Listening to the Quiet

by Listening to the Quiet (retail) (epub)

  ‘Arnold Jelbert has started bullying me.’ He smiled. It was a wan and sickly smile, and Jo wasn’t fooled by the joke.

  ‘Marcus, tell me what happened.’

  He could not meet her eyes. ‘Sometimes Mama can’t help herself and she lashes out.’ He pressed both hands to his face, clearly embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t bother you with my troubles. I should have driven past the farm.’

  ‘No, I’m glad you’re here. We’re friends and I’d like to help. Mercy’s just made me some breakfast. Why don’t you join me?’

  He hesitated and she held out her hand to him. He gripped it quickly, as if she had thrown him a lifeline, and he allowed her to lead him to a chair.

  Kip and Hunter pattered into the room and while they sniffed and examined the newcomer, Marcus responded to them wholeheartedly.

  ‘The dogs like you.’ Jo poured tea for them both and offered him the plateful of thick wedges of toast and marmalade Mercy had left for her.

  ‘Thank you. As a child, I always wanted a dog. Mama would never let me have one.’

  ‘You could have one sometime in the future,’ Jo said. ‘It will give you something to look forward to.’

  ‘Yes, I could,’ he said. ‘Thank you, Joanna. You give me hope.’ He consumed his part of the breakfast in reflective silence, and Jo sensed it best to leave him to unwind with his thoughts. She slipped out of the room to collect her hat.

  When she returned, ready for the drive to school, Hunter suddenly jumped up and put his heavy front paws on Marcus’ s chest. It snapped him out of his morbid cogitation over last night’s humiliation and he was able to laugh. ‘Perhaps I will get a dog one day. A faithful companion like Hunter or Kip is just what I need.’

  As they drove to the village the sun was caressingly hot. Birds were singing, the verges were awash with celandines and wild garlic, and gorse was splashing its vivid gold on bank, field and roughland. Tangy moorland scents were scattered on the crisp breeze. The wildlife settled the spirits of the man and woman in the motorcar.

  ‘There’s something I have to tell you,’ Marcus said. ‘The authorities have contacted me about the Vigus children’s attendance at school and I have replied that all is satisfactory in that respect. It’s entirely your doing, Joanna. I do admire you.’

  ‘Thank you. I want to do my best for all the children. Ann Markham is particularly bright. I’d like to talk to her parents about a scholarship to grammar school.’

  ‘I wouldn’t advise it. It would be unrealistic. You’d only build up the girl’s hopes for nothing and put an unfair burden on her family. Her parents could not afford the extra finance for her uniform, books and things. I’ve talked to two fathers about sending their sons to study mining at Camborne. It would give them a good future, even though it would almost certainly mean them moving overseas to achieve success. Both men said it was out of the question.’

  ‘Perhaps something could be set up to help children like Ann and the two boys. Miss Sayce left me some money. Would you support me if I set up a trust fund?’

  ‘If you’re sure it’s what you want to do, I shall be totally behind you.’ It suited him to think of her money being used to benefit the children of Parmarth rather than to finance his mother’s wantonly sought exit from the moors.

  * * *

  ‘I want so much for him to get married,’ Eleanor said, propped up against her pillows.

  After taking tea with Eleanor, Jo was emptying her wardrobe, laying the winter garments in a trunk, which Sally and Beth had dragged in from the boxroom.

  ‘I’m sure Marcus will find the right woman one day,’ Jo replied, putting a fur coat into the trunk.

  ‘He already has. You, Joanna. You’re perfect for each other. When are you going to realise it?’

  ‘Marcus and I haven’t known each other long, Eleanor,’ Jo hedged. The pretence with Marcus that they were on closer terms was becoming increasingly awkward. Was it right to lie to an old woman to make her final years more comfortable? To feed her false hopes? And it was only a matter of time before Eleanor got to hear of her relationship with Luke. Recalling how miserable Marcus was this morning, and believing Eleanor might have struck him partly out of frustration that there was not yet an announcement, she decided to tell her the truth.

  She approached the bed. ‘Eleanor, Marcus and I are close friends, but I don’t think there will ever be anything more between us. You see, I’ve formed an attachment with another man and I love him very much.’

  ‘You mean the rumours about you and that gipsy are true? You have no intention of marrying my son?’ Eleanor’s eyes enlarged to twice their normal size and glittered strangely.

  Jo backed away. Eleanor was frightening. ‘No. I’m sorry if that was the impression I’ve been giving.’

  ‘You little bitch! You’ve been enjoying the hospitality of my house and all the time you’ve been playing me for a fool. Isn’t my son good enough for you? You won’t find another of his calibre prepared to marry a plain little shrew like you, with a common whore for a mother and a trollop as a best friend!’

  Shocked at Eleanor’s malice, Jo somehow managed to keep her composure. ‘Well, you’ve certainly revealed your true colours, Eleanor Lidgey. I’ve always thought there was something wrong here, now I know what it is. It’s you. You’re selfish, mean and spiteful.’

  Jo expressed her next thought angrily. ‘Was it you who spread the gossip about Celia Sayce?’

  ‘Yes and I’m proud of it. Communities should know what sort of people they have living among them. Now get out of my house, Joanna Venner, before I throw something at you.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‘Look in particular for anything you’re unfamiliar with, children, and we’ll try to identify it together later,’ Jo instructed her class.

  She had taken the children a little way on to the moor for a nature study. Some of the children had sketchbooks and pencils for drawing the rocks, flora and wildlife, others were making notes. A few had old toffee tins to carry back specimens or jars to collect frog spawn. She had shown them where she remembered looking among the stones of the Cornish hedges for signs of stoats and weasels. They’d all had fun sending sticks and leaves down the stream which trickled slowly down the valley.

  ‘Can some of us climb to the top of Fox Tor, Miss Venner?’ Arnold asked politely, a tactic he had acquired, for Jo could be very strict with him. ‘I can draw a good picture of the whole village up there.’

  ‘We’re studying nature, Arnold,’ Jo reminded him firmly.

  ‘There’s some funny-looking moss up there. I can draw that. And I bet there’d be grubs under the stones. We can bring some back to examine.’ He turned on an innocent expression.

  Jo knew he and the more energetic children were excited to be out of the classroom and needed to spend their energy. It would be wise to allow Arnold, and those he stirred into mischief, to wander the short distance rather than risk them picking on Molly. Always nervous, Molly was keeping very close to Jo, and had already received jibes for putting nothing more exciting than grass in her toffee tin. She was more interested in the picture of the two fluffy white kittens on the lid.

  ‘Very well, Arnold, but I shall expect good results from you and those who accompany you. You must keep in sight at all times. When I wave my handkerchief, you must come back at once.’

  Nine boisterous children, including Rex, began the scramble for the small tor up ahead. The remainder of the class scoured the immediate vicinity, where the stream formed a pool, offering a habitat to a large quantity of unhatched tadpoles.

  Sitting on a granite boulder where she could observe all her class’s activities, Jo sketched a pile of flat discus-like heavy stones, which nature had arranged one on top of another and which were encrusted by an interesting skeletal bright red lichen.

  Molly perched on a smaller boulder nearby and drifted off into a daydream.

  Jo pointed to a patch of sphagnum moss. ‘Why not put some of t
hat in your tin, Molly?’

  The little girl looked at her vacantly for a moment then obeyed, soon drifting off into her own little world again. Jo let her be. She drew Molly sitting on the boulder, with the stream in the background. Molly looked tranquil in a yellow dress and white cardigan, a large gold-coloured ribbon fluttering in the breeze on top her head.

  It was calm and peaceful, the sky was pale blue with soft white clouds gently skimming the heavens. The breeze was warm and ambrosial. For many of the children this was being taught at its best. They would gain nothing from the nature study itself, indeed they already knew all the names of the specimens they were drawing and collecting, but the occasion would stay in their memories as pleasant and worthwhile for all time. A short escape from the harsh realities of life.

  Ann Markham whispered in Jo’s ear, ‘Miss Venner, look over there.’

  ‘I see it. Thank you, Ann.’

  A hundred yards away, Mavis Best had discovered a hare hiding in a boat-shaped depression of its own making. Mavis was standing absolutely still and the hare was lying motionless, its long black-tipped ears held back, its huge yellow eyes wide open. Turning swiftly to a new page of her sketchbook, Jo dashed off a drawing of the girl and the hare. Suddenly the hare sprang up and made its escape, its long brown body quickly disappearing behind a blaze of gorse.

  ‘Did you see it?’ Mavis delightedly called to her teacher and friends.

  ‘We did,’ Jo replied, holding up her sketchbook for Mavis to see. ‘And I’ve got a good drawing of you both.’

  A strange panting sound suddenly came from behind Jo. Molly turned round first and then screamed, leaping towards Jo and grabbing her skirt. A quiver of fear leapt up Jo’s spine.

  A large black shaggy-coated dog with a white front and white-tipped tail was creeping up on them on its haunches, in the way of a collie stalking livestock. The dog was slavering, its long tongue hanging out over sharp yellow teeth. There was dried blood on its jaws and the whiteness of its heaving chest. The creature was hungry and dangerous.

  ‘Quickly, children, get behind me and we’ll try to back away from it,’ Jo said urgently, pushing Molly behind her. Molly was sobbing in terror.

  At the sound of Jo’s voice, the dog mounted menacingly on all fours, snarling and growling low in its throat. Jo wondered frantically if any of the children had something to eat on them which she could throw to the dog. She took one step backwards and the dog, gnashing its awesome teeth, leapt forward several inches. Any moment now and it would launch itself on her or one of the children.

  ‘Run, children! Run away quickly!’ she shouted, thrusting Molly’s hands from her skirt. Rushing forward, screaming at the top of her voice, she waved her sketchbook in the air then threw it at the dog. Chaos broke out. The children, except for Molly, who curled up on the ground in a frightened ball, and Norman Pascoe, who would not get far with his stick, ran away screaming and shrieking for help.

  The dog barked and snarled. Shouting and screaming at it, Jo picked up anything to hand and hurled it at her attacker, praying it would send the creature scurrying away. Stones and twigs landed hopelessly in front of the dog. One stone hit its chest and it yelped in pain. Then, in fury, it propelled itself in the air straight at Jo.

  Jo ran, in a direction away from the children. Using all her experience of the moor, she leapt from boulder to grassy tussock, careful not to imprison her feet in a rabbit hole or trip over a root, but she knew she could not outpace the dog. She heard its heavy breathing and its pounding paws gaining on her. Closer and closer. The dog’s teeth clamped over the hem of her skirt and she was nearly shaken off balance.

  Screaming in panic, she tore on in desperate flight and the hem tore free.

  Vaguely she was aware of more children’s screams, then a barrage of stones just missing her. Arnold, Rex and the others had scrambled down from the tor and were throwing missiles at the dog.

  ‘Get out the way, miss!’ Arnold shouted shrilly.

  Jo veered to the side and, still running, glanced round to see what was happening, fearful for the children. She stopped. Panting, she watched in horror, then relief, as Arnold, Rex and their companions, whooping and catcalling, bombarded the rogue dog with rocks and stones. Finally, growling and yelping, it slunk away, seeking refuge on the open moor.

  ‘Miss Venner!’ Rex ran to her. ‘Are you hurt?’

  Jo’s arms were reaching out to him and the other children. Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Is everyone all right? Was anyone hurt?’

  Nine small pairs of hands were comforting her. ‘We’re fine, thanks to you,’ Rex said. ‘You saved the others. You were some brave.’

  ‘It’s you children who were brave,’ Jo breathed emotionally. ‘We’d better get back to the others and then hurry to the school. We must reach safety in case the dog returns.’

  ‘If it does it’ll get more stones chucked at it,’ Arnold threatened dramatically. ‘Three cheers for Miss Venner.’

  Jo was powerless to stop the children’s noisy exhilaration. It would take hours for them to calm down. There would be many excited and outlandish accounts of the dog’s attack in the homes of Parmarth this evening.

  Jo gathered all her class together, and holding Molly’s hand and her ruined sketchbook she led them back to the school, all nervously straining their eyes for signs of the wild dog.

  Long before they reached the protection of the school walls, a party of adults, Marcus at the head, came to meet them. Abner Jelbert had a shotgun hanging over his arm. The children whose parents were present ran to meet them.

  Marcus rushed to Jo. ‘We heard the commotion all over the valley. What happened?’

  Before Jo could relate the tale, Arnold piped up, ‘That dog what’s been killing the sheep attacked us. Miss Venner saved us by making it run after her. It nearly tore her skirt off.’

  ‘Good heavens!’ Marcus gasped, louder than all the other exclamations that ensued. Jo’s face was red and perspiring. Taking her sketchbook from her, he gave her his arm and escorted her to the school.

  After a debriefing, which the worried parents piled into the school to listen to, Marcus dismissed all classes for the day. The children were divided into groups, with an adult to oversee them safely home. Joel Willis was not expected back from the Carn Valley Stamp until late so Miss Teague took Kenneth to her cottage.

  Jo kept Rex and Molly with her. Rex stood guard over her and Molly clung to her hand. ‘I can hardly believe it’s happened,’ Jo said, when Marcus returned from the school gates. ‘One moment we were all enjoying the afternoon and the next we were in deadly danger. I must tell Mercy about the attack as soon as possible.’

  ‘I’ve seen to that. Russell Trevail was on his way to the schoolhouse to see Sally. I’ve asked him to send Beth here to take Rex and Molly along to her mother’s house. Trevail has gone on to Nance Farm. He said his aunt would organise a hunt for the dog. Every available man and gun will be abroad until the creature is caught.’

  Beth arrived. ‘Thank you, Beth,’ Marcus said. ‘I’m sure your mother won’t mind receiving the children early today.’

  ‘Of course she won’t,’ Beth said. ‘Sally’s making tea. I’m sure Miss Venner could do with a hot sweet cup for the shock.’

  ‘Thank you, but I don’t want to leave Rex and Molly,’ Jo said, shivering violently.

  ‘You’re in no state to care for the children,’ Marcus said, pulling Molly away from her. ‘They’ll be fine with Mrs Wherry. You can see them later.’

  Jo was feeling faint and reluctantly admitted the sense of his words. After persuading Molly to go with Rex and Beth, promising she would join them shortly, she walked with Marcus to his sitting room.

  Sitting on the sofa, she sipped the tea Sally had left for them, the cup rattling on the saucer as her hand trembled. ‘I’ve never been so scared in all my life. If it wasn’t for Rex and Arnold and the others I could have been torn to pieces and then the creature might have gone after one of them.’
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  ‘But it didn’t and apart from being badly shaken you’re safe.’ Marcus was standing close at her side. ‘Would you like a little brandy?’

  Not wanting any more tea, she passed him the crockery. ‘No, thank you. I’ll be fine when I’ve stopped shaking.’

  ‘I’ll drive you home when you’re ready.’

  ‘Thank you, Marcus.’ Leaning towards him she rested her face against his arm.

  She did not hear him catch his breath, nor was she aware of him fighting his confusion. Should he shift away from her or was he able to innocently give her the comfort she was seeking? A vision of his mother jeering at his dilemma filled his mind. Before meeting Joanna he had never been plagued with the torment that he might hurt a woman. But he had deliberately hurt Sally. He was in love with Joanna. Would it make a difference?

  He sat beside her and tentatively put his arms around her, but stayed a little remote, concentrating on his breathing to still his thumping heart. She stayed against him for two, long, bitter-sweet minutes, in which neither spoke or moved, in which he triumphed, which in turn gave him hope that a small part of him somewhere was wholesome.

  Sitting back against the sofa, Jo said, ‘Your mother may not be pleased that I’m here, even in the circumstances. Has she been giving you a difficult time?’

  ‘Telling her the truth was the best thing you could have done,’ he said softly. Eleanor had hardly spoken to him since Jo’s revelation. ‘Mama will come round when she’s over the disappointment of there being no chance of a romantic union between us.’ It hurt him to actually put it into words.

  ‘I suppose she’s clingy because you’re her only child.’ To avoid upsetting Marcus, Jo had not revealed the extent of Eleanor’s spite to her. ‘Miss Teague keeps asking me why I don’t take tea here any more.’

  ‘I’d noticed that.’ Marcus smiled. ‘I’ve explained it’s because of my mother’s failing health.’ If only it would fail more quickly. Sometimes Marcus suspected Eleanor was only pretending to be in such pain in order to spring some despicable surprise on him.