The Body on the Beach (The Weymouth Trilogy) (23 page)

‘Right. Get up here with me and we’ll go immediately.’

Tom shook his head.

‘No, sir. You go on yer own. I’d slow yer down too much. I’ll follow on behind on foot.’

Andrew nodded. Tom gave him a hitch onto the horse and he cantered uncertainly along the cobbles towards the bridge. He hardly knew what he was doing, although the horse appeared to kno
w exactly where to go. He
automatically took his master along the Esplanade and past Mr Brewer’s grand house on their left. He knew that there was nothing
to do there that afternoon. He cantered as swiftly as he
dare along the busy sea front and turned off along the ancient trackway towards the cottages. Before Andrew was fully aware of what he was doing and where he was the horse was slowing down. Then he began to regain some control. He dismounted as the rocks came into view and led the horse a little gingerly towards them. Then, letting him go, Andrew made the final few yards alone and on foot. The tide was still lapping the base of the lowest ledges and he stepped into the water to search for Kathryn. He looked through all the gaps and crevices, trying to find her. And then, suddenly, he saw Sally. She had stayed with her mistress, and spotted Andrew at just the same moment as he spotted her.

‘She’s over ‘ere, sir,’ she called, standing up and splashing into the water to meet him. ‘She’s over ‘ere and in desperate straits. Dear God you’ll be able to do something for ‘er.’

Andrew squeezed his way into the niche that Kath
ryn and Bob had made their home
and
pushed his way gently ju
st behind and to one side of them
. He bent his head to hers and cradled her in his arms. They said nothing, but Kathryn shifted a tiny amount in
order to nestle still closer
to him. And there they sat, Andrew, Kathryn and Bob blended all together in the cool evening breeze, part of the landscape, with Sally still watching silently by their side.

They sat like this for another hour or so, before the wheezing
T
om finally stumbled along the rocky edge to meet them. The tide had turned by this time and the waters were slowly
receding
. Andrew raised his head when he heard the new arrival and then whispered softly to Kathryn, still nestled in his arms.

‘We need to get you back home,
lieveling
,’ he whispered. ‘We
’ve
got to get you inside. Let Tom take...take little Bob. I will carry you there myself.’

Mutely, Kathryn nodded and Andrew struggled to his feet. He called for Tom to come over.

‘Take the lad, Tom,
’
he said, gently releasing the grey little body from his mother’s unresisting arms.  ‘You take Bob and I’ll take his mama.’

And so it was that a sorry little procession – Andrew, carrying an inert and dripping Kathryn, Tom, carrying an equally inert and sodden Bob, and Sally, silently bringing up the rear, passed Sandsford Cottages on their way up to the house. Gabriel and Arthur spotted them as they passed by the window and came out of their door, tugging their forelocks in respect. The family next door similarly came out and stood silently as the sad little party made its way up the hill. Sally hurried past the others as they reached the garden gate and opened it for them. Then she went to the house door and opened that. Andrew and Tom passed through it and into the kitchen, where a fire burned every day even in summer, for the cooking. Andrew placed Kathryn carefully into Sally’s rocking chair next to the fire and indicated to Tom to lay Bob’s body on the kitchen table. Andrew could hardly bring himself to look at it. Sally covered it over with a cloth.

‘I’ll get the doctor,’ said Andrew. ‘I don’t know what to do for the best here.’

‘No. You stay here, Mr Berkeley. Mrs Miller needs you with her. Let Tom, or me, go for the doctor.’

Poor Tom, already totally exhausted by his unwonted exertions, nevertheless backed Sally in her demands that he be sent
in Andrew’s stead
. In the end, neither of them had to go. Mr Gabriel, having seen the almost lifeless form of Mrs Miller as Andrew had carried her up the hill, had taken it upon himself to fetch him, sending Mr Arthur up to Sandsford House to tell them so. Tom and Sally, both secretly relieved that th
is new demand should not be placed
upon them, (after all, neither was as young as they would
have
like
d
and they had scrambled up and down hillsides of one sort or another for most of the day) busied themselves with the practical things that they knew the best.
Sally sent Mr Berkeley to fetch Kathryn’s bed clothes, and Tom to milk the cow, whilst she herself warmed the kitchen towels by the fire.
When Andrew returned she shooed him out to help Tom for a while, while she herself stripped her mistress, washed her with hot water, dried her with the warm, if somewhat rough, towels, and then brushed her hair carefully and dressed her in her night clothes.
Then she put the kettle on for some tea. Tom stripped Mr Berkeley of his wet shoes and stockings as he knelt by the chair with Kathryn in his arms, and placed them by the fire to dry. By the time the doctor arrived the kitchen appeared relatively normal, save for the somewhat lumpy bundle upon the wooden table, and Mr Berkeley, bare legged, still holding a senseless Kathryn in one hand as she half sat, half lay, in the chair in front of the fire, and trying to get her to sip some tea, with the other.

The doctor took a cursory look at Bob before covering him up again
,
and turn
ed
to Mrs Miller by the fire. He took a hand and slapped it gently. He felt her forehead. He listened to her chest.

‘She is suffering from shock, and from the cold, and she has some nasty bumps and bruises that will be quite painful, I should think,’ he pronounced, somewhat superfluously. ‘She requires warmth and rest. You need to get her into a warm bed and let her be quiet for a while. Tomorrow, if not before, ensure that she eats something – preferably something warm. And do not, whatever you do, do not leave her on her own. I will call again in a couple of days’ time to see how she does. Hopefully it will turn out that she is not in too much danger.’

Although the doctor had said nothing that Tom, Sally and Andrew themselves could not have determined his visit did have the advantage of providing them with the confidence to follow their own instincts. Sally suggested that
Andrew might like to put her to bed. Nodding, he lifted her carefully in his arms, took
her up the stairs, lay her tenderly into th
e warm softness
, and cover
ed
her up
once
again
.

Sally half expected him to come down
straight away
and go home
but he arranged a cushion on the wooden chair next to the bed and sat there into the evening, holding her hand. At about nine o’clock he rang the bell.

‘Would you get the spare room ready for me, please Sally?’ He said. ‘And would Tom be so kind as to find my horse?’

‘Don’t worry about that, Mr B,’ she replied. ‘Mr Arthur found the horse and Tom’s put him away in the shed. The bedroom’ll be all ready for you, and when you’re ready to get yourself to bed just let me know and I’ll sit up with the missus for a while.’

‘Thank you, Sally,’ he said. ‘I’ll sit up with her for as long as I can, and if you can take over at about five or six I’ll get my
own
rest then.’

Sally nodded and went away. She returned a few minutes later with a plate of bread and meat for Andrew, and then went to sort out the spare room for his use. Andrew sat with Kathryn all through the long night, holding her hand, nodding off occasionally and then rousing himself, looking down through the darkness at h
er face, stroking it softly every so often
, and musing all the while about the twists and turns of fate and wondering just how much the poor woman would have to contend with before it was done with her.

He was still there when Sally arose at five to relieve him. Kathryn had not stirred all night and looked almost peaceful as she lay there. Andrew went to his room, where Sally had left some hot water for him
. He shaved and
washed himself and then wandered out into the garden for a few minutes before returning to the house, stripping off, and getting into bed.

He only slept for three or four hours and then was up again, knocking softly on Kathryn’
s door before slipping ginger
ly inside. Sally relinquished the seat by her bed immediately and left them on their own. All day he sat with her, save for a very few minutes when he went to the kitchen for some dinner, and a very few minutes more when he took a turn about the garden and wandered down to the cottages to thank the tenants for their help, and back, before tea. He said nothing, and Kathryn did not stir.

At about eleven o’clock Sally reappeared at the chamber door.

‘Shall I stay with her tonight, Mr B?’ she asked him, looking at the peaceful form still lying snugly in the bed. ‘I can get you up if ever she awakens.’

Andrew nodded.

‘If you wouldn’t mind, Sally,’ he said. ‘I’ll turn in now for a few hours. Get me up again as soon as you need a break. And be sure to knock me up immediately if anything should change.’

He retired to his chamber and stripped himself ready for bed once again. It was not until he was actually getting between the sheets that he suddenly remembered that he had been engaged to take Sophie out for the day that day. He thought of it and then dismissed it
straight away
. What was Sophie after all? She was but a droplet to the ocean that was Kathryn, and he knew that she always would be. She
would be mad as a witch about being ignored
.
And Andrew realised that he did
n
’
t care one jot.

He slept through until about a half after four and then dragged himself
wearily
out of bed. A weak greyness was just starting to make its presence known through a chink in the curtains but the rain was spattering depressingly on the window panes. There was no water in the room yet, as Sally was obviously still with her mistress, so he pulled on his breeches and made his way downstairs and out into the yard in order to wash himself under the pump instead. The coldness of the water on his chest and back was invigorating. He took a bucket and filled it up before taking it into the kitchen and stoking the fire. He put some of the water into the kettle and the rest into a
three-legged
cooking pot, which he laid
upon
the flames. Then he sat back in the chair for a moment. Bob’s body had gone from the table. He was relieved to find it go
ne. He had found the sight of it quite
unbearable
. The little boy had lit up his life
. He wanted no
reminder of his loss. Once the kettle had boiled he made a pot of tea and placed it on
the
tray that
was kept
on the dresser.  He added three dishes and a piece of bread that he found in a jar, and took it warily up the stairs to Kathryn’s room. He knocked on the door with his foot and a bleary-eyed Sally appeared to open it.

‘Tea?’ he asked, and he brought the tray into the room.

He deposited the tray on Kathryn’s
dressing
table and poured the rather evil-looking liquid into two of the dishes. It was apparent that he was not much used to making his own but it was warm and welcome enough, and totally unexpected. Sally watched him, a half smile on her face
, and accepted her own dish gratefully
. She loved him almost as much as she loved her mistress and, not for the first time, she silently prayed to God that some way might be found for Andrew and Kathryn to get themselves together. She was religious enough but she couldn’t see how it was God’s will to keep two suc
h special people apart from one
other. It was obvious to everyone who knew anything at all that they were kindred spirits. They had to be together. They were born to be together. She could not conceive of either of them being even tolerably happy without the other. Yes, she was religious enough and she knew the rules. But if she were to have her way she would pack them both off to the continent somewhere and let them pretend what was needed.

‘Do you think we should try to waken her?’ he was asking
her, looking down at the still-
sleeping Kathryn. ‘She has eaten nothing for ages now. It cannot be good for her to let her waste away.’

Sally looked at her doubtfully. She was a li
ttle torn. Certainly she knew
the value of rest and sleep in mending a troubled mind, but on the other hand the doctor had told them to ensure that the poor l
ady ate something and she could
n
’
t help but agree with Mr Berkeley that she should have to be awakened at some time.

‘I think she might be better with something a little more tempting than a piece of dry bread, though,’ she said, laughing a little as she saw what Andrew had brought her. ‘Let me get her an egg – there was a fresh one laid only yesterday – and I’ll bring it up before we waken her.’