Read Moorcroft - the Possession: Book One of the Moorcroft Trilogy Online

Authors: Sandra Callister

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Paranormal

Moorcroft - the Possession: Book One of the Moorcroft Trilogy (16 page)

BOOK: Moorcroft - the Possession: Book One of the Moorcroft Trilogy
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John stood up with his back to the fire. “Before you talk to Richard, I had a phone call from Reg Phillips yesterday complaining over the fences.”

“I don’t blame him, I had a look this morning and they are down in a few places, they will have to be a priority.”

“Before you do that I’ll tell you what Reg said, see what you think. He said, and I quote, “Get those bloody fences fixed or sell me the land and I’ll do the bloody thing myself.” unquote.”

“Are you suggesting we sell the farm to him?”

John nodded. “Why not, I think it’s a good idea and it will put a few more coppers in the pot. What do you think Charles?”

Charles had been watching John over the last few months, watching a good man drink himself into oblivion, now hearing the eagerness in his voice it suddenly dawned on him what John’s problem was.

“John, tell me to mind my own business, but do we have money problems, is that why you want to sell the farm?”

Shaken John stood upright. “Don’t go jumping to conclusion, my boy. A lot of my money is tied up at the moment and some ready cash would just come in handy.”

“Well, it’s fine by me. Do you want me to run it by Richard?”

“Good idea, but make out it’s your suggestion, he’ll think better on it then.”

“Whatever you say, now if we are finished I’ll go and see how the boy is doing.”

Left alone John lent on the fireplace and looked into the flames. If this sale goes through quickly there will be no need to talk to Emily about their financial situation, at least not yet.

 

 

####

 

CHAPTER 9
 

 

 

That afternoon the police came knocking at the door. Mr Howard showed them into the drawing room and went in search of Charles. He found him in the kitchen talking to the scruffy boy sat at the table eating more food. “Mr Wesley, sir, the police have arrived and are waiting for you in the drawing room.”

The boy jumped out of his seat. “They ain't come for me ‘ave they mister, I ain’t done nothing wrong?”

Charles laughed. “No they haven’t come for you, now sit down and finish your cake.” He turned to Mr Howard. “Thank you Howard, will you inform Mr and Mrs Gardener that they are here?” Charles ruffled the boy’s hair and left the kitchen.

Mrs Shaw looked at Mary and making sure the boy couldn’t hear whispered. “What a sorry mess this is, I wonder what will happen to the poor mite?”

Mary shrugged her shoulders as she watched the boy shovelling the cake into his mouth like there was no tomorrow.

 

Charles entered the room just a few minutes after John and Emily. John made the introductions and offered the men a seat. The younger officer took out a pad and pencil from his breast pocket and sat poised to write. The older man spoke first. He looked at Charles.

“Right Mr Wesley, I believe you were the one to find the body?”

Charles nodded.

“Would you please explain clearly for the benefit of my colleague just what happened this morning?”

Charles retold the story of finding the boy and his father in the house.

“And where is the boy now sir?”

Emily spoke for the first time. “He’s being fed in the kitchen, he is being well looked after.”

The inspector smiled. “Yes, I’m sure he is Mrs Gardener, but I’m afraid social services will have to be notified and the boy will probably be placed in care.”

Emily put her hand to her throat. “Oh, what a dreadful thought, can the poor boy not stay here?”

“I’m afraid that will be up to social services, you will have to discuss that with them.” The Inspector stood up and glanced at the junior officer and back to Charles. “I think we have all we need for the moment. Do you live on the premises Mr Wesley?”

Charles nodded. “Yes I do.”

“It’s just in case we need to speak to you further.”

He shook hands and Charles showed him to the door. Outside in the porch the Inspector looked at Charles and shook his head. “Sad state of affairs seems the man died from gangrene poisoning, there was nothing anyone could have done.”

“Will you need to speak to the boy, he doesn’t know about his father yet?”

“No, I expect the social services will do that, although it might come a little better from you sir, seeing as how he’s befriended you.”

“Yes Inspector, perhaps you’re right.”

They shook hands again and left the house. Charles stood and watched them until they were out of sight. He took in a deep breath and looked up at the sky; he wasn’t looking forward to speaking to the boy.

 

In the drawing room Emily was talking to John, he seemed brighter somehow. “What are we going to do about the boy?”

John turned from the fire and looked at his wife. “You heard the Inspector; it’s down to the social workers now.”

“But they were our tenants John; surely we have some responsibility to the boy. I think he should stay here.”

“Now look here, Emily, we can’t go taking in every waif and stray, we’d be overrun.”

“I know John, but the boy has no one. Can’t he stay here until his mother is found or a relative?”

This was typical of his wife, he didn’t want an argument, and there was nothing he could do but agree. “If you can persuade the social workers he can stay, but only this one boy, no more Emily.”

She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

John watched her leave the room, if he knew his wife she would have the social workers eating out of her hand. He picked up his paper and sat down in the armchair and smiled. He wouldn’t like to be in their shoes if they put up a fight.

 

Emily found Charles standing at the bottom of the stairs deep in thought. “Are you okay Charles?” With a heavy sigh he discussed the problem of telling the boy about his father. “Charles there’s no easy way to do this, the boy trusts you, it must come from you but I’ll be by your side.”

Charles gave her a meagre smile and together they entered the kitchen. Mrs Shaw and Mary were busy preparing lunch and Ned was sat on a chair swinging his legs. He smiled when he saw Charles. He patted his stomach.

“Thanks mister, ain’t eaten that much food since me ma left. Now can we go see me dad?”

Charles pulled up a chair next to him. “Ned I’m sorry but the doctor couldn’t make your dad better.”

Ned stared at all the faces looking in his direction, and then looked back at Charles. “What do you mean, he couldn’t make him better, he’s going to be alright ain’t he?”

Charles could see the fear in the boy’s eyes and took his small hand in his. “Ned I’m sorry but your dad’s gone to heaven.”

The boy jumped up. “Heaven, heaven, you mean my dad’s dead.” Tears sprang to his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. He brushed them away. “Where is he, I have to go see him.” He ran to the door straight into Mr Howard.

“Steady boy, watch where you’re going.”

He turned and ran back to Charles and threw himself into the waiting arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Upstairs Richard woke with a start, he could hear lots of voices downstairs and what sounded like a small child screaming. He walked to the window and looked out; there were no cars there so they didn’t have visitors. He had to find out what was going on, he’d been cooped up in this room long enough. He marched to the door just as it was opening.

Charles stood there, the colour drained from his face.

“Charles, what’s going on? Who’s that screaming?”

Charles walked into the room and sat in one of the armchairs, Richard sat opposite. With a heavy heart Charles told Richard the full story of finding Sid Fletcher and his son.

“My God, what a thing to have happened and you say no one knows where the mother has gone? Is that the boy screaming now?”

A smile crossed Charles’s face. “Yes, I’m afraid they are the screams of a young boy being bathed by Mr Howard, not too gently from the sounds of it, your mother has gone in search of some clean clothes for him.”

“What’s going to happen to the boy?”

Charles shrugged. “It’s up to social services now.”

Richard stood up and walked round the room ending up looking out of the window. Charles watched him; he looked like a tiger caught in a cage prowling from side to side.

“If your mother allows it, I was thinking of going over to the Fletchers to have a look around, wondered if you’d like to come.”

Richard swung round. “Would I, great idea, great idea, after all we have to decide what to do with it now.”

Charles spotted his moment. “How about we sell it to old Reg Phillips, he’s always going on about it and it would give us some extra cash to sort out that drainage problem we have?”

“Good idea, we’ll go and see the place and then put it to father, what do you think he’ll say?”

“Oh, I’m sure we can talk him round.”

 

Emily had taken one of the servant girls up to the attic rooms to search for some old clothes of Richard’s. She knew she had put them up here somewhere but it was so long ago she couldn’t remember which room. At last she found the chest she was looking for. The drawers were stiff but between them they managed to get them open. She pulled out trousers, shirts and jumpers and put them on the table. “Oh dear, they don’t look too clever do they?” The trousers and shirts would have been too big anyway and the jumpers were full of holes. “I must go through these and throw them away, these are no use. What are we going to do?”

“If it’s alright with you Mrs Gardener our Jimmy is growing so fast I’m sure my mum could find a few things to fit the lad for now.”

“Oh Molly, that would be wonderful. Go downstairs this minute and tell Mr Howard that I said you were to go home at once and speak to your mother. Don’t just stand there, move along, go.”

Left alone she looked further into the drawers, she found the old gown that both her children had been christened in, she couldn’t remember bringing it from their old house. A smile crossed her face as she remembered those happy days, holding the gown close to her. She gently wrapped it back in the tissue paper and placed it back in the drawer. One by one she opened the drawers discarding old clothes to the floor. She would get Molly to clear them up tomorrow. By the time she had finished the light was failing. She made her way carefully down the narrow stairs and along the corridor, as she passed Richard’s room she could hear the boys laughing. She smiled, it would be good to get everything back to normal.

By the time Charles got back downstairs, Ned was wrapped in a towel sitting by the stove keeping warm. His cheeks were red and shiny. “My word, this can’t be our Ned, this is a different boy.” He winked at Mary and then looked down at him. “And who might you be sir?”

The boy shuffled from side to side feeling uncomfortable. He looked up at Charles with sad, red, puffy eyes. “I thought you were my friend?”

Charles crouched down before him a worried look on his face. “I am little man.”

“Then why did you set that old geezer on me, nearly scrubbed the skin off me he did.”

Charles stifled a smile. “Sorry about that, it was either him or young Mary over there.”

“What, I ain’t having no woman wash me.” He looked around. “Where’s me clothes gone anyway?”

Mrs Shaw came into the room carrying a large pie for the oven. “At the back of that fire that’s where, practically walked there by themselves they did.”

The boy looked puzzled. “How can clothes walk without owt in em?”

The kitchen filled with laughter.

Molly was soon back with a bundle of clothes tied up with string. “Mum says there not up to much but they’re all nice and clean and should be okay for the boy. Proper sad she was when I told her what had happened.”

Mrs Shaw thanked her and sorted out underwear, pants and a jumper. “Here Ned put them on.”

He clung to the towel. “I ain’t getting dressed in front of no women.”

Mrs Shaw and Mary turned round and placed their backs to him, they could hear a lot of moaning and groaning.

“I’m ready.”

They turned to inspect the young boy. Mrs Shaw smiled. “Why you look a right bobby dazzler.”

 

Later that evening over dinner Charles related the whole sorry story to the girls. Sarah was almost in tears by the time he had come to the end. “The poor child, what will happen to him now?”

Emily spoke for the first time, she looked at Charles. “While you were busy with the boy we had a visit from the social services. A horrid little man with glasses and greasy hair, he sniffed all the time, a most disagreeable person. He held a brown brief case under his arm, I could see the handle was broken and his suit needed a good press.”

Sarah was getting impatient. “Mother what happened?”

“The silly man wanted to take Ned away with him, there and then. Well I wasn’t having that and told him so. After a few words were said backwards and forwards between us he gradually saw my side of things.” She had a sip of wine and continued. “He said he needed to see the boy to make sure he was alright. I asked him what he was implying, did he think I would harm the child. After some coughing and spluttering on his part he finally gave in and pushed a piece of paper towards me. I signed the thing and handed it back to him and that was that, I showed him the door.”

John looked at his wife. “Where is this paper, did he give you a copy?”

“Of course he did, it’s in the drawing room somewhere.”

John looked at Charles. “After dinner I think we should look at this piece of paper and see what my wife has let us in for.” With a shake of his head he continued his meal.

 

When dinner was over Victoria and Sarah spent the rest of the evening with Richard in his room. John and Emily retired to the drawing room and Charles took Ned over to the stables to meet Eddie. He was busy looking after the old horse. The boy ran straight to the horse and patted his nose; the horse snorted and bobbed his head playfully. Eddie watched him.

“The boy has a way with the horse, that’s good to see.”

“Will the horse recover?”

“It just needs feeding up I think, I’ll have the vet look him over on his next visit just to be sure.”

“Mrs Gardener was wondering if Ned could bunk in with you over the stables, perhaps he could help out around here, mucking out or something.”

BOOK: Moorcroft - the Possession: Book One of the Moorcroft Trilogy
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