The Tulip Girl

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘Well, it looks like accidental death to me,’ Dr Hanson said. ‘It looks as if he’s reached up to the panel and then fallen backwards and hit his head on this.’ He pointed to the sharp corner of the concrete plinth on which stood the engine and the generator. ‘Of course, he might even have had a heart attack. There’ll have to be a post-mortem and an inquest, Maddie, but it should be quite straightforward.’ He looked up at the police constable standing solemnly in the doorway, notebook in hand. ‘You agree?’

  ‘Well, yes, but I was just looking at his hand, doctor. Looks odd to me. Do you think there could be a fault on that there thing?’ Constable Parsons nodded towards the brown knob on the control panel.

  ‘Well, get it checked, if you’re not happy.’

  The constable made a note in his book. ‘Sad though, ain’t it? I always thought what a clever chap Frank was to generate his own electricity.’ Sorrowfully, he looked down at the twisted form lying on the ground. ‘Shame if it turns out that’s what’s killed him.’

  Maddie turned away and saw Harriet standing in the doorway. Woodenly, the housekeeper moved towards them, staring straight ahead, past Maddie, past the policeman. She stepped into the battery house and knelt down beside Frank. She leaned over him and stroked his forehead, a low, keening sound coming from her throat.

  From her apron pocket, she took a pair of scissors and, reverently, she cut a lock of his hair and held it in the palm of her hand. Then she straightened up and walked out of the barn without speaking to, or even glancing at, anyone.

  PC Parsons closed the door and checked that it was locked. ‘I’ll get Frank moved for you, love. We don’t want to think of him lying there all night, but after that, you mustn’t come back in here and you mustn’t let anyone else come in here either until I’ve had an expert check that there control panel. I just want to be sure what’s happened here.’

  ‘Of course,’ Maddie nodded. ‘Nick’s away and neither me nor Mrs Trowbridge want to go back in there.’ A sob caught at her throat and she stumbled away.

  The following afternoon, as darkness closed in around the farm, Maddie stood at the gate, huddled in her warmest coat, yet still shivering, though more from the shock and the dreadful night and day she had just lived through than from the cold.

  She heard him whistling first even before she saw the dim, wavering light of his bicycle lamp coming towards her. She wanted to run towards him, but her legs would not move and she was still standing there, like a statue, when he spotted her almost at the last minute. He wrenched on his brakes and the wheels slithered on the loose gravel as Nick brought the bike to a standstill.

  Before she could speak, he said, ‘Michael won’t come. I told him how – how serious it is, but . . .’ His glance at Maddie was apologetic. ‘I did try, Maddie. Honestly, I did.’

  ‘It’s too late,’ she said bluntly. ‘Frank’s dead.’

  She was sorry she had broken the news so abruptly when she saw, even through the dark, Nick’s face turn white and his lips part in a horrified gasp. He gulped before he stuttered, ‘B – but he seemed so much better. He . . .’

  ‘It wasn’t the sickness. He’s been killed. There was an accident. In the battery house. We don’t quite know what happened . . .’ Her voice trailed away and unshed tears filled her throat.

  ‘Me Mam?’ Nick asked hoarsely. ‘How is she? Is she all right?’

  ‘She’s taking it very badly. She’s sat at the kitchen table all day just staring into space.’

  ‘Why aren’t you with her, then? What are you doing out here?’

  ‘I – I had to come out. Adam’s in bed asleep and I came out to the greenhouse . . .’

  ‘Oh aye. You’d still have to carry on working, wouldn’t you, Maddie? Nothing’s as important as your blasted tulips, is it? They still have to be picked, even on the day poor Mr Frank’s died.’

  He pushed hard down on the pedals and rode into the yard, leaving Maddie standing by the gate, staring after him.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said to Nick the following morning. ‘I didn’t mean to sound unfeeling. It’s my way of dealing with it. To work hard. Keep busy. It’s the only way I can cope. I’m going to miss him dreadfully. I owe him a lot.’

  ‘You owe him everything,’ Nick was not about to let her off lightly. ‘Where would you be without him, eh? Out on the streets. You and the kid, both. That’s where.’

  For once, Maddie stifled the sharp retort that sprang to her lips. She did not say the words ‘And by the sound of it, but for him, that’s where you and your mam would have been an’ all.’ Instead, she said gently, ‘You’re right. But we all say things when we’re upset.’ She waited for him to apologize for what he had said, but Nick was silent.

  Maddie sighed. ‘I must get changed and go into town. To the hospital to – to collect his things. That’s where they took him,’ she added, explaining. She waited again, this time for him to say ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ But once more, Nick said nothing, only nodded.

  Maddie squared her shoulders. Very well, she thought. I’ll go on my own. In fact, I won’t even ask them to look after the baby. I’ll take Adam to Jenny and Mrs Grange.

  A little later, as she was manoeuvring the pram out of the back door, Nick came to the kitchen door. ‘You haven’t talked the funeral arrangements over with me Mam. Don’t you think you should?’

  As the pram bounced over the threshold, Maddie looked back at him briefly. ‘Of course I shall, but I can’t do anything yet.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because there’ll be a post-mortem and an inquest.’

  The horrified look on his face startled her. His voice was a strangulated whisper as he asked, ‘A post-mortem? What on earth for?’

  Maddie shrugged. ‘It’s usual in sudden deaths.’

  ‘But – but they know what killed him. You said the doctor said so himself.’ There was a strange desperation in his tone. ‘Why can’t the doctor just sign the death certificate?’

  Maddie shrugged. ‘Maybe he will. I don’t know.’

  ‘They shouldn’t be cutting poor old Frank about now. Why can’t they let him rest in peace?’

  The vivid picture of her husband’s body being mutilated, however sensitively it was done, disturbed her, but to cover it she said brusquely, ‘It’ll hardly hurt him now, will it?’

  He hesitated before saying, ‘No, but it will destroy me Mam.’

  ‘Actually, I think your mother would rather like to know what his mystery illness was. After all, that was what killed him, in a way.’

  ‘I don’t understand what you mean.’

  ‘Like you say, perhaps he was careless because he wasn’t feeling well and, because of that, your mother seems to be blaming herself.’

  ‘How can she?’

  Again Maddie shrugged. ‘Her cooking, I suppose.’

  ‘What? You mean, she thinks her cooking made him sick? That’s stupid.’

  ‘Of course it is. I know that. But again, it’s because she’s so upset. She’s not thinking clearly.’

  Suddenly, she felt sorry for the distressed young man. He must have looked upon Frank as his father. She reached out and patted his arm. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll be all right. I must go. You just look after your mam.’

  After his harsh words earlier, she dared not ask him to do any work in the greenhouses.

  ‘Of course we’ll look after him,’ Mrs Grange bustled round the counter, her hands outstretched already to pluck the child from his pram. ‘I’m so sorry for your trouble, lass. Mr Frank was a good man. A kind man. Look how he took you into his home and looked after you.’

  Maddie felt a lump in her throat and could only nod.

  ‘And you’re not the first, neither. There, there, my little man. My word, you grow every time I see you. He’ll be walking afore you know it, Maddie.’ She raised her voice. ‘Jenny. You there, love? Adam’s here.’

  Maddie smiled faintly to find herself ignored.

  Jenny appeared and hu
gged her. ‘Oh Maddie, isn’t it dreadful? Have – have you sent word to Michael?’

  In her embrace, Maddie stiffened. ‘There’s not much point. Nick’s just been to see him to tell him how desperately ill his father is – was. But he didn’t want to know.’

  ‘Oh, so that’s why Steven saw Nick on his bike the other night, riding through the village?’

  Maddie nodded. ‘Yes, he only got back last night.’

  ‘No, this was the night before last. Late, it was. Gone midnight.’

  Maddie shook her head. ‘No, it couldn’t have been Nick. That was the night he was away, seeing Michael.’

  ‘Steven must have got it wrong then,’ Jenny shrugged and went on, ‘and you say Michael didn’t want to come home to see his father even though he was so ill.’

  Maddie bit her lip to stop it trembling.

  Jenny was appalled. ‘That’s terrible. But even so, I think Michael has a right to know what’s happened now. After all, he’s Mr Frank’s heir, isn’t he?’

  ‘No,’ Maddie shook her head. ‘I am. And after me, Adam. He told me that he’d made a new Will and – and cut Michael out of it entirely.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Jenny breathed. ‘I never realized he was so bitter.’

  ‘I didn’t, until he told me that. It was after Nick had been to see Michael several times and then the last time he went, I mean before this time, he came back with the message that Michael had no intention of ever coming home again. So . . .’ She sighed heavily. ‘He made a new Will.’

  Jenny bit her lip. ‘But I still think you should send word to Michael. Somehow. It’s his father.’

  The two girls stared at each other, both thinking the same thing. If we had only known our father, then we wouldn’t treat him this way whatever family quarrel there had been.

  ‘I must go,’ Maddie said flatly. She raised her voice as she added, ‘Thanks for looking after Adam, Mrs Grange.’

  ‘It’s a pleasure, love. Any time.’ And she knew the woman meant it.

  It was not until she was on the bus to Wellandon that she remembered Mrs Grange’s words. ‘And you’re not the first he’s taken in, neither.’

  ‘The doctor has signed the death certificate. The blow on the head when he fell killed him.’

  ‘So,’ Nick said slowly. ‘It wasn’t anything to do with the electricity then?’

  Maddie shook her head. ‘No, the expert they sent out said he couldn’t find anything wrong on the control panel, or anywhere else for that matter.’ She frowned as she murmured, ‘So we still don’t know what caused the lights to go out in the first place.’

  To this, Nick said nothing. Instead he asked, ‘So, what have they put as the cause of death?’

  Maddie dropped the piece of paper onto the table. ‘Read it for yourself. It’s all in long medical words that I don’t understand.’ Still, she could not erase the dreadful picture from her mind of how she had found Frank. ‘Where’s your mother, Nick? I’d better talk to her.’

  ‘You do what you like. You’re his wife.’

  Well, it wasn’t taking very long for Harriet Trowbridge to get back to her normal, resentful self, Maddie thought wryly. ‘But what would he have wanted? To be buried in the village churchyard?’

  ‘Where else? He’s lived here all his life. His wife’s buried there.’ There was a malicious gleam in her eyes as she said, ‘I’m sure he’d want to be put next to her.’

  Maddie ignored the intended slight. ‘And the service? What sort of service would he want?’

  ‘Well, he wouldn’t have wanted a fuss, if that’s what you mean.’

  In a low voice, Maddie said, ‘But he’d have wanted his son here, wouldn’t he?’

  To this, Harriet made no reply.

  ‘I’m not going traipsing after him again,’ Nick declared. ‘It’s a waste of time. He won’t come. I’ll write to the camp. At least I know where he is at the moment and the letter won’t get passed from one camp to the next like I did when I went looking for him.’

  ‘Is that what happened?’

  ‘Oh, you don’t know the half of it. You haven’t asked, have you?’

  ‘Nick, I’m sorry. I . . .’

  Suddenly, he smiled the smile that lit up his whole face and he put his arm about her shoulders. ‘No, I’m sorry, Maddie.’

  Before she could stop herself, she felt herself stiffen under his touch, but she managed to smile at him and say, ‘It’s all right, Nick. We’re all upset by what’s happened. But we’ve got to stick together and help each other.’

  ‘Oh Maddie,’ he whispered close to her ear. ‘You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that.’

  Forty-Two

  ‘I can’t face it. I can’t go.’

  Harriet sat at the kitchen table in a flood of tears. ‘I can’t face all those prying eyes, all the gossip going on around me.’

  Maddie looked down at the woman with a mixture of sympathy and exasperation. Why on earth couldn’t she pull herself together and attend Frank’s funeral?

  She tried to keep her voice level as she said, ‘If anyone’s going to be gossiped about, I should think it’ll be me, not you.’

  ‘Oho, you don’t know the village folk like I do. They’ve long memories and long knives.’

  ‘We’ll be with you. Nick and me. We won’t leave you.’

  ‘What about the baby? I’ll stay here and look after the baby.’

  ‘Mrs Grange is going to have Adam. She’ll bring him to the church, but if he cries then she’ll take him straight out.’

  ‘See . . .’ Fresh tears flowed. ‘You don’t even trust me to look after him now.’

  Maddie sighed, but managed to hold on to her patience. ‘I never thought for a moment that you wouldn’t want to come to Frank’s funeral. He’d want you there. You know he would.’

  She sniffled miserably. ‘Well, if you put it like that.’

  ‘I do put it like that. Never mind the nosy parkers from the village. What do they matter? Think what Frank would have wanted.’

  It seemed the whole village was there when Frank was laid beside his first wife. Maddie read the headstone. ‘In Loving Memory of Elizabeth, beloved wife of Frank Brackenbury, who died 1st October 1929, aged 23’. She would see that Frank had a similar headstone, Maddie promised silently. For she had loved him, she realized now. Oh, not in the same way as she had loved Michael. Never in the same way. She doubted she would ever love anyone else with that same overwhelming passion. But Frank had been a kind and gentle husband. She wished now that they could have spent many more years together.

  As she turned away from the yawning hole, she saw Theo Mayfield standing amongst the throng of people. As the villagers began to move away, Maddie noticed that he did not move. He stood very still and, knowing he was watching her, she felt drawn to move towards him.

  Nearing him, she held out her hand. ‘It was kind of you to come today. Frank would have been very touched.’

  She felt his warm grasp. ‘Your hands are cold, Maddie. It’s been an ordeal for you. Please allow me to take you home in my car.’

  Swiftly, she shook her head. ‘Oh no, no. It wouldn’t do.’

  He was smiling gently at her. ‘You surprise me. I always thought you didn’t mind flouting convention.’

  She knew his words were not offensive so she smiled in return. ‘No, I don’t. I’ve done a bit of it already, haven’t I?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, and I admire you for it. And I’m about to do a little “flouting” of my own, Maddie. I’m going to grant you the tenancy of Few Farm in your own name. How does that sound?’

  Maddie gave a long sigh of relief and tears sprang to her eyes. ‘Oh Mr Theo, I can’t tell you how grateful I am.’

  She felt the slight pressure on her hand, which he was still holding. ‘It’s not your gratitude I want, Maddie.’ The words were so softly spoken that later she was not sure whether she had heard him correctly, for now he released her hand and gave a little bow. ‘I must have a word with Mrs
Trowbridge and her son. She seems very distressed.’

  Maddie nodded and glanced back to where Harriet was having to be almost bodily supported by Nick. ‘She is. But then, she’s been his housekeeper for a long time and I think . . . Well, best just to say I think she had a high regard for him.’

  Theo murmured, ‘So they say,’ before he added, with genuine sympathy, ‘Poor Mrs Trowbridge.’

  As he left her, Jenny, with Mrs Grange carrying Adam, came to her. Hovering just behind them was Steven. The girl, as always, flung her arms about her. ‘Oh Maddie, Maddie. It’s so awful.’

  ‘I know, I know, love.’ She hugged Jenny quickly and then reached out for her son, who was fretful and holding out his arms towards her.

  ‘Poor little lamb,’ Mrs Grange crooned as she handed him over. ‘It’s as if he knows something’s wrong.’

  ‘I’m sure he does,’ Maddie said, holding him close to her and taking comfort from the warm little body next to her own. ‘Now he’s lost two daddies.’

  The faces before her were solemn and their glances fell away as if they were embarrassed to meet her eyes.

  ‘We must get home. Poor Mrs Trowbridge seems about on the point of collapse. Thank you for coming . . .’ Her glance included Steven. With more murmured words of condolence from them, Maddie moved away.

  It was as she walked down the pathway, through the churchyard towards the gate that to her left in the farthest corner of the churchyard, she saw a tall, fair-haired figure standing with a bunch of flowers in her hands. The woman was looking down at just a patch of ground. There was no headstone, no visible grave, for the ground was overgrown with long grass and nettles.

  Maddie stopped and though Adam wriggled in her arms and now kept up a constant grizzle of discomfort, for a moment she ignored him.

  ‘Amelia Mayfield?’ she murmured and screwed up her eyes to try to make out the figure more clearly. ‘What on earth . . .?’

  And then, without being told, Maddie knew. That must be where Amelia’s lover was buried. In that far corner of the churchyard, most probably in unconsecrated ground, which was the usual resting place for suicides. Then she saw Theo walking towards his sister, saw him gently take the flowers from her hands and lay them on the ground at her feet. Then he put his arm about her shoulders and led her away to his car.