River of Destiny (27 page)

‘I told no one, my lady. I of all people did not want it noised about. It seems you were not as careful as you could have been. You instructed men to take your blankets out to the shelter. What did you expect them to think they were for?’ The colour rose slightly in his face. ‘Do you despise your servants so much you don’t give them credit for having eyes and ears and being able to use them? I have been a laughing stock, my lady, and so have you.’

She was silent. Almost at once he regretted saying what he had, but it was out now, and there had to be an end to it. Everyone had heard of her miscarriage, if indeed that was what it was. And everyone had speculated whose baby it might have been. Molly had said that Mrs Field had said there never was no baby, but whatever happened he was not going to help her get pregnant, a bull to her cow to give the squire an heir.

Her face had grown hard. ‘You will regret those words, Daniel.’

‘I spoke no more than the truth. Now, you need to go home, my lady. Shall I help you mount?’

‘I will send you a message and you will come.’ She moved forward and gathered up the reins. ‘Do you hear me? You will come!’

He said nothing. He went up to her and, lifting her up, sat her on the saddle. He fitted her foot to the stirrup and waited while she arranged herself and pulled the skirt of her habit into place, then he untied the horse. He turned it and stood back without a word. She looked down at him. ‘You will come, Daniel,’ she repeated. She lifted her whip threateningly and for a moment he thought that this time she was going to strike him with it, but she brought it down on the horse’s rump. The animal jumped sideways. She pulled its head round with a vicious jerk and trotted out of the yard.

Dan turned away and found George standing watching from just inside the old barn door. ‘You want to watch that one,’ George said quietly. ‘I reckon she could turn vicious.’

‘She wants a child.’ Daniel nodded.

‘And doesn’t care who she hurts in the process.’ George shook his head. ‘Mr Mayhew says that Mr Henry has written to his solicitor about the inheritance. The estate is to go to one of his nephews if he has no children.’

‘These things have to be taken care of, I suppose,’ Dan said grimly.

‘Of course she doesn’t want that. The whole estate and her dowry going to a stranger. But she’s a young woman. She should be healthy enough.’ George winked.

‘So presumably is the squire,’ Dan said acidly. ‘His first wife, God bless her, managed to produce an heir even if the poor mite did kill her.’

George frowned. ‘This one’s desperate. A cow always goes for the younger bull.’

Dan shook his head. ‘I want none of it.’ He turned back to the forge where Benjamin, who had been watching with avid curiosity, ducked inside to reach for the bellows again, leaving George shaking his head.

‘Oh my days!’ Jackson Watts stared at his little sister in horror. ‘What is wrong with you?’

Her face was covered in spots.

‘Chicken pox,’ she said cheerfully. ‘It means I can’t go back to school. You will have to look after me for the rest of the term. Do you want to ring Mum or will I?’

He subsided onto the low blue couch in front of the TV and for several minutes seemed incapable of speech. When at last he had thought it through he dragged his eyes away from the screen. ‘That doesn’t mean we have to stay here?’

‘Yes it does. I will be in quarantine and you will have to look after me.’ She sat down next to him and folded her arms. She was smiling at him triumphantly.

‘How come you know so much about it?’

‘I caught it from Holly. She was really ill and she missed weeks of school before half-term.’

‘So how did you catch it?’

‘I went to see her.’

‘Did Mum know?’

Jade shook her head. ‘It’s better to get these things when one is young.’ She tried to look solemn.

‘Do you feel ill?’

She shook her head. ‘It itches a bit. You will have to get me something from the chemist to put on the rash.’

‘You’ll have to go to the doctor.’

‘No way!’ She held out her arm to him. ‘They are real spots, look. I’m not scamming. Have you had it?’

He thought for a moment. ‘Can’t remember.’

‘Well, if you haven’t then you’ll get it too and we’ll be here even longer. It’s great! Go on. Ring Mum.’ She hesitated for a moment, then she put her hand to her brow dramatically. ‘I think I’ll go and lie down while you talk to her.’ She paused in the doorway and turned. ‘Don’t let her come back. Tell her you can cope.’

He watched as she trailed upstairs with her mobile in her hand. Lie down indeed! He could hear her voice echoing down the passage as she headed towards her room. ‘Hi, Holly! It worked! I’ve got it!’

He grinned. As it happened he was quite happy to spend a bit more time in Suffolk. It would give one or two of the scams he was involved in at home time to quieten down. Out of sight, out of mind, as their nan used to say.

He glanced out of the window and narrowed his eyes. Rosemary was standing outside her front door with one of her friends. They were both wearing small backpacks and Rosemary was carrying her walking pole. They were deep in conversation. He reached for his phone. He could call their mother later. This was far more urgent. He waited impatiently for the line to connect. ‘Mike? Just to warn you. It looks like the old bag is getting ready to walk it again.’ He listened for a minute then he nodded. ‘OK. Plan B. See you there.’ He tucked the phone into his jeans pocket and went to the foot of the stairs. ‘Jade?’ he yelled. ‘Will you be OK if I go out for a bit?’ He waited for an answer, shrugged and headed towards the back door, pulling on his jacket.

He was supposed to keep his gun in a locked cabinet. His dad had one upstairs specially installed for the purpose of keeping their guns and ammunition safe and legal, but it took too long to put it away up there and he couldn’t be bothered anyway, so he had stashed his .22 rifle under a pile of old blankets in the utility room. He pulled it out and stuffed a box of cartridges into the pocket of his jacket, then he pulled the door open a crack and put his eye to it. Rosemary and Dottie were heading across the grass towards the fields. He glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes, Mike Turtill had said, and they would meet up to take a few shots at some pigeons down at Dead Man’s Copse. Jackson grinned. Mike’s dad was off the farm today so no one was going to interfere with their plan.

With the gun safely broken and tucked under his arm Jackson loped silently down behind the house and cut across the grass towards the back lane which led to the line of garages which served the barns. From there he could climb over the stile into the top wood and follow round towards the footpath. His eyes were gleaming. The more he thought about it the more his sister’s affliction seemed like a blessing. He had no intention of taking her to the doctor, although he wouldn’t tell his mother that. Suddenly half-term was extended by however long this disease took to run its course and he would have to volunteer to stay to look after her. It was the right thing to do. And it seemed to suit them both. She hadn’t looked ill. Chicken pox was one of those diseases kids got, wasn’t it? Apart from the spots they didn’t feel ill, so she could enjoy herself as well. He wondered briefly if the freak next door had had it. It would hardly matter if he got any more scars. Who would notice? He grinned to himself again.

As he neared the woods above Dead Man’s Field he slowed down and began to walk more cautiously, keeping his eyes open for Rosemary, who had been wearing a scarlet jacket, stupid cow, and scanning the hedges for Mike, who would be wearing camouflage gear.

‘Here, Jacko,’ Mike’s call came from behind him. Jackson spun round and the two boys did a high five. ‘Where is she? Any sign?’

Jackson shook his head. ‘She’s wearing red so you can’t miss her. If you get my meaning.’ He sniggered.

Mike Turtill and Jackson had hit it off the first time they had met several years before, and got together every time the Watts came up to the barn. Like Jackson, Mike was eighteen. He was supposed to be in college but with his father away for the day, and his mother preoccupied with some meeting she was going to later, today was one of the days he had decided to skive off. He had been about to phone Jacko when Jacko had called him first. His gun was slung across his shoulders. He glanced up at the sun and shivered. ‘It’s going to get foggy later. Let’s get down to the copse before she arrives.’

They walked side by side down the hedge, keeping close to it, and keeping their eyes skinned. ‘My dad is going to plough all this,’ Mike said as they headed for the gate. ‘That will spoil their fun.’

Jackson was about to make a witty riposte when he stopped. He put a warning hand on his mate’s arm. ‘Look. There,’ he whispered.

The two women were standing by the hedge only about fifty metres ahead of them, staring out across the field.

‘They’re going to climb through the hedge,’ Mike murmured. ‘They can’t even be bothered to go up to the farm gate on the lane!’

‘Muppets,’ Jackson commented. ‘It’s full of brambles. I suppose they will want those cut back too, and notices warning their frigging friends the countryside might be prickly.’ He gave a snort of derision.

The young men waited, watching as the two women seemed to confer about where the best place was to force their way into the field through the hedge. ‘She’s got bleeding secateurs,’ Mike said after a moment. And then, indignantly, ‘She’s cutting a hole through our hedge! She’s making an entrance as though there already is a footpath there across the field!’

‘Go and challenge her,’ Jackson suggested.

Mike shook his head. ‘Far better to scare them away. Come on, this way. We’ll cut down and get to the copse from the other side. We’ll be waiting for them. Wait, though. I can take a picture of them damaging our property. There’s a good zoom on this.’ He groped in the pocket of his jacket for his phone.

Zoë was perched on one of the high stools in the kitchen with the local paper open on the worktop in front of her. She had a felt-tip in her hand and was scanning the situations vacant. One had caught her eye. ‘Part-time help wanted in popular local gallery.’ Someone wanted help in a gallery and no one, not one single person had told her, in spite of her pleas and messages and research. She squinted at the sketch of the shop. Did she recognise it? If so, she was going to go there now, today, and talk her way into that job no matter what. She might not want to stay in Suffolk, but as long as they were there she might as well go on looking.

She glanced round for her car keys and slid off the stool to collect them from the work surface near the sink. As she did so she saw Jade running across the grass towards The Old Forge. Even at that distance she could tell something was wrong. She watched as the child reached Leo’s door and started beating on it with her fists.

‘He’s not there, Jade,’ she murmured. ‘I checked.’ She hesitated for a moment then turned towards the door. She doubted she could help with whatever crisis was happening, but at least she could offer.

She walked quickly over the grass towards the forge, aware that Jade had disappeared. She had probably gone round to the back door with her key. Then she saw the child had subsided onto the doorstep. She began to run.

‘Jade? What is it? Can I help? Leo is away –’ She broke off as Jade looked up.

Her face was blotchy and covered in a rash and she was sobbing bitterly. ‘You’ve got to do something!’ Jade cried hysterically. ‘Jackson has gone mad! He’s taken a gun and he’s going to shoot Mrs Formby and I don’t know what to do!’ She was hugging her knees now, rocking backwards and forwards.

Zoë stared at her for a moment, trying to take in what she had said. ‘Where are they?’ she asked at last.

Jade shook her head. ‘That place she’s going on about. The path in the field. She’s gone there and Jackson went and took his gun –’

‘What sort of gun?’ Zoë asked sharply. Not that she knew anything about guns.

‘It’s a rifle.’ Jade sniffed. She stopped rocking.

‘Then we should call the police. Now.’ Zoë groped in her pocket for her phone. It wasn’t there and she remembered suddenly that it was lying on her bedside table plugged in to charge. ‘Oh God, have you got Leo’s key?’

Jade shook her head. ‘You can’t call the police.’

‘Why not? Have you got your mobile?’

Again the shake of the head. ‘The Watts don’t do cops.’ It was obviously some sort of quote. She sniffed loudly. ‘Will he go to prison?’

‘He will if he hurts her. I have to get the police, Jade. I don’t know what else to do.’

‘Go after them. Stop him.’ The child stood up. Zoë was suddenly aware that the rash was all over her arms as well, and she was dressed only in a thin T-shirt. ‘Are you ill, Jade?’

Jade scowled. ‘It’s chicken pox.’

‘Then you should be in bed. Go home now and go to bed and stay there. I will go down to the field. I know where it is. And, Jade, please, please, ring the police.’

She didn’t wait to see what the girl did. She turned and began to run across the grass towards the hedge which ran between the Turtills’ farm and their grounds. Halfway down the field there was a gate onto the farm track which ran down towards the river.