by Linda Sole
Tom stared at her hungrily. He was about to go to her when he saw that she was looking elsewhere. His eyes sought what she had seen and discovered she was looking at her brother talking to a young, very elegant and beautiful woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. Neither of them had eyes for anyone but each other. As Tom watched, they linked arms and walked towards the hotel, disappearing inside.
Roz was looking at him now. He could tell that she was anxious or disturbed but when he took a step towards her she shook her head. A moment later he saw her husband join her and turned away as she smiled at Harry Rushden.
Jealousy ate at his insides. For a moment as their eyes met Tom had thought she felt as he did, but the smile she gave to Rushden was intimate and welcoming.
He was a damned fool to care, but he did. The longing for her was like a sickness in his blood.
He turned away and strode back through the market to the livery where he’d left his horse and cart. It was time he got back to the farm and his work. Roz was not for him. She never had been. The day she let him love her was just something that happened because of a rainstorm; it was a dream. He was kidding himself otherwise.
Mary Jane draped the filmy pink scarf around her throat and preened in front of the spotted mirror in her bedroom. Tom’s loving had been passionate the night he gave her the scarf. A month had passed and since then he’d been busy on the farm again, making love to her only twice in that time, but she was fairly certain that she’d fallen for a child and that pleased her. Perhaps when she told him she was pregnant Tom would take more time off to be with her. He seemed fond of Carrie’s little girl so he was bound to love his own child when it was born.
She had finished her chores for the morning and she was going to visit her family. It was nearly three weeks since the last time and Ellen had told her to go.
‘You work harder than Carrie ever did,’ Ellen said when she came in for tea and cake mid morning. ‘As soon as you’ve finished in the dairy, you get off to see your ma, lass.’
‘Thanks, Ellen. I’ll be back in time for the milking this evening.’
‘Tom isn’t so busy as he was now the threshing is done and they’ve got most of the ploughing done as well. You stop a bit longer and make a day of it, lass.’
Mary Jane called out to her mother-in-law as she left the kitchen, but she was upstairs seeing to the baby or John Blake and didn’t hear. As Mary Jane crossed the yard she saw Carrie ahead of her. She was about to call out to her, then decided against it. Just out of curiosity, she would follow Tom’s sister and see where she went this afternoon.
Philip dismounted from his horse and tied it to a post outside the cottage. He looked over his shoulder but there was no sign of Madeline. She had promised she would get away if she could but he knew she couldn’t always make it. The drive out from Wisbech was further than she liked and she had been nagging him to find somewhere closer where they could meet. He was unwilling to go to a hotel because he was well known in the small market town and it would cause gossip that might come to Julia’s ears.
Philip was grateful to his wife for all she’d brought him in the marriage contract. He knew that without her money he would have gone under before this and he had no intention of ruining his marriage. He’d stopped meeting Carrie as soon as he married, but Madeline had tempted him. She’d made it plain from the beginning that she was available and Philip just hadn’t been able to resist.
He turned with her name on his lips as the door opened but the smile died as he saw who had entered. He was suddenly angry and nervous, because if Madeline saw him with the Blake girl she would put two and two together. No one but Roz knew and she’d promised him she wouldn’t say anything for Julia’s sake.
‘What do you want?’ he asked and glared at Carrie. ‘I told you it was over. You’re not supposed to come here.’
‘I come whenever I like,’ Carrie said and smiled. ‘You promised me a shilling for the babe but you broke your promise.’
Philip thrust his hand in his pocket and drew out a guinea, shoving it at her. ‘Take this and go. I don’t want you here. I have nothing more to say to you.’
Carrie’s eyes grew dark with distress. ‘You said you loved me and you gave me a baby. I did as you told me and said it was your pa – but it wasn’t. He smiled at me and gave me a shilling but he didn’t give me a baby. You were the one that loved me. You brought me here and told me this was our secret place.’
‘It was then but it isn’t now. Go away, Carrie. I don’t want you here ever again. Take the money and stay away – or I might be angry.’
Carrie looked at him, a mutinous line to her mouth. ‘I’m not daft in the head. Everyone thinks I am but I know what goes on. I saw you with her . . . the woman who lives in Wisbech. You brought her here.’
‘Damn you!’ Philip moved towards her, his expression threatening. ‘Go away now or I shan’t be responsible for my actions.’
‘Kiss me; do it again, the way you did before. I like babies. Make another baby for me, Philip.’
‘I’m the squire to you,’ Philip muttered. ‘I don’t want to touch you – and don’t think you can blackmail me. I’ll deny it and I’ll make you sorry.’
Carrie sidled up to him, unbuttoning her dress to show him her full breasts. ‘Touch me and suck me like the baby does, Philip. I want to do it again . . . the way we did before.’
‘No, damn you. Are you too stupid to know when a man doesn’t want you?’
‘I’m not stupid . . .’ Carrie flew at him, her nails going for his face.
Philip grabbed her by the wrists and shoved her away from him, hard. She fell and struck her head on the wooden arm of a heavy chair. A little gasp left her lips and then she lay still.
‘Get up, you silly bitch,’ Philip said and touched her with the toe of his boot. She didn’t move so he kicked her but she still made no sound. Suddenly anxious, he dropped to his knees on the floor and bent over her. Carrie’s eyes had closed and the colour had gone from her face. He shook her and her head flopped to one side. A sense of panic sweeping over him, he felt her neck and discovered that it had broken. ‘No. God, what have I done?’ Vomit rose in his throat as he realized what a single act of temper had done. He’d killed her. Surely it wasn’t possible. He felt for a pulse but there was none.
How could it have happened? Philip hadn’t meant to kill her but he had; he was a murderer. Fear set in as he realized he’d murdered Carrie and he felt cold all over. If anyone discovered what he’d done he would hang for murder.
Fighting down the panic, Philip tried to think about what to do for the best. Hearing sounds from outside, he pushed Carrie’s body under the table. It was covered with a long chenille cloth that hid her completely. A moment later Madeline entered the room. She smiled and came towards him, her perfume so overpowering that Philip found it difficult to breathe.
What was he going to do? He couldn’t make love to Madeline now. Not when Carrie’s body lay under the table. He had to think about what he needed to do to cover up the murder. The body wasn’t safe here because Madeline knew about the cottage. He had no illusions. She wouldn’t hide a thing like that for him, unless he paid her and he didn’t have enough money to keep her quiet. She was a greedy, grasping woman and he’d been a fool to become involved with her.
‘I thought you weren’t coming. I was just about to leave.’
‘After I’ve come all this way to see you?’ Madeline pouted. ‘You might at least kiss me – be a little pleased to see me, Philip.’
‘Of course I’m pleased to see you, but we can’t stay here.’
‘I don’t understand. I thought this place belonged to you?’
‘No, it isn’t mine,’ he lied. ‘Father sold it some months before he died but no one told me until recently. Apparently the owner is due to arrive at any moment – so we can’t come here again. I’ll find somewhere near Wisbech, as you wanted.’
‘The owner isn’t here now.’ Madeline pressed herself against
him. ‘Show me how pleased you are to see me, darling – or I might not meet you again.’
If he didn’t get out of here he would be sick. The fear of discovery was so strong that he couldn’t think properly.
‘Perhaps that is best.’ Philip took her arm and thrust her ahead of him, through the small hallway and out of the front door. He took a deep breath. At least he could breathe out here, but the panic wasn’t far away. He had to get rid of Madeline so that he could hide Carrie’s body.
‘What does that mean? Are you dropping me?’ Madeline looked at him, her eyes green and malevolent like an angry cat. ‘No man does that, Philip Thornton. You’ll regret treating me like this.’ She turned away, using a boulder to mount her horse without his help. For a moment she sat there, glaring at him. ‘You’ll be sorry for this, believe me.’
Philip stood and watched as she rode away. Then he turned and went back into the cottage. His chest hurt and he felt suffocated by fear. Madeline would never look at him again but at the moment he didn’t care. Oh, God, he wished he hadn’t come near this place. He wished he’d never met Madeline. If he hadn’t been afraid she would turn up and find him with Carrie he would never have hit her. He’d liked Carrie. She was worth two of the bitch that had just ridden away.
What should he do about Carrie’s body? He couldn’t move her in broad daylight. He would have to come back at night after Julia was in bed. He would carry her on to her brother’s land and leave her – perhaps near the hay barn. Tom Blake was sure to look for her when she didn’t return but with luck he would leave it until the morning.
Mary Jane was thoughtful as she walked back from her mother’s house that evening. She had solved the mystery of where Carrie went to when she disappeared for hours. She’d followed Tom’s sister to an old cottage on Thornton land and seen her go in. A horse had been tied up outside but Mary Jane didn’t know who owned it. She’d hurried on after she’d seen Carrie go inside the cottage because she’d wanted to get home and have tea with her family. There were some questions she needed to ask her mother about what happened when a woman was pregnant.
Carrie was probably meeting a man. Mary Jane wondered whether she should tell Ellen or Tom what she’d seen. They might think she was spying and say it wasn’t her business, and maybe they were right. Yet if Carrie was seeing a man it might result in yet another baby and that would be one too many. It was going to be hard enough when Mary Jane gave birth to her own baby. Carrie hardly ever did anything for her daughter, except feed her and it was left to either Ellen or Mary Jane to change her and soothe her when she cried. Carrie’s daughter would be a toddler by the time Mary Jane gave birth and more difficult than she was now. If Carrie had another baby it would make too much work.
It was time Ellen took a firmer hand with her daughter. Maybe she’d wait until her mother-in-law was in a mellow mood to tell her what she’d seen. Perhaps she ought to have waited to discover who owned the horse she’d seen tied up outside the cottage, but she’d been satisfied to know where Carrie went. At least if she was late another day, Mary Jane could tell Tom where to find her. That might be the best. Say nothing for now and let him discover what his sister was up to for himself.
Twelve
‘Carrie didn’t sleep in her bed last night.’ Ellen looked at Tom anxiously. ‘That girl will be the death of me. She has stayed out for hours before, even missed her supper – but the babe was crying half the night. I gave her a bottle of warm cow’s milk and she quietened, but she’s fretful this morning and she was sick. She still needs her mother’s milk.’
‘Do you want me to look for her?’ Tom asked. ‘I haven’t much on this morning other than the milking and mucking out the sheds. If Mary Jane helps with the milking as usual I’ll go as soon as I’ve done.’
‘You couldn’t go before you clean out the sheds? I’m sorry to ask it, Tom, but I’ve got a strange feeling. She always comes home at night. I think something has happened to her.’
‘All right, Mary Jane can get on with the milking and I’ll search for Carrie. I’ll give her a good telling off when I find her. She’s been allowed too much freedom, Ma.’
‘Yes, I know. It’s just that I’ve had so much to do with your pa. I’m washing sheets three times a day, Tom. If it weren’t for Mary Jane, I don’t know what I’d do.’
‘She’s a good girl,’ Tom acknowledged. He pushed his chair back after draining his tea. ‘I’ll eat later. If Carrie is hurt and lying out in the fields she could catch her death of cold.’
‘That’s what worries me,’ Ellen admitted. ‘Wrap up warm, Tom. It’s freezing out.’
‘There was a frost last night.’ Tom met his mother’s worried look. ‘I know what you’re thinking, Ma, but our Carrie isn’t daft enough to stay out in the fields all night. She’d find somewhere to keep warm.’
‘If she could,’ his mother agreed, ‘but I feel something bad has happened to her, Tom. I felt it last night. I should’ve told you then, but I kept thinking she would creep in late and go to bed, as she has before this.’
‘I’ll find her,’ Tom promised, pulled his old felt hat down low over his brow, and went out.
Mary Jane entered the kitchen a few minutes later. ‘I’ve been seeing to the baby,’ she said. ‘She was crying because she was wet, but she’s settled now.’
‘You’ll make a wonderful mother,’ Ellen told her. ‘Eat your breakfast, lass. You’ll have to start the milking alone. Tom had to go somewhere.’
‘He said he would give me a hand,’ Mary Jane said and sat down. ‘It won’t be long before he’ll have to help me a bit. I shan’t be able to do it all in a month or two.’
‘What do you mean?’ Ellen looked at her sharply. ‘Are you saying you’re having a baby?’
‘Yes, I think so. I asked Ma yesterday and she said the signs were all there. Do you think Tom will be pleased?’
‘Yes, I dare say,’ Ellen said and sighed. ‘We may have to take another girl on for a while but it isn’t your fault. We should have expected it to happen sooner or later.’
‘You wish it had been later.’ Mary Jane gave her a sulky look. ‘I’m Tom’s wife, not a slave.’
‘Don’t take it like that, lass. You know how I’m pushed – listen, he’s started again and I’ve only just come down from seeing to him. Sometimes I wish the good Lord would take him out my way.’
‘Ellen!’ Mary Jane looked at her in shock. ‘You shouldn’t say things like that – Ma says we’re punished for bad thoughts as much as bad deeds.’ She crossed herself quickly.
Ellen turned away and went upstairs. She had a terrible feeling that she was about to be punished for a great many bad thoughts.
Carrie was getting to be a lot of trouble. Tom had always loved his sister despite her dreaming and her strange ways. He’d felt it was his duty to look after her but just recently he’d been too caught up with his own dreams to give her more than a passing thought. His mother had complained about Carrie wandering off for long periods. Tom ought to have made it his business to find out where she went and make her see that her baby was her responsibility and not Ellen’s.
Mary Jane had worked so hard since they were wed and he knew it wasn’t fair on her. He’d asked her to be his wife, not to work like a slave. Even with the extra man Tom had taken on he’d had more than enough to do himself. It would be best to buy the land he wanted and take on a lad to do some of the work his wife was currently doing. Money might be tight for a while but in another year the new stock would make all the difference to their income. Clearly they couldn’t rely on Carrie to do much, but if Ellen were not so rushed she could keep an eye on the girl and stop her wandering off.
Tom knew how much Carrie loved the wild meadow in summer so he went down to the stream and walked along the bank to the beginning of Thornton land. He’d been half afraid he might find her body caught in the reeds and felt better as he walked on to the village. Seeing the vicar’s wife in her garden, he asked if she’d seen his sister.<
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‘Not for several days, Tom. She sometimes comes to see me and stops for a glass of my cordial but I haven’t seen her recently.’
‘She didn’t come home last night. Ma was worried and I promised I’d find her. If anyone mentions seeing her, would you send word?’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll tell the vicar. If you don’t find her let us know and we’ll rouse the village. Everyone likes Carrie, Tom. We should be sorry if anything happened to her.’
‘I expect she’s just dreaming and doesn’t even realize we’re worried about her.’
Tom took a shortcut through the lane that crossed between his and Thornton’s land. Carrie wouldn’t have crossed over, would she? He glanced across the flat fields at a windmill and some barns in the distance. He knew there was a cottage on the edge of Thornton’s land that had once been used by a farm manager but had been empty for a while, since before the old squire died. Shaking his head, he walked towards the hay barn. For a moment his stomach clenched as he recalled the day he’d sheltered from the rain with Roz. Then, as he saw something lying on the ground, his heart lurched and he ran towards what he could now see was a body.
Carrie’s body. She seemed to be lying in an odd position with her head on one side. She was dead. A wave of grief and pain swathed through him as he knelt by her side and touched her cheek. He could see at once that there was no hope and she felt like ice. He didn’t need to be told that she’d been dead for hours.
Tears trickled down his cheeks as he ran his hands over her face, stroking her hair back from her cheek. Poor little lost Carrie. What had happened to her? Tom looked round for the cause of her accident – if it had been an accident? What had made her fall and how had she come to be spread out this way – almost as if someone had placed her there and arranged her limbs.
He sat back on his heels, his brow furrowed. Her death wasn’t natural. It looked to him as if her neck had snapped but how? There was nothing to trip her, nothing for her to strike her head against.
