At last we arrived at the cliff top, and Ormerod stopped the motor. The silence was wonderful, broken only by the mewing of the kittiwakes as they went their graceful ways, landing and taking off from the rocks beneath us.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it, Miss Emma?’ said Ormerod.
He was taking a pair of long waders from the back of the motor car. I observed this with a touch of dismay. So he was coming.
‘I gather you are coming with us?’ I said.
He observed me with a twinkle in his eye.
‘Well, miss, that’s not easy to say,’ he said, in a tone that I can only describe as devious. ‘Of course, I have to come out with you, that’s only proper.’
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ I replied without enthusiasm.
‘And I brought these waders along because someone is going to have to push the boat out, and moreover, I’ll be able to put thee aboard without thee getting wet.’
‘Yes?’ I said, for he obviously had not finished.
‘Well, Miss Emma,’ he continued. ‘After I get thee aboard, I go round and give the coble a mighty heave, I’m pretty strong thou knows, and I might just push that coble so far that I’m not able to get in myself.’ He grinned at me.
‘Ormerod, you are very wicked,’ I replied, smiling. ‘But thank you.’
‘Now, miss, if I’m going to do this we’d better wait up here until Mr. Attwood has got her properly beached, otherwise it might be too easy and we might both end up in the boat.’
How sweet of him, I thought, but then Ormerod always seemed to know how I felt about everything.
As I looked out over the water to see if I could catch sight of Roger, a slight wave of nausea swept over my body, so I sat down on the grass near the cliff edge. I supposed that the tensions of the last few days and the lack of sleep last night had left me feeling fairly fragile both in mind and body. However, I was not going to worry. I was pretty sure that I would feel much better once I got out onto the sea with Roger.
I scanned the water through my glasses, and just rounding Ness Point I picked up a small red coble under sail. It had a single occupant.
‘Ormerod,’ I called, ‘do you know the colour of Mr. Attwood’s boat?’
‘Red, miss,’ replied Ormerod. ‘Can you see him?’
‘He’s just rounded Ness Point,’ I replied.
‘Then he’ll be some time yet,’ said Ormerod, who had begun to tinker about inside the engine of the motor car.
So, that was Roger in the little red boat. I could see the spot for which he was making, and as he was having to tack, sailing into the offshore breeze, I estimated that it would take him at least a quarter of an hour to get there. I was quite glad of this, as it gave me time to relax before descending the wooden steps which zigzagged their way down the cliff face.
I watched the boat for a while until I could recognize Roger. He did not look up at all. He seemed intent on managing his sail and bringing his craft into the beach, where he would, no doubt, run her onto the soft sand.
Soon the nausea passed, and I started to enjoy the view. I looked around the bay and tried to pick up familiar detail. It was while I was doing this that, just to the right of the spot for which Roger was making, I saw the seal. It was a very young seal, for there were still quite large patches of brown fur among the adult grey. It was lying half in and half out of a small pool among the rocks, its head swaying slightly as it seemed to watch the approaching coble. I wondered whether or not it would stay there when Roger got close. I assumed that if the seal stayed where it was, Roger could not miss seeing it.
Roger had now sailed past the point where the seal lay and was coming about so that he could sail up to the beach with the wind on his port side. The seal seemed to watch him as he turned the boat to pass the rocks for the second time. I turned round to tell Ormerod that Roger was nearly in, but he seemed to be very busy with the motor, so I did not disturb him.
Looking back to the shore, I saw that Roger had by then passed the rocks and that the seal was still there. Roger dropped his sail and grabbed the tiller, pointing the boat directly toward the sand. In a moment he had grounded with his bows well clear of the water. It must have been just about low tide, and the water had become so calm that there was no risk of the boat drifting out.
Roger leapt out over the bow, and it was than that I realized that he had seen the seal. He made his way slowly in the direction of the rock where the animal lay. The seal had seen his approach and put its head down as though trying to appear as part of the rock on which it sat. I wondered at the time why it was that it made no attempt to escape to the sea, which was only a few yards away.
Roger was now on his hands and knees, creeping very slowly toward the seal. Though Roger could not have been more than three yards from it, still the seal did not move. Even when Roger stood up, it made no attempt whatsoever to get away.
Roger walked quite deliberately to where the seal was lying. He seemed to be examining it; I think he even touched it as he moved around it. The seal lay there quite motionless.
Suddenly, Roger straightened up and made his way back to the sand and started to walk up the beach. When he reached the high water line, marked by its usual collection of seaweed and flotsam, he stopped and started to follow it. What could he be doing, I wondered. I had thought him to be on his way to the stairs, but that was obviously not his intention. I suppose that at that point I should have called Ormerod and started down, but I was so intrigued by Roger’s actions that I did not think of moving.
Roger stopped, picked something up, and then discarded it and continued on his way. So he was looking for something, but what? By now I found his actions most puzzling.
At last he seemed to see what he wanted, for he took a few quick strides, bent down, and pulled up what appeared to be a large piece of driftwood half buried in the sand. It must have been about three feet long and as thick as one of the beams in the dining room at Goathlands.
I wondered for what possible reason he could want such an instrument. He examined it quite carefully, took it in both hands, and swung it a couple of times. Then he started to walk purposefully down the beach toward the seal.
I rose to my feet. What on earth could he be doing, I asked myself. He was now walking toward the rock where the seal lay. I began to wonder if perhaps the seal had got stuck and Roger wanted to use the piece of driftwood as a lever in order to free the animal. I held my field glasses to my eyes as Roger approached the seal. He stopped, standing just behind the creature’s head, and then, to my horror, he raised the huge piece of wood and brought it crashing down on the poor innocent animal’s head.
For a moment I was too stunned and horrified to move, and then as he raised his club for the second time, I dropped my glasses, my hands flew to my face, and I started to stagger toward the cliff edge.
‘No! No! No!’ I screamed, totally unaware that my steps were taking me closer and closer to that sheer drop of over a hundred feet.
I must have been almost at the cliff edge ‒ another pace would have taken me over and into the void ‒ when strong hands grasped me from behind and flung me to safety.
In my tense and overwrought state, I had been crushed by the sight of Roger’s cruelty toward the seal. This was the final straw. I lay where I fell, sobbing hysterically.
‘No, no,’ I moaned through my tears. ‘Not Roger, dear God, don’t let it be him.’
Ormerod was kneeling on the grass beside me.
‘What is it, Miss Emma? What happened?’ There was a catch in his voice as he spoke.
‘Let me go, Ormerod,’ I pleaded. ‘Please let me go. I’ve got to get away from here.’
‘Don’t worry, lass,’ he said. ‘I’m going to take thee home. This is for wiser heads than mine to sort out. Come on and let me get thee into the motor car.’
‘I don’t want to go home,’ I cried. ‘Don’t you understand, I can’t go home. I haven’t got a home.’
‘I reckon thou’s not well, Miss E
mma,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t want thee to hold this against me, but I’m taking thee home, even if I have to tie thee into the car. Come, lass, I’ll help thee in.’
In my dazed condition I was quite incapable of any form of resistance. Ormerod picked me up as if I had been no more than a child and deposited me in the passenger seat. As he went to start the motor I made a move to get out.
‘Don’t try it, Miss Emma. I meant it. I’ll tie thee in if thou tries to get away.’
I collapsed back into the seat, numbed with the horror of what I had seen. In my mind I saw again the raised club and the ferocious blow as it crushed the life out of one of God’s creatures. A man who could do that was capable of anything. That it had to be Roger, Roger whom I believed to be my friend, Roger to whom only an hour ago, I would gladly have given my heart. I tried to think only of the way in which he had rescued me not twenty-four hours before. But had it been a rescue? Might not he have been the one who started that fire, intending not so much to harm my body but rather to terrorize me, to drive me insane?
The doubts and the evil of what surrounded me were too much. I was even beyond tears as I stared blankly at the road ahead while Ormerod drove grimly back to Goathlands.
Chapter Seventeen
I remember only vaguely our arrival at the house. I sat in the motor car, stunned and stupefied. I remember voices calling to me. Finally someone, I think it was Ormerod, carried me to my room. Then, somehow, I was in bed. Then there was Letty, standing by my bed and holding a glass containing some sort of liquid. She put her arm round my shoulders and raised me to a sitting position. She held the glass to my lips. I think I tried to protest, but the will to fight was no longer in me, and I drank the evil-tasting draught. After that there must have been a period of blessed oblivion, for I remember nothing at all.
How long I lay there, I had no means of knowing. All I did know was that when consciousness returned, I was dimly aware that I was not alone in the room. I opened my eyes and tried to raise my head; it proved to be quite an effort. A woman came to the side of the bed and looked down at me. She was a total stranger.
‘Miss Waldron.’
‘Who are you?’ I breathed in reply as she bent over me to catch my words.
‘I am Nurse O’Dowd. Dr. Harrison engaged me to look after you.’
‘I don’t want Dr. Harrison,’ I said.
‘Of course you don’t,’ she said appeasingly. ‘Now, is there anything I can get for you? A little broth perhaps? Do you know you have not eaten for forty-eight hours?’
Forty-eight hours, two days out of my life. What had happened to me? Fear gripped me as I struggled back to consciousness.
‘I do not want to see Dr. Harrison,’ I said again. ‘Must I see her?’
‘Now try and stay calm, Miss Waldron,’ the nurse said, not answering my question. ‘You have had a very severe shock. We are not aware of what caused it or what it was, but you became quite hysterical and doctor had to keep you sedated for some little time.’ She pulled the bell rope by my bed. ‘And now,’ she continued, ‘I think it is time for you to take a little nourishment. You must be very weak, and we want to get your strength back, do we not?’
Letty came in and stood solemnly at the door.
‘Ah, Letty,’ said Nurse. ‘I should like you to bring Miss Waldron a bowl of beef broth and to inform Dr. Harrison that she is awake.’
‘Yes, nurse,’ replied Letty. ‘Please, Miss Emma, are you feeling better? We’ve been ever so worried about you.’
I nodded to Letty and tried to smile my thanks for her solicitude. She gave me a little smile in reply and went out.
In a few moments she returned with a cup of steaming broth. I sipped it gratefully, and with each mouthful I became more aware of my surroundings and my mind became clearer.
‘Please, Nurse,’ said Letty, turning to her. ‘Dr. Harrison will be up in a moment.’
‘Thank you, Letty,’ replied the nurse. ‘I think you had better get off to bed now.’
Letty smiled at me. ‘I’ll be back this evening, miss,’ she said.
‘What did she mean about coming back this evening?’
I asked after Letty had left.
‘Letty sits with you during the night,’ replied Nurse. ‘She is on duty from nine o’clock in the evening until nine o’clock in the morning when I take over.’
I did not reply. The germ of an idea had entered my mind and I wanted time to think about it. I could count on Letty. I had to get away from Goathlands, and through my still befogged mind I was beginning to see a way.
‘Is Letty alone with me all night?’ I asked.
‘That’s right,’ replied the nurse. ‘Of course, if you need anything or she is worried about anything, she would call either Dr. Harrison or myself.’
At that moment Dr. Harrison walked in, and instinctively I shrank from her presence. Even though I told myself that I had nothing to fear from her now, I still found her a very frightening person.
‘Well, Miss Waldron,’ she said in her soft low voice. ‘I am glad to see you taking a little nourishment. You have been quite ill, and here I must confess that, apart from insuring that you were kept quiet, I have been able to do very little. I can only prescribe rest and nourishment for you. I have asked another doctor to come over from York and have a look at you. He will be arriving this afternoon and will come up for a little chat. In the meantime, I would like you to continue to rest. Sleep if you can, and if you want anything in the way of food, do not hesitate to ask for it.’ She turned to the nurse. ‘I think we had better just leave her until Doctor Wilson has had a chance to make his own diagnosis.’
Dr. Harrison nodded to the nurse, who followed her out into my sitting room. I could hear their voices, low in conversation. I must confess that I strained to hear what they were saying but was unable to make out the words.
The details of my plan were beginning to form in my mind. Since one of the things I would want was all the knowledge I could muster, I would have no hesitation about eavesdropping whenever the opportunity arose. I wanted to discuss the whole thing with Letty. If Letty was to have sole charge of me through the night, I should be able to use that time to attain my objective. Letty was the only one of whose loyalty I was certain. If I was going to do this, I would need to get all the rest I could get during the day in order to be fresh at night when she was on duty.
Nurse came back into the bedroom carrying a bunch of roses.
‘Here’s a present for you, Miss Waldron,’ she said.
‘How lovely.’ I smiled. ‘Whom are they from?’
‘There’s a card, I’ll read it to you,’ she replied. ‘ “Get well soon, please may I call on you”, and it is signed “Roger”.’
Roger! What was he up to now? Gloating over the fact that he had succeeded? Oh, how foolish one can be. I wanted so much to take the flowers and press them to my bosom, but even as I looked at them, I saw again the raised club, the figure diving through the smoke, the only person within a mile of that fire. The roses became repulsive in my sight.
‘Put them in the other room, Nurse,’ I said. ‘I do not want to see anyone. I would rather not be disturbed, if you can arrange that. And now, if you don’t mind, I should like to sleep.’
‘Very good, Miss Waldron,’ she replied. ‘I shall be in the sitting room. There is a handbell by your bed. If you want me, just ring.’
She left, and I lay back on my pillows and tried to relax.
I must have slept very soundly, for the next thing I was aware of was Nurse bending over me saying that she was sorry to disturb me, but the doctor had arrived.
A tall, grey-haired, distinguished-looking man was standing at the foot of the bed. This, I presumed, must be Dr. Wilson. Dr. Harrison was standing at his side, and both of them were looking at me intently.
‘Now then,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you would like to tell me all about it.’
‘All about what?’ I demanded.
‘You have been through
a great emotional strain, and we are trying to find out why.’
‘I don’t want to discuss anything,’ I replied. ‘I am very tired and I want to go to sleep.’
‘Come, come, Miss Waldron,’ he said. ‘Just answer one or two questions and I shall be glad to leave you alone. Supposing you start by telling me about your teddy bear. Where is it, by the way?’
That beastly teddy bear again. Suddenly I began to realize what was happening. The suave professional manner, the questions couched in almost childish terms; they thought I was mad. Well, even if that was so, I had no intention of assisting them in their task.
‘I am certainly not going to talk about anything so childish as teddy bears,’ I snapped. ‘Will you please all go away and leave me alone. I don’t think that either of you have any right to treat me against my will.’
The doctors glanced at each other.
‘I think it might be better if we retired to the other room and discussed the whole question with Sir Joshua,’ said Dr. Wilson.
So Uncle Josh was here as well. I sat up in my bed biting my lip, waiting to see what they would do.
‘Just as you say, doctor,’ replied Dr. Harrison. ‘Nurse.’
The three of them trooped out, closing the door behind them. In a flash I was out of the bed and had my ear glued to the door. I could only make out snatches of their conversation, but I managed to get the gist of what they were saying. Dr. Wilson seemed all for removing me from Goathlands and into his ‘clinic’, as he called it, though I got the feeling that his so-called clinic was likely to prove to be some sort of asylum. Uncle Joshua seemed to object to this, saying things such as, ‘It is much too early to make such a decision.’ I was unable to decipher anything that Dr. Harrison said; her soft voice was too low to penetrate the thick oaken panels of the door.
Uncle Joshua said, ‘I am going to have a word with her alone, and I don’t want to be interrupted.’
As he spoke I rushed back to my bed and was just pulling up the blankets when the door opened and Uncle Josh came in. I looked at him intently, though it was impossible to make an estimate of his feelings; his poor face was quite incapable of expressing any emotion.
Mistress of the Moor: A gripping gothic romance mystery Page 16
