Forever Yours (39 page)

She didn’t know what she was going to do if her suspicions were right and he intended to attack the Shelton girl, she thought as she sped along. But she couldn’t just sit at home and do nothing. Constance and her grandma had been the only folk in the village who’d had a kind word for her in all the time she’d worked for Vincent, the grandma years ago and Constance recently.

She had fallen over twice by the time she drew near to the cottage; the frozen snow was like glass underfoot, a thin layer of ice coating the surface and making the ground treacherous. She heard Vincent before she saw him. He was hammering on the door of the cottage so she presumed he’d only just arrived. Sidling behind one of the big trees which bordered the lane, Polly watched and listened. A light came on downstairs, Constance had obviously lit a lamp, and a few moments later the door opened.

Polly took the opportunity to move a little closer. She was now within fifteen yards or so of the cottage and had a clear view of the doorway. Her mouth fell open as she saw the pistol in one of Constance’s hands. She was holding Jake’s collar with the other, and the big dog was emitting a low steady rumble from deep in his throat. Vincent had backed halfway down the garden path and although she couldn’t hear what Constance said, she heard his reply.

‘I’ll tell you what I’m doing here. Oh aye, I’ll tell you. There’s been a fall at the pit and your fancy man’s copped it. Didn’t know, did you, stuck out here, so I thought I’d come and give you the good news in person. Him and one of his brothers and a few others were killed.’

Again she couldn’t make out Constance’s words, but Vincent gave a mirthless bark of a laugh. ‘Whether you believe me or not it’s a fact, me fine lady. Didn’t know I knew about your carry-on, did you? Thought I was as dim as the rest of ’em round here, but you can’t fool me. All the fine clothes in the world can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, and that’s what you are, same as your mother. She was a whore an’ all.’

Now she could hear Constance when she cried, ‘You leave my mother out of this! You’re not worthy to speak her name.’

‘Is that so? Well, like I said, she was a whore an’ all, but she didn’t have your cunning, did she? She ended up marrying a pit man whereas you’ve aimed high and made it work for you. How many have had you over the years, eh? A good few, I’ll be bound. Or perhaps you were set up by just one? Whatever, you don’t get to where you are by scrubbing floors.’

He was slurring his words and as Polly watched he stumbled, righting himself immediately. The sedative had worked then, she thought, but he was still mad enough to do anything. Constance must have thought the same because her voice came shrilly: ‘You take a step nearer and I’ll fire, I swear it.’

‘Swear it, do you? Think you’ve got the guts to shoot a man? I doubt it. You’re all wind and water, like the rest of them.’

But he didn’t move any closer.

‘You get away from here with your filthy mind. You’re sick, do you know that? Dirty and twisted. And my mother was a good woman, a fine woman, which is why she wouldn’t look the side you were on. She loved my father and he loved her.’

‘Shut your mouth! You to call me filthy with what you’ve been up to. You women, you’re all the same. Sluts, all of you.’

‘I’ll shoot you if you don’t go, I will.’

‘I’m going, but you won’t always have a pistol in your hand. Remember that, me fine lady. And I can be patient. I’ve had years of practice. Your mother under-estimated me,
and
that milksop she married. They thought I was nowt but I proved them wrong.’

Polly put her hand to her mouth as he swayed again with the force of the words he was spitting out and then fell backwards, sprawling on the ground where he continued to spill his venom. ‘I saw to them an’ your granda an’ all – same as I see to anyone who crosses me. Every minute of every day you better be looking over your shoulder because your time will come. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll do for you the same as them.’

‘My parents were killed in a fire.’ Constance had taken a step towards him as she spoke, the dog still growling fit to wake the dead, and inwardly Polly shouted, ‘
Don’t go near him, that’s what he wants. Stay away!
’ ‘A house fire. Everyone knows that.’

‘And who started it? They all thought it was a clothes horse put too close to the range, but a can of oil does a better job. Aye, that’s right – you believe me now, don’t you? And your granda was easy. He was still breathing when I held him under the water. All I wanted was to know where you were, but he wasn’t having any of it. He asked for what he got, treating me like a fool.’

‘You murdered them? My parents and my granda?’

‘Ah, the penny’s dropped. Not such a joke now, am I?’

‘You devil, you! You evil, wicked devil! I— I’ll go to the Constable and tell him what you’ve told me.’

‘Ha! And who’d take your word against mine? I’m the weighman, remember? I’ve got some clout, people don’t want to get on the wrong side of me. But you! You went away into service and came back flaunting your sin in front of everyone’s noses. Who’d believe
you
? And what proof do you have? They’d laugh you out of the place. A woman’s nerves and fancies, they’d say. And when I deal with you it’ll seem like an accident, make no mistake about that. I’m good at accidents, I’ve had a lot of practice.’

His words were slow now and Polly noticed he was in no hurry to get up. Indeed, she wondered if he
could
get up, but then he heaved himself from where he’d been lying propped on one elbow to his feet and once again Constance retreated to her doorstep.

‘With your fancy man gone you’ll likely be looking around for a replacement, won’t you? I hear whores get a taste for it after a time and can’t do without it. So I’ll make it easy for you. I’ll see to it the word goes out that you’re available for business, how about that? So don’t be surprised if you have some callers of a night once it’s dark and they can’t be seen.’

‘You’re nothing but a filthy, stinking animal.’

‘Animal, you say?You hold yourself above the animal kingdom? Well, the last time I looked there was no female in the animal kingdom who put herself out for hire for a few bob or two, or in your case, a few pounds more likely.’

‘If you’re not gone in thirty seconds I’ll let go of this dog.’

Vincent fumbled in his pocket and Polly saw a flash of silver as he held up a vicious-looking knife. ‘That’d be a pity because I wouldn’t want to hurt him.’ He turned as he spoke, staggering to the open gate and into the lane where he shouted over his shoulder, ‘Keep your eyes and ears open, m’lady, because you never know which minute is going to be your last. But we’ll have a bit of fun before you join your mam, I’ve promised myself that.’

The door closed on his words and as it banged he looked round and fell over again. He lay in the lane cursing and swearing and trying to get up. The sedative had clearly knocked him for six. The amount he’d had would certainly prevent him doing any harm to Constance tonight, Polly thought, but tomorrow . . . Tomorrow was another day. Another day for Constance and another day for her. And he would be back to his old self by then.

Without thinking through what she was doing, Polly stepped out from behind the tree where she’d been hiding and walked forward. He didn’t see her for a moment or two, crouched as he was on all fours as he attempted to struggle up. Then he turned his head, and it was clear he was having difficulty focusing his eyes as he mumbled, ‘What the hell? Is that you, Polly? What are you doin’ here?’

‘I followed you.’ Her voice was quiet, soft. ‘I was worried about you. You seemed upset tonight.’

He was upright now, shaking his head as though to clear the mugginess which was fogging his brain. ‘You nosy little scut.’ His words were thick and deep and he was blinking like an owl. ‘But now you’re here you can make yourself useful. I must be sick, I’m going down with something.’

‘I’ll help you.’ She went over to him and then her legs nearly buckled as he put his arm round her shoulders and his body draped itself on hers. He was a dead weight.

‘Get me home,’ he muttered dully. ‘I need me bed.’

She said nothing, but as they began to stagger along she saw his eyes were closed and he seemed to be walking in his sleep. Some hundred yards or so from the cottage she had seen a gap in the hedgerow. If she could just get him to there without him knowing . . .

Somehow she managed it. Vincent was more than twice her weight and her back was breaking when she saw the opening. She didn’t pause as she led him to it. She didn’t pause as they walked to the edge of the old quarry. And she didn’t pause as she twisted herself free of him an infinitesimal moment before she pushed him over the edge with all her might.

It was a sheer drop and a long way down. She thought she heard a muffled scream, like someone wakening from a nightmare, but then a dull thud sounded far, far beneath her.

Polly closed her eyes and tried to steady her shaking limbs and then, terrified she’d slip herself on the icy ground, she lay down and wriggled to the edge of the rock and peered over. The moonlight was bright, reflecting off the white landscape all around but it was a moment or two before she saw him. He was lying spreadeagled in the snow at the bottom of the quarry and he wasn’t moving, a black starfish against the pale background.

She was trembling so much it was a moment or two before she could sit up, and then she sat for some minutes until the quivering in her muscles subsided before she looked again. It was another ten minutes before she wriggled to a safe distance and stood up, and then she retraced her footsteps and began walking home.

She had almost reached the bottom of the lane when round a curve a dark figure appeared. Stifling a scream, her hand to her mouth, she stood stock still. The relief she felt when she saw it wasn’t Vincent almost made her wet her drawers.

But of course it couldn’t be him, she told herself weakly in the next moment. Vincent was at the bottom of the quarry and that’s where he’d stay, and she didn’t believe in ghosts. She couldn’t move for a second or so, however.

Matt glanced at the thin wisp of a woman as he approached her. It was McKenzie’s housekeeper.What on earth was she doing out in the dead of night and here of all places? He stopped as he reached her. She looked scared to death and he made his voice gentle and reassuring when he said, ‘You all right, lass? Is there owt wrong?’

‘No, no. I – I was just – just taking a walk.’

‘A walk, lass?’

‘I couldn’t sleep.You – you’re Matt Heath, aren’t you? Do you know if all the men are up yet after the fall?’

‘Aye, they’re up.’

She nodded, turning quickly away and continuing down the lane as he stood looking after her for a moment or two.

Then Matt swung round, his footsteps quickening as he walked until he was almost running towards Appleby Cottage.

Constance had got dressed immediately after she had shut the door on Vincent. Now she paced the sitting room wondering what to do. She had to find out what had happened to Matt. She didn’t think Vincent had been lying, but she had to make sure. But was it a trap? Was he waiting for her out there, hoping she’d take his bait? There had been murder in his eyes, that was for sure.

Oh, Matt, Matt, don’t be dead.
Her face deathly white, she wrung her hands together while Jake, beside himself at her distress and the earlier confrontation, whined and pawed at her skirts.

There could have been a fall at the pit and she wouldn’t have known. She’d had no need to go out for the last couple of days and had only taken Jake for a walk down the lane to Tan Hills Wood and back. She hadn’t seen a soul.

Should she wait for first light before going to the village? It would be safer. And she could take Jake with her, along with the firearm. But could she endure a night of not knowing? No, she had to go now. But what if Vincent had been lying and there’d been no accident at the pit? She’d look ridiculous turning up in the middle of the night at Matt’s mam’s if nothing had happened. How would she explain that? But what did looking ridiculous matter if the worst
had
happened? So her thoughts continued to race as she walked up and down, her stomach churning and her mind spinning.

When the knock came at the door, Jake went berserk. Bounding into the hall, he threw himself against the wood snarling ferociously, determined that this time he wasn’t going to be thwarted in dealing with the stranger who had frightened his mistress. Constance’s heart was thudding as she picked up the pistol once more. She walked over to the window and peered out, and then mortally offended Jake by dashing into the hall and grabbing his thick leather collar, dragging him unceremoniously into the sitting room and shutting the door on his barking.

When she opened the front door and flung her arms round Matt’s neck he was too taken aback to move for a moment, then he was holding her tight as he tried to soothe her incoherent sobbing. In the end he whisked her up in his arms and walked into the house, slamming the door shut with his foot. From the sounds coming from within the sitting room he didn’t think it would be a good idea to open the door, so he continued down the hall to the kitchen, but when he attempted to put Constance down she clung the tighter to him so he sat down in one of the big armchairs either side of the range with her on his knee.

It was a full minute before her storm of weeping lessened to hiccupping sobs, and only when she was calmer did he say bemusedly, ‘I never expected this welcome.’

‘He – he said – he said you were dead.’

‘Who said I was dead?’

‘And he wanted to kill me like he did my mam and da, my – my granda too, but I had a pistol and Jake was growling . . .’

Matt had stiffened and he eased her away from him so he could look at her, his face full of concern now. ‘Constance, slow down. What’s happened and who are we talking about?’