by Linda Sole
What ought he to do? His mother was waiting for news. She grumbled about Carrie but she would be devastated by her death, just as Tom was himself. He looked about him but knew there was no one to help. Everyone would be seeing to the cows or the morning chores. He supposed he ought to fetch a constable and let him see how she was lying because there was something wrong – something suspicious about it – but he couldn’t go and leave her here now he’d found her. She was dead. Nothing was going to change that so he might as well take her home to her mother.
Tom wiped the tears from his cheek. He got to his feet, bent down and lifted Carrie into her arms. He was choking with grief and regret, blaming himself for not watching out for her more. He would take Carrie home and fetch the doctor, then he’d go into Wisbech and report that his sister had had an accident of some sort. The last thing he wanted was people asking questions and upsetting everyone. But he wouldn’t forget what he’d seen and he’d find out what had happened somehow. If he discovered that Carrie’s death wasn’t an accident he would thrash the man who’d murdered her.
It had to be a man, perhaps the father of her child if, as he’d begun to suspect, Carrie had lied to them about the old squire raping her.
Ellen ran to meet Tom as he walked into the yard carrying his sister’s body. She saw the way Carrie’s head was flopping and screamed at him.
‘Where did you find her?’
‘She was lying near the hay barn, Ma. She must have fallen or something. I don’t know how it could have happened. There’s blood in the back of her hair but when I lifted her there was none on the grass.’
‘What are you saying?’ Ellen’s face was grey with shock and fear. ‘You mean she was put there? Was she murdered? Tom, who killed her? Some devil has hurt our Carrie.’
‘I’ll fetch the doctor and tell him Carrie’s had an accident. We’ve got enough to cope with as it is without having the law out here nosing about.’
‘I think she may have lied about the old squire,’ Ellen said. ‘I reckon she’s been seeing someone else and it’s him that done this to her.’
‘Well, it’s our fault for letting her wander off,’ Tom countered. ‘If I find out who did this, I’ll make him pay. I promise you he won’t get away with this, Ma.’
Mary Jane had come out of the dairy. She followed them into the kitchen, watching as Tom placed his sister’s body gently on the old sofa.
‘What’s wrong with her?’
‘She’s dead,’ Ellen said, tears were running down her cheeks. ‘Our Carrie’s dead, lass. Tom found her up by the hay barn.’
‘She wasn’t there when I walked back from my mother’s last night. I went right past it and I’d have seen her.’
‘Tom thinks she was put there.’
‘You mean . . . she was murdered?’ Mary Jane’s face went white. ‘No . . . she was all right when I saw her earlier . . .’
‘I thought you said she wasn’t near the hay barn?’ Tom’s gaze fixed on her face, his tone harsh. ‘When did you see her?’
‘I saw her when I left here yesterday. I wondered where she was going so I followed her . . . she went into the empty cottage on the Thornton estate.’ Mary Jane swallowed hard. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Tom. I didn’t know he was going to . . .’
‘Who?’ Tom moved towards her, his expression thunderous. ‘What are you trying to say? Was she with someone – a man?’
‘There was a horse tied to the post outside.’ Mary Jane swallowed hard. ‘I don’t know whose it was, Tom. I just saw her go into the cottage and I left. I wanted to see my ma.’
‘Why the hell didn’t you tell us last night?’ He took her by the shoulders and shook her. ‘I might have found her alive.’
‘Let go. You’re hurting me.’
‘Stop that, Tom. It isn’t Mary Jane’s fault.’
Tom let her go abruptly and she stumbled forward but righted herself by grabbing the back of a chair, looking at him sullenly.
‘How was I to know she was in danger?’
‘You couldn’t have known but it’s a pity you didn’t tell us, lass.’ Ellen looked at Tom. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To fetch the doctor and then to Wisbech. After that I’m going to Thornton’s cottage. If that’s where she was killed I might find evidence there . . .’
‘Dick died because he went off in a temper the time Carrie was attacked. Think what you’re doing, Tom.’
Tom glared at his mother. ‘You don’t want him punished?’
‘Aye, I do – but do it the right way. Let the doctor give his opinion and then go to the law. If he killed her he should hang but I don’t want you hung for murder. We can’t manage the farm without you.’
Tom muttered beneath his breath and went out, leaving Mary Jane and Ellen staring at each other in silence.
‘He won’t do anything daft, will he?’
‘Tom has more sense than his brother,’ Ellen said. ‘Sit down, lass. You look all in.’
‘I feel shaky,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘If you don’t mind I’ll go upstairs and change the sheets on Carrie’s bed. You’ll want her laid out properly once the doctor has been.’
‘Why don’t you have a lie down yourself afterwards? You’re as white as a sheet, lass.’
‘I feel a bit odd,’ Mary Jane said and then gave a little shriek and clutched at her belly. ‘It hurts, Ellen. It’s sharp like my courses only worse.’ Her eyes widened in horror. ‘I’m bleeding. I can feel it running down my leg.’
‘Go up and lie on your bed.’ Ellen looked at her sadly. ‘It sounds like a miscarriage. I’ve had three in my time. The shock of seeing Carrie like that – and Tom shouting the way he did. He didn’t know, lass. He’d have been more careful if he had.’
‘Tom doesn’t care,’ Mary Jane said. ‘He married me because he needed a strong girl to work in the yard. He won’t care that I’ve lost the baby.’
‘You don’t know that yet. Lie down and it might be all right. The doctor can take a look at you when he’s done with Carrie.’
Mary Jane left the kitchen without looking at her. She’d been so happy tending Carrie’s baby and thinking of her own child but now it was all spoiled. She wished she’d never met Tom that morning in the meadow. If he hadn’t taken her to the dance she would’ve asked someone else – someone who wanted her for herself and not as a scullery maid.
‘I’m sorry, Mary Jane,’ Tom said as he entered the bedchamber they shared and found her curled up in bed. She’d been crying and her eyes were red. ‘I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that, lass. I was upset over Carrie but it wasn’t your fault. According to the doctor, she was already dead by the time I came in for my supper last night. He can’t be exact but he thinks probably yesterday afternoon.’
‘He must have killed her when she went there,’ Mary Jane said but didn’t look at him. ‘I’ve lost the baby, Tom. The doctor took him away. We would’ve had a son if . . .’ She choked on a sob. ‘Our little boy but he wasn’t finished . . . he was only a little bit of a baby.’
Tom sat on the edge of the bed and reached for her hand. ‘Please don’t cry, Mary Jane. I’m more sorry than I know how to say. I’ve been neglecting you recently. If I’d noticed I would’ve got a lad to help with the milking. Forgive me for not realizing you weren’t right.’ A wave of guilt went over him because if he’d spent less time thinking of Roz he’d have noticed she was carrying his child.
‘Ma said I should’ve told you sooner, but I wasn’t sure. Besides, I thought I could work for a bit yet. Ma always works until the last few weeks.’
‘You’re not your ma and you had a shock – and then I shook you. If I’d known . . .’ He put a hand to his eyes. ‘I feel awful, Mary, lass. As if I killed him . . .’
‘It wasn’t your fault. The doctor said it could’ve happened even if I’d sat around and done nothing. He says it’s like that sometimes. The babe – he wasn’t right or something.’ She sat up, wiping her cheeks with her fingers. ‘What did he sa
y about Carrie?’
‘He thinks she might have hit her head on something and the force of the blow broke her neck. It would’ve been instant. He says she didn’t suffer – but he thinks someone must have knocked her down.’
‘I’d know that horse again if I saw it, Tom. It had a white bit on its left back leg.’
‘A lot of horses have white bits on their hocks,’ Tom said. ‘The doctor says he’s going to have the body examined by the coroner and then perhaps we’ll know if it was murder or an accident.’
‘Will the constable come and ask us questions?’
‘Yes, I expect so. They may blame me for bringing her home instead of fetching someone to her – but I couldn’t leave her there.’
‘No, of course you couldn’t, Tom.’ Mary Jane reached for his hand and held it. ‘Will you go to the cottage?’
‘I went as soon as the doctor had been but there was nothing to see. The cottage is still furnished and it has been used recently, because the dust covers are off and someone had a fire there, but not as recent as yesterday.’
‘Do you think that’s where Carrie used to go? She often came home dry when it’d been raining.’
‘We shall never be certain. I ought to have followed her like you did, Mary Jane. We wouldn’t even have known she met someone at Thornton’s cottage if it wasn’t for you. At least I have something to go on.’
‘You won’t do what Dick did? I don’t want you to die too.’
‘I was angry enough to do it when I found her, but I’ve calmed down now. I don’t know who was at the cottage, Mary, lass. If I ever discover the truth I might thrash him, but it would be best left to the law.’
‘There’s no proof, is there? You looked in the cottage but didn’t see anything.’
‘It didn’t look as if there was a fight and I couldn’t see any blood, but she didn’t bleed much. A few drops could easily have been wiped up when he moved her – if that’s what happened. We can’t be sure it happened there. Someone might’ve attacked her on her way home.’
‘Yes, perhaps a stranger. She could’ve have been killed in the struggle and left where she lay.’
‘It didn’t look that way. Her legs had been covered so that she was decent, and her head was turned to one side. She looked odd, unnatural, as if she’d been put there – but respectfully.’
‘Perhaps whoever killed her liked her. He might not have meant to do it, Tom. An accident . . .’
‘Yes, perhaps. Carrie was a nuisance at times. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. If she was bothering him and he thought . . .’ Tom shook his head. ‘We can’t know. Besides, I don’t want you to lie here and worry about it, Mary Jane. You have to get well and strong again.’
‘So that I can help your ma with the chores?’
‘I know that’s how it seems, lass, but it wasn’t what I meant. I’m sorry if I’ve not treated you fair. I was going to get a lad in to help with the milking. I’ll do it now rather than later. Once you feel like it you can look after Carrie’s baby – unless that would upset you?’
‘No, of course it wouldn’t. I love Milly. She’s beautiful and now there’s no baby . . .’ Mary Jane caught her breath. ‘I’ll soon be on my feet again. I can help with the baby and the cooking, but not the heavier chores for the moment.’
‘Don’t worry about them. We’ve done most of the fieldwork until spring. It’s just hedging and maintenance, and a new shed for the extra stock I’ll be buying, but they’ll mostly be bullocks, a few cows – and some pigs.’
‘I don’t mind the milking when I’m strong enough. It’s the butter churning that tires me.’
‘We’ll just make enough for ourselves,’ Tom said. ‘Once I’ve got things running smoothly I’ll have more men and a girl to help in the house. It won’t be hard work for ever, Mary Jane. I’ve got plans for the future. When there’s more money we’ll be taking a holiday at the sea every year, and not just Hunstanton either.’
Mary Jane smiled. ‘I thought you didn’t care about me, Tom. I don’t mind the work if I know you love me.’
‘I’m not much good with words,’ he said and leaned down to kiss her on the mouth. ‘I’m truly sorry for all this and I’ll make it up to you when I can.’
‘If I can help Ellen more in the house and not bother with so much in the yard, she will have things a bit easier. Your father is a tyrant, Tom. He pinches her when she tries to help him and throws things over her. He isn’t as bad with me or you, but I’m sure he could use the commode. He makes out he’s worse than he is because I’ve seen him sitting on the edge of the bed when he doesn’t know I’m around.’
‘She didn’t tell me how bad he was getting,’ Tom said and frowned. ‘I’ll fetch the doctor to him. If he’s able to get out of bed, it would save the both of you fetching and carrying for him.’
Roz dismounted and gave the reins to the groom, lifting the skirt of her riding habit as she walked into the house. Julia was sitting in her favourite parlour, some sewing on her lap. She put it aside and stood up to greet Roz as she entered.
‘I was just wishing you would visit me. I didn’t hear the carriage?’
‘I rode over. Are you making baby clothes?’
‘Yes. I was smocking this gown. Doctor Hughes confirmed my hopes when he visited this morning. I am carrying Philip’s child. I’m so lucky . . .’ Julia’s smile faded. ‘Have you heard the terrible news, Roz? Carrie Blake was found with her neck broken yesterday morning.’
‘No, I hadn’t heard.’ Roz sank down into the chair opposite. ‘That is terrible. Did she have an accident?’
‘I was told that she has been taken away to have a post mortem – I think that’s what Doctor Hughes called it, but I may have it wrong. Special medical people are examining the body to find out how she died, apparently.’
‘Surely they don’t think it could be murder?’
‘Murder?’ Julia looked upset. ‘Yes, I suppose that’s what he must’ve meant. I didn’t realize until you said – but they wouldn’t go to all that trouble if they didn’t think it was suspicious.’
‘Where was she found?’
‘Near the Blakes’ hay barn, I think. Yes, I’m sure that’s what I was told. Doctor Hughes told me he had been called to the farm – but I asked him because my housekeeper had heard rumours.’ Julia frowned. ‘I know Dick Blake killed your father but you let his brother win that archery prize for her, didn’t you? Philip said you had done it deliberately.’
‘Yes. I gave Carrie some clothes I didn’t wear. I saw her daughter. She called her Milly.’
‘Oh, I didn’t realize you knew her. Was she really an idiot?’
‘No, just dreamy and slow I would say.’ Roz looked down at her hands. ‘She was proud of her baby and herself.’
‘That sounds a little odd – if she was raped. If it happened to me I don’t think I could bear to look at the child.’
‘Carrie wanted her baby. I’m not sure she was raped. I think she knew what she was doing. She didn’t understand the trouble she caused.’ She couldn’t tell Julia the whole truth now. It would hurt her too much.
Julia looked thoughtful. ‘Why would anyone want to kill a girl like that do you suppose?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Roz said. Surely Philip wouldn’t kill the girl. He would have forgotten all about Carrie in pursuit of his new mistress. Roz was fairly certain her brother had been seeing Madeline but of course she had no proof. ‘Perhaps they’ll discover that it was just an accident.’
‘Yes, perhaps they will,’ Julia agreed. ‘They may not be able to prove anything. Doctor Hughes told me it is not an exact science, just informed guesswork that sometimes helps to decide how someone died.’
‘We may never know the truth,’ Roz said. ‘May I see your work?’ She took the garment from Julia and exclaimed over the stitching. ‘Very pretty. I’m no good at smocking but this is lovely, Julia.’
The talk turned to babies and Julia invited her to see the nursery, which had been
made ready for the baby. There were piles of new blankets, clothes and trinkets.
‘I think it’s bad luck to get all this stuff too soon,’ Julia said. ‘Philip insisted and sent for most of it from an expensive shop in Cambridge. It is sweet of him, but we can’t be sure I shall have a son.’
‘It doesn’t matter, you can keep the blue things for another time and use just white. I prefer white for small babies anyway.’
‘Yes, I do too.’ Julia smiled. ‘You will stop for luncheon, Roz?’
‘Yes, thank you. Where is Philip?’
‘I think he went to see someone on business. He says he wants to sell a piece of land and a cottage.’
‘I thought he wanted to buy more land?’
‘Yes, he does – but this land isn’t much good, apparently. He wants John Blake’s land, but I can’t see the family accepting an offer from us – can you?’
‘I hope he has the decency to wait for a while,’ Roz said. ‘They won’t wish to deal with anything like that for a few months at least.’
‘No, of course not. It is very sad, even if she wasn’t quite right in the head.’
Roz didn’t answer. Carrie knew enough to make trouble for Philip if she wanted – but perhaps she was worrying for nothing.
Her death might have been an accident – or perhaps she’d had an affair with another man and he’d killed her because she was a nuisance. Or was Roz simply trying to hide from a truth she feared?
‘Can you arrange the sale quietly?’ Philip asked his lawyer. ‘I would rather not let people know I’m selling. It isn’t that I’m short of money, you understand. I want to buy better land and the cottage and that bit near the lane is right on the edge of my estate. I shan’t miss it, because it’s only good for sheep or a plot to keep chickens and pigs on. What I want is that wild meadow and the stream.’
‘That belongs to Tom Blake and I know he won’t sell.’
‘John Blake wouldn’t sell to me, but he might sell to you. He’s ill and he might feel he could use the money to make his last years more comfortable. You need not say where the offer comes from.’
