Listening to the Quiet

by Listening to the Quiet (retail) (epub)

  ‘Yes, please. Is Vigus about to leave Parmarth again?’

  ‘I don’t know, sir.’

  ‘You are charitable to sleep in that place. I understand his mother still manages to be continually inebriated. I wish you well of it, Beth. I’ve seen the unpleasant conditions in the cottage.’

  ‘Mrs Vigus is no trouble when she’s in that state,’ Beth said, as she made the coffee. It was true, Jessie had neither the strength nor the coordination to be a worry. Beth suspected Luke was somehow keeping his mother in drink. ‘It gives me the opportunity to pray for her soul.’

  Shortly after lunch, which he ate alone in his study, Marcus was on his way to Nance Farm on foot to collect a horse for himself and lead another to Cardhu for Joanna. On reaching the patch of willows Mardie Dawes frequented to peddle her wares, he looked about warily for her. His heart missed a beat when he spied two pairs of eyes blinking at him through the foliage.

  ‘Rex. Molly. Good morning to you.’ He presumed correctly that they were hiding from him.

  Molly remained camouflaged. Rex emerged sheepishly, then stood up on the bank, face dirty, short trousers muddy and ripped, staring insolently. ‘Morning, sir.’

  ‘Are you enjoying the holiday?’ Marcus asked him conversationally.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘You will be careful on the moors? The ruins of the Solace Mine are obvious, but there are many shafts which are concealed and dangerous.’

  ‘I know where they are,’ Rex boasted.

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it. How is your mother?’

  ‘She’s gone off again. Luke was cooking our dinner before he went to Pendeen on business, but he’s out looking for her.’

  ‘I hope he finds her safe and well. Well, I must be on my way. I’m going riding.’ He left the little brother and sister astonished that he had stopped and chatted in such a friendly fashion.

  As Marcus continued towards Nance his mind was full of Luke’s character. He was surprised to learn he had actually been cooking the children a meal but there was very little else to recommend him. How was it possible, Marcus asked himself, that he did not allow himself the same consideration as Vigus did? To love Joanna, to form a relationship with her, perhaps even be her lover. Was he not being too hard on himself? He was sexually amoral but was he allowing this harsh fact to overshadow what was good and honourable in himself? He had been celibate for some weeks now, the longest period in his adult life, and he was not finding it as difficult as the loneliness of being without the companionship of a woman.

  I’m the one rejecting the idea of having Joanna for myself, he told the remoteness of the moor. If Luke Vigus can have her, for all his faults and worthlessness, why not me?

  * * *

  Russell rolled off Sally for the second time in half an hour, bruising the new curling green fronds of the ferns.

  Sally straightened her clothes then laid her head on his stomach, which was agitating in the aftermath of their fierce exercise. She stared up moodily at the inner walls of the mine ruins. Russell was clumsy and too lazy to learn what pleased her.

  ‘When are we getting married?’ Russell asked suddenly.

  Sally made an impatient noise. ‘I’ve told you before. As soon as Mrs Lidgey’s given me what she’s promised.’

  ‘You can’t believe the likes of her. She won’t give you an expensive piece of jewellery just for carrying tales. You can still work for the old woman after we’re married, just in case she keeps her word.’ Russell was impatient to make Sally his wife, afraid she would forsake him and go off with someone else, or make her way to Penzance to work in a pub, as she had threatened during a teasy moment.

  ‘Stop grumbling, Russell,’ she exclaimed, ‘or I’ll go home.’

  There came a peculiar cackling sound above them. The couple looked up. Silhouetted against the engine-house wall was a figure, breathing heavily, hideous. Sally screamed in terror.

  Russell pushed her aside and leapt to his feet. ‘Bloody hell, what do you think you’re doing, spying on us, you old hag? Get away! Luke’s looking for you.’

  ‘Having a bit of fun?’ Jessie Vigus tittered, swaying on her bare feet. ‘Can I join you?’ She was in her soiled blue dressing gown.

  Sally scampered away on all fours, huddling against the engine-house wall. ‘Get her away from us, Russell.’

  ‘You heard me,’ Russell shouted at the intruder. ‘Get back home, you beastly witch.’

  Jessie ripped open the tie of the dressing gown and pulled the garment apart. She was naked underneath. ‘C-come on, Russell,’ she hiccupped. ‘Enjoy yourself with me. It’ll only cost you two shilling.’ She stretched out her withered arms to him. ‘I know you like a good romp.’

  ‘Shut your mouth!’ he shrieked, pushing the loathsome woman away from him. ‘You know what I’ll do to you if you make trouble for me.’

  Awash with gin, weak from virtual starvation, Jessie fell like a stone. She groaned, struggled to get up.

  ‘Stay where you are!’ Russell drew back his foot and kicked her viciously in the head.

  Sally crept up to him and grabbed his arm. ‘You’ve hurt her.’

  ‘Shut up.’ In dread, he bent down to the mother of his child and gingerly touched the side of her neck. Thank God, she was breathing. ‘She’s out of it. Sleeping off another drunken binge. We’ll leave her here. She can’t come to no harm in the fresh air.’

  Sally was still shaking minutes later as they tramped back to the village. ‘She was like something out of a nightmare.’ She clung to Russell’s arm. ‘I don’t want to go there again. I’d be too afraid she’d turn up. You don’t think she was watching as we…?’

  ‘No, she would’ve jumped out on us before.’ Russell’s thoughts were coldly alert. ‘Don’t tell anyone we’ve seen her. She could accuse me of assault.’ It would be thought she had fallen down in a drunken stupor.

  * * *

  Jessie regained consciousness twenty minutes later. She took her painful headache for granted, the same result after every drinking bout. The wind was picking up and howling through the mine ruins. Afraid the mine knockers – malicious sprites – would come for her and cast her down into the blackness, she levered herself up on her elbows and gradually, swaying, lurching, got to her feet. Dizziness overwhelmed her and she lost her bearings. She stumbled about, the bright sunlight and the pain in her head forcing her to keep her eyes closed.

  Minutes later, she screamed and screamed as she plunged down the one hundred and thirty-five fathoms of Pike’s Shaft.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Rex passed Jo a note just before she took afternoon registration. ‘It’s from Luke,’ he whispered, eyeing the class warily.

  ‘Is it about why Molly’s not attending today?’ Jo opened the note. There was nothing written about Molly. It was a plea from Luke for her to see him as soon as possible. ‘Thank you, Rex. Would you like to wait here a minute then take the register to Mr Lidgey?’

  Rex smiled broadly. She had offered him the most prestigious errand. Although Molly was still having difficulties at school, and was often poorly and absent, because Rex never backed down when Arnold and his gang teased him, he was gaining their respect. He could cope with very easy sums, and while unable to master ‘big words’ in reading, his writing had improved.

  ‘Thank you, Rex.’ Marcus ran his eyes over the boy while taking the register from him. He had become one of the cleanest and tidiest children in the school, thanks to Beth and her mother, and the gentle concern of the young woman in the next classroom.

  After the children had gone home, Jo quickly packed away the last of the things from the girls’ needlework class. Miss Teague admired the little pinafores they were making. ‘Whose is the one with the pretty cross stitch on the bib?’

  ‘It’s Gillian Jelbert’s. Believe it or not, she’s quite artistic. I’m sure she’ll win the needlework prize at the end of the year for her fine sewing. She would make an excellent tailor with proper training. I
’ll suggest it to her parents. Well, I must get on.’

  Jo was eager to see Luke. The words of his note had haunted her all afternoon. ‘Dear Jo, Please come over strait after school. Need you. Luke.’ Could it have something to do with Jessie’s disappearance? With no clue to her whereabouts as darkness fell on the day she had wandered off, Luke had called on Davey Penoble and half a dozen other men and formed a search party. They had drawn no luck nor on the subsequent day, when the constable had been informed, and after a week it was assumed Jessie had roamed too far this time and was lost for good.

  ‘I must be going too,’ Miss Teague said, smiling faintly. ‘I’ve a letter to post. Still no news of Mrs Vigus, I suppose?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not.’ Jo hid her impatience. No one in the village cared about Jessie Vigus. Miss Teague was only after gossip. Jo was concerned that evil whispers were changing lips. Lew had refused to join in the search for Jessie. ‘Luke’s probably done her to death. There’s plenty of mineshafts he could’ve chucked her down and there’s the cliffs to push a lying old bitch like she over. If so, she deserved it and he deserves the right justice for it.’ Jo had warned him to keep his dangerous, unfair opinions to himself, but there were moments when she recalled Luke’s threat to kill Jessie.

  Marcus appeared brandishing some mail in his hand. ‘Miss Teague, did I hear you say you are going to post a letter? Would you kindly take these too?’

  ‘Certainly, Mr Lidgey. Good day to you both.’

  At the last echo of Miss Teague’s footsteps, Marcus smiled at Jo. ‘Could I detain you for a few moments, Joanna? Now that the final legal requirements for your trust fund are set up, I think now would be a good time for you to approach the Markhams and bring up the subject of an assisted scholarship for Ann.’

  Jo was filled with anticipation at the good her gift might bring. ‘I wish to remain anonymous, Marcus. It’s likely to cause complications if people know I am behind it. They could spurn it as charity, and I’m not a favoured person in the village at the moment. It would be better if you saw the Markhams.’

  ‘I think that would be wise, but don’t worry, the locals will come round to admiring you again, as you so richly deserve. I wish there was at least one boy worthy of a scholarship this year, but Norman Pascoe’s written work is beginning to look promising.’ He wanted to keep her talking, he enjoyed her company so very much, but she was ready to leave. It would be a long session marking exercise books for him, then afterwards anything else he could think of to delay going home.

  * * *

  To hurry things along while waiting for Jo, Luke gave Rex and Molly their tea, sent Molly to bed and Rex outside to play, then he fetched Marylyn from Mrs Wherry. He made his own front door as Jo hurried across the road towards him.

  ‘Is something the matter?’ She took Marylyn from him and entered the tiny cottage.

  ‘The Welfare people were here this morning.’ He sighed long and hard as Jo showered Marylyn with affection. ‘Someone’s told them my mother’s gone missing and how she was living before she disappeared. How I was giving her booze every day.’

  Jo’s heart sank. ‘I see. And?’

  He shook his head angrily. ‘I told them it was a lie about the drink but I don’t think they were convinced. They aren’t happy about the situation, even though they could see the place is no longer in squalor, that Mrs Wherry’s practically fostering the kids and Beth’s sleeping overnight while I’m away. I said Beth gets the kids to Sunday School. It wasn’t good enough. They said I’ve got to make proper permanent arrangements for the them.

  ‘But I have to go on the road, Jo,’ he cried despairingly. ‘I can’t sell enough goods round here to come home every night.’ He probably could, but the thought was abhorrent to him. ‘I can’t let the kids go into an orphanage. It’d be the end of Molly and I might never see ’em all again. What can I do?’

  Jo felt as if she was losing all her energy. ‘Let’s sit down and talk about it, Luke. I’m sure we can come up with something.’

  They sat on the couch, Marylyn on Jo’s lap. Before he said another word he gave Jo an earnest kiss.

  ‘One thing’s for sure,’ Jo said vehemently, making Marylyn chuckle by tickling her dribbly chin. ‘I’ll never let Marylyn be brought up in an orphanage, and I couldn’t bear that for Rex and Molly.’

  Luke lit a cigarette. He tugged on a tress of hair falling in front of Jo’s ear. ‘I could tell that interfering bunch of bas— official nosey parkers, that you ’n’ me are getting married. They’d leave us alone if they believe a respectable schoolteacher is to become the kids’ new mother.’

  Jo’s jaw dropped. ‘Luke, I—’

  ‘I know you don’t want to give up your job.’ He smiled disarmingly. ‘We could just say we’re getting married soon to get the Welfare off my back. Things should settle down then and we’ll carry on as now. You don’t object to that, do you, sweetheart? It’s not really a lie. We haven’t talked about it but I s’pose we’ll get married one day, won’t we?’

  ‘I want nothing more than for us to get married in the future, darling. But the present situation for the children shouldn’t be allowed to carry on. Luke, now your mother seems to have gone for good, have you considered getting in touch with your cousin at Germoe?’

  ‘Maud is very duty-conscious but why should she help me? She’s miles away and probably has a family of her own.’

  Jo asked him carefully. ‘Do you ever wonder who your father is?’

  ‘I’d break his bloody neck if I knew,’ he said heatedly. ‘My mother was only a fourteen-year-old maid when he went with her. It ended with me being born and her downfall. I hope he’s dead.’ He secretly hoped his mother was dead and her body would never be found so he would not have to fork out for a funeral. It would be too awful, damned unfair, if she returned and caused more complications. ‘Anyway, you’re forgetting, the kids all have different fathers and Lew Trevail doesn’t recognise Marylyn. It’s my problem, Jo. With your consent I’m sure it’ll be sorted.’

  ‘I understand how you feel. Luke, I have had another idea. You’ve been looking for someone to take on the children, but why not buy a house and employ a nanny to care for them? I don’t mean the sort of nanny that I was used to, but a kind and caring woman, perhaps a couple, who would rear them properly as if in a family. Please don’t be offended at what I’m going to say next. You haven’t got the sort of funds to buy a house. I have. I’d like to buy a house for the children.’

  Luke was quiet for a while, smoking heavily, his features rigid. ‘No. I won’t have that. They’re not your flesh and blood.’

  ‘It’s what I want to do, for them and for your peace of mind, darling. I didn’t have to get involved with you. It was my choice and I’ll never regret it. Let me do this for all of you.’

  ‘No,’ he repeated firmly, crushing the cigarette butt between his fingers. ‘It’s a good idea and I love you for thinking of it but I won’t have you taking over my responsibilities. I could rent something bigger and better than this place. I’ll advertise in the newspapers for someone like you spoke of, someone looking for work and a place to live.’ He got up from the couch. ‘The Welfare should be satisfied with that once I’ve got the kids out of this godforsaken dump. They left their address. I’ll write to ’em later. You’ll have to help me with the right words.’

  Jo reached for his hand and kissed it tenderly. He seemed depressed. She knew her suggestion had eaten away at his pride. ‘I’ve got some stationery in my handbag.’

  Rex came in from his play as she was giving Marylyn her evening bottle. ‘Where’s Luke?’ he asked cautiously.

  ‘He’s seeing to Lucky. He’ll be back shortly,’ she replied.

  He was looking at the stationery she had put on the table. ‘You got a spare envelope?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ She took another envelope out of her handbag. The boy hid it behind his back. ‘Are you going to write to someone?’

  ‘Father Christmas,’ Rex
said, looking down awkwardly. ‘He always forgets to come here. I thought I’d send him a letter early this year.’ Jo stroked his arm sentimentally, and acutely embarrassed, he added, ‘You won’t tell Luke, will you? He’ll laugh at me.’

  ‘I promise I won’t say a word. Here you are.’ She gave him a spare stamp. ‘Do you know the address?’

  ‘Yes. The North Pole. I’ll write it upstairs.’ He paused at the rope ladder. ‘Thanks, Miss Venner.’

  ‘I’m happy to help in any way I can, Rex. You only have to ask.’

  ‘You’re better than my mother,’ he said ardently. ‘I hope she never comes back!’

  As he climbed up to the loft, Jo thought it unlikely Jessie would be found alive and she felt a moment of pity for the contemptible woman.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Fern Field was more overgrown than Katherine Venner remembered, but she had not forgotten a single moment of her assignations here with Bob Merrick. It was difficult at first to distinguish the path to their old meeting place. She forced her way through a mass of flowering brambles and clumps of dark green ferns to reach the centre of an accommodating assemblage of giant boulders, the silent stones which had hidden her and Bob as they had laughed and loved together.

  With her clothes snagged and exposed skin scratched, she sat down on the dry firm ground, resting her face on her drawn-up knees. She was wearing jodhpurs, a light jacket and headscarf; years before it had been a long-skirted riding habit and formal hat.

  She had come back here but Bob was dead. Shot and killed while going over the top of one of those barbaric trenches in the Third Battle of Ypres. He would still be alive if he had listened to her pleas not to enlist, but Bob had wanted ‘to do his bit’, even though he was in a reserved occupation; no shame attached to farming throughout the war. She regretted not coming back before. No one would know the grief she had borne. The granite enclosure was a secret memorial to Bob. If only she could sculpt his name on a boulder, with the words from one of the love poems he had penned for her, poems she still kept.