The Tallow Image

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The Tallow Image Page 17

by J. T. Brindle


  ‘Should the vet see it?’ Matt was always careful about such things. His motto was ‘better safe than sorry’.

  Laura shook her head. ‘No. Joseph checked it over. He’s explained to Joanna what she must do.’

  Matt cast his glance to the far end of the yard. ‘Where is Joseph?’

  ‘Gone home to get cleaned up. He’ll be back to lock up and check that all’s well.’

  Matt nodded. Joseph was a man to be relied on. He and Edna lived only a short distance from the main cottage, in a pretty little place that belonged to Slater’s Farm. ‘He’ll be pleased to know the yearlings were sold,’ Matt told her. Then, while Laura and Cathy had a brief exchange of words, Matt walked Sergeant up the yard and into his stable. The horse was still in a sweat. He didn’t want it catching a chill.

  Some time later, Matt was coming out of the stable when he saw the familiar grey-headed figure crossing from the direction of the cottage. Joseph was no longer a young man, but he was fit and strong, though his broad shoulders were now slightly stooped and the lines in his rugged face were deep and meandering. Matt often wondered what he would do when the time came for Joseph to retire. Over the years he had served the Slater family well, and it would be a hard task to find a man experienced enough to replace him.

  Matt went to meet him. On the way past the tack-room where Cathy was just finishing off, he peered in to tell her, ‘I’ll just have a quick word with Joseph. Make your way home if you want to. I’ll be along shortly.’ When Cathy made no response, but turned to stare at him, he was taken aback by the glint of hostility in her eyes. ‘Cathy?’ He peered into the shadows where she quickly retreated. Again that awful murmuring deep inside him. ‘Did you hear?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice was low, and different.

  ‘Are you all right, sweetheart?’

  ‘Yes. Why shouldn’t I be?’ There was impatience now, and anger.

  ‘No reason.’ And there was no reason, he told himself, except in his own imagination. ‘I won’t be long, just a few minutes.’ He made a small laugh. ‘We could both do with a bath. But don’t bother getting a meal. I’m taking you out.’ He had been looking forward to this evening with Cathy. He hoped she might be thrilled that he had planned a surprise dinner. She made no comment. ‘Like I say, I won’t be long,’ he said, lingering a moment. When she turned away from him, he went on his way, not understanding, hurt and disillusioned. But it had been a long day, and no doubt they would both feel better after a hot bath and a meal.

  From the depths of the narrow dark room, Cathy waited, listening to the sound of his boots against the concrete, waiting for it to die down. That man was her enemy. He was dangerous. Cathy knew that, because the voices told her so. They had been with her again today. She could hear them now. ‘Kill him, Cathy… kill… him.’ Over and over they whispered, like hypnotic music inside her, flooding every corner of her being. ‘Kill him… kill him… KILL HIM!’ The voices were so beautiful. They were her friends. He was her enemy. Yet something held her back. She knew he must die, but somehow the thought gave her no pleasure. Matt was a good man. She loved him. No! No! Not love. Hate. The loathing rose in her until she could taste its bitterness. Yet the conflict was still there. Something bad was happening. ‘Go away!’ Her shout echoed from the walls, then another voice, familiar, terrifying. ‘Kill him!’ The voice was a silent one, inside her, compelling.

  Desperate, she fought against it. ‘No! Leave me be!’ And then she saw it, the figure, opening the stable door, coming towards her. Shadowy, silhouetted against the brightness, the grey shawl draped round its body, wisps of hair oddly floating as it moved, thin bony arms stretched out, the mouth opening and closing, calling her name. ‘Kill him.’ The voice soared through her, drowning every instinct.

  ‘No!’ Spinning round, she grabbed the axe from the wall, blindly hitting out, the need to kill strong in her. She felt the blade find its mark. She heard the soft sickening thud, saw the red bubbles spurt into the air like a gushing fountain, splattering her face, warm and sticky. Again and again with all her strength the blade swung up and down. The sky was red, the screams were deafening. The figure was gone but she kept on lashing out, eyes closed now, the screams one long unearthly sound.

  Spent and terrified, she crumpled into the corner, blinded by the light, crazed by what she had done. She opened her eyes and peeped out. Blood was everywhere – on the walls, the ceiling, running down her arms. Chaos welled up in her; the tears sped down her face. Then the voice calling. ‘Cathy.’ Soft, laden with love. It was his face. Thank God, oh thank God. She was sobbing now, her arms outstretched.

  ‘Help me… please… help me.’ Tears blinded her.

  Matt leaned down. ‘It’s all right… all right.’ Strong tender arms plucked her from the darkness, held her close. She was safe now. Safe. Whatever she had imagined, it was inconceivable to him. To Cathy though, it was as real as if it had actually happened.

  ‘It wasn’t my fault, Joseph. Honest to God, it wasn’t my fault!’ Joanna was not yet sixteen, a quiet serious girl with short fair wispy hair and a painfully thin immature figure. She moved in a slow lazy manner, and had a habit of slinging her horse’s rug over her shoulders. Now, she stared at Joseph. Her eyes were wide with shock. ‘I just heard her yelling, “Go away”, at the top of her voice. I was coming down to put my things in the tack-room and… oh…’ The girl was sobbing now, deeply shaken by what had happened. ‘She went crazy when she saw me. She just went crazy!’ She put her head down and fell silent, her narrow shoulders trembling.

  ‘I know, lass. It were a terrible thing to see and no mistake.’ He patted her on the shoulder. ‘None of it were your fault.’ In his mind he could still see Cathy cowering in the far corner, a broken, terrified soul. ‘You get yourself off home. She’ll be fine. The doctor’s on his way. She’ll be fine, I promise you.’ He walked with her to the door, in time to see Matt and Cathy going on slow tortuous steps towards the cottage… Cathy a tragic little figure, clinging to her man, and he wrapped protectively about her, his head bent to hers, whispering words of love, assuring her, giving her his strength.

  Joseph’s gaze moved round the tack-room, scrutinising everything, from the desk and the much-used telephone to the meticulous line of polished saddles and bridles, the row of tools hanging neatly on the wall… the spades, pitchforks and the two axes. Everything was in order. Exactly as Laura and the grooms had left it earlier. Satisfied, but deeply concerned for Cathy, he locked the door and followed the path home to his own humble cottage. The whole incident had unnerved him. Life was a strange thing. Like a will-o’-the-wisp it came and went, ever surprising, sometimes cruel, sometimes kind, but always unpredictable.

  9

  ‘It’s such a lovely day, I thought you might like to go for a short walk.’ Emily breezed into the drawing room. She was carrying the old lady’s shawl. ‘Just as far as the paper shop.’

  ‘I’ve already told you, I don’t want to go out.’ Maria was sitting by the casement windows in the drawing room. From here she could see the apple tree. In her mind’s eye she could see what lay beneath. ‘I don’t feel well,’ she lied.

  Emily was used to her tantrums. ‘Feeling ill’ was a regular ploy. ‘Please, Maria,’ she urged, ‘it’s a beautiful day. The sun and fresh air will do you a world of good. Besides, didn’t you say you wanted a local newspaper?’

  ‘Yes. But I didn’t expect to have to fetch it myself.’

  ‘But you will, won’t you?’

  ‘I shall have to, or I won’t hear the last of it,’ Maria answered sulkily. ‘But I’m not going in that blessed chair!’ She set her mouth in a tight line and continued to stare at the apple tree.

  ‘Maria?’ Emily had come to stand beside her.

  ‘What?’ She didn’t look up.

  ‘Why don’t you ever go out into the garden?’

  ‘You’ve asked me that before!’

  ‘And you’ve always given me the same answer.’

  �
��And I’m giving you the same answer now. I don’t feel easy out there.’

  ‘I’ve been giving that some thought.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. I think it’s because there are no comfortable seats for you to sit on.’ She pointed to the rustic bench. ‘Even I can’t get comfortable on that.’

  ‘Maybe. But I’ve no intention of paying out good money for seats and suchlike, when I can sit here and see the garden just as well.’ She could have explained how she was terrified to set foot in that garden. But she let Emily satisfy herself that she had found the reason. ‘Come on, then!’

  Deep in thought at the old lady’s words, Emily was visibly startled out of her reverie. ‘Oh, I’m sorry – what did you say?’

  Maria sighed. ‘For goodness’ sake! Didn’t you just keep on at me to go for a walk? Well I’m ready, so make your mind up, either we’re going or we’re not!’ When she saw the light fade in Emily’s brown eyes, she touched her on the hand. ‘I’m sorry, my dear,’ she said affectionately, ‘just an old woman’s bad temper.’

  As they went out of the door, Emily strong as ever while Maria leaned all of her weight on her, she reminded Emily, ‘I can’t promise to walk as far as the paper shop.’

  Emily knew how strong the old lady was, and she was not going to play her little game. ‘All right,’ she said, smiling to herself, ‘if you don’t make it, I’ll leave you on one of the benches along the embankment, and pick you up on my way back.’

  ‘Huh! You make it sound like I’m a dog or something!’

  As it was, Maria not only made it to the shop, but she happily engaged the shopkeeper in a heated argument about the ‘exorbitant’ price of his chocolate peanuts. And the harder he tried to explain that he wasn’t responsible for setting the prices, the more she took him to task. Until, in the end, he gave her a packet with his blessing.

  ‘That was very naughty, Maria,’ Emily reprimanded as the two of them sat on the bench beneath the willow tree.

  ‘Do you want one or not?’ She held the sweets out, and Emily was obliged to take one. ‘And don’t look at me as though I’m a thief!’ she protested with a wicked little smile. ‘Anyway, I expect you’ll pay him next time you go into his shop.’

  ‘I certainly shall.’ Emily wasn’t really shocked. She knew Maria only too well. So she ate the sweet and enjoyed it. And the two of them sat in the sunshine and dreamed of things long gone.

  When, some time later, a man and his dog strolled by, Maria was horrified when the dog was let off its lead and promptly squatted to foul the grass. ‘You should be ashamed!’ she yelled at the man, waving her stick threateningly. ‘You deserve to have your nose rubbed in it.’ At that point, Emily decided it was time to take her home.

  Pausing at the kerb edge when a van came in sight, she suggested, ‘We’d best let the van go by, Maria.’ She didn’t want to get half-way across the road and then have to hurry the old lady.

  Bill Barrington was on his way to a solicitor in Castle Street. But he was not in such a hurry that he couldn’t wait for the two ladies to cross the road. Slowing the van down, he made sure there was no traffic coming the other way before indicating for them to cross.

  As they passed by, he smiled. Blushing fiercely, the younger woman with the limp returned his smile. It kept him warm all the way home, and he began to regret not having got out of the van to assist her with the old lady. Finally pushing the incident aside, he firmly chided, ‘You’ve been on your own for so long, you’ve forgotten how to be a gentleman.’

  Matt stood looking out of the window, his hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets, his shoulders slumped forward and all the anxiety of the past week written on his face. His thoughts were still tortured. How could it be that in one moment a man was blessed with everything that made life worth while, holding the world in the palm of his hand, then so swiftly had it all cruelly snatched away? Turning his head, he glanced at the mantelpiece clock for the umpteenth time. It was still not ten a.m. Already the day seemed neverending. He sighed, a long deep sigh that swelled his chest and lifted his shoulders. What in God’s name was happening? Why was it happening? He cast his turbulent thoughts back, searching for an answer. He could see none.

  Outside, the sun was brilliant in a cloudless sky. The sun’s warmth shone in through the window and played on his face. The lawn was lush and green, smooth as velvet, and the flowering shrubs made a glorious display of vivid colours. Chattering starlings strutted about the garden, proud and beautiful, the cooling breeze ruffling their dark iridescent feathers. In such a magnificent world, how could everything be so wrong? In spite of what the doctor had said, and in spite of Cathy’s own repeated assurances, deep down inside him Matt knew something awful was happening. Something frightening. Something… evil. Some wicked inexplicable thing that threatened to destroy him and Cathy. He felt it as surely as he could feel himself breathing. Worse, he felt helpless, shamefully utterly helpless. At first he had convinced himself that it was all in his imagination: that strange look in Cathy’s eyes when she thought she was not being observed, the restlessness in her… the unpredictable swings of mood and the way she spoke to him sometimes, almost as though he was a stranger.

  Then there was the night when he and Cathy had made love; when in the space of a single heartbeat he had seemed to hold another woman in his arms, a dark, hostile creature whose black eyes were alive with malice. And yet it could not have been. It could not have been! But now this? Every minute of every day during this past week, he carried the imprint of that awful scene in his mind. Even before Joanna had come running up the yard towards them, terrified and in tears, he and Joseph had heard Cathy’s unearthly screams.

  When he saw her there, cowering in the corner, her arms flailing the air as though fending off some attacking demon, his heart had almost stopped. But thank God his arrival had calmed her, and she had gone quietly, thankfully, into his open arms. Even now, the sight and sound of his lovely Cathy so distraught was too vivid in his heart.

  Unchecked, the tears flowed down his face. God alone knew how he would turn the world upside down to help her, if only he knew how. How could he help her? He was lost. Now, it was his turn to ask – raising his face to the sky he murmured softly, forlornly, ‘Don’t turn your back on us, Lord. Don’t desert us.’ He closed his eyes, imagining some great and powerful being in his heaven, who only had to lift one finger and all would be well again. He knew instinctively that was not the way. But he prayed all the same. He did believe. It gave him hope in his deepest despair.

  Hearing her move about upstairs, Matt went to her. ‘I can stay with you if you want me to? We could go on a picnic, what do you think?’

  ‘I’d rather stay here.’

  Since the incident at the stables, Cathy seemed strangely subdued. This morning she looked pale and ill. ‘Won’t you talk to me about it?’ Matt asked anxiously. But, like so many times of late, she turned away, and he was at a loss as to what to do next.

  ‘There’s nothing to talk about.’ She smiled, but her smile was a sad expression that tore him in two.

  Going to her then, he folded her in his arms. ‘What’s happening to us, sweetheart?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She knew what he meant, and she realised that something was horribly wrong with her. But, as yet, she didn’t understand what was going on in her own head. One minute she was afraid, desperately needing him, and the next she couldn’t bear him to even touch her. Now, when she looked up to see the anguish in his eyes, her heart was like a lead weight inside her.

  ‘I want you to see a doctor.’

  Startled, she pulled away. ‘No.’ At the back of her mind was the fear that he might think she was going mad, and have her put away.

  ‘All right.’ Matt sensed her fear. He took a step towards her, but the warmth between them had been broken. He cursed himself for that. ‘If you won’t spend the day with me, I’m going to the stables. Do you want to come along? Laura’s longing to see you
.’ She shook her head. ‘All right then. But I won’t be long.’

  ‘Is Edna here?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  Cathy wanted so much to talk to him, to explain how afraid she was, and how she really believed she was losing her mind. But he wouldn’t understand. And how could she blame him?

  He would have kissed her then, but something in her manner warned him not to. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  Going to the window, she watched him stride down the lane towards the stables. ‘Love you,’ she whispered. And no sooner were the words out of her mouth than she was filled with a terrible hatred that shook her to the core, and not for the first time she feared for Matt’s safety.

  When she saw Edna coming towards the house, Cathy ran downstairs to meet her. The kindly soul was shocked by Cathy’s request. But she was wise enough not to show it. ‘If that’s what you want, of course I’ll help you,’ she said.

  It didn’t take long to move Cathy’s few things out of the main bedroom and into the one at the far end of the corridor. ‘I’m having a few sleepless nights,’ she told Edna. ‘It’s fairer on Matt if I move out for a while.’ She didn’t explain how she woke in the night with murder in her heart. She didn’t explain, because she couldn’t. In her whole life she had never felt so alone.

  When Matt realised what had been done, his first reaction was one of anger. Then he wondered if this was the beginning of the end of his marriage. Finally, before he faced Cathy, he rationalised the situation, and decided not to make a fuss. ‘I don’t want you to do this,’ he told her. ‘If you have another nightmare, I want to be close on hand.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she assured him. ‘A few days, that’s all I need. A few days on my own.’

  A week later, Cathy and Matt still slept apart. Every night, Matt waited for her to come to him. And every night he grew lonelier and more afraid for her. Even in the daytime there was a distance between them, a painful chasm which it seemed he could not cross; nor did she want him to. He had no answers, only the fervent belief that it must come right. It had to! For he loved Cathy more than life itself.

 

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