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Moorcroft The Possession

Page 17

by Sandra Callister

He looked at the arrogant face of his son. “And who gave you the right to do that?”

  “Someone has to take a stand around here, mother’s too soft and you’re too weak.”

  Emily gripped her husband’s arm to steady herself. There was a knock at the door and Mary entered carrying a tray, she placed it on the nearest table and left quickly.

  John helped his wife to a chair and sat her down. He carried the tray to the table beside her. “Here now, you sit here and calm yourself and have this cup of tea, I’ll sort this out.” He glared at his son. “I want to speak to you in my study.”

  Emily watched her husband leave the room, closely followed by Richard.

  In the study John turned to his son. “How dare you do this to your mother? How dare you go behind my back?”

  Richard stared at his father. “I’ve also told one of the tenants to vacate our property, I’m sick of their petty excuses for not paying their rent.”

  John sat down heavily in a chair. “Is that wise, we need the money?”

  “That’s the point father, they don’t pay enough money. It’s best to get rid of them and get more reliable people installed.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “I don’t know weeks, months.”

  John groaned. “This sort of thing should have been discussed between us, Richard, just what are you trying to do?”

  Richard paced the room running his hand through his hair. “I’m trying to sort out this mess. We have tenants not paying their rents and not taking care of our property, some of those farms are in a desperate condition, it can’t go on.”

  John put his head in his hands and muttered to himself.

  “I didn’t get that father, what did you say?”

  “I said it’s worse than I thought.”

  Richard laughed. “How much worse can it get?”

  John took the letter from his pocket and handed it to his son. “I think you had better read this.”

  Richard snatched the letter from his father’s hand. John watched his son’s face go red with rage and closed his eyes and waited for the torrent of verbal abuse. John stood to face his son. Richard screwed the letter in his hand and charged his father, pushing it in his face. “How could you let things get this bad? The bank wants this house, our home and you argue with me over sacking a few people.” He grabbed his father by his coat collar and stared him in the face. “At this moment I could kill you. All the times Charles and I mentioned money and you let us believe everything was alright.”

  He let go and his father staggered backwards and grabbed the back of a chair. He couldn’t breathe; his chest was tightening like a vice.

  Richard turned just as his father dropped to his knees. He shouted for his mother as he helped him to the chair. Emily threw the door open and rushed to her husband’s side, she looked into his frightened eyes, his skin was grey and clammy, and his lips were turning blue.

  He gasped for breath and looked upon the face he had loved for over fifty years. “Emily.” He whispered.

  She loosened his collar and lent forward. “Yes my darling.”

  “I’ve always loved you; there’s never been anyone else for me. I’m sorry.” He arched his back and gasped for breath and slumped back into the chair.

  Emily laid her head on his knee as the tears gently flowed across her cheeks. “I love you too my darling, until the day I die.”

  Still carrying the letter Richard ran from the house. He threw open the back door and ran across the yard, through the gates and down the lane. He ran until his lungs threatened to burst as he staggered onward. Finally he could go no further and he slumped against the nearest wall. With his back resting against the cold stones he looked up into the sky and screamed. “Why? Why have you done this to me? Damn you, damn you to hell.” He slithered down onto the ground and buried his head in his hands and wept.

  ####

  CHAPTER 12

  .

  Henry Davenport signed the death certificate, cause of death Heart Failure. Emily sat silent in the armchair, she was in shock. The undertakers had taken John’s body away and now the house was silent. Mary entered carrying a tray; she placed it on the side table, her eyes red from crying. Henry smiled and thanked her. He poured two cups of tea and placed one in Emily’s shaking hands.

  “Here, it has extra sugar, drink it up.”

  Emily took the cup and looked into the swirling liquid. She looked up at Henry. “What do I do now? I have a son and daughter that won’t speak to each other and now my darling husband has been taken from me. What am I to do Henry?”

  He shook his head and sat in the chair opposite. “Emily I have known you many years and you have always been the one to hold this family together, you are sensible and strong, you’ll pull through this.”

  “But I’m tired of always being the one in the middle, getting hassle from both sides. I’m getting old, I need peace and quiet. John and I had decided to take a holiday by the sea; it would have done us both good. Now he’s gone.” Once more she looked down into her cup.

  Richard entered the room and took in the scene. He nodded to Henry and approached his mother. Kneeling down at her side he held her hand in his. “I’m so sorry Mother, this is all my fault, I’m so sorry.”

  Henry took the cup from Emily’s hand, placed it on the tray and left the room. Emily looked at her son, the tears running down his face, his eyes puffy from crying and she felt sorry for him. Most of his adult life he had spent battling with his father, but she knew how much they loved each other.

  Richard placed his head in her lap. “I’m so sorry Mother.”

  Emily gently stroked his head and for the first time that evening let the tears flow.

  Henry Davenport entered the kitchen and found them all sat around the table.

  Mrs Shaw wiping the tears from her eyes was the first to speak. “How is Mrs Gardener, how is she coping?”

  “Not very well, as you can imagine. I have some pills here for her, I wonder if I could impose on you Mrs Shaw to see Mrs Gardener to her bed and administer these to her. They should help her sleep and I’ll be back in the morning.”

  “Don’t you worry yourself doctor, I’ll sit by her side all night, and our Mary can take care of the kitchen.”

  “That’s very kind of you Mrs Shaw.”

  He looked at Mr Howard. “Now, Mr Howard, I think Miss Sarah should be informed, have you any idea where she might be?”

  “Not really sir, she went off with Master Charles so we all assume that he has taken her to his parent’s house. I can get you their number.”

  “Thank you Mr Howard, I’ll be in the drawing room with the family.”

  Henry found Richard sitting on the settee next to his mother. He stood as the doctor entered. “Please sit down Richard, are you okay?”

  Richard nodded.

  Henry stood beside Emily. “I think Sarah should be informed, but how she will take it on top of losing her friend I don’t know, she’s always been delicate.”

  Richard tensed.

  “I’m sorry Richard that was insensitive of me.”

  Richard moved towards the door. “I’ll ring Sarah, she must be with Charles.”

  Emily moved forward in her seat. “No Richard, not you, I’ll do it.”

  Again Henry looked down on Emily’s sad and weary face. “Emily, I’ve asked Mr Howard to get me Charles’s number, I thought the news would be better coming from me.”

  “Thank you Henry, tell Charles I will ring him tomorrow to see how Sarah is. Now I really need to lie down.”

  Mrs Shaw helped Emily from the room and up the stairs.

  Henry looked down at Richard. “Your mother is going to rely on you over the next few weeks, can you cope with that?”

  Richard shook his head. “I don’t know, this on top of losing Victoria. Mother will never forgive me; father’s death is all my fault.”

  “No it wasn’t, your father had a serious heart condition, but he didn’t want the rest
of the family to know. He didn’t have long and he knew it. I think he also had money worries but he wouldn’t discuss them with me. Don’t blame yourself Richard it really wasn’t your fault.”

  “Thanks for that Henry, but will the rest of the family feel the same?”

  Charles took the news of John Gardener’s death badly; he had been very fond of the man. “How are Emily and Richard coping, should I come up to the house?”

  “That would be a great help, I’m sure they would appreciate it, but what about Sarah, will she cope okay?”

  “That may be a problem, Sarah is in a nursing home, she had a complete break down, and I don’t know if I should break the news to her yet, I will have to speak to her doctors, but tell Richard I’ll definitely be there.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about Sarah, but I can’t say I’m surprised. I’m going to the house tomorrow; do you want me to mention it to Emily?”

  “If you could Henry, I think it would be better coming from you.”

  “Okay I’ll do that and I’ll get Richard to ring you with the funeral details. Goodbye son, take care.”

  The funeral for John Gardener took place in the village church; it was full to capacity with standing room only at the back. Even though it was cold and raining the entire village had turned out to pay their respects to a kind and considerate gentleman. Richard and Charles supported Emily through the eulogy and the long walk to the graveside. Mr Howard stood straight backed holding a large umbrella over Mrs Shaw and Mary who were in floods of tears consoling each other. Only close friends, family and staff were invited back to the house to the cold buffet already prepared by Mrs Shaw and her daughter. The villagers were whispering amongst themselves, it had been noted that Sarah Gardener was not at her father’s funeral, only Emily and Charles knew the true circumstances of her absence. Richard in his grief for his beloved Victoria and now his father raged inside, he would never forgive Sarah for letting the family down, especially for their mother who needed her now more than ever. Charles had tried to explain to him, but he didn’t want to hear any excuses. The rift between Richard and Charles grew and it was with a sad heart that Charles said farewell to Emily with a promise to bring Sarah to see her as soon as she was well enough.

  Emily took to her bed fearing that she had caught a cold at the graveside. She refused to eat and it was only with persuasion from Mrs Shaw that she had anything at all. Richard had locked himself in his father’s study and bad mouthed anyone who spoke to him. Soon Mary refused to serve him and it was left to Mr Howard to carry his meals into the study. Mrs Shaw sat with Emily most nights but she too was getting on in years and was finding it hard to cope. In the end it was Mr Howard who sent for the doctor.

  Henry sat on the bed looking down on Emily; she was running a fever and had lost a lot of weight. Mrs Shaw stood at her bedside a look of concern on her face. “I did my best doctor, but she refused to eat, I’ve been trying her with soups but she leaves most of that too. I’m at the end of my tether; I just don’t know what else to do.” Mrs Shaw broke down in tears.

  “I’m very grateful to you Mrs Shaw, but I think the time has come for Mrs Gardener to go into hospital. Where is Richard?”

  Together they left the room and Mrs Shaw told him of the troubled man in the study.

  Richard was sat staring into the fire, a glass of whisky in his hand, when Henry entered the study. He didn’t even turn to see who it was.

  “Get out and leave me alone.”

  Henry sat in the chair opposite. “Richard, you must stop this drinking, it’s not helping anyone.”

  Richard looked at Henry with contempt. “Well it’s helping me so go and preach to someone who cares.”

  “Richard you must pull yourself together, the estate is falling apart; your father wouldn’t have wanted this.”

  Richard laughed. “We had a thriving business, but my father with his good nature and caring ways has ruined this estate. The bank wants to repossess, what can I do about that, tell me?”

  “Well for a start you can stop feeling sorry for yourself; other people are depending on you to sort this out. Surely you have assets you can sell to satisfy the bank?”

  Richard sat upright. “I suppose I could always sell some of the land.”

  “That’s better. Now go and get yourself cleaned up, you smell like a brewery and then go and look in on your mother, she isn’t well.”

  Richard’s head spun round and he stared at Henry. “Mother, what’s wrong with her?”

  “She has influenza, but she’s not responding to medication. I think she should be admitted to hospital. She needs you more than ever Richard, don’t let her down.”

  After much persuasion Emily was admitted to hospital and was put on a drip and antibiotics and monitored closely. Richard visited every day. He had been to the bank and had discovered that Moorcroft was in a worst state than first thought. It was decided that two of the farms would go up for auction with the money going straight to the bank to pay off the outstanding mortgages. Richard was also inundated with household bills, he paid what he could but was sure that more were to come. He had written several times to Sarah but the letters had been returned unopened and Charles refused to involve Sarah in any estate business. John Gardener had left the estate to his two children, but it was down to him to clean up the mess. His mother was recovering from the influenza but her heart was broken after her husband’s death and she remained unable to cope with everyday life. The doctors at the hospital said they could do no more for her and she was to return home within the next two days. Richard had to work hard to get the house in order.

  Mrs Shaw had decided to retire and left Mary to look after the kitchen. She assured Richard that Mary was more than capable of running the kitchen by herself and preparing meals for Richard, his mother and a handful of staff. He had persuaded her to sit with his mother for a few days after she returned to Moorcroft, covering all her expenses. The unused bedrooms were closed down and the maids paid off. A young woman from the village came in two mornings a week to clean and tidy the rooms, and the washing was sent to the laundry. Richard thought he had everything under control by the time his mother returned home. Emily walked about the house like a zombie, sometimes asking for Sarah or John. Mrs Shaw would walk through the gardens with her and would sit in the drawing room reading to her, but she never regained her happy composure. She would sometimes look up and ask about Charlotte, was she at home, would she sit and talk to her later. No one could make out who this Charlotte was and assumed it must have been someone from the hospital. It was obvious that she was missing Sarah’s company.

  As the weeks dragged on Richard became more aware of the debt Moorcroft was in. The sale of the farms had cleared his father’s overdraft and the second mortgage, but still left arrears on the first mortgage. Richard had no option but to sell off more of the farm land, the boundaries of Moorcroft were getting nearer and nearer to the house. Richard was relieved to know that the boy Ned had been reunited with his mother and sister and was now living in Coventry, only Eddie now lived above the stables. Richard still took Dancing Lady out each day but he knew that sooner or later she would have to go too.

  Richard would sit with his mother in the evenings. They would sit by the fire talking about Moorcroft. His mother would talk of events that had happened long before Richard was born, of his grandfather, killed in the bombing, how he used to run the mills with an iron rod. How his father and grandmother lived in fear of his temper tantrums. These tales helped Richard to understand his father better, but he remained worried that his mother continued to live in the past. When Mrs Shaw wasn’t around Emily would often wander round the house leaving doors and windows open, Richard found her one night walking across the yard in her bare feet with just her nightgown wrapped around her delicate thin body. When he had taken her back to bed she had asked for Charlotte, was she coming to talk to her. He had asked everyone in the house about this woman but no one knew who she was.

  Ove
r the past months Charlotte had watched how the household had changed since the death of Victoria. The girl Sarah was no longer in the way but she would have liked Charles to have stayed, he seemed a charming man and kept Richard on the straight and narrow. The weak blundering husband had died and now Richard’s mother had been taken ill. She would sit with the old lady each night and chat about old times and Richard. They became friends, with Emily looking forward to the young nurse and her nightly visits. Charlotte had tried speaking to Richard as he slept in the hope that he would turn to her for comfort but his mind was either busy with Moorcroft affairs or he was too drunk to appreciate her, but she would bide her time, soon he would turn to her for solace.

  Most nights Richard hardly slept and needed a drink before he went to bed. He would close his eyes feeling weary, but sleep would evade him. Some nights when he was in the state between being awake and sleeping he would hear someone calling his name, he often hoped it was Victoria, but he knew it couldn’t be, she was gone from his life forever. It was on nights such as these that he would put pen to paper and write to Sarah telling her of his contempt for her and his so called friend Charles Wesley.

  Charles’s father was happy to have his son back in the family business; he had a good brain and a good understanding of people and got along with all the workers. The circumstances of his return were sad with Sarah being taken into hospital, but Charles visited every day and was pleased with her progress. Unfortunately, she still didn’t know of her father’s death or of her mother’s illness. The doctors had advised Charles to tell her while she was still in the hospital in case she had a relapse, but against his mother’s advice he kept putting off telling her. Charles and his mother had visited Emily at Moorcroft in the hope of explaining Sarah’s absence, but they were both shocked at her appearance and state of mind. Charles knew he must take Sarah home before her mother deteriorated further. It was a bright sunny day when he walked Sarah round the grounds of the country hospital. She was more herself and so he decided to tell her of her father’s death and her mother’s illness. Sitting on a bench in the shade of a sycamore tree he broke the news. Sarah wouldn’t believe it at first, but looking into Charles’s eyes she realised it was the truth. He held her in his arms as she sobbed for the loss of her beloved father. They sat this way for many minutes, Charles fearful that the news would send Sarah back into a state of oblivion, Sarah trying to put her life in order in her mind, looking for a way to help her mother. After drying her eyes she looked up at the man she loved and smiled. “I know what I have to do now.” She stood up and marched back to her room, Charles holding her hand, confused. Back in her room she took her case from the top of her wardrobe and began to pack her things.

 

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