The Golden Anklet

by Beverly Hansford

  A wave of anxiety swept over her. Had her silly joke damaged her relationship with Bob?

  Chapter 32

  Suddenly Jane jumped up and went to sit beside Bob. She had to try and do something to rectify the situation. She placed her hand on his arm.

  ‘Darling, I’m sorry if I’ve upset you with my silly prank.’ She looked at him anxiously.

  Bob looked at her. There was a glimmer of a smile beginning to appear as he took in her words.

  Jane was feeling sad now. She put her arms round him, resting her head on his shoulder. She spoke softly. ‘I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to shock you or make you angry. It was just something silly I thought up after what you said – and now I’ve made a mess of things.’ As she finished speaking, she looked anxiously at him again. There were almost tears in her eyes now.

  For the first time since he had arrived Bob appeared to be more relaxed. ‘If you’re not careful, I won’t give you your present,’ he announced, smiling at her.

  ‘Oh, no… Please,’ she pleaded.

  Bob just grinned at her.

  Relieved, Jane took control. She gave him a peck on his cheek and whispered, ‘Give me five minutes. I’m going to change.’

  She was already jumping up and heading towards the bedroom. She spoke over her shoulder. ‘How about a cup of tea? Everything is ready. Just click the kettle on.’

  The five minutes became nearer ten. Once in her bedroom, Jane frantically tore off the dress, the ghastly shoes and the tights, but it took her longer than she had anticipated to remove the dark eyeshadow and lipstick. She knew what she was going to wear. She took it out of her wardrobe. It was a pink summer dress with a halter neck. It left her shoulders and a good deal of her back bare, but it was just right, she thought, for the occasion, and when they went out this evening she could drape her white cardigan over her shoulders. She had a pendant necklace to enhance the plunging neckline. It meant that she had to remove the engagement ring on its chain from around her neck. For a second she was tempted to place it on her finger, but somehow she hesitated to do so and instead placed it safely in the jewellery box at the back of her dressing-table drawer, where she kept it hidden whenever she was not with Bob. Replacement lipstick and a dab of perfume were quickly applied. Carrying a pair of soft-topped high-heeled white court shoes she had purchased during the week, she reappeared in the lounge. She lifted first one foot and then the other to slip on her shoes as she entered.

  ‘How’s this, darling?’ She twirled round, swirling the skirt as she spoke.

  Bob looked up from the Ashington book, which he had picked up from the table.

  ‘I like what I see,’ he replied, with a smile.

  Jane sat down beside him and snuggled up to him. ‘Am I forgiven?’ she asked softly.

  Bob grinned at her. ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Please,’ Jane whispered in his ear.

  Bob kissed her gently. ‘Don’t give me a shock like that again.’ He smiled again.

  Jane leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘I promise I won’t do it again,’ she murmured.

  Suddenly she sat upright and gave him a mischievous grin. ‘You can spank me if you want to.’ Just to spice up her statement, she added a bit more. ‘Graham spanked me once.’ She made a face. ‘On my bare bottom.’

  Bob pretended to be serious. ‘Good for him,’ he remarked.

  He was amused and intrigued by Jane’s revelation. He wanted to know more. ‘And what had you done to justify such drastic punishment?’ he asked.

  Jane gave him a coy look. ‘I burnt one of his favourite shirts when I was ironing; and then when he was angry about it, I threw a cup of water over him.’

  Bob burst out laughing. ‘Then you clearly deserved it,’ he announced firmly, as if that was the final word on the subject.

  ‘You’re not supposed to say that,’ complained Jane.

  Bob gave her a quick kiss. ‘Just behave in future,’ he replied.

  Jane snuggled up to him again. She clasped her arms around him. ‘You wouldn’t do that to me would you?’ she whispered.

  Bob was slow in responding.

  Jane shot upright again. ‘Would you?’ She looked anxiously at him.

  ‘I’ll certainly think about it,’ he announced, pretending to be serious.

  ‘Oh, no.’ Jane wailed. She was not sure if Bob was joking, but she was determined to play the role of the helpless female for a bit longer.

  She wrapped her arms around him again. ‘If you do, I’ll squeal the place down and then all my neighbours will come knocking at my door. Then they’ll send for the police and you’ll be arrested for beating me,’ she said softly.

  Bob gave a big sigh. ‘Ah, the problems of modern living,’ he replied.

  Suddenly he gave her a quick kiss.

  ‘Have you noticed anything about me?’ she asked.

  ‘I noticed the dress,’ Bob chipped in quickly, his eyes on the cleft between her breasts and the pendant hanging there.

  Jane held up her hand and displayed her ring finger. ‘I should be wearing your ring on my finger, but I’ve still not got used to my new name. I just want to be Jane Carroll for a bit longer,’ she almost whispered as she again burrowed her face in his shoulder.

  Before Bob could make any response, she added, almost to herself, ‘I suppose I do know who I am now.’

  ‘Ruth Ashington,’ said Bob.

  Jane was rather pensive. Her thoughts translated into speech. She sat up again and regarded Bob as she spoke. ‘You know, Bob, I don’t really want to be Ruth Ashington. I much prefer to be Jane Carroll. I think I really want to remain Jane Carroll.’

  ‘What? Not even Jane Harker?’ Bob faked shock.

  Jane jumped in quickly. ‘No! I don’t mean that, silly. I meant until you marry me.’

  Bob changed the subject. ‘How about that cup of tea?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ said Jane, making a move to get up.

  ‘I made it ages ago. I bet it’s gone cold now,’ he laughed.

  ‘I’ll warm it up.’

  Jane was already fumbling for one of her shoes, which had come off during their discourse and disappeared under the settee. As she replaced it and started to walk towards the kitchen, taking careful steps on the new, slippery soles, Bob picked up the book again. ‘I’ll talk to you about that over tea,’ Jane called out just before she disappeared from view.

  The tea had gone cold. Jane had to start again. Several minutes later she arrived back in the lounge carrying the tea and a plate of chocolate biscuits – Bob’s favourite. Bob was still engrossed in the book. He looked up as she set the tray down on the table.

  ‘This is really interesting,’ he commented.

  Jane busied herself with the tea and did not reply immediately.

  ‘I’ve read through it several times,’ she replied, handing Bob a cup.

  He looked at her. She seemed subdued suddenly, a direct contrast to the teasing and joking of earlier. ‘What do you think about it?’ he asked, adding a biscuit to his saucer.

  Jane thought for a second. ‘It’s interesting, but the bit about the family being involved in the slave trade really bothers me. Whoever wrote the book seems to glorify in that part of the family history.’ She took up her cup of tea as she spoke.

  Bob thought for a second about what she had just said. ‘Hmm. Perhaps written by an academic who specialises in that bit of history.’

  Jane turned to him, concerned. She spoke quietly. ‘But, Bob, if I really am Ruth Ashington, and it now certainly looks that way, these are my ancestors who did all those terrible things to poor, innocent people.’ She looked imploringly at him.

  ‘Poppet, you can’t be held responsible for the actions of your ancestors,’ Bob replied. He could see that Jane was upset by the revelations in the book.

  Jane was silent for a few seconds. ‘Yes, I know, but it’s just the thought of what happened to all those people – whole families dragged from their environment and tr
ansported all those miles across the sea. They must have been petrified. And then sold and forced to work to make money for my ancestors.’

  ‘It’s a pretty bad part of history,’ agreed Bob. He was scanning through the book as he spoke. He stopped to look at a page and showed it to Jane. ‘Have you seen this picture of Ashington House?’ he asked.

  Jane nodded. ‘Yes, I have.’ She thought for a second. ‘That’s where I must have lived when I was tiny, before I was put in the orphanage.’ She looked up at Bob. ‘I’d like to see it again,’ she remarked quietly.

  ‘We could drive down there sometime,’ suggested Bob. A thought struck him. ‘Even tomorrow.’

  There was a glimmer of excitement about Jane as she poured out her tea. ‘Could we? I’d really like that.’

  ‘Why not?’ answered Bob. ‘We’ll get up early,’ he added.

  Jane made a face, and then looked a bit concerned. ‘Darling, I haven’t told you yet. I booked us in at Mario’s this evening. My treat.’

  ‘We’ll have to be careful how much wine we drink, then.’ He laughed.

  They settled down to have their tea, Bob munching the chocolate biscuits and Jane making one biscuit last to keep him company. It wasn’t until they had finished that she suddenly remembered something.

  ‘Darling, do I get my surprise now?’ she asked excitedly, adding with a wry smile, ‘After all, you’ve had yours.’

  Bob pretended to be serious and offended. ‘After that nasty joke, I’m not sure if you deserve it,’ he replied.

  Jane grabbed his arm. ‘Oh, please,’ she implored him.

  ‘OK. I’ll forgive you. Just this once,’ he replied, hiding his amusement at her anxiety.

  He got up and went into the hall, where he had left his weekend bag and a rather interesting package that had caught Jane’s attention when he arrived. He came back into the lounge, sat down beside her again and handed her the package. ‘Here you are, poppet – though I’m not sure you deserve it after your surprise for me,’ he said with a grin.

  Jane took up the challenge. She planted a kiss on his lips. ‘Darling, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’

  He laughed. ‘I’ll make sure you do.’ Then he urged her, ‘Open it.’

  Jane placed the package on her knee and gently prised open the covering paper. Two large photographs mounted in stiff edging frames were revealed. They were the photographs Bob had taken of her the previous week. One was in full colour, the other black and white. In the first she was wearing her necklace, but the second had been taken after Bob had asked her to remove it.

  Jane stared at the photographs for what seemed a long time. She was speechless with joy. She suddenly became aware of Bob watching her intently. She lifted her gaze from the photographs. ‘Darling, they are beautiful. Thank you.’

  She gave him a quick kiss and then turned her attention to the photographs again. ‘I never expected anything like this,’ she murmured. ‘They’ve come out so marvellous.’

  ‘I’m rather pleased with them myself,’ Bob exclaimed with a chuckle.

  ‘I’m going to frame one of them,’ Jane announced suddenly. She hesitated. ‘The trouble is that they’re both so nice that I can’t make my mind up which one.’ She held them both up, viewing them critically.

  ‘Black and white has a certain quality that is not obtainable with colour,’ observed Bob, eyeing up the photographs.

  ‘I’ll probably frame both and alternate them,’ laughed Jane.

  ‘I’ve got something else.’ Bob returned to his overnight bag and reappeared holding a small paper wallet. He handed it to Jane.

  She looked at him, surprised, for a second, before curiosity made her investigate the wallet. There were six photographs inside, taken at the dinner dance several weeks before. Two were of them arriving at the event, and the others were random shots taken at various times during the evening. One even showed Bob placing the engagement ring on Jane’s finger.

  Jane gazed at Bob questioningly, her pleasure curtailing her speech.

  Bob grinned at her. ‘I know the photographers,’ he explained.

  She smiled back. ‘Our engagement recorded on film,’ she murmured softly.

  ‘No getting out of it now,’ chuckled Bob.

  Jane gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘I don’t want to get out of it,’ she retorted reproachfully.

  She turned to Bob with a look of mock concern. ‘That is, unless after my naughty prank you don’t want to know me any more.’

  Chapter 33

  ‘It can’t be far now.’ Jane gave a quick glance at Bob before returning her attention to the road.

  Bob looked at the map on his knees. ‘It’s not,’ he reassured her. ‘I calculate that it’s only about another two miles.’

  ‘Great.’ Jane had been driving for about an hour and a half and was now looking forward to a break.

  She had enjoyed the previous evening. They had made their way early to Mario’s and were surprised and delighted to be given one of the best tables in the restaurant. Mario had fussed over them, flirting with Jane and feasting his eyes on her dress. Knowing that they would be driving early the next morning, they had drunk sparingly from the bottle of wine they had ordered. In the end Mario had recorked it and they had departed from the restaurant carrying the half-full bottle in a paper bag.

  Once back at Jane’s apartment they had made themselves a drink, chatted for a while and then retreated to bed, with the intention of getting up early. Their lovemaking had been brief, which had left Jane slightly disappointed as she was still feeling bad about her prank earlier in the day and desperately wanted to make it up to Bob. She fell asleep vowing to rectify the situation at the earliest possible moment.

  That morning Bob had woken up with a headache and Jane had wanted to cancel their excursion. However, Bob had assured her that the problem would soon disappear and that he was happy to go as long as she drove the first half of the way. In the end she had insisted on driving the whole distance so that he could relax. They had made a comfort stop at a motorway service station and in the end had taken time for a cup of coffee. Now the end of the journey was in sight.

  ‘Do you think we’ll be able to talk to anybody living in the house?’ asked Jane, braking quickly for a sharp bend in the road.

  ‘It really depends on who’s there now,’ replied Bob. ‘We know it can’t be Miles Ashington.’ He glanced at the map again. ‘We must be getting close.’ Almost immediately he exclaimed, ‘There it is!’

  Jane instinctively slowed the car and caught a brief glimpse of two iron gates out of the corner of her eye as they passed.

  ‘There’s a layby. We can park there,’ said Bob.

  Jane had already spied it, just a few yards ahead. She carefully steered the BMW into it. There was just about room for two cars to park off the road.

  Bob was the first to jump out. Jane was a bit slower, as she changed her driving shoes for something more elegant.

  Jane clicked the car locked and together they walked back to the gates of Ashington House. It was a glorious morning, with the sun shining brightly. Somewhere close by church bells were ringing.

  ‘There must be a village somewhere near here,’ observed Jane, with a quick glance in the direction of the sound.

  ‘There it is. You can just see the church, over there.’ Bob pointed towards some trees across the fields.

  Jane looked where he was indicating and could just see the spire of a church.

  They reached the entrance to the drive, and stopped. They both stared in disbelief at the gates and then at each other.

  ‘It looks almost abandoned,’ remarked Jane.

  The tall iron gates that guarded the entrance were rusty and neglected. A large padlock and a rusty chain secured them. It was obvious they had not been opened for years. Beyond them a drive overgrown with weeds disappeared round a bend not far away. Clearly it had been a long time since any motor vehicle had driven along it.

  ‘Somebody comes in here re
gularly, though.’ Bob pointed to the half-open side gate. A narrow path had been worn, leading away from it.

  ‘Shall we enquire at the lodge?’ asked Jane.

  A stone-built lodge stood beside the gates. It had some appearance of being lived in. Curtains hung at the windows and the front garden was tidy, with flowers growing in the beds. Jane opened the little gate and they went up the short path to the front door. Bob pressed the doorbell. Somewhere in the distance they could hear the bell ring.

  There was no answer.

  ‘Try again,’ urged Jane.

  Again they received no answer.

  ‘Nobody at home,’ concluded Bob with a sigh.

  ‘Let’s walk up to the house,’ suggested Jane, with a final glance at the lodge windows.

  Hand in hand they followed the worn path along the drive.

  ‘People must walk their dogs here,’ Bob observed, pointing to the evidence at the side of the track.

  At that instant they reached the bend in the drive and the house stood in front of them. Its appearance prompted an exclamation of surprise and shock from Jane.

  ‘It’s a ruin!’

  All that was left of a once-elegant house were gaunt, roofless walls reaching up to the sky. The windows were all gaping holes devoid of glass. The whole building had an air of desolation and decay about it.

  For several minutes they peered at the scene in front of them, and then they walked towards the building. The front door had long been boarded up, but they peered through one of the lower windows. What once must have been quite big and grand rooms were now a mass of debris and fallen roof timbers. In some places vegetation was well established, growing in areas where it could obtain nutriment.

  Jane turned to Bob. She spoke quietly. ‘I wonder what happened,’ she said casually.

  Bob gazed around at the remains of the house. ‘It looks as if it was destroyed by fire,’ he replied.

  ‘It’s rather sad. It must have been such a nice house.’