‘Hello Dora, I thought I’d just pop in to see how you are.’ Jim hugged the kind cook.
‘Get away with you. You’ve come for some of my apple pie and don’t deny it.’ Dora laughed and brought a freshly baked pie to the table. It smelled good.
‘You know me, Dora, I could never say no to your baking.’ Jim watched Dora cut him a large slice of pie, heaping it onto a plate, and he tucked in without needing encouragement. He’d almost finished his pie when the kitchen’s inner door opened and Daisy Hope bustled in, carrying a large wicker basket filled with linens. Jim already knew that Daisy had taken his mother’s job at the Manor, but at the sight of her a piece of pie stuck in his throat and he nearly choked. Daisy had filled out even more, and because of the excess weight, her face reminded him of a greedy hamster.
Daisy blushed at Jim’s scrutiny but managed a quick hello, and then she rushed out of his sight into the small laundry room attached to the kitchen.
Dora pursed her lips. Daisy hadn’t confided in her, and it wasn’t Dora’s way to ask, but she had her suspicions about Daisy’s gain in weight. Dora had never felt broody for a child of her own, substituting any temporary need in that direction with the Deverell children and the Farrells’ brood. She knew all the signs though, having watched her sister bloom over the months before giving birth to Dora’s nephew, Billy. Daisy didn’t have a young man as far as Dora knew, which raised doubts about a possible pregnancy, but seeing the quick exchange between Daisy and Jim just now, well, Dora put two and two together and made five.
Dora went to the open doorway of the laundry room and said kindly, ‘Daisy, come and have a rest love, take the weight off your feet for five minutes.’
‘I will in a minute, thanks. I’ll just put these linens to soak first,’ Daisy said gratefully. The cook was a good sort and Daisy never regretted coming to work with her. When Leo found out she was living under the same roof as him, he was horrified and didn’t mince his words telling her so. Daisy thought about the last time she and Leo were together. Mr Treweeks, the landlord at the Nags Head, still let them use an upstairs bedroom and turned a blind eye to their comings and goings. All that day she’d rehearsed the best way to tell him she was carrying his child, but the look of shock on his face as she undressed in front of him stopped her.
‘My God, Daisy, you’re a cow,’ he’d said, sneering in distaste before leaving her alone without so much as a kiss.
Leo had had no interest in her since then and Daisy knew it wouldn’t be long before she would have to find herself somewhere else to live. Mr Treweeks wouldn’t have her back, not in her condition, and after the baby was born, God bless it, it was unlikely he’d entertain a barmaid with excess baggage. Going home to face her father and mother’s disapproval wasn’t an option either.
In the kitchen Daisy sat down opposite Jim at the table, and Dora put a mug of hot tea and a piece of apple pie in front of her. Daisy hoped she’d found a friend in Dora and decided to confide in her when the time was right.
‘I’ll be off then.’ Jim stood and thanked Dora for the pie and tea.
Daisy smiled up at him, admiring his dark good looks, comparing them to Leo’s fair complexion. ‘How’s your Mum and Amy doing, Jim?’ she asked genuinely.
Before Jim could answer a commotion was heard from outside. He opened the kitchen door and looked out. Men were coming back into the yard and through the roar of their voices he made out three words.
‘We’ve found Laurence.’
***
John dismounted from Belle and led the horse into the makeshift stable in the paddock adjacent to Primrose Cottage. Easing the saddle from the horse’s back, John laid it over a wooden stool in the corner. He slipped off her blanket and with gentle strokes wiped off the sweat from the horse’s coat. From the pump outside he filled a bucket full with fresh water and placed it in another corner of the stable, alongside a feed of oats and corn and a bed of clean hay. Stiff and aching from the long ride, John stretched and arched his back to release the tension in his muscles, and in the quiet of the moment he heard a noise. Straightening he strained to listen. Slow, stealthily placed footsteps could not avoid scraping against the shingle stones and they sounded now as though they were right outside the stable door. There again, more footsteps. Whoever it was, they weren’t alone. John watched the door swing open, hinges squealing in protest, to reveal a large dense shape silhouetted against the dusky sky. The sudden glare of a lamp illuminated the shabby shack and John shielded his eyes, backing away, putting the horse between him and the person whose face he couldn’t see behind the lamp.
‘John,’ a deep grainy voice boomed and to John’s relief it was a voice he immediately recognised.
‘Blimey Bill, you gave me a turn, creeping about like that. What’s up?’ Constable Bill Lucas stepped inside and as John had suspected, the man wasn’t alone. Two other officers waited outside the door, as if on guard.
Constable Lucas stood six feet two, his shoulders as wide as the door frame. He spotted the way John’s gaze kept shifting to the door as though contemplating escape and the instinctive way he had stepped behind his horse for protection. Bill liked John Farrell, respected him even, having known him for almost five years, but he had a job to do. He cleared his throat.
‘John, while you were away Laurence Deverell’s body was found.’ He waited for a response, surprised when none came. If anything Bill noticed a sense of relief in John’s demeanour. Bill pondered the possibility of John’s guilt after all, which up to now he’d remained sceptical of. ‘I need you to come with me to the police station. There are a few questions Inspector Lambourne wants to ask you.’
John’s unease was obvious in his voice. ‘Can’t you ask your questions here? I’ve just ridden all the way from Wrexham and could do with a hot drink and a bite to eat.’ John smiled good-naturedly, testing the situation, adding, ‘Come to the cottage and I’ll make us all a brew.’
‘Sorry, John, I’ve had my orders to take you in.’
‘Am I under arrest then?’ John asked quietly.
‘Not exactly, no. Not unless you resist, which I’m sure there’s no need for.’
John meekly followed the policeman outside and allowed himself to be helped into the horse-drawn police wagon. ‘What about Jim? I’ll have to let him know where I am.’
‘It’s been taken care of.’ Constable Lucas climbed inside and sat opposite John, making no attempt at any further conversation. The other two policemen sat up on top and made off towards Chester at a steady pace.
As soon as Jim heard of his father’s arrest he made straight for Chester police station and demanded to see him. After a long wait he was led to a holding cell, and once inside he waited for the heavy door to shut behind him before he spoke.
‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on, Dad, and no bullshit about a stranger attacking Mum and Amy either?’ he said angrily.
John sat on his bed, a thin mattress on a low wooden shelf about three feet wide, unshaven and grimy, his face paler than Jim had ever seen. Jim sat down on the makeshift bed and placed a hand on his father’s arm.
‘Are you all right, Dad?’ Jim said, sorry for his outburst.
‘Yes, I’m all right, and no, I’m not going to tell you what’s going on. I don’t want you involved, so it’s better if you don’t know.’ John stood and began pacing the floor.
Jim watched in silence. Constable Lucas said his father was in for questioning about Laurence Deverell’s death. Laurence had disappeared on the same day Mum and Amy were attacked, so it stood to reason the two were connected. All the talk about a stranger was nonsense. He’d asked around and no one else had seen a stranger lurking about in the village. Jim suspected he’d been told a pack of lies. His father not reporting the attack to the police wasn’t logical either. So if he wasn’t to be told the truth, he could only guess at the part his father played in it all. Dad must think I’m stupid if he doesn’t understand I can put two and two together, he thou
ght, his anger rising again.
John stopped pacing and sat down beside his son. ‘Your job is to look after Lillian and Harry until I get out of here, or until your Mum and Amy come home. I may not have a job when I get out, so don’t go causing trouble with the Deverells. We can’t do with you losing your job and all. Do you understand me, Jim? I only have you to rely on, son; please don’t let me down.’ John’s look of concern mellowed Jim’s anger and he nodded.
‘I won’t let you down, Dad, I promise.’ Jim heard the key in the cell door and stood. John grabbed his hand and said with forced optimism,
‘Thanks son. Anyway, we don’t need to worry. I have an alibi. I was with Charlie laying traps in the wood all that day remember. He’ll speak up for me and I’ll be out of here in no time.’
Jim smiled half-heartedly, wondering why Charlie hadn’t already been in to clear his father’s name.
Charlie Brock, John’s so-called best friend, visited John a few days later, and to John’s surprise and dismay, Charlie wouldn’t verify his alibi.
‘I’m not speaking up, John. I’d rather not get involved if you don’t mind,’ Charlie said, not a bit shamefaced. ‘I don’t want to rub Leo up the wrong way. You know how he is, and I can’t afford to lose my job, any more than you,’ he emphasised.
Chapter 17
Head down, hurrying along, David’s step faltered when he saw Leonie’s car parked on his drive. ‘Oh for goodness sake, what does she want now?’ he muttered to himself. He walked into his living room, surprised to find it empty. A noise took him to his office in time to see Leonie struggling to open a drawer in his desk. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked quietly.
‘Oh my God, David, you gave me a fright. What are you creeping about for?’
‘Well?’ David asked, ignoring her question.
‘You said you had information concerning the Farrells. I wanted to know what it was.’
‘You should have waited and asked me first.’
‘Don’t be so stuffy. It’s not as if it’s a secret between us.’ Leonie stared at him in defiance.
‘That’s not the point. How would you like it if I came to your office and tried to root through your desk?’
‘You wouldn’t dare. Anyway, come on, open up, and let’s have a look.’ Leonie changed places with her brother and pushed him towards his desk.
‘No! Not now, Leonie. It’s been a long day and I want a shower and something to eat.’ Seething inside, David held his anger in check and stood his ground when he saw Leonie bristle. ‘No, Leonie, I mean it. As you said, no good can come of raking up the past, so leave it alone.’
Leonie didn’t answer. She stood frozen, looking through the office door into the hall. Curious, David turned to see what held her attention.
Amelia Farrell returned their stares. ‘Reverend Lanceley, I’m sorry to arrive unannounced like this. The back door was open as you’d said it would be, and I couldn’t get any answer when I knocked.’ Amelia looked from one to the other.
David gaped at Amelia, wondering if she had overheard their conversation.
‘I’m so sorry for intruding upon you, please forgive me,’ Amelia said to Leonie and then added, ‘Shall I call back at a more convenient time, David?’ Amelia spoke his name quietly and smiled shyly at him.
Sensing Amelia’s embarrassment, David hastily made the introductions. ‘This is my sister, Leonie. Leonie, Amelia Farrell.’
Leonie was resentful of the intrusion and as soon as she knew who the visitor was, she stood staring out of the window indifferently.
‘Come in, come in.’ David led Amelia into his sitting room and she sat down on the sofa. He smiled warmly and then whispered, ‘It’s my turn to apologise for my sister’s rudeness. Don’t take it personally; Leonie is like that with everyone.’ He laughed, trying to make light of the uncomfortable situation. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Thank you,’ Amelia said. It seemed tea was the cure for everything.
Leonie could hear the undertones of her brother’s voice, and giving up on the purpose of her visit she walked to the open doorway of the sitting room. ‘No, please don’t leave on my account, Miss Farrell,’ she said scathingly, and giving her brother a disapproving look, she walked out of the house. David shook his head at Leonie’s retreating back and apologised again for his sister’s rudeness.
David made the drink, and after he had passed Amelia a mug of his strong tea he sat down beside her on the sofa. ‘Well, what can I do for you? Not unearthed another headstone I trust?’
Amelia shook her head. She wanted to tell him about the article Grace had found in the Centurion but was worried about how he would react. She was somewhat reassured by the fact he was a religious man, whose Christian faith and beliefs included forgiveness and turning the other cheek and all that. Surely he wouldn’t bear a grudge against them for something their great grandfather had done. However, how would he respond to his parishioners’ reactions? We couldn’t continue to live in the cottage if everyone hated us, she thought sadly.
‘Uncovered any skeletons then?’ David asked brightly.
Jolted by his words, Amelia almost spilled her drink. ‘What did you say?’
‘Sorry, bad joke.’
‘Well, as a matter of fact, I don’t think it’s funny,’ Amelia retorted, provoked by his jibe, and without warning she began to cry. ‘Grace wouldn’t let it rest. She insisted we dig underneath the headstone, you know, the one we told you about.’
David knew immediately to what she was referring. ‘I see.’
‘I shouldn’t have snapped at you, I’m sorry.’ Amelia wiped her tears away. David took her hand in his and patted it gently. Finding the gesture a little patronising she withdrew her hand. ‘I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m not like this usually.’
‘I take it from your distress that you’ve found something?’
‘Yes, it looks like a coffin.’ Amelia’s voice quivered. ‘It was such a shock. Grace wants to open it and I’m frightened she’ll be proved right and there’s a body inside.’ She looked at David, her eyes still moist from tears. ‘I want to go to the police, but if it does turn out to be someone’s pet, we’d be wasting their time. I’m at my wit’s end and don’t know what to do for the best.’
It was all Lanceley could do to stop himself from taking her into his arms, but he’d noticed the swift removal of her hand from his and the rebuff hurt. ‘So how can I help?’
‘Will you be there in the garden with us when we open it, please, just in case it does contain human remains?’
Clearly disappointed she only needed him in his capacity as vicar, David reassured her. ‘Of course, I’ll do anything I can to help. When were you thinking of attempting it?’
‘If it stays dry Grace wants to do it tomorrow afternoon.’ Amelia shrugged, indicating the decision was out of her hands. ‘Would you like to come for lunch and then we could make a start straight after.’ David nodded in agreement and Amelia added, ‘About one o’clock would be ideal.’
‘I’ll see you then.’ Reverend Lanceley’s mind was already contemplating the outcome.
Chapter 18
David Lanceley arrived at Primrose Cottage travelling pillion on the back of Nathan’s motorbike. ‘I believe you already know Nathan Brock,’ he said to Amelia, taking off a crash helmet and fluffing his hair. Watching him, Amelia thought the action effeminate. ‘I’ve brought Nathan along to help. I hope you don’t mind,’ he added.
Amelia turned to Nathan and smiled. ‘You were in the pub the other evening.’ She led both men into the kitchen where Grace waited.
The meal, simple spaghetti bolognaise, had to be divided into four now, so Amelia put extra pasta onto boil and rearranged the place settings on the table.
Grace glanced up and said a polite hello to both visitors. Nathan stacked his motorcycle gear in a corner of the room then stood to one side, unsure what to do.
‘Have you done this sort of thing before then?’ Grace asked.
‘What, digging up a coffin, no way.’ Nathan’s words in his strong Cheshire accent were accompanied by a facial expression indicating disgust.
Amelia dished out the meal and watched Nathan tucking heartily into his food.
She wondered if he lived alone. She smiled when he caught her eye. ‘Did you volunteer for this job, Nathan, or were you coerced into it?’
‘He’s only going to help me with the heavier work,’ David answered, battling with spaghetti that refused to stay put on his fork.
‘It’s just a shallow box; I don’t expect it weighs much. We could probably lift it out by ourselves,’ Amelia emphasised.
Grace nodded in agreement. ‘We don’t fancy opening it though. By the way, I found something which may belong to you.’ Grace handed him the piece of paper she had found.
Lanceley took a fleeting look at the paper and paled. He remembered clearly the day he’d dropped it and where.
‘It looks like part of a plan for the cemetery. Is it?’ Grace took the paper back out of his hand then pointed to one of the squares. ‘This one has the initials JF. Do they stand for John Farrell?’
‘It’s the plan for a section of unhallowed ground just outside the graveyard walls, and yes, John Farrell is buried there,’ Reverend Lanceley said seriously.
‘Unhallowed?’ Amelia asked.
‘He committed suicide.’ Lanceley set his fork and spoon straight on his plate, suddenly losing his appetite.
‘I can fill you in on what happened if you like.’ Nathan pushed his plate away, his meal finished.
David got up and walked over to his boots and began pulling them on. ‘Let’s get the grave thing sorted first,’ he said. He retrieved his coat from behind the door and stood looking at them. ‘Come on, someone lead the way. Let’s get this done.’
A Grave Inheritance Page 12
