‘Yes, I could see that.’
‘Anyone could see it with Kathy. Oh, that sounds rude! I don’t mean to be rude. What I mean is—’
Miss Silver smiled.
‘You need not trouble to explain, Mr Mottingley. I know exactly what you mean. Miss Kathy, as you said, is good. I would trust her judgement, and she is very sure of your innocence.’
Jimmy brushed a hand across his eyes. Then he looked straight at Miss Silver.
‘If Kathy believes in me it’s something to go on. You can see that, can’t you? I didn’t think anyone would, but you say Kathy does.’
‘Yes, Miss Kathy does. You can rely on that.’
When her interview was over Miss Silver crossed the road to the bun-shop.
Kathy had just eaten an egg and some bread and butter and was looking much better. She looked up at Miss Silver with pleading eyes, but she waited while Mrs Brown took the order and bustled away. Then she said,
‘Miss Silver, how is he?’
Miss Silver smiled very kindly.
‘I think that he is better, and I think that your message and the fact that you had come over to see him did him a great deal of good. I think he has been feeling very much forsaken. His parents, though truly devoted, have built up a wall of separation between themselves and him. He was their fourth child, and they lost the other three. I think that they imposed an iron discipline upon him, not so much for his sake as for their own, and instead of strengthening his character they weakened it.’
Kathy’s eyes were very soft.
‘Oh, you do understand. It has been just like that, only I didn’t know that they cared.’
‘They care very deeply,’ said Miss Silver.
‘I didn’t know,’ said Kathy. ‘And he didn’t know either. If – if they really do care, do you think you could tell him so? I think it would make a great difference to him. And – and if you get the opportunity, do you think that you could get them to see that he doesn’t need scolding. Anyone can think of things to say to themselves which are far worse than what anyone else can say to them. Only – only they won’t do it while they are defending themselves. I do know that because of my sister. She’s only eighteen, and if she has done anything stupid – like girls do, you know – and you leave it to her, she will say what she’s done and how stupid it was. But if I were to say it, she would make a quarrel of it and say it was just what anyone would do. Oh, I’m putting it very badly, but I’m sure you know what I mean.’
‘Yes, my dear, I do.’
The tea came, and Miss Silver enjoyed it.
‘It is so seldom that one gets tea really properly made as this is. Most people do not observe the golden rule of making sure that the kettle has boiled, and freshly boiled.’
A highly gratified Mrs Brown responded.
‘Ah, there you have it! That’s what I always say. I remember when I first went into service at the Manor House the cook there she didn’t believe in having the water freshly boiled, and it was pain and grief to me with the training I’d had from my dear mother, to see the haphazard ways of her. Well, another ten years and I was cook meself, and I give you me word they thought the tea had been changed, it made all that of a difference.’
When she had gone away, Kathy turned to Miss Silver.
‘Will you tell me what I must do to see Jimmy?’
Miss Silver was silent for a moment. Then she said,
‘My dear, I know you only want to do what is best for him.’
Kathy looked at her with wide startled eyes.
‘Oh, yes I do – I do.’
‘Then I think I must say to you that I think it would be very unwise—’
‘For me to see him? Oh, Miss Silver, why?’
‘Can you not see why? I think you must do so if you think of the circumstances. Mr Jimmy went down to Hazeldon to see this unfortunate girl. If it comes to a trial, the prosecution will suggest that they quarrelled, and that in the course of this quarrel he killed her. I think that you ought to abstain very carefully from doing or saying anything which may tend to supply a reason for such a quarrel. His interest in another woman would be such a reason. I think it would be absolutely fatal both for your own sake and that of Jimmy Mottingley himself that there should be any hint of his possible interest in another woman. You have spoken of brothers and a sister. Have you no father, my dear?’
Kathy started.
‘Oh, yes. My mother died when I was seventeen, and I came home to look after the younger children and to run the house. My father is a solicitor. He is a very busy man, and he is not very strong. I didn’t want to trouble him.’
Miss Silver smiled warmly.
‘I am sure you will find that he is in agreement with me as to the necessity of your remaining quite detached from this business. I think it would be very dangerous for Jimmy Mottingley if you were to involve yourself in this case in any way.’
THIRTY-ONE
JENNY WAS OUT in the village. She had undertaken to do the shopping, and she was very anxious to show that she could do it without making any mistakes. There were not a great many shops to go to. There was Mrs Dean who kept a general shop, and Mrs Maples who had bread and cakes, biscuits, and groceries. In the general shop you could buy vegetables in season, and boots and shoes of the stoutly wearing kind, together with an assortment of tins ranging from peaches to boot-polish.
‘No – no apricots today, miss,’ said Mrs Dean. ‘Mrs Pratt had the last, and what she wants with it dear knows, but I’ll lay she don’t! I’ve knowed her since she was a girl, and she was always the same – no head for anything. But there, it don’t do to talk about people, does it? It gets round to them something shocking in a village. Funny, isn’t it – I can remember ten or twelve years ago she was the prettiest girl in the village and all the men after her, and she married Albert Pratt, and he got killed a year later. Funny sort of affair it was. There was she laid up with her baby, and there was Albert coming home along the road to her when a car come by and run over him, and he never moved nor spoke after. Well, Mrs Pratt, poor thing, she was neither to hold nor to bind – carried on dreadful she did, and everyone thought as how she’d marry again, but she didn’t, more’s the pity. Her Dicky, he’s a bright boy but heedless. Wants a man’s hand over him, that’s what I say. Now if you’d like a nice tin of peaches instead of the apricots—’
‘Yes, the peaches will do very well,’ said Jenny.
She had been wondering when she would be able to get a word in, but it was a fine morning and she wasn’t in a hurry. It was quite nice to saunter down the village street and feel that everyone was friendly and would talk to her, and Caroline was making a cake. She was just going to leave the shop, when a boy with a happy-go-lucky grin on his face looked round the door. Mrs Dean said severely,
‘Now, what are you not in school for, Dicky?’
Dicky smiled still more broadly. Jenny had the feeling that really it wasn’t possible for any boy to be as innocent as he looked.
‘I had a headache and a stomach ache when I woke up this mornin, and my mum said I needn’t go.’
‘You mind what you’re up to,’ said Mrs Dean, ‘or you’ll be getting into trouble you will.’
‘I was mortal sick when I woke up, Mrs Dean. ’Orrible sick I was.’
‘Too sick to eat a peppermint drop now, I’ll lay.’
‘Oh, no. It’s quite gone off, Mrs Dean – it has reeley.’
‘You’re a bad boy, Dicky, and that’s the truth of it, and you won’t get no peppermint drops from me.’
‘No, Mrs Dean, I won’t – I know that. I’ve just come in to see if I could carry the young lady’s stuff.’
Jenny was waiting to get out of the shop. She gathered that she was the young lady concerned, and she smiled and shook her head.
‘No, thank you,’ she said. ‘I can manage what I’ve got quite nicely.’
But when she got out of the shop, there was Dicky beside her.
‘You staying with Mi
ss Danesworth?’ he said brightly.
‘Yes, I am.’
Jenny couldn’t help smiling. He was the untidiest boy she had ever seen. His bright yellow curls were a welter. They did not look as if they had been brushed for months. His clothes were a disgrace. The pockets of his trousers were stuffed full, his shirt was torn. All his clothes were stained and dishevelled. But those very blue eyes of his twinkled, and she wanted to laugh when she looked at him. Dicky had that kind of effect on a good many people. If he had not had the mistaken idea of producing stomach ache as one of his indispositions, she felt tolerably certain that Mrs Dean would have had a peppermint drop for him. She thought he was a boy who would get what he wanted.
He walked along beside her scuffing up the dust with his toes. He hadn’t made up his mind yet. It didn’t do to be in a hurry, and he would want to make out what he was going to say very carefully. It wouldn’t do to make a mistake. As he went, he thought and kept on smiling. That was a very good dodge with the soap. His mother hadn’t noticed anything at all, and she hadn’t missed the tiddy little bits. He smiled benignly as he thought of how he had got up and chewed on those little bits. They had a funny kind of taste. He wouldn’t like to take too much of them, but they made a rare old fuzzygug in your mouth. It had frightened Mum all right – frightened her almost too much, for she wanted to send for the doctor, and he wasn’t having any of that. Well, here they were now. The trick with the soap had come off all right, and here was Miss Jenny.
What he hadn’t been able to make out at the time was the address on the note he had been given – ‘Miss Jenny Hill’. Well, this wasn’t any Miss Jenny Hill. This was Miss Jenny Forbes. Then why did the gentleman in the car tell him to give the note to Miss Jenny Hill? There wasn’t any Miss Jenny Hill that he could see – not in Hazeldon.
That’s what he had thought at the time, but then afterwards – after that chatterin old body that worked for Mrs Merridew had had her say – he did see different about it. Only he didn’t quite know what he’d got to think. Least said soonest mended. Jenny Hill – he said the name out loud, ‘Miss Hill – Miss Jenny Hill.’
Jenny looked up startled.
‘What did you say?’
He looked at her with that carefree innocent smile of his.
‘Ow, nothin – nothin. It was just a name as took my fancy. Did you ever hear it afore?’
Jenny said, ‘Yes, I did. It was my name.’
‘Ow? Why did you change it?’
Jenny bit her lip. Was that smiling look of his really innocent? She wasn’t sure. She laughed and said,
‘You want to know too much.’
‘It’s interestin – that’s why I want to know.’ The blue eyes gazed limpidly into hers. She found herself explaining, which she hadn’t meant to do.
‘Well, sometimes you grow up with a name and you think it’s really yours, and then you find out that it isn’t.’
‘It isn’t what?’ said Dicky, deeply interested.
‘It isn’t yours at all,’ said Jenny. ‘You’ve got another name, and everyone doesn’t know it – not at first.’
When she came to think about it afterwards, she simply couldn’t imagine what had made her say it. She didn’t know that she was not the only one to say things which she regretted afterwards under Dicky’s innocent gaze. Nor would she be the last.
‘That’s very interestin,’ said Dicky. He removed the gaze and fell to thinking about the note. After a moment he said, ‘Then if there was a note with Miss Jenny Hill on it, would that be for you, or wouldn’t it be?’
Jenny was startled. She said quickly,
‘It would be for me. Why do you want to know?’
The blue gaze turned interestedly in her direction again.
‘Ow, I was just wonderin.’
Jenny stood still. She couldn’t think who in the world would be sending her a note addressed Miss Jenny Hill. She wasn’t Jenny Hill here. She never had been Jenny Hill. How on earth had this boy got hold of the name, and who could possibly have written her a note addressed to Jenny Hill? The thought of Mac passed through her mind with a shudder. She had never been afraid of him whilst she had lived next door or when she had moved into Alington House. She had never been afraid then, but she was afraid now. It was nonsense. She was making a fool of herself. She said,
‘Why were you wondering?’
The blue eyes never moved from her face. He scuffed with his feet in the dust.
‘Ow, I just was.’
She said, ‘Dicky, I want an answer, and a true one. How did you know that I had been called Jenny Hill?’
‘Everyone knows. It isn’t only me – honest it isn’t. That there Mrs Warrington as works for Mrs Merridew, she’s the one that got hold of it. Proper nosey parker she is, and what she knows everyone knows. Come to think of it, there’s somethin excitin about havin two names. I mean, everyone knows as you have one before you’re married an one after, but I never heard of no one else as was single an had two names. That’s why I was interested.’
It was quite possible. Only Jenny’s association with Meg and Joyce cropped up to tell her that a child who looks you straight in the face with eyes of angelic innocence and makes a statement may have more than one reason for doing so. Meg had rather a talent for doing that sort of thing, and Jenny was strongly reminded of Meg as she met Dicky’s blue and innocent gaze. She thought of what he had said, ‘Then if there was a note with Miss Jenny Hill on it, would that be for you, or wouldn’t it be?’ She said,
‘If you know anything about a note for me you had better tell me what it is.’
The innocent blue gaze stayed on her face.
‘I never said nothin about a note for you. I couldn’t, seein as how there wasn’t one, could I?’
Jenny would have laughed, only somehow she didn’t feel like laughing. There was a feeling of pressure, of the importance of what was said. She spoke abruptly,
‘You couldn’t have said it if there really wasn’t one – I know that. But you said – you did say, “Then if there was a note with Miss Jenny Hill on it, would that be for you, or wouldn’t it be?”’
‘I said that?’
‘Yes, you said that. I want to know what you meant by it.’
‘I didn’t mean anythin. You’re not angry, miss, are you? I didn’t mean no harm.’
‘I don’t say you did. I just want to know why you said it.’
Dicky thought that this had gone on long enough. He had two accomplishments. The wide blue gaze was one of them. He thought the time had come for the other. He let his lids fall and squeezed them down upon his eyes, at the same time he clenched his hands. A gush of tears followed. It was a very useful trick. If the wide-eyed gaze did not prevail, the gush of tears could be relied upon. But Jenny was once again reminded of Meg.
‘I didn’t mean no harm,’ said Dicky with a most effective catch in his breath.
‘I want to know why you said it.’
Dicky stood rubbing his eyes.
‘I didn’t mean no harm. I dunno why I said it. I dunno anythin.’
And as Jenny advanced an ominous step in his direction he turned and ran from her through Mrs Bishop’s garden and out on to the common at the back. He thought he would keep dear of Miss Jenny Hill for the time being.
Jenny went on her way frowning.
THIRTY-TWO
RICHARD HAD BEEN in town. He came back, and when Caroline Danesworth had gone to get the supper he got up and, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the fire which was so pleasant in the evenings, he said,
‘Jenny—’
Something in his voice quickened her heart-beat. She turned round, brown startled eyes on him, and said,
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing. Don’t look like that. I thought we ought to find out for certain, so I went to Somerset House today—’
‘Somerset House?’
‘That is where they keep the marriage certificates and all those sort of things. That is wh
ere Mac had got his information. What was open to him was open to me. It is quite true – your father and mother were married in January 1940. January the second to be exact. When were you born?’
She said, ‘August 31st 1940. My father was killed at the end of May – I don’t know which day. And my mother was hit in an air raid about the same time. I told you.’
‘Yes, you told me. She was struck on the head, wasn’t she?’
‘Yes, she was. And she never spoke. The blow did something to her. I don’t know if she ever knew about my father being killed. I don’t think she did from what Garsty said – I hope she didn’t. And as soon as I was born she died. It’s a sad story, isn’t it?’
Richard said, ‘I don’t know – it seems sad to us because we only see one side of it. It wasn’t so sad for them, you know. They weren’t separated very long – not nearly as long as they might have been as the war went on. Don’t grieve over them, Jenny.’
‘I’m not really. It just makes me cry a little bit, that’s all.’
‘I can’t bear to see you cry. If you go on, I shall come across and kiss you, and Caroline will take that moment to come in for something, and – well, don’t try me too high.’
Jenny looked up. Her eyes were swimming with tears. She blinked them away and they ran down and fell into her lap. She put up a hand to brush the traces away and smiled through her tears.
‘Did you get the certificate?’
‘I got a copy for you. Do you want to see it?’
‘Please.’
He took out a pocket-book, opened it, and extracted the certificate. When he came over to her with it he sat down on the sofa beside her.
‘You’re too young, you know, my dear,’ he said in a moved voice. ‘I didn’t think of it like that until I looked at the date on this. Do you know that I was eight years old when you were born?’
Jenny said, ‘Why shouldn’t you be?’ Then she took up the certificate and looked at it long and earnestly. She said in a moved voice, ‘They had so little time together.’
Richard put his arm round her.
The Alington Inheritance (The Miss Silver Mysteries Book 31) Page 17