Lonely Girl

by Cox, Josephine

Over the years a procession of determined neighbours had offered handsome money for the land and property, but always they were disappointed. John Tanner felt duty-bound to honour his father’s wishes that the land and everything on it should be the inheritance of the next generation.

  He made it known that he would never sell up, not at any price, even if the money offered meant that he would never have to work another day in his life, and eventually, all would-be buyers got the message.

  Tanner’s Farm had been handed down through many generations of Tanners, but only young John had had the bigger vision to make it into one of the most valuable and productive holdings in the region.

  Through years of dedication and with little help, he had struggled hard to achieve his goal. He brought the rough, non-productive areas into pasture; he nurtured and culled the woodland to create sturdy new growth; and he used the felled trees to improve the layout and size of the farmhouse and buildings. He cleared the wider land of many years’ wild growth.

  He had dug out a channel and directed the precious natural spring with which his land was blessed into a cascade that flowed into the newly renovated lake, so fixing the irrigation of the pastures and the wide fields of corn that in summer made giant waves in the sunshine whenever gentle winds blew across the land.

  John Tanner had considered that beautiful lake to be one of his greatest achievements. And, more importantly, he had regarded it as a fitting memorial to his beloved parents.

  As with his father, the land and everything on it had been dearly loved by John, but his greatest love had been for the horses. He’d bred foals from his own peerless mares, and also brought in new young stock and nurtured them to maturity.

  His young horses were tirelessly trained and he’d proudly rode or displayed them at the many shows and equestrian events hereabouts, where they won cups and ribbons of the highest recognition. John Tanner’s reputation as a knowledgeable breeder and trainer of horses was second to none in the county.

  When it was time for them to be sold on, he would deal only with buyers who wanted the animals for working the fields, for personal riding, or to breed from with the best bloodstock.

  He would never sell to anyone who sought to obtain the horses for immediate resale into dangerous work, or for random and continuous breeding until a once-fine mare was worn down, eventually to be discarded.

  John was also extra careful, after it had been made known to him, to avoid certain quarters in which young horses were dying in fear and agony when untrained men were castrating them rather than paying out for registered and responsible vets.

  Anyone who had experience of horses and farming recognised John Tanner as a decent man with a proper respect for his animals. His naturally suspicious attitude where the animals were concerned meant that hard-nosed and unscrupulous dealers of ill repute knew to keep their distance, while those of his own kind respected and admired his straightforward sense of duty towards his stock, following his father’s high standards and much-valued traditions.

  As Molly Tanner walked away from the spent carcass that was her husband, she was made to recall just how dedicated a man he had been. She had witnessed his heavy toiling, often from first light to the setting of the sun. Day after day, winter or summer, he was out in all weathers. He worked tirelessly on the farmland, he improved the many pathways around the farm, and he would be forever tending the animals. He also maintained the farmhouse and numerous outbuildings, most of which he had inherited, with the exception of the great hay barn, which was a more recent addition.

  The weight of responsibility for the farm was heavy on his shoulders, but rain, heat and wild storms never stopped him. If it was freezing, or wet, or blowing a gale, he would tackle some inside task, and when the fine weather came, he returned to outside work. He always managed to complete every job to the highest standards, and what he did not know how to do he soon learned to perfection.

  Thinking on the past and the man she had married, Molly Tanner grudgingly admitted something to herself for the first time. In John Tanner she had caught a good and faithful man, whose lot in life was to toil and care for his family. He never shirked his responsibilities, which he executed with love and good heart, even when he was bowed down with work and worries.

  To Molly’s irritation her mind was haunted with images of that strong, determined man, who had emerged from his father’s shadow to work from dawn to dusk caring and providing for his family, and tending to his many duties as best he could. And for what?

  Even though she had no love for him, she had seen him as a man of stature, with opinions and dreams. Like any other human being he had laughed and cried, and unlike lesser men he had worked with a glad heart. Now that big, capable man was spent of life. A nothing. A no one … lying still and crumpled on the ground like an old sock thrown aside.

  She was the one who had brought him to this sorry state. She alone had ended his life with a heavy blow to the back of his head, yet what she felt was not compassion or love or regret. It was nothing but contempt, and a pleasing sense of her own achievement.

  In that defining moment when she had glanced down on him, without tenderness or conscience, she had found something to make her smile.

  She smiled again now. John Tanner, the big strong, capable man! It seems you’re just as vulnerable as the rest of us, she thought. Whoever would have guessed that you would end up the loser, while I turned out to be the winner? And now that you’ve gone to your Maker I must consult the best lawyer I can find to make sure that everything of value will come me, and not to the next generation of Tanners.

  Her smile crumpled into a dark frown. If you thought for one minute I would step aside and see your daughter snatch what is mine by rights, you don’t know me, she thought.

  She chuckled then at her good fortune. You were never smart enough for me, John Tanner! I knew what I was doing when I married you. I saw what you had, and I wanted it. And now I shall have it all … every last piece! Oh, yes, thanks to you and your hard work and dedication, Molly Tanner has just become a very wealthy woman.

  She listed it all in her mind: the house and everything in it; the valuable farm machinery; the animals and land; money in the bank; every little item. The farmhouse itself was worth a small fortune, but that would be the last to go. She would need somewhere to live while being kept busy counting her many belongings, and keeping a check on just how rich she truly was.

  Approaching the big doors, she addressed her dead husband in her mind. As for you and your father’s grand ideas of passing wealth onto the next generation, that’s all finished now. Nothing and no one stands in my way – not your father’s wishes, and especially not the girl. What was then yours, is now mine, John Tanner! D’you hear me?

  Confident of claiming her husband’s worldly goods, she felt ten feet tall. Clever girl, Molly, she told herself. You really are a far-sighted and devious woman. Moreover, with lover-boy covering your back you can’t go wrong. Like putty in your hands, he is – the sad, deluded fool.

  While she greedily relished her new-found wealth and well-fought freedom, not one single, warm thought entered her head with regard to the two men back there, one lying dead on the ground and the other, highly nervous and fearing for his liberty, but convinced of Molly’s absolute dedication to him.

  Molly was also thinking of what the two of them had agreed to say, but for all Tom Stevens’ reassurances, she was slightly nervous, because while John Tanner was a man who would keep his word in any situation, she wasn’t entirely sure what kind of man Tom Stevens really was.

  When the time came, and he was facing a barrage of questions, would he keep his word to her? Would he be strong enough to take the blame and the punishment for John Tanner’s brutal death? Would he stay loyal to her and pay whatever penalty it might cost him? If his plea of self-defence was thrown out and he was charged with murder, the penalty would be unthinkable. Was he a man who could handle such pressure? Or would he break down and save himself at her ex
pense?

  The very thought of him buckling under the weight of the inevitable charges made her shiver. There would be dire consequences for her if, under the pressure of being questioned, he actually blurted out the shocking truth: that it was she who had deliberately killed John.

  If that dreadful possibility did arise, though, she would fight him with everything she had. She would do her utmost to discredit him, to make him out to be a liar and a devious, manipulative man. She would tell the world just how bad a character he was, and how he used her to get rid of her husband. He knew she was happily married, but he was grimly determined to steal her away from that fine man John Tanner. She would plead that he was insistent and had tried every trick in the book to get her away from the man she had long loved.

  If need be, she would go on to tell how he continuously pestered her, followed her until he wore her down, making her believe that she truly belonged to him. She felt trapped by his devious cunning and the awful pressure he put on her. He was like a demon! When he enticed her husband into the barn on some ruse she was afraid he meant to hurt John. She went after him, but she was too late.

  Yes … that’s how it all happened. That was what she would tell them if Tom refused to take the blame for John Tanner’s terrible end.

  If he did betray her, he would be the loser, because when her back was against the wall she knew how to play the game, and she would make him sorry.

  She would tell of how, some years ago, she had left Tom Stevens to be with John Tanner. Because of that, Tom was jealous and angry, and over the years he had often threatened to kill John.

  He was like a crazy thing: following her about at night; coaxing her … playing games and confusing her so much that she began to believe everything he said.

  She would tell the authorities that he was not the quiet and simple man he appeared to be. Instead, he was manipulative, possessive and at times dangerous and threatening.

  She vowed that if he should renege on their agreement she would try every dirty trick in the book to put him behind bars for so many years he would come out an old, old man.

  But for now, she had to hope that he would keep his word and tell the story they had planned together.

  CHAPTER THREE

  HAVING CHECKED SOME barns and buildings without finding her father, Rosie, the faithful Barney beside her, had arrived at the doors of the big hay barn.

  She was surprised to find the doors slightly open and the light on. She knew her father was careful to check the yards at the end of the day and to lock and secure all the buildings. Since the robbery he was especially conscientious about this.

  Approaching the hay barn doors, Rosie went softly, keeping vigilant and hoping she was not about to come across anything untoward, especially strangers who might be there for no good purpose.

  Increasingly nervous, she made no effort to go inside the barn, but positioned herself near the doors, where she might hear any noise from inside. After only a moment or two, she was alarmed to hear voices. As far as she could tell from the distant snatch of guarded conversation, there were just two of them: a man and a woman.

  Afraid even to peep inside, she moved herself so that she might not be seen, but was better able to hear the voices and possibly what they were actually saying. But unfortunately, the voices were too soft and too far away from where she was, so she carefully shifted closer and listened harder.

  Barney, with his stick, was by her side, ready and alert, but very still, as though waiting for Rosie’s signal to go inside.

  Silence fell, but after a few minutes, someone spoke and instantly, Rosie knew the voice belonged to the man.

  There began a seemingly serious exchange of words, followed by a moment of silence before the woman spoke again … softly, almost purring, but not recognisable.

  Then the voices fell silent again.

  Unnerved, Rosie ushered Barney back into the relative safety of the shadows. ‘Come away, boy. We don’t know who they are or what they want. It might be best if we keep our distance, for now,’ she whispered.

  She thought she heard her father’s name but she could not be certain. All she knew was that it was the same man’s voice as before. The second, softer voice was altogether too quiet for her to hear anything in detail.

  She wondered if the man’s voice could have been her father’s, but then she dismissed the idea. ‘I thought for a moment that was Daddy talking just now, but it couldn’t be, because why would he be saying his own name?’ she whispered to Barney. ‘No, I’m sure of it … that was not my father.’ Though because the other man had mentioned her father’s name, she could not altogether dismiss the idea that her father might be inside.

  She crept away to the dark, shadowy side of the yard. Feeling a great deal safer in the shrubby undergrowth, she sat on the ground and drew Barney down beside her. ‘D’you think it was Daddy in there?’ she asked him. ‘I think there were just the two of them. There was the man who said Daddy’s name … and then there was the person with the quieter voice. I think that is a woman.’

  So many wild and troubling thoughts raced through her head. What if they were the robbers that had stolen from them before? She wondered if she should go inside and try to see who those people were, but the very idea was frightening. What if she came face to face with them and they wanted to hurt her, or Barney?

  Close to tears, Rosie decided that she and Barney would stay out of sight in the bushes and wait to see who might come out. Still, she was a little disturbed as to why the man would mention her father. Did the robbers know him? So many questions, and no answers.

  As always, she softly consulted her loyal friend. ‘Barney, why do you think that man would be talking about Daddy?’

  When Barney softly licked her hand, as though consoling her, she wrapped her arms about his broad, silky neck, and whispered in his ear, ‘Oh, Barney! I need my daddy. Where is he? What’s happened to him?’

  Tears were very close.

  Inside the barn, Tom Stevens grew increasingly impatient. He was anxious for Molly to tell the exact same story as he did: that John Tanner found the two of them lying together in the hay. He flew into a rage and attacked Tom. But the fight got out of hand, and it soon became obvious that John Tanner meant to kill him. Afraid for his life, Tom had grabbed the spade and lashed out wildly, catching the other man a devastating blow on the head. He never meant to kill him; he was just desperate to get away. What happened was done in self-defence, pure and simple.

  It was imperative that Molly stick to every detail of this story, and because he had offered to take the blame, Tom had to put all his trust in this woman whom he had loved for so many years.

  They had agreed, when reporting the incident, Molly must not say that her husband was dead. Instead, she must simply tell them about the fight, and that her husband was lying unconscious on the ground; try as they might, they could not wake him.

  Now, though, he glanced up to see that Molly was still lingering, her head turned to look on the face of her dead husband.

  ‘Molly, you need to go,’ he reminded her. ‘For pity’s sake, hurry!’

  If there was a chance they might get away with murder, they must be seen to have called the ambulance straight away. He gave Molly a nudge and she glared at him in the half-light.

  ‘Don’t push me, Tom. I’m on my way.’

  Tom was increasingly worried about the passage of time since John had been killed. ‘As I recall, there’s a telephone booth on the corner, just a minute or so along the path. It might be quicker to call the ambulance from there rather than go all the way up to the house through the yards and buildings.’

  Molly nodded. ‘You’re right! It would be quicker.’

  Now desperate to have it over and done with, Molly took off.

  Crouching in the shrubbery, Rosie and the ever-loyal Barney were startled to hear the barn door creaking open.

  ‘Ssh!’ Rosie cautioned Barney.

  Carefully shifting position, she pe
ered through the bushes … and was astonished to find that the dark figure emerging from the barn was her mother. So what was she doing in the barn at this time of night? And who was the man she must have been inside with?

  Terrified of being seen, Rosie grabbed Barney by the collar and softly drew back with him, while pressing a warning finger to her lips. Barney understood and, like the good friend he was, he followed her lead.

  However, having also recognised Molly Tanner, he bent his head low and softly growled from the back of his throat.

  ‘No … ssh!’ Nervously chastising him, Rosie pulled him ever deeper into the shadows. Her mind was in turmoil. Why was her mother in the barn with some man? And where was her father?

  Deeply suspicious, Rosie had half a mind to show herself to find out what was happening, although the idea of confronting her mother and the man in the barn was a daunting prospect. Yet she was desperate to know the whereabouts of her beloved father.

  Confused, she took a moment to think.

  Suddenly the tap-tap of heels against the concrete path signalled that her mother was drawing nearer. Taking hold of Barney’s collar, Rosie held him to her, but there was no need to caution him as he settled silently beside her. Sensing something very wrong, he followed her instincts to remain hidden although she was by now increasingly fearful.

  Unaware that anyone had seen her coming out of the barn, Molly stopped for a moment to light a cigarette. ‘I’ll be glad when it’s all over,’ she muttered sourly. ‘I’m not altogether sure I can trust him. When it comes to the moment, I’m not sure Tom’ll be man enough to keep his word and take the blame for me.’

  Taking a long drag on the cigarette, she suddenly stopped and listened. What the devil was that?

  Going softly forward in the direction from where the sounds had come, she listened earnestly and, yes … there it was again: a kind of scuffling sound. ‘Who’s there?’ Reluctant to call again in case she startled Tom, she crept forward a little more, now deeply concerned that someone might have seen them inside the barn, or heard the plan she and Tom had agreed.