The Sixpenny Cross Collection

by Victoria Twead

“Oh, I’m sorry - did I wake you?”

  “No, I just sensed you weren’t there. What time is it?”

  “Three o’clock. Go back to sleep, I’m just popping down to the shed to feed the baby rabbits.”

  “Okay, don’t be long.”

  “I won’t be, keep the bed warm for me.”

  She smiled as Red buried his face into the pillow and knew he would be asleep before she reached the foot of the stairs.

  Bella didn’t need to turn on lights. Faithful Sadie trotted behind her, well used to this nightly vigil and not wanting to be left out.

  With a shiver, she crossed the yard, a stiff breeze making her clutch her robe more tightly about her. She entered the shed, closing the door behind herself and Sadie to keep the warmth in. Sadie flopped down as Bella switched on the lamp and drew some milk substitute up in a dropper.

  She was looking after two sets of rabbits. One set was almost ready to release into the wild, but the newborns needed her care. Very gently, she plucked the rabbit babies out of their nest and encouraged them to lick the dropper, carefully massaging each afterwards to encourage it to defecate, just as their mother would have done. So engrossed was she that she hardly noticed Sadie sit up and give a low growl.

  “Settle down, Sadie. I have three more little rabbits to do, then we’re finished and we can go back to bed.”

  The streets of Sixpenny Cross were deserted as Christine made her way towards Bella’s house. She glanced at her watch. Three o’clock. Nothing stirred apart from fallen autumn leaves caught by gusts of wind.

  The Dew Drop Inn was silent, both staff and guests in their beds. In her house, Jayne Fairweather had been asleep for hours as she needed to be up to sort the early morning newspapers. She passed the silent police house. Inside, PC Stan Cooper snored in his bed, while Tufty twitched and dreamed on the floor beside him.

  Christine smirked. The police are such idiots.

  She glanced up and down, then pushed open Bella’s newly oiled gate and walked silently up the path. She still had no plan, just a terrible need to spy on her enemy and, if she could, cause her harm.

  She pressed herself against the wall, merging into the shadows, and peered through the lounge window. She could see nothing inside but automatically tested the window with the tips of her gloved hand. It no longer surprised her that so many people didn’t lock their windows at night and, once again, she wasn’t disappointed. The window yielded and she quietly pushed it fully open. She paused to consider her options.

  Shall I climb in? It’d be easy...

  Then she had a better idea.

  Reaching through the window, she grabbed a handful of Bella’s new curtain and pulled it outside. She inspected the fabric, appreciating its quality before she flicked her cigarette lighter.

  Flame met fabric.

  At first the curtain only smouldered a little, but then a small flame grew. She watched the fire slowly take hold, the flickering light reflected in her small eyes, bright with excitement, and her thin lips twisted in a smile.

  She replaced the curtain but didn’t move. She was not a natural arsonist but the growing fire fascinated her. She stared as the yellow flames began to light up the room showing the comfortable and tastefully arranged furnishings. She opened the window a little more, allowing the autumn breeze to fan the flames.

  Whoosh!

  Now all the curtains were alight and the flames were spreading fast.

  It satisfied Christine that she was destroying Bella’s possessions. That Bella might be in danger meant nothing, if she died it would be the icing on the cake.

  Christine turned away from the house and walked back to the Dew Drop Inn. Once, a pair of headlights approached, but she slunk into the shadows and nobody saw her come or go.

  In the shed in the backyard, Bella was finishing off.

  “That’s the last bunny fed, then,” she said as she placed the baby rabbit next to its siblings. “Time for bed, Sadie.”

  Together they crossed the yard, but as Bella pushed the kitchen door open, Sadie hung back.

  “What’s the matter, girl?”

  Bella smelled the smoke before she saw it. Grey curls were wafting into the kitchen and the orange flicker of flames could be seen beyond.

  “Red!” she screamed. “RED! Wake up!”

  There was no answer.

  No time to lose.

  Grabbing a towel from the counter, she quickly wet it and pressed it to her face. She headed for the source of the fire, the living room. Through the thick smoke, Bella saw that two chairs were already on fire and the wallpaper and carpet were smoking. She briefly noted that the living room window was wide open but now was not the time to think about such things. Flames licked the walls and the telephone was now out of reach. Smoke had escaped out of the room and was floating up the stairs.

  Bella slammed the door shut and flew up the stairs taking them two at a time.

  “RED! FIRE!”

  No answer.

  The bedroom was already filled with smoke and Red was not moving.

  “Red! Wake up! We have to get out! The house is on fire!”

  With her free hand, Bella grabbed hold of Red’s shoulder but no amount of shaking would wake him.

  Bella flung open the bedroom window, lowering the wet cloth to shout an alarm.

  “Help! HELP ME! Fire!” she screamed.

  She turned back, ever mindful that, at any moment, the fire could block her exit at the bottom of the stairs. Now she needed both hands and so transferred the wet cloth to Red’s unconscious face. Coughing, she grabbed him under the armpits and, using all her strength, dragged his inert body out of the bedroom to the top of the stairs.

  “Red! You have to wake up! We’ve got to get out of the house!”

  But Red was in another place and her pleas went unheard. The crackling of flames was growing ever louder and smoke continued to seep from under the living room door. Bella knew the flames could explode through the door at any second.

  Somehow, she manoeuvered him down the stairs, cruelly bumping his body on every step. At the foot of the stairs the heat was intense. But Bella had reached her limit.

  “Don’t let him die,” she croaked. “Don’t let him die.”

  Coughing and sobbing, she crawled on her hands and knees, up the hall, away from Red’s lifeless body, desperate to find help. She didn’t get far. Smoke inhalation had taken its deadly toll. Bella slumped, unconscious.

  18

  PC Stan Cooper was so deep in thought that he absentmindedly stirred his tea with his biro. Both Red and Bella Jenkins had nearly lost their lives that night. There was no doubt that they were minutes from death and owed everything to the quick-acting van driver who raised the alarm. The driver had hammered on the door of the police house, raising not only Stan Cooper, but several neighbours.

  The van driver arriving just then was nothing short of a miracle, he mused. If I was a believer, I’d think Mr and Mrs Tait were watching over their daughter that night.

  Somebody phoned the Fire Brigade, while others rushed to the house to find both Bella and Red unconscious. As they were dragged out, the Fire Brigade arrived and took charge. The fire was put out before it could spread.

  Outside, Bella gasped fresh air and regained consciousness immediately, but Red took longer. An ambulance arrived from Yewbridge and both were taken away for treatment.

  PC Cooper had just finished speaking with Yewbridge Fire Department and their findings were puzzling. Their investigation concluded that the fire at Bella Jenkins’ home had begun in the corner of the living room, but no trace of fire accelerant had been found. That made arson seem unlikely. However, there was also no evidence of faulty electrical wiring, or, indeed, any other cause.

  So how did the fire start?

  Not everybody appreciated that Stan’s amiable, clumsy exterior hid a sharp detective brain. Also, having been born in the village, he was familiar with all the residents and privy to many village secrets. His forehea
d furrowed in thought as he applied himself to the mystery.

  Did Red and Bella Jenkins have any enemies?

  He knew that Bella Jenkins and Christine Dayton had never been friends, but were they mortal enemies? He couldn’t imagine Bella being unkind to anybody, but what about Christine?

  Stan cast his mind back to the time when Jayne Fairweather had reported a theft from the till in the Post Office. Mrs Fairweather had thought she’d seen Christine Dayton skulking in the shadows. That same night, somebody stole Bella’s bicycle and slashed her father’s car tyres. Coincidence? Probably not. He knew Christine had spent time in prison for theft and she was more than capable of slashing tyres.

  And then there was that strange incident of Donald Tait’s severed brake cable. Had Christine Dayton been behind that? But nobody had seen her in the village at that time, so he’d kept his suspicions to himself.

  So what happened the night of the fire?

  Two facts kept niggling him. Bella had said that she’d noticed that the lounge window was open. When he questioned her, she didn’t remember opening it, and she didn’t think Red had either. It was a cold autumn night and they would have kept the windows and curtains closed.

  “Was the window locked?” Stan had asked.

  “Probably not,” Bella had admitted.

  The second fact bothered him, too. Was it coincidence that Christine Dayton had been staying at the Dew Drop Inn that very night? Angus McDonald, the landlord, had seen nothing. Neither had any of the guests staying there at the time. Everybody in the village, including Christine Dayton, had declared they were fast asleep in their beds.

  To imagine that Christine had left her warm bed and crept out in the early hours of the morning to set fire to Bella’s house seemed highly unlikely.

  Or was it?

  Jayne Fairweather set the tray on the bedside table, and poured tea into the two awaiting cups. On the rug, Sadie sat up and wagged her tail. Jayne patted her absently then turned to the bed.

  “Morning! How are you feeling, my dear?” she asked her guest.

  “My throat’s still sore, but otherwise not too bad, thanks, Auntie Jayne.”

  “Here, drink this tea. It’ll help. The doctor said to drink plenty of fluids.”

  Jayne sat on Bella’s bed and they sipped their tea, both lost in their own thoughts.

  “Just imagine if the newspaper delivery van hadn’t driven past just then. And what if the driver hadn’t noticed the smoke and flames?” Bella asked for the hundredth time.

  “It doesn’t bear thinking about,” said Jayne, shaking her head. “And if you hadn’t been outside, feeding those baby rabbits in the shed, you’d both be...”

  Bella shuddered. Death had been close.

  “If you’re feeling okay, we’ll drive over to Yewbridge Hospital and see Red later, shall we?”

  “Yes, thank you,” said Bella.

  “I was talking to Stan Cooper,” said Jayne. “He told me that it’s still a mystery how the fire started.”

  “Yes, I know. I’m positive we didn’t leave anything electrical on. Maybe it was a loose wire somewhere.”

  “I’m sure they’ll find out eventually.” Jayne said, then remembered something. “Hey, you’ll never guess who’s staying at the Dew Drop for a few days.”

  Bella waited.

  “Christine Dayton! She can’t seem to stay away from Sixpenny Cross, although the Lord only knows why she keeps coming back.”

  “I haven’t seen Christine for years,” said Bella. “I wonder what she’s been up to?”

  Until the house was repaired, Bella and Sadie would be staying with Jayne Fairweather. Thanks to the quick actions of the Fire Brigade, the destruction was limited to the living room, which had been gutted, while the rest of the house suffered from smoke damage.

  With Jayne busy at the Post Office, much of Bella’s time was spent alone. Red was getting stronger every day and would soon be discharged from hospital, but for now, she had time on her hands.

  She made daily visits to the shed in her backyard. The baby rabbits were doing well, and no longer needed their nightly feed. The older rabbits were now six weeks old and ready to be set free.

  Bella dusted out the pet carrier, lined it with newspaper and popped the two rabbits inside. She decided that the open fields might not be a safe place to release them, and, leaving Sadie at home, she headed instead for Sixpenny Woods. It was a chilly day, and the track was deserted.

  “Bella.”

  The voice stopped Bella in her tracks.

  “Christine, how are you? I haven’t seen you in a long time.” she said. “I heard you’re staying at the Dew Drop.”

  “Yeah, just for a few days.”

  “I’m just looking for a spot to let these young rabbits go, they’re big enough to fend for themselves now. Want to join me?”

  “Yeah, why not.”

  Christine fell into step with Bella and the pair of them walked together into the woods.

  “So where are you living now?” asked Bella.

  “London. I got a great job, pays really well.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I ’eard about your ’ouse nearly burning down and all,” said Christine. “Do they know what ’appened?”

  “No, they’ve no idea what started the fire. My husband, Red, could have died. Well, we both could have. Luckily we were rescued in time and he’s going to be all right.”

  They walked on, and the tree branches met above them, blocking out much of the light.

  “Spooky place, this, isn’t it?” remarked Christine, her eyelid beginning to flicker. “You could die in ’ere and nobody would find you for ages.”

  “I’m heading for the clearing by the Wishing Rock,” Bella said, ignoring the observation. “That’ll be a perfect place to let the rabbits go.”

  “I used to come ’ere when I was young,” Christine said. “I used to carve my name on the tree trunks with my knife. I’ve always carried a knife. Never know when you might need it. Look, ’ere it is.”

  Christine’s hand darted to her pocket and emerged with a flick knife.

  19

  “That looks dangerous,” Bella said nervously. “Put it away.”

  Christine hesitated for a moment, grinned, then slipped the knife back into her pocket.

  When they reached the rock, Bella opened the carrier.

  “This spot will do nicely,” she said. “Come on, bunnies, I’m setting you free.”

  The two young rabbits sat on their haunches for a few seconds, testing the air with twitching noses. Then they bounded away into the thicket, white tails bobbing.

  “I’ve been meaning to climb the Wishing Rock,” said Bella. “I know it’s probably a lot of superstitious nonsense, but my parents always said they believed it had special powers.”

  She looked directly at Christine for the first time.

  “Do you fancy climbing the rock for old time’s sake?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Bella took the lead. She tugged at the ivy on the rock, testing it. Her toe found a foothold, and she began to climb. Christine scrambled up behind her. It wasn’t an easy climb and neither young woman spoke as she concentrated on where next to place her hands and feet. Christine was quick and light, but Bella was stronger. At last they were both at the top, sitting side by side on the narrow outcrop, just like Donald and June Tait had done more than twenty years before.

  Bella brushed the dirt from her hands.

  “So here we are,” she said brightly. “On top of the Wishing Rock.”

  For a while, they sat together, side by side, neither girl speaking. Bella was the first to break the silence. She took a deep breath.

  “Christine, I know how the fire started in my house. I saw you that night.”

  Christine was caught off guard. Her head jerked round to face Bella, her eyes full of hatred.

  “So what? You can’t prove it!”

  It was at that moment that Bella knew, without
a shadow of a doubt, that Christine was responsible.

  “Actually I didn’t see you, Christine, I guessed. But now I know it was you.”

  Christine’s hand flashed towards the knife in her pocket, but Bella was faster. She grabbed Christine’s bony wrist, preventing her from reaching the weapon.

  “Let go! You’re hurting me!”

  “That knife isn’t going to help you now, Christine. You set fire to my house, and you nearly killed Red. I’ll never forgive you for that. I’ve always thought you had something to do with my dad’s accident, that brake cable in his car didn’t cut itself. In fact, nearly every bad thing that has ever happened to me was caused by you. Let me see… My bike going missing, I bet that was you.”

  Christine tried again to pull free, but could not escape Bella’s powerful grip.

  “I bet you loved hearing about my parents’ death, didn’t you? But still you wouldn’t leave me alone. You’ve stalked me for as long as I can remember. But it stops now.”

  Christine glared at her.

  “I felt sorry for you when I was little,” Bella continued. “I tried to help you, but it never made any difference. You hated me whatever I did. And you know what? I bet I know what you’re wishing right now. You’re wishing you’d never climbed this rock with me, aren’t you?”

  “Let go! You’re gonna make us both fall off the bloody rock!” Christine hissed.

  It was the last sentence she ever uttered.

  “Not me,” said Bella. “You.”

  One sharp push was all it took. Christine fell, and her head struck a rocky outcrop on the way down. She hit the ground with a dull thud and lay still, a trickle of blood seeping from her ear.

  It was a full two minutes before Bella could even move.

  What have I done?

  She was terrified at what she’d see at the bottom and her legs shook uncontrollably as she clambered down the rock. Christine’s lifeless corpse was heaped on the ground, one hand clutching an ivy tendril she had grabbed on her way down in a futile attempt to break the fall. Sightless eyes stared at nothing.