Tom brought Verity up-to-date on where and what Zillah was doing but admitted he had not seen her for some days.
‘That’s a pity. I was hoping I might have an opportunity to meet her while I was here. I have been thinking of her rather a lot in recent weeks because I have a feeling she is a quite exceptional girl. It is probably because I think you have a good eye for someone out of the ordinary. You certainly recognized the potential in Millie Farmer. She is not only extremely intelligent and possessing more than her share of common sense, but she is also quick to learn.’
‘I’m pleased. Her father will be too, he was very concerned in case he was committing his daughter to a life of sin by allowing her to go off and be a nurse.’
‘He has nothing at all to worry about. Millie is a very moral girl and I really don’t know how I could manage without her now. She has already lifted a great deal of work from my shoulders, whilst at the same time learning many of the nursing skills that have older women struggling. I am truly grateful to you for finding her for me, Tom.’
Chapter 29
VERITY’S WISH TO meet with Zillah was unexpectedly fulfilled the following day when the young gypsy girl paid an unprecedented visit to the Bodmin Police headquarters in search of Tom, riding from Gassick Farm in her usual manner, with no saddle and mounted on the pony she had broken in herself.
It was a Sunday and when she had convinced the sergeant in charge of the duty office that she was known to Tom and had some important information for him – and him alone – he directed her to the local church where one of the constables had reported seeing him attending the morning service with Superintendent and Mrs Hawke and their guest.
The service was over by the time she arrived, but the vicar was standing outside the church chatting to one of his churchwardens. Whilst not telling this rather wild gypsy where they actually lived, he was able to direct her to the road along which they would be travelling on their way to the Hawke home, adding in a disapproving manner that she would no doubt be able to catch up with them, riding as she was in such an unorthodox and unladylike manner.
Putting her mount into a brisk canter she soon sighted the party ahead of her, Tom driving with Amos beside him, while the two women were seated in the back of the wagonette.
It was Verity who first saw the rider rapidly catching up with them and called out to the men. ‘We are being pursued by what appears to be a rather wild-looking girl on a horse. I suppose it couldn’t be your gypsy girl, Tom?’
‘I doubt—’ Looking over his shoulder as he spoke, he broke off suddenly. ‘It is her … it’s Zillah!’
Hauling back on the reins he brought the horse and wagonette to a halt as Zillah reached them. ‘Zillah, what are you doing off the moor, has something happened?’
After a quick glance at the two women in the vehicle who were looking at her with great interest, Zillah addressed Tom. ‘I don’t know if it’s something you’d rather we spoke of in private. It’s about the shawl I made for baby Albert.’
Both Amos and Tom were immediately interested and Amos said quickly, ‘Everyone here knows about the case, Zillah.’ Pointing to each of the women in the wagonette in turn, he said, ‘This is Verity Pendleton who has been able to help us by gathering information from outside the county, and this is Talwyn, my wife … but, of course, if you have some new information for us it might be better if we discussed it in private.’
‘Why don’t you come home with us, Zillah?’ Talwyn suggested. ‘You can stay and have some lunch with us.’
Both women in the wagonette were dressed for church, while Zillah was her usual self, bareheaded and shoeless with the hem of her dress rising above her knees as a result of her unladylike riding position.
‘I’m not dressed to go into anyone’s house,’ Zillah replied, making it a statement of fact and not an apology, ‘and I need to return to Gassick for grandma.’
‘What a pity,’ Verity said, ‘and you are the only one of us sensible enough to come out dressed for the weather. I can’t wait to get back to Amos and Talwyn’s home and take some of this off.’
‘Verity is quite right,’ Talwyn said, ‘but at least come to the house, Zillah. I am so sorry about your father but I know how determined Amos and Tom are to catch whoever is responsible. They have both mentioned you so often I feel as though I know you myself and I’ve been longing to meet you.’
When Zillah looked uncertainly at Tom, he mouthed the word ‘please’ soundlessly and, nodding her head in Talwyn’s direction, she said, ‘All right, you ride on and I’ll follow … but I won’t be able to stop for too long.’
‘Splendid! Wouldn’t you rather ride with us in the wagonette, Zillah, then we could chat as we go along?’
Shaking her head, Zillah said, ‘The pony wouldn’t let anyone else ride her and she’d play up and probably break free or hurt herself if she was tied behind a moving cart.’
Accepting her explanation, the party set off with Zillah either riding behind them or alongside, as the road allowed. When the Hawke home was reached and Zillah dismounted but hung back, Verity was particularly attentive to her, commenting on a scar that was barely visible on the gypsy girl’s bare arm. Zillah explained that it had been caused by a fall from a moving caravan, when she was a small girl.
‘Who treated it for you?’ she asked.
‘My Dado, he was very good at treating injuries of both animals and people.’
‘He made an excellent job of it, Zillah, most people having a cut of that length and obvious depth would have been left with an ugly scar for life. Yours can hardly be seen. I wish I had been able to meet him and learn his secret.’
Praise of her late father made Zillah more at ease with them and when Verity went on to praise the sketches Zillah had given to Tom it opened up conversation between them even more,. However, when the gypsy girl entered the house and saw the comparative opulence of its furnishings compared with anything she had known she fell silent once more.
This time it was Tom who came to her rescue by bringing up the subject of the shawl.
‘You said you had some information for us about the shawl, Zillah, is there something else you remember about it that might make it even easier for us to recognize?’
‘It’s more than that, Tom, I’ve seen it!’
There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone in the room; and, much to the frustration of Talwyn and Verity, Amos said, ‘This could be very important news indeed, Zillah. I think we should go outside to the garden and you can tell Sergeant Churchyard and me all about it.’
Both Verity and Talwyn were familiar with police investigations and aware that if Zillah’s information was of a sensitive nature it should not be discussed in the presence of anyone not actually involved in the case. Although deeply curious about what she had to tell, they curbed their curiosity, knowing Amos would tell them in due course, if at all possible.
When the men and Zillah had left the room, Verity said, ‘What a very pretty girl … and intelligent too. It is hardly surprising Tom is so smitten with her.’
Grimacing, Talwyn said, ‘Unfortunately there can be no future in it for either of them. Tom is very well thought of in the Cornwall Constabulary but the chief constable would never allow one of his men to marry a gypsy, or even a half-gypsy, as Zillah is. She would be a pariah among her own people too if she became involved with a policeman.’
‘What a sad world we live in, Talwyn. I thought that last night when Amos was telling us about that poor man whose wife was murdered. His Indian wife was quite obviously born into a rich and influential family, yet she would never have been accepted by any of the Europeans with whom her husband worked. I learned this lesson when I was working in India and had some extremely intelligent Indian girls nursing my patients there. I found it very frustrating at times … but I must not bore you with my thoughts on such matters. When I last stayed with you I saw some sketches made by Zillah, does Amos still have them in his office, or have they been retur
ned to her?’
‘Neither, he brought them home because he doesn’t want to risk having them mislaid at police headquarters.’
‘Oh good! May I see them again, please? I was talking about them to an artist friend of mine in London … a woman artist, no less, and one who is very well thought of in the London art world. She thought it fascinating that a gypsy girl should show such talent without having had any formal training. I would like to be assured I was not deluding myself by praising the sketches to her.’
‘I don’t think you were, I am very impressed with them too. I’ll go and fetch them now and we’ll look at them together while the men are outside talking to Zillah.’
Chapter 30
IN THE GARDEN the two policemen sat at the rustic table with Zillah, and Amos came straight to the point. ‘I appreciate you coming here to tell us about the shawl, Zillah, tell us exactly where it is you’ve seen it.’
‘Well, the people in the villages on our side of the moor have known for a year or two that I do crochet work and Dado sometimes sold my work to them. One of the ladies in North Hill had ordered a shawl for herself and I finished it this week, so took it to her yesterday. She was very pleased with it and after she had paid me and I was leaving her house we were talking at the garden gate when a woman came by with a number of small children with her and a baby in her arms. The baby was wrapped in a shawl that was much better than the scruffy clothes the rest of the children were wearing … and I thought I recognized it. I didn’t know the woman and she wanted nothing to do with me at first, but I said I would like to see the baby and give it a Romany blessing and when she eventually let me hold the baby’s hand I was able to have a close look at the shawl. There’s no doubt about it at all … it’s the one I made for Kerensa Morgan’s baby!’
‘Are you absolutely certain, Zillah?’ Amos was excited by her news, but her information was so important he needed reassurance. ‘Certain enough to stand up in a courtroom and swear to it?’
‘Nobody said anything about a courtroom to me….’
‘It shouldn’t come to that,’ Tom said quickly, ‘You’ve positively identified the shawl and we should be able to take it from there, but did you learn the name of the baby’s mother?’
‘Yes, the woman I’d delivered the new shawl to told me. Her name is Martha Kendall. She’s married to a miner and lives near North Hill, at Berriow Bridge and has a new baby boy.’
‘Did she tell you how she came by the shawl? Was it given to her by her husband.’ Amos asked the questions eagerly. George Kendall had been the number one suspect until his fellow miners had given him an alibi. This could prove they had lied and at the same time establish Kendall’s guilt.
‘I didn’t ask, I thought you would want to put any questions to her. If I’d asked questions about it and she knew where it had come from she might have destroyed it, then you would have only had my word that it was the shawl I made for Kerensa Morgan’s baby. The word of a gypsy girl wouldn’t mean very much … especially in a courtroom.’
‘You did exactly the right thing,’ Amos said, gratefully. ‘It’s a pity it’s a bit late in the day to get to Berriow Bridge and back before nightfall, but there’s nothing likely to happen to the evidence between now and tomorrow. We’ll call on the Kendalls first thing in the morning. This is the most important piece of information we’ve had since we began this investigation. Now, thanks to you it could lead us straight to the killer of your father.’
Turning to Tom, Amos said, ‘Although George Kendall was given an alibi by his workmates, you said at the time that miners are notorious for protecting their own, especially when police are involved.’
‘I hope it does lead you to the killer,’ Zillah said fiercely. ‘If it does I’ll feel I’ve done something right by the Romany code that Dado would have approved of. If someone does a wrong to you or your family it’s necessary to avenge it. When Dado’s murderer is hanged he’ll be able to rest in peace. I’ll go back to the farm now, but will you come and tell me when you’ve caught the man, Tom?
Amos had seen Tom’s expression of disappointment when Zillah announced her intention of leaving and although he believed a romance between them could lead nowhere, he said quickly, ‘Of course he will, Zillah, and I hope it will be soon, but don’t leave us just yet, you’ve had a long ride. Come back inside the house and have something to drink at least, or, if you prefer you can stay out here talking to Tom while I fetch the others and have something brought out here for us all. I don’t suppose there will be many more fine days left to us this summer, we might as well make the most of them while we can.’
When Zillah hesitated, Tom pleaded, ‘Please stay, if only for a while.’
Giving Tom a look that made it clear it was his plea that had persuaded her, she said, ‘All right, but I can only stay for a short while. My grandma isn’t very well these days and I don’t like leaving her on her own for too long.’
Leaving them together in the garden and going back inside the house, Amos could not help feeling perturbed by the obvious mutual attraction between Tom and Zillah. Their paths through life were so diverse he was convinced there could be no happy ending to their relationship. Nevertheless, when he entered the room where Talwyn and Verity were seated looking at the gypsy girl’s sketches, he said, ‘I’ve said we will all have something to drink together outside at the garden table. Zillah was reluctant to stay at all but Tom persuaded her. I felt she would feel more at ease out there. She and Tom are chatting together at the moment, we’ll give them a few minutes to themselves before going out to join them.’
‘You’re a hopeless romantic, Amos, even though, like you, I don’t believe anything can come of it.’
The scepticism came from Talwyn but Verity contradicted her immediately. ‘Why not? Tom is honest and sensible enough to see the problems they are likely to face … and after looking at her sketches I would say Zillah is no ordinary gypsy girl. She has a very real talent and it is something I would like to discuss with her … but it can wait for a few minutes.’
In the garden there were a few moments of awkward silence between them before Tom asked, ‘How are things up on the moor at Gassick Farm, Zillah?’
‘Not too well at the moment and I can’t see them getting any better. As you know, my grandma isn’t too well and can’t do very much about the farm. She’s spent a lifetime up there on the moor and I think the dampness has got into her bones. Some days her rheumatics are so bad she can hardly stand. She keeps talking of giving up the farm and she’ll need to do it one day soon.’
‘What will happen if she does, where will you go?’ Tom was genuinely concerned.
‘She talks of going to live with a widowed sister who lives down on the south coast, somewhere near Penzance, it’s warmer and drier down there. As for me … who knows? Grandma says that when she sells the farm half the money she gets for it will be mine. It should keep me going until I decide what to do. I might take to the road again.’
Tom’s dismay was evident, ‘You can’t do that, Zillah, a young girl travelling on her own in a wagon wouldn’t be safe.’
‘Well, I don’t have to think about it immediately, although Grandma’s already got someone interested in buying Gassick. He’s a farmer who has a very large place on the edge of the moor and wants to buy somewhere on the moor to give him summer grazing. He has a son who wants to stay working with him but who has married and wants a place of his own. Gassick Farm would be ideal, not only does it have its own enclosed land but also has moorland grazing rights. Grandma would get a good price for it.’
‘That’s fine for your grandma but it leaves you unsettled – and I really don’t think life on the road in a wagon is an answer.’
At that moment Amos and the two women emerged from the house, Amos and Talwyn carrying trays on which were tea and a jug of cordial, while Verity was holding the file containing Zillah’s sketches – and putting these down on the table and seating herself, Verity was the first to speak.
‘You’re looking worried, Tom, is something troubling you?’
‘Yes, Zillah has just said her grandmother is becoming too old for life on a moorland farm and is thinking of selling up and moving off the moor to live with her sister on the coast near Penzance. If that happens Zillah says she might go on the road with her wagon … by herself. I’ve said I don’t think it’s a very good idea.’
‘I agree,’ Amos said, vehemently. ‘A young girl travelling on her own in such circumstances would be a target for any predatory man – or men – and I’m afraid there’s no shortage of them about.’
It seemed Zillah was inclined to argue, but she was forestalled by Verity. ‘Can I say something that might – but I say only might – provide a solution?’ Without waiting for a reply she said, ‘Is there anything you particularly enjoy doing, Zillah, I mean really enjoy? Something that if you were told you could spend the whole of your day doing it would be your idea of heaven?’
‘You have the answer right there before you on the table. I’m never happier than when I’m drawing or painting something, but I don’t get much time for it at Gassick.’
‘I thought … indeed, I hoped you might say something like that. When I look at your sketches I see something produced by an artist who not only has a very rare and real talent, but who truly loves the work she puts into it. I have an artist friend, a woman artist, who first had her work exhibited in the Royal Academy in London when she was only seventeen. She is still only a little more than thirty but has already attracted the attention of Queen Victoria and her work is rapidly being acknowledged in the capitals of the civilized world. She recently paid a visit to artist friends here in West Cornwall and was so impressed by what she saw that she has taken a studio close to them and intends moving in to it in the very near future. I would like to take some of your work back to London to show her, Zillah. If she sees the talent I believe you possess I am confident she would take you on as a pupil. It would not be far from your grandmother and you would still be in Cornwall. Of course, I can make no promises, but is it something you might consider?’
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