waited.

  ‘Come in. Please help.’ Prudence was standing on the bed wearing just a flimsy nightdress, which was almost transparent with the light from over the bed showing through it.

  ‘Oh, Robbie, I’m so scared. There’s something in my room, down there in the corner. I think it’s a mouse.’

  Robbie walked round the bed and looked under the dressing table in the corner of the room, self-conscious in his striped pyjamas. ‘I can’t see anything.’ He stood up. ‘Keep quiet a minute and we might hear something.’

  Then Prudence began to giggle. ‘Oh, Robbie, you look so funny in your ’jamas.’ She switched out the light. ‘Please, give me a cuddle, just one little cuddle.’ Robbie knew then he had been tricked and made for the door. ‘Come back here.’

  ‘You’re mad, Prudence. Goodnight.’

  ‘Go away.’ Prudence raised her voice so that it carried through the silent house. ‘Don’t ever come to my room again.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’ Robbie was just going along the corridor when Herbert Goodman opened his door.

  ‘What’s going on?’ He looked Robbie up and down, alarmed at his state of undress.

  ‘A mouse in Prudence’s room,’ Robbie answered and disappeared into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He must get away from this house. Prudence Goodman was stark raving mad, Robbie was sure of it.

  Next morning Prudence never appeared at breakfast and much to Robbie’s relief nobody mentioned the night before. As soon as Robbie had left for work however, the conversation turned to the fact that Robbie had been in their daughter’s room in his nightwear. ‘You’ll have to talk to her,’ Herbert told Louisa. ‘Find out what happened.’

  ‘I’m sure it was entirely as Robbie told you, that there was a mouse in her room. We shall have to set the traps or we shall end up being overrun like last time.’

  ‘Louisa, this isn’t about mice. We can’t have Robbie visiting our daughter’s room. You must ask her what occurred.’

  ‘If anything, which I don’t think for a moment it did. I trust Robert but I’m not sure I trust Prudence.’

  Herbert was shocked. ‘You’re surely not suggesting Prudence welcomed his advances?’

  ‘I’m sure she would, if there had been any. I don’t think there were.’

  ‘Well, find out anyway. We must put a stop to whatever happened.’

  Louisa sighed. ‘Oh very well, I’ll talk to her.’ She left her breakfast almost untouched and went upstairs. Conversing with Prudence was proving more difficult with each passing day.

  ‘Go away,’ Prudence called in answer to the tap on her door. Louisa ignored her and went in. ‘So what was Robbie doing in your room?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘Well, I do.’

  ‘Go away.’

  ‘Was there really a mouse in here?’ Louisa searched the lino for mouse droppings. ‘Or was it just a ruse to get Robert in your room?’

  Prudence blushed and covered her face with the eiderdown. ‘Of course it wasn’t. I don’t want to talk about it. It was too awful.’

  ‘Why? What happened?’ Louisa wondered for the first time if anything had actually happened.

  ‘I can’t tell you; I’m too upset. Go away.’

  ‘Prudence, if Robert upset you in any way I need to know.’

  ‘I’m all right. Nothing for you to worry about.’

  ‘Do you want any breakfast?’

  ‘No thank you. I’m tired. I’m going back to sleep.’

  ‘Well, call me if you want anything.’ Louisa frowned as she went downstairs. Much as she trusted Robert, she couldn’t help worrying. If he had touched Prudence in an offensive way they needed to prevent it happening again. She wondered if Herbert should talk to the boy, or perhaps it would be better to forget the whole thing. The trouble was that Louisa felt guilty because it wasn’t Robert Grey she mistrusted; it was her daughter.

  Prudence smiled to herself in the privacy of her bed. Her plan was set in motion. If only she could hurry it along, but she must be patient if it was to succeed. And succeed it would – it had to if she was to end up with Robbie Grey.

  ‘What are you doing down there, Herbert?’ Louisa called. It was unusual for her husband to venture down into the cellar.

  ‘I’m looking for the poison, just playing safe. We don’t want any vermin running wild. It would be a catastrophe if they got in the school. And it’s a five-pound fine if we don’t take steps to eliminate them.’ Prudence heard her father’s voice and smiled. Her acting must have convinced her father, even if it hadn’t succeeded in enticing Robbie to her bed. It was all the fault of the Greenwood girl. If it wasn’t for her, Prudence thought she would have a chance. She would like to use the rat poison on her. A thought suddenly entered her head. She couldn’t poison her, but she could make her life unpleasant, take away the smug smile that lit up her face whenever Robbie was near her. Later she watched her father soak pieces of bread in the poison in an old paint can lid and place it under her dressing table, warning her not to touch it. Then she saw him take the Quill poison back down the cellar steps. She could feel the excitement as an idea began to take root in her mind. She decided to take a walk up by Greenwood’s farm one afternoon and familiarise herself with the place before putting her plan into action.

  * * *

  A few nights later Prudence waited until the house was silent, then she quietly dressed and sneaked out onto the landing. She remembered that the second and seventh stairs were the ones that creaked and strode carefully over them. The house was in pitch darkness and she fumbled among the hooks on the wall until she found her black coat. Then came the tricky part of her plan – going down in the cellar without stumbling over all the junk that was stored there. She struck a match and found the poison, then she turned and knocked over a wooden clothes horse. Her hair stood on end as she waited for someone to come and investigate but no one did. She tiptoed back up the stone steps, cringing at the creaking door, then let hersel
f out into the moonless night.

  Prudence was too excited to feel nervous as she passed the billet mill with its clanging of metal, or at the sound of night creatures in the fields and hedgerows. She walked on the lane to the farm, hoping the dog was indoors – it had barked at her all the way along the lane on her afternoon walk. She had managed to locate the pond and a trough halfway along the lane. The pond was obviously the water hole for all the farm animals and ducks. If she threw the poison in the water the Greenwoods would have no chance of saving their livestock. She carefully removed the heavy chain from the gate stoop and opened the gate. There was no sign of the dog. She went towards the pond, unscrewing the top from the poison as she drew near.

  They came round the corner like two great flapping ghosts, pecking at her face, her hair and her ankles. Prudence’s heart seemed to stop beating with the shock. Then all she could think of was that she must escape without being seen. She dropped the poison in her attempt to be free of the geese but they clung to her coat and followed her, pecking at her legs all the way out of the yard and along the lane. She heard the dog barking and at last managed to shake off the cackling geese.

  She set off running along the lane and over the stile to the path, stumbling in the darkness and falling a couple of yards until she managed to grab hold of a tree branch. Then she sat, tears of rage mingling with blood, before rising to her feet and returning home, wondering how to explain the bruises and scratches on her exposed flesh.

  An hour later Prudence, now wearing her nightdress, bumped her way as loudly as possible down the stairs, letting out a scream as she positioned herself in a crumpled heap at the bottom. Herbert was the first on the scene, with Louisa hurrying behind.

  ‘Where am I?’ Prudence rose to her feet.

  ‘Prudence, what happened to you?’ The concern on her father’s face almost made her smile.

  ‘Oh dear, I must have been walking in my sleep and fallen down the stairs.’

  ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Well, maybe my nose and I must have hurt my hands as I fell. My ankles feel a bit tender, but yes, I’m all right.’

  Louisa went to help her daughter to her feet and noticed the mud on her ankles. Then she saw the footprints on the hall floor and knew they hadn’t been there when she locked up. ‘Prudence, why are you lying?’

  ‘Louisa, have you no compassion? Our daughter could have been killed.’ Herbert couldn’t understand his wife sometimes. Neither could he suspect his daughter of any wrongdoing. She had always been Daddy’s little girl and that little girl was crafty enough to conceal her actions from her father. Louisa, on the other hand, knew how cunning her daughter could be and she was becoming afraid. Afraid that her daughter was not only unusual but was actually mad. Louisa was afraid of what Prudence was capable of next.

  ‘Yes, she could have been killed if she’d fallen down the stairs, but you didn’t, did you? You’ve been out and up to something. Why are you lying?’ Louisa went to the hook where Prudence had hung her coat, the back of which was covered in dry mud. ‘Well?’

  Prudence began to cry. ‘I don’t feel very well. I’m going to bed.’

  ‘Herbert, aren’t you going to ask her where she’s been?’

  Herbert was red in the face. ‘I don’t know what’s got into you, Louisa. Are you seriously suggesting Prudence is telling untruths? Why should she go out during the night?’

  ‘You tell me, Herbert.’ Louisa stormed up the stairs and into the bedroom where she slammed the door, releasing some of her pent-up anger.

  Robbie heard the commotion, saw that it was still dark and buried his head beneath the blankets. Whatever was happening, he was keeping out of it. There was no way he was venturing out of his room in the middle of the night, ever again. Especially for someone as crazy as Prudence Goodman.

  ‘Whoever would want to do such a thing?’ Little Arthur stood in disbelief, gazing at the poison. His nightshirt, which would have reached the knees of a taller man, was covering his bare feet. He had known something was wrong the moment he had heard the din Gertie and Gussie were making. Unfortunately he hadn’t been in time to catch the culprit, just to see them hurrying away along the lane.

  ‘Nay, lad, I’m sure I don’t know. Oh, Arthur, what if they’d poisoned the pond and we hadn’t known? We’d ’ave lost everything. By tomorrer all’t cattle and horses’d be dead, not to mention flock. Even the geese depend on that pond for drinking watter. It doesn’t bear thinking about.’

  Little Arthur suddenly hurried to where his wellington boots stood by the door and slipped them on under his nightshirt.

  ‘What are yer doing, Dad?’ Dot had put on her clothes.

  ‘I’m going to cover’t horse trough. It’ll have to be emptied first thing in’t morning in case it’s been poisoned, but for now I’ll just put summat over it to stop it being drunk out of.’

  ‘I’m going down for the constable.’ Dot put on her coat.

  ‘Aye, it should be reported. If there’s a lunatic about it might be Barker’s farm or one of the others next time. But I’ll go. Damn it all, Dot, it’s the middle of the night and there’s a mad man out theer, somewhere. I’m not ’aving you going by yerself.’

  ‘I’ll be OK. I know the path blindfold and can run all the way down. I can come back with Bobby Jones. You and me mam have a hot drink and build the fire up for when we get back.’

  ‘Well, if yer sure.’ Dot was already on her way. ‘Wait, I’ll walk on’t lane and stand by’t stile until yer get to’t bottom. Then I’ll put some planks over’t trough.’

  Boadacea threw a shovelful of coal on the fire and moved the kettle onto it. Then she sat on the bench, her elbows resting on the table, her head in her hands, and tried to make sense of what had happened. Both her mother’s family and the Greenwoods had lived on this hillside from the day they were born and in all those years to her knowledge, not one wrong word had been uttered between them and anyone in Millington. Indeed, both she and Little Arthur had gone out of their way to help anyone in need. So why should anybody wish them harm? Try as she might, no sense could be made of it. There was one thing for sure: if it hadn’t been for the geese they would have lost everything. Oh well, she’d better get dressed. Boadacea looked down at the voluminous flannel nighty and despite the seriousness of the occasion couldn’t help but smile. It wouldn’t do for Bobby Jones to see her in her nightwear. No, it wouldn’t do at all. It might put him off women for the rest of his life.

  She went and put on some clothes, then lifted down a side of bacon from a hook in the low-beamed ceiling. She’d cut a few slices whilst she was waiting. Bobby Jones would no doubt make the interview last until breakfast time and she knew he was partial to a bit of home-fed, a couple of new laid eggs and a few doorsteps. She suddenly experienced a deep sense of relief that her family and livestock were all safe. There were some wicked people in the world but you couldn’t go through life worrying about when they might turn up. All you could do was thank God for the good things in life and so long as she had Little Arthur and their Dot she had a hell of a lot to be thankful for.

  Constable Jones liked to get his head down for a couple of hours on the night shift. There was never much going off in Millington after the pubs had closed at ten. Except on Saturdays, when there might be a couple of fist fights after the dance finished, usually between the Cragstone lot and the gang from Warrentickle, falling out over a girl. He had sent the lad out for a final check along the main road and had just dozed off in front of the police station fire. He was in the middle of a dream and in another second he would have known the name of the winning horse in the Grand National. So he didn’t take kindly to being disturbed. Neither did he fancy the trek up the hill to Greenwood’s Farm, but at least he’d be sure of a welcome when he got there. He couldn’t believe it when Arthur showed him the poison. No ordinary householder could have acquired such a large quantity. It must have been stolen from a large establishment such as the steelwork
s or a school. ‘I’ll ask around and see if there’s any gone missing,’ he said. ‘They’ll surely have records at the town hall about who’s been allowed such a large amount. Other than that there’s not a lot I can do. Now if you had a description of the person it’d be a different kettle of fish.’

  ‘You could keep a lookout and mek sure it doesn’t ’appen again.’

  ‘Oh aye, I shall be doing that. I’ll put my lad on to keep watch, don’t you fret.’

  ‘Aye well then … seeing as we’re all up, what about a bit of a fry up?’

  ‘That’d be right welcome, Arthur. Right welcome.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  JANE HAD JUST finished polishing the teacher’s desk in Class Three. Another room done. Only the Baby Class now and she’d done for the weekend. She looked round the room with pride. The windows were sparkling and the wooden floor shone. The cobwebs had been removed from behind the book cupboard and the nasty smell of dirty flower vases and wet raincoats had been eliminated. The headmaster had commented that it was a pleasure coming to school these days and in an effort to help Jane carry on with the good work had told the teachers that each child must put their chair up on the desk before going home. This made Jane’s job so much easier and she had never been happier than she was since marrying James and taking over the school. She moved on with her polish and dusters and was just polishing the door of the Baby Class when Robbie came along the corridor.

  ‘Hello, Robbie. You’ve finished early, haven’t you?’

  ‘Aye, I wondered if I could talk to our James, but there’s nobody in.’

  ‘No, he’s on afters and won’t be home till gone ten.’ Jane perched on one of the little desks. ‘Is there something wrong?’

  ‘Yes, but I’ll come back when our James is in.’

  ‘Come on, you can tell me. A trouble shared is a trouble halved; well, that’s what my dad used to say,’ she added wistfully.

  ‘My mam used to say that too,’ Robbie answered.