Three Times Removed

by M K Jones

  “Must be nearly lunchtime, I guess,” Maggie said to Alice as they walked.

  “Probably takes them all morning to get out here and back. Hope I can still walk when I’m old. Will I look like that one day?”

  “If you get to be ninety-seven, probably, yes.”

  “I’m glad I came. She was a bit scary, though. Don’t you think?”

  They reached the car and Maggie opened the doors to let out some of the heat. “Wow, it’s really hot today. No, I don’t think she was scary. She knows something about our girl, that’s clear. Some kind of family scandal, maybe.”

  “I thought it was a bit scary. Why did she know you’d come?”

  “Well, she probably remembered what the nurse told her. Old people can have problems with their memory, you know. They can remember loads about the past, as if it was yesterday, but often forget things that happened a couple of days ago, or even minutes. But, doesn’t it just confirm how much I must look like my great-grandmother? It feels strange to meet someone who can actually remember the people that I’ve been researching. It really brings them to life.”

  “I didn’t think that was what she meant,” Alice said as they drove off.

  Fifty Two

  When she got home Maggie phoned Zelah to give her an account of the visit.

  “So, I was right about the missing child! They never found her,” Zelah exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Maggie replied. “And it looks like there was definitely something not right about it. I mean, why else would Louisa have been told not to talk about it, that it would stir up ‘bad old things’. And what was she supposed to be careful about? How on earth do I find out more about this?”

  “Do you want to?”

  “Yes, I do. I’ve calmed down. I thought it over when we were away. We all talked about what to do and the kids think I should carry on. I’ve promised Alice that I’ll be around more to help with her school problem, but I can’t stop this now. Not until I find out the whole story.”

  “Good. What’s next, then?”

  “Well, I’m going back on Thursday to see Louisa again. See if she can remember any more details. Zelah, can you take a look at the papers again, see if there was anything reported at the time? Surely if a child went missing, even then, there must have been a search.”

  “I’ll give it a go. Call me after your visit on Thursday. ’Bye.”

  By Thursday midday, when she set off for the nursing home, Maggie hadn’t heard anything from Zelah. She was alone this time as Alice had opted for a visit to the coast with her friends.

  Nurse Crowley met her again at the reception desk and told her that Louisa had expressed a wish to go out into the walled garden.

  “She doesn’t get outside often these days, so it’ll be nice for her to sit out for a while. Not long, mind. She can’t concentrate for very long, you saw that on Tuesday.”

  “That’s fine, I don’t want to upset her.”

  “Quite the opposite!” the nurse responded as they reached the room. “She really enjoyed seeing you. She’s remembered a lot since. Oh, and we looked through the photographs, too. And put names to some of them.”

  “That’s wonderful!”

  Louisa was waiting in a wheelchair, a shawl over her shoulders. As Maggie approached she reached out and grabbed her arm with a surprisingly strong grasp, smiling up at her.

  “Hello again, Margaret.”

  Maggie bent over and kissed her wrinkled cheek. “How lovely to see you, Louisa. You look well today. Nurse Crowley tells me we’re going to the garden.”

  “Bit of fresh air. Do me good. Keep me awake, she says!” She cackled a throaty ha-ha at the nurse.

  Together they went out to the walled garden. It was a pretty space with beds of bright flowers, a neatly cut lawn and a small tree at the centre sheltering a wooden bench. The high red-brick wall separated them from the main garden, accessible through a wooden door. Maggie could see that two other bedrooms also led into the garden.

  “How long have you lived here, Louisa?” Maggie asked as they settled her under the tree and she and the nurse sat on the bench.

  “About five years. When Sidney died I managed on my own for a while. Then I fell and broke my hip. Couldn’t manage after that. Sold up and came here.”

  “It’s a lovely place.”

  “I like to have my own things around me. They allow it here. Lots don’t.”

  “You and Sidney must have been married a long time?”

  “Seventy-five years nearly,” Louisa replied. Maggie saw a tear in the corner of one eye. “Not a day goes by I don’t miss him. Heart attack. Here one day, gone the next.”

  Maggie put her hand on Louisa’s trempling hand. “It’s wonderful to hear about people so happily married, especially these days.”

  “Do you have a husband, Margaret?”

  “He died. In a motorbike accident.”

  “That’s sad, my dear. Sad for that little girl, too.”

  “And my son,” Maggie added. “I have a boy of fifteen. He misses his dad. But they’re both good kids.”

  “We had a boy. Died when he was five. Diphtheria. Our Christopher. Didn’t think Sidney would get over it. Near grieved himself to death. Nana helped us. She understood.” Louisa was gazing down at her hands.

  Nurse Crowley leaned across to Maggie. “She’s never mentioned this before,” she whispered.

  “You must have been devastated,” Maggie spoke gently to Louisa. “But it was good that you had someone there to help you.”

  “She told me she lost her first baby, born dead, ahead of his due time. Then her next one went missing when she was ten. Then Uncle Evan went off to the war and got his arms blown off. Nana thought he was going to die. But she saved him. Her babies made her sick, she told me. Nearly died herself a couple of times.”

  “I believe she was a remarkable woman,” Maggie said, smiling at her.

  “But strong, she was. Lived till she was eighty-two. She was waiting, too, she told me. But I never knew what for. Right after that visitor, it was. That woman who turned up on the day she died.” Louisa was staring into space again, “Never said who it was. Probably didn’t matter. Died later that day. They sold the house after that, my parents. Your house now.” She grinned approvingly at Maggie.

  “I found her grave,” Maggie said. “She’s buried with her husband, John, in the cemetery in Garth Hill.”

  “That’s right! I’d forgotten that.”

  “It was a bit overgrown, so I’ve cleaned it up. It’s a beautiful monument.”

  “I’m going to be with my Sidney and Christopher. I’ve told that solicitor, and Nurse.” She reached out for Maggie’s hand. “Make sure I’m with them, won’t you?”

  “Of course,” Maggie replied. “Louisa, is there anything else you can tell me about Ruth’s child who went missing? Did she die?”

  Louisa sighed. “She went after her friend died. Something very wrong about it, Nana said. Nana never believed that her girl was dead. All the others did, though. My mother and Uncle William and Uncle Walter. She told me.”

  She leaned forwards and whispered in Maggie’s ear. “When granddad died, she went to find out what happened. She believed something had frightened her girl away. And she was right! They didn’t like it, mind, her going about like that. Wasn’t seemly. Said she was imagining things. But they were wrong and she was right.”

  “What?” Maggie exclaimed. “You mean, she found out something?”

  “Oh yes. She found out what it was. Told us to be careful… for our children. She was frightened, was Nana. Scared it might come back, again. She told me things.” She began to breathe heavily.

  “Quietly now, Mrs Jenkins. Don’t upset yourself,” said the nurse, concerned.

  “Needs to be told. Have to tell her. I can’t remember… but she said important not to be afraid. It needs your fear. Waiting for you. Ninety-seven now! I’m so tired.” Louisa was sobbing now and the nurse looked alarmed.

  “Tim
e to go back in, I think.” It was a rebuke to Maggie. She pushed the wheelchair back into the room and the nurse got Louisa into her bed. “Time for a sleep.”

  “No!” The nurse’s head shot up in surprise at the emphatic shout from the old lady. “She needs to know. Nana said. It’ll come back. Mind out for Alice,” she whispered to Maggie.

  Maggie hovered uncertainly, desperate for Louisa to keep talking but not wanting to cause distress. Caution won out.

  “Louisa, I’m going to sit in the foyer until you feel better. I’d like to talk to you about the photographs, too. I’ll come back shortly.”

  In the foyer, Maggie got herself a glass of water and wondered how she was going to get Louisa to talk without causing more upset. Clearly, there was much more to this and Louisa had vital information. But the old woman’s frail condition made it risky. She could find out slowly, over a series of visits. After ten or so minutes Nurse Crowley appeared again.

  “I can’t have you upsetting her, Mrs Gilbert,” she began sternly, “but she’s determined to speak to you again, so you’d better come back in. But please be careful.”

  Louisa was sitting up in bed.

  “Are you feeling better now?” Maggie asked tentatively.

  “I’m very well. Just a bit tired. About those photographs. Told Nurse who they were, the ones I knew, and she wrote the names on them.”

  Maggie sat down next to the bed, took the envelope and checked the back of the photos. Louisa had confirmed what she suspected, the photograph that looked like herself was Ruth. Louisa had identified her own parents, her sister and one of her brothers.

  “Went in the war, did Elwyn.” She softly stroked the photograph. “Blown up by a shell in France. Only recognised him because he’s the image of my father.”

  Maggie looked at the photo of a young man, taken at a beach outing in 1915, when he would have been around fourteen, with a group of laughing boys and girls.

  “Would you like to keep this, Louisa?”

  The old woman looked up through misty eyes. “Yes, I would.” She took the photograph from Maggie and gazed at it.

  “So much I can’t remember now. It was important. She said you’d come,” she muttered quietly to herself. Within a few minutes she had fallen asleep, the photo still in her hands.

  “Take the rest of them,” the nurse whispered. “I’ve put names on the back where she knew them. Time to go, now.”

  Maggie took Louisa’s hand. “Look at her smiling in her sleep! She looks so peaceful.”

  She gently placed her hand on the bedcover and walked to the door, whispering to the nurse. “I’m so pleased I’ve found her. I’ll come back next week. In fact, I’ll come every week.”

  “That would be lovely,” beamed the nurse, closing the bedroom door.

  Later that evening, after she had collected Alice and they’d had a barbeque in the garden, Maggie sat at the window watching the sunset over the mountain, piecing together the information from Louisa.

  “Something bad happened to your girl, Ruth,” she murmured to the window. “Your granddaughter Louisa told me. I went to see her. She’s ninety-five now. I’ll find out, somehow. I got your warning. She’s so very frail but she waited. For me. Someone told her I was coming. I don’t understand how but I think – somehow - it was you.”

  Fifty Three

  Alice had been particularly difficult on Sunday, whining that she didn’t feel well and being unusually rude. She had refused to eat all day, blaming an upset stomach and then, at bedtime, had burst into tears. She sent Alice to bed but sat with her for a while, talking to the uncommunicative lump under the duvet.

  “I’ll be coming in with you, like we agreed. I’m going to speak to Mr Rees. He’s a nice man and he’s always been very positive about your behaviour and your work. He knows you don’t cheat.” After another long silence, she said, “unless you don’t want me to, of course. I could just not come and leave it up to you, if you’d prefer.”

  The bedclothes shuffled slightly. “But they’ll believe the teacher.”

  “Why do you think so?”

  “Because she’s a grown-up and I’m just a kid and no-one takes a kid’s word against a teacher.”

  Maggie considered. There was truth in this. “Well, maybe so. But they should hear the truth, then it’s up to them to believe it or not. Maybe that’s the best we can do, but I think it’s better than doing nothing.”

  A short pause, then “OK.”

  The following morning Alice had dark circles under her eyes and got ready in moody silence. Throughout the ride to school she only grunted in response to questions and remarks by Maggie and Jack, and by the time they arrived and Jack took himself off for the short walk to his school, Maggie was exasperated.

  She walked beside a foot-scraping Alice to the classroom door. Mr Rees was already at his desk and welcomed Alice with a smile. He looked surprised when she put her head down and went to her desk without speaking. Maggie went through what had happened at the end of the half term.

  “I can understand why you’re unhappy, Mrs Gilbert. And I agree that Alice has always been a pleasure to have in the classroom. I say it and I mean it. There should be a report on the incident, so I’ll check it out and get back to you.”

  She nodded thanks to him and was going to leave, but he spoke again. “The teaching assistant was a little harsh, maybe. But discipline is important. Some children can take advantage when their regular teacher isn’t here. Anyway, she can’t be with us this week. Family problems, I believe.” He lowered his voice and nodded imperceptibly in Alice’s direction. “Leave it to me. She’ll be fine by the end of the day.”

  Feeling relieved, Maggie thanked him, smiled briefly at Alice, and left the school. On the way out she bumped into the mother of one of Alice’s friends and explained why she was there, curious to find out if there had been any similar experience. She was surprised by the vehemence of the reply.

  “So, that woman’s gone, eh? Good riddance, I say. My Janine hated her.” She put a hand on Maggie’s arm. “Nothing changes much, does it? There’s always one!”

  Maggie smiled at her and went back to the car.

  Over the weekend, she had finally got around to buying the family history software that Zelah had recommended, and spent the day entering in everyone that she had discovered, distracted occasionally by the pouring rain. By the time she was ready to collect the children, she had a complete family tree printed out.

  As Mr Rees had promised, Alice was in much better spirits. Maggie could see her and Jack chatting animatedly at the gate under their shared umbrella as she drove up, and they jumped into the car still talking.

  “Good day?”

  “Fine thanks!” they both replied and she was satisfied with that.

  Later that evening Zelah rang to say that she had found “interesting” information, but wouldn’t elaborate, saying that she was going out and had to hurry.

  “Don’t ask me now. I’ll come round tomorrow morning, if that’s OK. ’Bye then,” and rang off without waiting for Maggie to agree.

  But the next morning brought no sign of her. At eleven o’clock Maggie was about to call, when the phone rang.

  “Mrs Gilbert? It’s Nurse Crowley, from Goldendays.”

  “Oh, hello. Sorry, I was expecting a friend to call. I was planning to come on Thursday, is that OK?”

  “No, I’m afraid not, Mrs Gilbert.” The nurse had lowered her voice and Maggie’s heart pounded.

  “Is anything the matter?” she asked, trying to sound hopeful, but sickly anticipating what was coming.

  “Mrs Jenkins died yesterday morning, I’m so very sorry to have to tell you. In her sleep, quite peacefully.”

  Maggie shoulders sagged. “I see. Thank you for letting me know.” She sat down on the chair next to the telephone.

  “The funeral will be on Friday. At St Cadoc’s church, followed by the interment. You know her wishes on that. Might you be able to attend?”

  �
��Of course, I’ll be there,” Maggie replied immediately. “What time?”

  “Ten thirty. Thank you, Mrs Gilbert. I’m so sorry.”

  Fifty Four

  June 1909

  “These are only my thoughts for now, you understand.”

  Richard Robinson slowly nodded agreement and, with a sense of relief, Ruth gathered her thoughts.

  “I have spent so much time thinking, considering. All the time John was ill, I thought. Ever since he died, I have thought. At last, I believe I’m close to the truth.

  “Now, I know that you remember Alice, and you know that she was a good girl, not given to truly bad acts. Well, from the time the new schoolteacher, Miss Probert, arrived she seemed to pick out Alice for her disapproval.

  “On the day that Esme Ellis died, we were told that Alice had been kept behind at school, which she was angry about because she had arranged to meet Esme at The Pond. She was supposed to have been insolent to Miss Probert. But I don’t think that was the case. I don’t think she was kept behind at all. I think she and Esme went to The Pond together, at the invitation of Miss Probert. It is my belief that another child, probably one of the Morris girls, probably Elsie, told Alice that Miss Probert wanted to meet with Alice in a quiet place. Something that Bessie Morris said made me think that the Morrises were more involved and knew more than they admitted to. But Alice and Esme formed a plan to fool Miss Probert by having Esme put on Alice’s hat and coat and wait by The Pond, out on the platform, whilst Alice stood watching from the wood.”

  She saw his eyes widen in surprise but she couldn’t be interrupted now. “You’re going to ask how I know this. I don’t know for sure. But I do know that Alice’s description of how she was supposed to have found Esme didn’t make sense. I went there myself. It couldn’t have happened like she said. And at one point, our dear Lord forgive me, I thought Alice might have accidentally pushed Esme into the water herself!

  “But then there was the question of the wound on Essy’s head. I knew that Alice would not have done that. They were great friends, as you know.” She paused and he nodded, silent while she concentrated.