Lord James Harrington and the Cornish Mystery

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Lord James Harrington and the Cornish Mystery Page 13

by Lynn Florkiewicz


  ‘We like our own company. That’s our secret – our independence. Tris is at his happiest up at the Sanctuary, rescuing things, helping the helpless, roaming the cliff-tops, tending to poorly birds. A proper Dr Doolittle, that’s Tris. I’m wrapped up with the WI and baking.’

  ‘So did you snare Tristram or was it the other way around.’

  ‘Funnily enough, the other way around. I didn’t think I stood a chance with him. He always had a glamorous girl on his arm but do you know who I reminded him of?’

  Beth and Anne waited for her answer.

  ‘It’s going to sound unflattering but I reminded him of his grandmother.’ Another bellow went up to the rafters. ‘I punched him on the arm when he told me why he’d asked me out. I told him, I’m not your grandma, I never will be and you can take a running jump.’

  Beth chuckled. ‘But he persisted. I guess his grandma had similar traits to you.’

  ‘Exactly. I was thinking he thought I looked like an eighty year old hag – like my grandma, but he was looking at the person inside. Stupid of me to have made such a meal out of it.’

  Anne commented that grandparents tended to be a child’s favourite people. ‘Our two love staying with mine and Stephen’s parents.’

  Hilda agreed. ‘He spent most of his time with his grandmother. His parents split up when he was ten and he and his mum stopped with her. I believe she was a strong and assertive lady who kept them safe. They stayed with her. And, of course, I’m also in that category – like to make sure people are safe. Never quite sure whether that’s a good or bad thing.’ She slapped her knees and got up. ‘Excuse me but I need to get song sheets for the next rehearsal.’

  ‘Before you go,’ said Beth, ‘I couldn’t help but think about the comment you made when you were with Evelyn the day we met you.’

  Hilda’s brow knitted together.

  ‘You said to her that things were looking up.’

  A momentary loss of composure was quickly replaced by a smile and a shrug. ‘Did I? I say the oddest things sometimes. Tris always tells me off for speaking before thinking. Come along ladies, we must get on.’

  ‘Are you singing another hymn?’

  ‘We’re doing a song that’s a little out of season. ‘Halantow’. It’s a Cornish folk song that we normally sing on 1st May but it’s all about summer coming and lends itself to a lot of harmonies. When we’ve done that, would you mind giving us a little talk about what you do at the Cavendish WI?’

  As she strode off, Beth caught the eye of Edith Pengilly. The lady approached with a cup and saucer in her hand and sat down opposite them. Almost immediately, she placed a hand on Beth’s knee and apologised for her husband’s behaviour earlier that day.

  ‘Enoch gets bad-tempered occasionally. He don’t mean nothing by it.’

  ‘That’s quite all right, Mrs Pengilly. James and I were a little concerned. I’m not used to seeing a husband behave that way toward his wife. Not in public at least.’

  Edith shifted in her chair and pulled her chin in. ‘Like I say, he don’t mean nothing by it. It’s just his way. No need for your husband to have got involved.’

  ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t have done if he’d known. I’m sorry if that offended you; he was only doing what he thought was right.’

  ‘Very chivalrous, I’m sure.’

  Anne exaggerated her cheerfulness and enquired about Enoch. ‘He’s a fisherman too, is he?’

  Edith explained that he’d fished since he was ten and was now in his sixtieth year. ‘God willing, he’ll keep coming home safe. I’d be lost without my Enoch.’ She gestured to the area where Evelyn and Debra stood. ‘I don’t know how they’re managing.’

  ‘Perhaps they’re putting on a brave face,’ said Beth, although silently she felt Debra couldn’t have cared less about the missing Bevis. ‘It’s strange that nothing’s been heard from them. Do the villagers have any idea about what’s happened?’

  Edith drew herself in. Beth saw this was a subject Edith didn’t want to broach and, to lighten the mood, highlighted the rumour about the Knockers and Spriggans.

  She shrugged. ‘Someone has those men. If it is the Knockers, they need to hand them back. They’re working men. Those wives haven’t two ha’pennies to rub together. The fisherman’s co-operative are helping them but it won’t last for long.’

  Anne asked how long Edith had been married and they discovered she’d recently celebrated her 40th wedding anniversary.

  ‘And do you have children?’

  After a moment of reflection, Edith said: ‘A daughter.’ She looked to the floor. ‘Don’t see much of her now. Left home and moved to Devon.’

  Beth said that surely that was no distance. ‘It’s only the next county along.’

  Edith blinked two or three times. ‘She’s busy with her own friends.’ She put her cup and saucer down, clasped her hands together and looked up with a smile. ‘So are you joining us for the next parade?’

  They confirmed they would definitely be there and expressed how much they were enjoying seeing the customs celebrated in another county. Edith wished them well as Hilda beckoned the group together again.

  Song-sheets were given out and ‘Halantow’ was sung with great gusto. Beth and Anne were sure they wouldn’t know the song but, once they began, they remembered Bob Tanner, who ran their local folk club, singing this regularly. They lent their harmonies to the chorus:

  ‘Hal-an-tow, jolly rumbalow, We were up long

  before the day-o

  To welcome in the summer, to welcome in the May-

  o.

  The summer is a-coming and the winter’s gone away-

  o.’

  A feeling of elation washed over Beth. She turned to Anne. ‘We should start a choir in Cavendish. I can’t believe we don’t have one. I find this so inspiring.’

  ‘Me too. Why don’t we organise it when we get back? I’m sure there are plenty of people who’d love to join.’

  Hilda invited Beth and Anne to the front where they spoke about the Cavendish WI and the varied activities they had. They swapped ideas and suggestions and on the whole, each side felt they’d benefited from knowing what the other club did. Beth certainly came away with some thoughts of her own that had nothing to do with the WI. She looked forward to sharing them with James.

  Anne linked arms with her. ‘Come on, Beth, let’s join the men and see if anyone has made any discoveries.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  James ordered five portions of chips at Vic and Flora’s and once again they witnessed some intensive nagging from Flora. He pulled a face at Stephen, as if to say ‘poor man’. Stephen said he’d wait for the chips so James went outside and joined Beth, Anne and Bert at one of the outside tables.

  The sun had gone down and, although the hot fryer provided some warmth around the doorway, one needed a jumper or cardigan. A toot from a passing van made them look up. It was Tristram and Hans who had slowed down to wave and shout hello. They waved back and watched them swerve around the corner and disappear.

  Luke had fallen asleep on Anne’s lap and Mark dozed in James’ arms.

  The ladies questioned Bert about his romance with Gladys. He insisted they weren’t a couple. ‘She’s a lady friend, that’s all. Nothing more. We met up after a number of years and we’re back in that footing. There ain’t no romance.’

  Beth and Anne giggled like schoolgirls meeting a film star. Bert told them to change the subject and asked Beth if she was all right with her husband becoming a midnight sailor.

  Beth glared at James. ‘A midnight sailor? Where’re you going?’

  James, in turn, glared at Bert and shifted uncomfortably. ‘I thought I’d find out a little more about those lights.’

  ‘Over my dead body. In the middle of the night? Have you gone mad? You can’t even sail.’

  ‘I don’t need to sail. There’s a motor boat moored up down there that I’ve managed to hire. All I have to do is point and go.’

&nbs
p; Stephen arrived with the chips. ‘Flora is nagging Vic for overdoing the chips again.’

  Bert smothered his in salt and vinegar and tasted one. ‘Don’t know why, they’re lovely. Crisp on the outside, fluffy on the inside. That’s how you want yer chips.’ He turned in his chair, held a chip up on his wooden fork and shouted across to Vic. ‘Lovely chips, mate.’

  Vic gave him a broad smile. Flora rolled her eyes and pushed Vic further down the line to wrap a fish.

  Before James had a chance to argue his case about the boat, Tristram reappeared. ‘Hello all. Thought I’d grab a fish supper to take home. I take it the WI have wound up for the night.’

  Anne asked him to thank Hilda for inviting them. ‘We had a lovely evening. It was so kind of her to let us come.’

  Another burst of nagging made Tristram turn. James tugged at his sleeve.

  ‘Are they always like that?’

  He shifted on his feet. ‘I don’t think they’ll ever be anything other than that.’ He went inside and picked up two portions of fish and chips.

  Vic wrapped them in newspaper and handed them over. As he passed their table he asked James if they were going to the next parade.

  ‘Of course. Have the police arrested your wife yet?’ James said with a beaming smile.

  Tristram joined in the banter. ‘Not yet. I’ve packed her bags just in case she needs to make a quick getaway.’ He leant in. ‘The police took Hans in earlier though.’

  ‘Good lord, what on earth for?’

  He squatted down and explained that he thought they would. ‘Hans is even softer than I am where the animals are concerned. A couple of seals got caught up in Colm’s nets last week and Hans was livid. Colm put ’em back in the sea but they washed up injured.’

  ‘And what did Hans do exactly?’

  ‘Punched him good and hard.’

  ‘Oh d-dear, was that a-absolutely necessary?’

  Tristram grimaced and said he didn’t think so. ‘Colm respects the sea. If they pull in a seal or a dolphin he releases it. He says he didn’t do it on purpose. Colm took Hans on as a fisherman for a while but he had to let him go.’

  James asked why.

  ‘All manner of things. He’s a good biologist but I gather he’s not a good fisherman. Spent a lot of time being sea-sick and studying the ocean. And Colm wasn’t tolerant of Hans’ background either.’

  Tristram went on to explain that Colm’s father had been killed in a German prisoner of war camp. He held his hands up. ‘I know you shouldn’t lump everyone together but Colm is the sort of man that does.’

  ‘A great shame,’ said James. ‘Hans seems a decent chap.’

  Beth remarked that Hans didn’t seem the violent type.

  ‘You’ve only said hello to him, your Ladyship. He’s a temper on him. Don’t see it often but it’s there.’

  James asked if Hans ever had a run in with Bevis. Tristram was reluctant to go into details but suggested that Hans wasn’t keen on some of the people in the industry. ‘He knows they have to make a living but he doesn’t think they respect the other creatures in the sea.’

  Beth sympathised. ‘It must be difficult when you work with injured animals all the time.’

  ‘You’re right. You have to take a step back otherwise it’ll consume you.’

  She sat up expectantly. ‘And how is our seal doing?’

  ‘He’s eating and looking a lot happier. Why don’t you come and visit him again before you go?’

  Beth revealed they had every intention of doing so and invited Anne to come along. ‘You’ll fall in love with him.’

  ‘I say, Tristram’ James put in, ‘are you dressing up for the Knockers procession?’

  ‘Yes I am. Most of the residents get involved in this one. It’s a popular day. Knockers are the darkest characters and we love to scare the tourists half to death; but there’s lots of dancing and music too. You’ll enjoy it.’ He held his wrapped fish supper up. ‘I’d best get home before this goes cold.’ He went on his way.

  ‘Who’s that?’ said Bert.

  James, Beth and the Merryweathers updated Bert on all the locals they’d met to date and Anne and Beth described their evening at the Women’s Institute and how pleasant everyone was. Anne added that they’d been asked to speak and mentioned the fishermen’s service the WI was proposing to put on.

  ‘It really was a lovely evening.’

  James peered down to see Mark was asleep in his arms. He lowered his voice. ‘And, Beth, did you put your powers into play?’

  Anne turned to face Beth. ‘What powers?’

  ‘James told me to observe; that people give a lot away by the way they hold themselves.’

  ‘D- did you get that from Mr P-Patel?’

  James confirmed they had. Kushal Patel was a man he’d met in the spring of the previous year when working on the untimely death of an elderly villager. He worked for the government and debriefed spies on their return to the UK and assisted with psychiatric assessments for trauma. His knowledge and wisdom was endless and James knew he’d only touched the surface when discussing such things with him.

  Kushal was unique in that he took the best of Western psychology and incorporated it with the mystic Eastern philosophy and the culture he’d been brought up with. But, little tips and suggestions had served James well and he found himself observing more and more. He gestured for Beth to tell all.

  Beth expressed her personal thoughts. ‘I have to say that I found it difficult. I pushed a little too much I think – when I was asking questions. Anyway, Evelyn still had that haunted look about her and it’s my opinion that this is something that’s been with her for some years; not just the last few days. The woman doesn’t appear to have anything to smile about in spite of Hilda’s jolly hockey sticks attitude. She was careful with what she’d say, almost as if something would happen if she said the wrong thing.

  ‘And then Debra was a surprise package compared to when we saw her yesterday. No more the concerned wife worried about her husband. She was incredibly chatty, bright and confident.’

  ‘And,’ Anne added, ‘suggested that Colm and Bevis had probably got drunk and were hiding out of spite.’

  The five of them looked at one another in astonishment. James nudged his chips away. 'You didn’t manage to establish what Evelyn’s back story was I suppose?’

  ‘Sorry, sweetie, no. Evelyn wasn’t about to divulge information about herself to strangers.’

  ‘Did you speak with anyone else?’

  Anne went through their conversation with Edith. ‘She apologised for her husband’s behaviour toward you this morning.’

  ‘The apology should come from him. I didn’t take to him at all.’

  Beth reminded them that although Enoch was clearly the boss in the house, Edith didn’t seem to mind. ‘She more or less expected it and stuck up for him.’ She turned to Anne. ‘That was a little odd about her daughter though, don’t you think?’

  ‘Oooh, yes. She lives in Devon and they never see her even though she’s just in the next county. Beth told her it was only a short distance but she evaded the subject.’

  ‘She also looked a little upset. I wonder if she left under a cloud.’

  ‘P-perhaps the ogre of E-Enoch suppressed her young spirit. Youngsters these days want a bit of fr-freedom and I would imagine Enoch being strict beyond r-reason.’

  James turned to Bert who was dipping into everyone’s leftover chips. ‘You’re very quiet, Bert.’

  ‘Listening, Jimmy-boy, always listening.’

  ‘And what do you surmise by our mutterings?’

  ‘Still thinking. You’re not the only one who observes, mate.’ His suggestive laugh set everyone off.

  Stephen suggested to Anne that they ought to head back. ‘Luke and Mark are both in dreamland.’

  James gently transferred Mark across to Stephen and they bade them goodnight with plans to meet for the next procession. They had a free day the next day. The Merryweathers had pre-b
ooked a coach trip and the next parade was taking place the day after. James checked his watch and looked out to sea. Beth sat forward.

  ‘Now, what’s all this about hiring a boat?’

  ‘The light out to sea appears around eleven o’clock every night. They’re not on the horizon, they’re off the coast. It could have something to do with those kidnappings or it might just be fishermen.’

  ‘Or,’ Bert added with a spooky voice, ‘it could be the ghosts of ancient mariners to warn you of danger ahead.’

  Beth sat up with a start. ‘Ghostly mariners?’

  Bert enlightened her about the earlier conversation in the pub.

  She turned to James. ‘Are you really going out there?’

  James said he would take the boat out for fifteen minutes. ‘I made a few enquiries earlier today about who hires boats out and I have access to a nifty launch. I made out I could sail and managed to convince the girl of my expertise.’

  When learning that Bert would not set foot inside such a small launch, she insisted on going with him.

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, James. You don’t know the first thing about boats or shipping lanes. The currents could be dangerous and you may get swept out to sea. The wind is picking up even while we were sitting here; God knows what it’s like out of the harbour.’

  ‘I’m going a hundred yards offshore at the most. I’m not going beyond the bay. If you want to watch from the cliff-tops with Bert, be my guest.’

  Beth pursed her lips. ‘You either study the lights from the cliff or I go with you. Better still, we go back to the room for a nightcap.’

  Bert wrapped the leftover chips and slammed the table lightly with the palm of his hand. ‘You two need your heads banging together. You’re on ‘oliday.’ He poked a finger at James. ‘You’re like a dog with a bone. Those lights are prob’ly just fishermen.’

  ‘I don’t believe they are.’

  His friend got up. ‘Right. We all go. Come on.’

  ‘I thought you weren’t going to set foot on a boat.’

 

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