Jane Forxworthy

by Paul Kelly

  “Do you think that is the reason why Angus McPherson is like he is today, Jane?”

  Miss Foxworthy looked into Evie’s eyes.

  “I don’t know Evie . . I don’t know anythin’ anymore. Not like I used to.”

  “And Danny is Bella’s daughter, yes? The granddaughter of your sister Margaret?”

  The car felt like a tomb when Evie arrived at her latest conclusion. It was cold everywhere.

  “I haven’t been absolutely truthful with you Evie. I didn’t think it mattered when I first met you, but it does now. Danny was not just Bella’s daughter. She was her twin daughter.”

  “What? She had two . . twins . .but . .”

  Jane smiled and rubbed her face with the back of her hand.

  “Twins,” she confirmed. “Bella had twins . . One was Danny . . Danny was a very ill child, you know dear. She was always delicate from the moment she was born, you understand and Margaret’s illness, I’m sure, had a lot to do with that. It can come through from generation to generation, you know . . . and sometimes skips a generation too.”

  Clouds began to gather outside and it looked as if it might rain at any moment, but Evie was determined to stay where she was until she could get to the bottom of this riddle. Her mind was alert. She could not conclude now . . There was so much she had to know. So much she needed to know.

  “Jane . . . the other child. You said Bella had twin daughters . . another little girl?”

  Jane nodded in silence.

  “Was she an identical twin Jane?” she asked excitedly but Jane Foxworthy shook her head.

  “Is it?”

  This time Jane Foxworthy nodded with one profound drop of her head.

  “Yes, you’ve guessed Evie . . The other twin is Cynthia.”

  Evie gasped. This was information that she could never have guessed in a hundred years if Jane hadn’t given her the clues. So Bella was the mother of both Danny and Cynthia and Danny was born deaf and dumb. Who could the father be . . . and where was he now? . . . and was that the reason why Cynthia was as obtuse as she appeared? Margaret had a lot to answer for . . she thought.

  “That is why I put up with so much of her nonsense Evie. She is Margaret’s granddaughter, you see, whatever I like to think of her. She’s a big girl for her age. Always was, even as a child, whereas Danny was petite . . small and neat and never had the roundness that Cynthia had . . I mean, Cynthia was a woman when she was twelve . . . She had . . she had developed her breasts by then, if you understand me, Dear?”

  “But why were they separated as children . . Danny and Cynthia, I mean. Surely when Bella died, they should both have come home to the grandfather?”

  Jane shook her head slowly.

  “Bella was very ill herself after the births Evie. She didn’t want to give the children up and when I went through to Edinburgh to see her, she thought she was dying . . she wasn’t of course, but you couldn’t tell her that and she asked me to look after Cynthia for her.”

  “But why only Cynthia, Jane?”

  “Danny was a delicate child as I have said and Bella knew that I would find that a burden. She had hoped that I would offer to take the two of them, but I couldn’t Evie. I found it difficult enough to take the one . . but she was my niece after all and . . as we all knew that Bella was very ill . . . . I thought I should have told her I would take the two, but then I would have broken a promise if she did die and I could never do that. . . She didn’t want Angus to have either of her children either, although she knew the law would probably insist that he should.”

  “So she thought . . that as Cynthia seemed to be a normal child, there would be less strain in taking care of her, yes?”

  Jane Foxworthy sighed heavily and shrugged her shoulders.

  “I might have been better takin’ care of Danny, rather than that one . . She’s a handful now and I know things won’t get any better, but you know Evie . . for all that, I love that girl just as much as I would have done if she’d been my own and that’s a strange thing for me to say, as I don’t like children. Never have and never wanted any of my own.”

  Evie listened to all that Jane had to say, but there was something in her mind that didn’t sit right, and she wasn’t sure what it was, as she went over all the facts again that Jane had told her. It seemed so complicated. . . and yet . . .

  “Jane?”

  “Yes Evie?”

  “Jane . . didn’t anyone ask any questions when you came back with Cynthia to Glenfarach? After all, you were a maiden lady and even if you had explained that she was your niece . . wouldn’t they have thought that Cynthia must surely have been Bella’s child . . and why wouldn’t Bella want to look after her herself.?”

  Jane smiled in the particular way she always did when she had resolved some problem in her mind . . or when she had a good resolve for the lie that she wanted to make right.

  “Oh! No dear. . . You see, everyone thought, as I wanted them to think . . even Angus McPherson, that Cynthia was my step brother’s child . . Barney was my step brother, you see. My mother married twice and Barney left the village to go into hospital when he was sixteen.”

  Evie sat back in even more confusion. This hospitalisation was beginning to worry her.

  “And did Barney get married and have a child?” she asked, wondering how much more of the web of intrigue she was about to hear.

  “Oh! No dear. Barney could never have got married . . he was as mad as a hatter, but we never told anyone about that . . and we never ever told anyone about him not getting married. He wasn’t here, so we could say what we liked about him at that time. Who would know?”

  Evie scratched her head. Another mad one in the family, she thought . . or was he just eccentric too, like Jane Foxworthy’s sister ? ? ?

  “So Cynthia is Barney’s girl, as far as we are allowed to think and Danny is Bella’s child who now lives with her grandfather, Bella’s father . . but Cynthia is really Bella’s twin sister . . .am I right?”

  “Absolutely Dear . . but you mustn’t forget Margaret . . She was Bella’s mother.”

  “And the wife of Angus McPherson . . Now I understand, Jane. . . . So Danny has only lived here in the village for the past three years, since Bella died, yes?”

  Jane Foxworthy smiled her appreciation and unwrapped a boiled sweet from a paper bag that she produced from her coat pocket, the one with the lilac cuffs . . . and the crushed strawberry collar.

  “ Yes, that’s right Dear, but we mustn’t forget Albie and Cyril, mustn’t we now?” she asked as she wound the window down and threw the sweetie wrapper out into the lane.

  Evie drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes as she wished that she had taken the advice Wills had given her and left things as they were.

  “Albie and Cyril . . Now don’t tell me Jane., Let me guess. They are your other two step brothers, am I right.”

  “No dear . . but your very nearly right. Albie is my own brother and the brother of Margaret too, but Cyril was adopted . . well, sort of like . . His father was my step father, but Cyril wasn’t the son of my step mother . . if you know what I mean?”

  Evie closed her eyes again and began to think for a moment.

  “Oh! I see Jane . . Yes, I understand now . .well, I think I do . . and do you see Albie and Cyril now? Do they live near here?”

  “No Evie dear . . would you like a boiled sweetie?”

  “No thank you Jane. . . But about Albie and Cyril?”

  Jane shoved another boiled sweet into her mouth and disposed of the wrapper in the same way as she always did and pulled at her clothes from around her midriff to make herself more comfortable as she moved nearer to Evie and whispered in her ear.

  “Cyril is in prison dear, but that’s another thing we never talk about.”

  “Oh! . . No?” />
  “No Dear. Sometimes there are things in a family that are best not talked about, you know.”

  “You don’t say Jane . . You don’t say.”

  “Yes Dear . . It’s best that way for everyone.”

  “And Albie? Is he . . ?”

  Jane giggled and pushed the boiling from one side of her bulging mouth to the other and it made a clicking noise on her dentures.

  “Albie’s lovely Dear . . . absolutely lovely, but he won’t ever get married . . No . He’ll never do that. He likes the boys, you see.”

  Evie looked to the skies and coughed.

  “Well, it takes all kinds I suppose. I think I will have one of those sweeties now Jane, if you don’t mind. My throat is somewhat dry.”

  Jane rattled her paper bag in the air as she offered the sweets to Evie with a broad smile across her face.

  “You or I Dear?” she asked with a broad grin and her eyes narrowed cheerfully.

  “Sorry Jane . . What was that you said?”

  “YOU OR I,” she asked again . . but Evie was in total confusion by this time. “Oh! Well, I’ll do it then this time and you can do the next one,” Jane went on and before Evie could say another word, she puffed out her cheeks and blew the paper bag up before she burst it with her fist in the air.

  “Evie I’m ever so glad I am able to talk to you in the way I do. You see, the women in the village know everythin’ about everyone and when it comes to it, they don’t really know anythin’ at all. They make up what they want to think and it’s always bad. They even say that I’m eccentric you know and that’s why most of them won’t talk to me and those who do, patronise me all the time. I know that my sister Margaret was eccentric. She really was and the others . . well, they were a little strange, if you like . . except for Barney. Now he really was mad . . but I’m fine Evie. I’m the sane one of the family.”

  Evie sucked her boiled sweet ever so slowly and wished Wills was waiting for her at home.

  Chapter Twelve

  WILLS AND MARK ARRIVED HOME AT TEN PAST FOUR, but Evie had prepared a casserole of steak and the meal wasn’t spoiled by their late arrival.

  It had been a tiring day for both men and Evie could sense that in the lack of enthusiasm as they talked about the meeting and the battle of wits that went on, where there seemed to be little if any progress made in their efforts, however the meal was delicious and Mark left Brigadoon around 6.30 saying he was going to have a quiet evening in, after a good soak in his tub and then an early night.

  “Why don’t we have an early night too Darling,” Wills suggested as he yawned and stretched his hands above his head. “I think I’ll have a bath and then . . “

  “O.K. Darling. I’ll get the washing up done when you’re in the tub an’ if you’re a really good boy . . and I mean really, really good, I might come up an’ scrub your back for you.”

  Wills rolled his eyes and climbed the stairs. “Oh! and another thing, I can tell you all about our good neighbour, Angus McPherson, Laird of all he surveys . . he thinks . .”

  ***

  “ I thought I was due to have my back scrubbed, woman?” Wills complained affectionately as he settled down under the cool sheets of the large bed that took up nearly three quarters of the bedroom and Evie squeezed in beside him.

  “Move over and hold your hush. I thought I would have finished with the dishes earlier than I thought . . and I would have done if it hadn’t been for those telephone calls. Didn’t you hear them?”

  Wills moved his arm so that she could lie on his shoulder.

  “Never heard anything, but then I had suds and things in my ears, don’t forget. Who was it anyway?”

  “You tell me, Honey Pie . . Each time I lifted the phone, I couldn’t make any connection . . . not even a heavy breather?”

  “What? What do you mean? I don’t understand?”

  “Well since you went on your business trip to Dundee, I’ve had a few calls . . and none of them made any sense. Sometimes there was no-one on the other end of the line and at other times, I couldn’t recognise the voices . . or what they were talking about.. . Strange . . but then when I spoke to the Telephone Operator about us not having a Directory, she was a bit strange . . Not at all what you would imagine Telephone Operators to be like. They’re usually very polite and bending over backwards to help, aren’t they. After all they don’t pay for the damned things . . Do they?”

  Wills rubbed his eyes with his free arm.

  “I don’t know what the blazes you’re talking about Evie. What calls? What Operator and why didn’t we have a telephone directory?”

  Evie closed her eyes and bit her lower lip.

  “Never mind. Let’s change the subject. I’m bored with that one anyway and I don’t care anymore if the silly thing doesn’t work properly . . Now then, I wanted to tell you about Angus McPherson, didn’t I?”

  Wills nodded his head and grinned.

  “Interesting, is it?”

  “Well . . I think so and it might take me a long time to tell you, so I hope you don’t drop off to sleep in the middle of it . . Will you?”

  “Will I what?”

  “Oh! nothing. Just listen. . for as long as you can will you and then if you think your dropping off, will you shake my hand or something . .?”

  Wills never answered, but Evie started her story anyway as she settled herself snugly in Will’s strong arm and stroked his knee.

  “Well now, you see . . It’s like this. Are you sitting comfortably? Then we’ll begin.”

  “I haven’t ‘listened with mother’ on the radio for years Darling. Will this take long?”

  “Oh! You do know how to make me feel my age, Wills Slade, don’t you?” she remarked and he grinned as he kissed her cool cheek.

  “Go on then. Tell me all about it.”

  Evie started to tell him about her conversation with Jane Foxworthy and how Jane had told her about Angus McPherson. She was unravelling the relationships that had caused her so much confusion earlier on in Jane Foxworthy’s ‘Beetle’ when the telephone rang again. She waited for a few seconds hoping that Wills would answer it, but he was fast asleep. She glanced at the clock and it was 10.04 exactly as she lifted the receiver carefully and swept her hair back from her ear as Wills rolled over and took his arm back to his side. Evie did not speak . . but waited in silence and someone on the other end of the line replaced the receiver. . . She lay back and listened to the heavy breathing of her tired husband, but her mind was fertile with renewed curiosity. It could be a fault on the line . . It could be a wrong number . . It could be someone who wanted to speak to her, but changed his or her mind . . or it could be someone who did not want to speak to her, but who wanted to scare the living daylights out of her and if it was the latter . . then he or she was making a damned fine job of it. She pulled the sheets closer around her face and snuggled up to Wills but she found it difficult to drop off to sleep.

  At 2.34 the phone rang again and Evie glared at the insistent and demanding instrument, with doubt in her mind as to what she should do as Wills continued to snore through her dilemma. It rang again and he stirred and groaned, but then it stopped. Evie could feel her heart pounding. Should she have answered the thing? she asked herself . . Perhaps her mother was ill in London and was trying to get through to her in an emergency, she thought and stared at the telephone, wishing it to ring again if that was the case . . but afraid to move. She swallowed hard and slid her fingers into Wills’ chest, under his pyjama jacket. It felt warm and reassuring and she closed her eyes to try to sleep, but within a few minutes the phone rang again, to startle her anew from her feeling of short-lived security. She reached across and lifted the receiver and left it lying on the table as she lay with her ear close by, afraid to lift the thing to her head and a voice, deep and croaky slithered across the table top t
o reach her ears as she lay there in horror; her eyes widening by the second.

  “English bastard . . . Go home . . . We don’t want you here.” The voice said and then the dialling stopped as she stared at the ceiling, before she banged the receiver back into its cradle of silence and held her hand firmly across it.

  “What was that?” Wills asked as he awoke with a start and sat up in bed.

  “It’s alright Darling. Go back to sleep. I . . I just disturbed the telephone . . That’s all.”

  Wills snuggled back into his pillow, running his tongue across his lips.

  ‘ I think your investigations at D. & H. are going to cause us more trouble than we had bargained for, my Love,’ . . Evie thought as she closed her eyes and fell into a troubled sleep. . .

  Chapter Thirteen

  “WILL YOU BE HOME EARLY THIS EVENING, DARLING? or shall I leave dinner until I hear from you? Evie called out to Wills who was busily preoccupied stuffing fresh notes in a frantic whisper, into his already bulging briefcase.

  “Don’t trouble about dinner Darling. Book a table for two somewhere and we’ll eat out. I should be finished around seven o’clock.”

  “Oh! That will be nice Honey. I’ll just do that . Goodbye Sweetheart,” she called out as Wills drove off into the distance and she watched from the window as was her ritual, to see his car disappear, reappear again and then disappear for the second time through the hills.

  She took the Glenfarach telephone directory to look for a suitable hotel or restaurant for dinner that evening, but she had hardly began her search into the pages when the telephone rang. Evie lifted the receiver, slowly and apprehensively with the renewed feelings of fear that had been with her throughout the night. She cleared her throat and held the instrument to her ear and listened without saying a word. There was a sound of heavy breathing, followed by a ripple of raucous mad, laughter that spat at her through the phone.