by Gloria Cook
Miss Chiltern was unfazed. ‘I’m not foolish enough to keep money under my mattress as you were hoping, and neither am I foolish enough to face an intruder without this.’ She brought up her right hand from her side and aimed a small firearm at his chest.
‘You’re not going to use that,’ Tony sneered, too crazed to evaluate this new situation rationally. His hands outstretched he leapt towards her.
‘You think not?’ Miss Chiltern fired the gun. The bullet went clean through Tony’s heart and he tottered backwards. ‘You thought wrong.’
The surprise on Tony’s face lasted only as long as it took for him to fall to the floor. He was dead before Miss Chiltern stepped round his body to go downstairs to the telephone.
* * *
‘Are you sure you ought to go, darling?’ Tom’s anxious words echoed inside Jill’s head as she made the journey with Kate to Tregony, together on the back seat of Alan’s car.
‘I just can’t let Kate go without proper support, Tom,’ was her reply. ‘It’s very sweet of Alan to offer to take her there but he doesn’t know the full story behind the Viants. If Kate gets upset she’ll need someone.’
‘I agree with all that, Jill, but the Viant men are hard and unfeeling. I’m worried things might get out of hand and you’ll get hurt. And the sister-in-law is heavily pregnant. How are you going to feel about that? I wish Kate didn’t want to see her family. Why don’t you stay home and let my mother go instead? The Viants won’t get the better of her.’
‘And they won’t get the better of me. I’m not a pushover, darling,’ Jill stressed. ‘I’m sure things won’t prove to be too bad now the beastly mother’s out of the picture. And Kate’s chosen a weekday when all the Viant men should be at work. We’ll be fine.’
‘Even so, I’m coming with you.’
She had stopped Tom going upstairs to change. ‘You need to go to the market, Tom. And I don’t want you fussing over me as if I’m too weak to stand up to the lightest breeze. I don’t want to end up like Abbie, too nervous to even show my face outside the home. Kate is worried about her sister-in-law. It’s right that she goes to see her. She says Delia is a nice person, and the baby, after all, is Kate’s niece or nephew. She doesn’t feel she can shun an innocent baby. We’ll be arriving unexpectedly and Kate can see for herself the truth of how the land lies. We’ll only be staying for a short while. We’ll meet you in the Red Lion in town for lunch as arranged, I promise.’
Tom had still not been happy about the trip. Nor was Jill now. Facing a pregnant woman, who was carrying a baby that probably didn’t have much of a future ahead of it, wasn’t going to be easy. Kate was fidgeting and straining to peer ahead. All kinds of thoughts must be going through her mind. Alan drove carefully along the twisting roads. He kept up a cheerful chatter, trying to put Kate at ease. Jill had to smile. This was one good thing, the deepening friendship Kate had with Alan.
A black saloon closed in behind them, the driver honking its horn urgently. ‘He’s in a hurry,’ Jill said, looking out of the back window. A loud ringing started up from the saloon.
‘It’s the police,’ Kate frowned, an ominous feeling invading the pit of her stomach.
Alan pulled in at the next passing place and the Ford zoomed past. ‘Packed with detectives, by the look of it. Wonder what’s up.’
‘Can’t remember anything happening like it before,’ Kate said, then forgot about it. She had family business to contend with. Please God, let me be doing the right thing. She wanted this visit to be over and to be back at the farm. Then hopefully only to hear from anyone from Tregony occasionally, and not because they were after money. She would give Sidney a small amount of money; she didn’t want to run the risk of him suspecting she had their grandmother’s savings. All she wanted was to see how Delia was faring and how it might be possible to help her and the baby. She certainly wouldn’t be making this journey if not for them.
Alan smiled at her reflection in the rear view mirror, something he had done several times. She smiled back, trying to not look grim. It was really good going around with Alan. They had gone to the pictures and visited each other’s homes for meals, and to many in the village they were considered to be ‘walking out’. Kate wasn’t sure about that. Alan made it obvious he’d like to take things further but he didn’t pressurize her.
As they closed in on the village, she said, ‘It’s going to cause quite a stir, me getting out of a car.’ And being in the company of a striking-looking, well-dressed young man and a refined young woman. It would be nice to speak to some of her former neighbours but it would be easier if she wasn’t seen. That would be unlikely for there was usually someone about. The news of her return, that she had apparently ‘gone up in the world’, would spread quickly, and if Tony had a job nearby he’d almost certainly get to hear of it and trot home.
‘There isn’t a back lane or side road we could use to approach the house, is there, Kate?’ Alan said.
‘No, Alan,’ she replied, meeting his smiling eyes in the mirror. She couldn’t manage an answering smile. Her tummy was churning with the thought of entering her old home. Her mother might not be there but her presence would likely overshadow the place like a merciless spectre. ‘The house is up the hill, not far from the old almshouses.’
The Morris 8 provoked a long, interested stare from a young housewife with two small children. Not recognizing Kate, and with the children tearing ahead, the woman reluctantly went on after them. Alan stopped the car when Kate pointed out her old home. He jumped out to open the rear door for her and Jill. Next to the Viant home, outside the front doorstep, two old men were perched on stools, smoking pipes. It was a familiar sight to Kate. The men, a pair of bachelor brothers, pushed back their flat caps and screwed up their wrinkled, leathery faces at the newcomers to their patch. One of them took on a look of enlightenment as he studied Kate. ‘Mornin’ to ’ee, maid. ’Tes young Kate Viant, isn’t it?’
‘Hello Mr Penver.’ She gazed down on him, remembering the times the dear old soul and his brother had given her odd halfpennies. ‘Yes, it’s me.’
‘Well, you look a right treat, I must say. Don’t she, brother?’ The other Mr Penver eyed Kate up and down. ‘Ais. But what’re ’ee ’doin’ back here, young Kate? Betterfit you stayed away. Got new friends, I see. Glad of that for ’ee. But heed my advice, maid, and turn back round ’fore you’re seen.’
‘I second that.’ The first Mr Penver nodded his head. ‘You left a miserable place and ’tes no better since your mother went. You be wise and go straight back to where you come from.’
Now Kate was here she wasn’t afraid. As if a big dark cloud had lifted she realized her family had no power to hurt her any more. She had new friends, a new position, a new life, and she wasn’t going to allow anyone to spoil all that for her. She would tell Jonny this when she saw him, and that would be soon for he had just arrived back at his sister’s house in readiness for her wedding. ‘I shall be fine,’ she told both Mr Penvers.
Alan put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Yes, you needn’t worry. We’re here to make sure Kate will be fine.’
Delia had been making her father-in-law’s bed. Hearing a motor car stop outside she had gone to the window to view this rare occurrence. With the first excitement she’d had in ages she threw the bottom section up on its creaking sashes. ‘Kate! Hello. Come in, come in. I’ll be right down.’ She made a hasty check on her appearance in the tarnished wash-stand mirror. She was ash-pale and her complexion was spotty but otherwise she didn’t look too bad. Since Kate had written, Sidney, rubbing his greedy hands in glee, had not been so contentious. While staying wary of Tony, he had ordered the other two men to keep the house tidier, that they must all take their boots off outside and take turns fetching in the water. All to impress Kate. Life was a little easier for Delia, at least for the time being. She was able to keep the place more in order, as she liked to, so she would feel less ashamed of Kate seeing it. She wished Kate hadn’t brought these peop
le with her though. They must be posh to have such a nice motor car. At least Sidney had got hold of some extra tea so she would be able to offer them a decent drink.
Kate, Jill and Alan were waiting in the kitchen when Delia came through the door at the bottom of the stairs. Witnessing Delia’s nervousness, Kate was taken back to that bleak day in her empty grandmother’s cottage when she had been faced with Tom, Jonny and Abbie Rothwell. Her heart flew to Delia’s cause. It was awful to see her wan and hollow-eyed, her swollen belly stretching a faded smock that someone must have handed down to her. She looked ten years older than she should. Kate felt the urge to take her away from all this. She went to Delia with open hands.
Delia knew that if Kate had come alone she would have collapsed in her arms and sobbed out her despair, but she was embarrassed in front of the two strangers. She stayed stiff and allowed Kate to kiss her cheek, whispering, with a choke in her throat, ‘Thanks for coming.’ How she envied Kate her good clothes, her glowing health, her better circumstances.
‘This is Mrs Jill Harvey, who kindly gave me a home,’ Kate explained. ‘And this is Alan Killigrew, also from Hennaford, who kindly drove us here.’
‘We’re pleased to meet you, Mrs Viant,’ Jill said, full of pity for Delia. The sight of her almost grotesque bump tore at her. By the evidence all around the poor child inside her belly had little to look forward to. How was it fair that children were born into such harsh circumstances while she and Tom had lost their child, who would never have known a day without love and with excellent prospects ahead of it?
‘Well, s-sit down everyone. Or w-would you like to go through to the front room?’ Delia stammered.
‘We’ll be fine here,’ Kate smiled, hoping to lessen Delia’s discomfiture. She saw her mother’s chair and flicked her eyes away. The crochet blanket had gone and a different patch cushion was placed there, but Biddy Viant’s throne filled her with distaste. Next she faced the spot where Sidney had said she had plunged to her death. She had a terrible picture of that in her mind, just as she did the last haunting image of her dead grandmother. The double dread made her shudder. Alan was behind her and she shot her head round to him. He would know that the old bleakness was on her again. She had told no one but him about her grandmother’s last moments. He rubbed reassuring knuckles on her arm. Kate smiled at him to convey she wouldn’t let the haunting go on affecting her. Jill noticed. She had seen Alan make this gesture before and wondered again what it was he shared with Kate.
‘We’ve brought some things from the farm, Mrs Viant,’ Jill said, placing a wicker basket on the table. ‘That Kate thought you’d like.’
‘You take a look, Delia,’ Kate said. ‘While I put the kettle on.’
Feeling it would be better to leave the women alone, Alan excused himself to take a smoke in the back garden.
‘Is he your young man, Kate?’ Delia paused from spreading the table with what to her was pure luxury; enough bacon to last a week, eggs, butter, cream and jars and bottles of preserves. There was a batch of scones and even a cake.
Jill glanced at Kate to see what the answer would be.
Kate took cups and saucers, all odd ones, off the dresser shelf. ‘Yes, I suppose he is.’ The admission rolled off her tongue, surprising her. She’d think it through more thoroughly in private moments.
Jill was utterly pleased. Alan suited Kate perfectly. Mrs Em and Perry would be pleased too. Although Tom considered Kate still too young for romantic attachments, they seemed eager for Kate to become closer to Alan.
‘He seems very nice,’ Delia said. ‘Good-looking too. I’m glad you’ve done well for yourself, Kate, and that you’re out of here. Bring some plates and knives. It’s not the afternoon but we can have a proper cream tea.’ She was relishing the promised taste of the treat on her tongue.
‘How about you, Delia?’ Kate asked, placing the teapot on the table. ‘How are you really? Don’t be afraid to say in front of Jill. She’s been a tremendous help to me, as you can see. We’re here to help you if you’ll allow us to.’
‘Things could be worse, I suppose,’ she shrugged. ‘I must accept my lot. We all have to.’ She would keep her pride in front of Jill Harvey. At least the extra food and the hope that more would be provided in the future would ease the financial strain. Going red in the face, she went on, ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, Kate, did you bring something towards your mother’s funeral? Sidney keeps going on about it.’ He would be as teasy as hell if Kate hadn’t and he would take it out on her.
Kate took an envelope out of her handbag. ‘I’ve managed to save seven pounds and five shillings. You’re welcome to it, for your sake, Delia. There’s also two pounds inside for you. Put it somewhere safe.’
Breaking from spooning raspberry jam onto halved scones, Delia expelled a mighty sigh of relief. ‘I can’t thank you enough. The undertaker’s been hounding us. He said we could pay ten shillings a week. This will show him we’re in good faith to clear the bill. You’re a good girl, Kate.’ She slipped the two pounds into her apron pocket to secrete away the minute Kate left.
‘I wish I could do more for you, Delia.’ Kate felt blood swirl about her face in guilt that she had so much more in savings, but then decided that was silly. She could secretly feed Delia a little money at a time. ‘I’m knitting something for the baby. Have you got much put by?’
‘A few odds and ends.’ Delia was off-hand. She didn’t want to talk about the baby. God forgive her, she thought of it only as an unwanted creature inside her. It would be an effort to love it.
Jill had hardly been able to take her eyes off the woman’s protruding stomach. With an ache in her heart, she asked, ‘What do you need? For the baby?’
Delia saw the terrible sadness lurking behind Jill’s eyes. ‘Just about everything. Um, have you got any children, Mrs Harvey?’
‘No. I lost a baby a few months ago. If not for Kate I would have died.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. Ironic, isn’t it?’
‘What is?’ Jill asked.
Delia didn’t get the chance to explain. The village constable burst in through the back door, making her shriek in alarm. ‘Here, Bert Blewett! What do you think you’re upon? Have you never heard of knocking?’
‘What is it?’ Kate demanded. Something must be wrong for the usually mild-mannered, burly policeman to enter this way. ‘Has there been an accident?’ Alan came inside to see if there was trouble, going straight to Kate.
For a dark moment Delia hoped it was Sidney that PC Blewett had come about, that he’d been killed in an accident. It would be wonderful to be free of the brute, free not to have any more children. She’d certainly not marry again. She could just about bear her life then.
‘There’s been no accident.’ PC Blewett took off his helmet, puffing from the harried bicycle ride he’d had. ‘But it’s terrible news for you just the same.’ He pulled himself up straight and became officious. ‘I’m sorry to have to inform you that your brother-in-law – and your brother, Miss Viant – Anthony Viant is dead. He was shot in self-defence while perpetrating a burglary. Shot by old Miss Chiltern. He had forced an entry into her cottage and put Miss Chiltern, who was ill at home, in fear of her life. She’s in shock, the doctor’s been sent for – although, to his mind, the old lady seemed to have a strong grip on herself. The detectives are at the cottage. I’ve been sent to tell you not to go near Anthony Viant’s bedroom or to touch any of his things. You’ll be asked to make a statement later, on what time he left the house and if you had noticed anything unusual about his behaviour. Where are your father-in-law and husband working today? They need to be sent for.’
During the constable’s speech Kate had gone to Delia, taking the spreading knife from her frozen hand. Delia had turned rigid. Now she was shaking. She let out a terrible howl and Kate felt her folding in a faint. ‘Alan, help me to get her to a chair! ’
Together he and Kate eased her backwards to the chair Jill brought up behind her. ‘Don’t just s
tand there,’ Jill barked at the constable. ‘Get some water.’
‘In the bucket by the door!’ Kate snapped at him. ‘You could have at least got her to sit down first before coming out with the news.’ Tony was dead, killed as a criminal. Grief mixed with the shame of what it meant to her family name. She cradled Delia round the shoulders while Jill wet her handkerchief in the water, fetched in the tin mug PC Blewett had found on the draining board, and dabbed at Delia’s burning cheeks. She put the mug to her lips. ‘Delia, try to sip some water.’
‘It’ll be all right, Delia,’ Kate crooned. ‘We’ll look after you.’
Alan asked, ‘Do you think she needs the doctor?’ He shot a glare at the constable. ‘It was a terrible shock for a pregnant woman.’
‘I’m sorry, honest I am,’ PC Blewett blustered. ‘Didn’t know what I was thinking of. Do you want me to help you get her upstairs?’
‘We’ll see,’ Kate said, as Delia stirred and moaned.
‘Look, I’m sorry, but I have a job to do. Kate, do you know where your father and brother are?’
She trawled through the family routine. ‘Um, it’s Wednesday… yes, they’ll be delivering at St Mawes.’
‘Right. I’ll get them home. I’ll run along then. Sorry about Mrs Viant. I’ll apologize to her prop’ly later.’ Putting on his helmet, he left.
The door was opened again at once and in came the neighbours, Mrs Peam and both Mr Penvers. ‘We heard the maid scream,’ Mrs Peam said, avidly searching faces. ‘Has something bad happened? Is it Sidney?’
‘No,’ Kate replied. ‘It’s Tony who’s dead. You might as well know the truth. It will get around quickly enough. He was shot. By Miss Chiltern. He was trying to rob her.’
Before more questions were uttered, Delia came to with a sickening wail. She clung to Kate in a panic, clutching at her cardigan. ‘I can’t stand it! I don’t want to stay here! I’ll go mad. I’m scared. I wish I was dead. I don’t want to go on. I don’t want this baby. I just want to die.’ She broke down in anguished sobs.
