The Tulip Girl

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘Oh Michael,’ she buried her face against his neck. ‘This is awful. Awful.’

  He put his arms tightly around her and held her close, burying his head against her hair. After a few moments, he raised his head. ‘Tell me everything from the beginning, Maddie. Tell me your side from the day I went away. And then, I’ll tell you mine.’

  ‘Jenny and Steven didn’t tell you anything then?’

  Michael shook his head. ‘No, apart from introducing me to Adam when I arrived this morning, they hustled me straight out here.’

  ‘So they haven’t even told you about – about the trouble I’m in?’

  Again Michael shook his head.

  ‘So why did you come back now?’

  ‘Steven met me in Peterborough last Saturday. He told me you needed me, that you wanted to see me, but he wouldn’t say why. But I didn’t need to be told any more, Maddie. I’ve waited years to hear that you wanted to see me again. I couldn’t get here fast enough, but I couldn’t come back with him then. I had to go back to camp and explain to my Commanding Officer that I needed compassionate leave – urgently.’

  ‘How did Steven find you? We’ve had no word from you for years.’

  There was a strange look on his face as he said, ‘I’m beginning to understand that, but all Steven did say was that he’d been to Mr Theo for advice and he was able to find out where I was stationed. I stayed in the Army after my National Service. I didn’t know what else to do, since – since it seemed I was no longer welcome at home.’

  Maddie groaned and closed her eyes at the eleven wasted years, but whispered, ‘Oh thank God for Theo.’

  Michael blinked and then asked, ‘Theo, is it now?’

  ‘He’s been very kind to me. He – he’s my solicitor. But for him, I’d still be in the cells at the police station.’

  ‘The what!’

  Sitting so close, she felt his muscles tighten.

  Maddie sighed. ‘Oh Michael. There’s so much you don’t know . . .’ she looked at him sadly, ‘and so much I don’t know either.’ Her face was filled with sorrow as she said, ‘And when you’ve heard the whole story, you might want to get on the first train out of here again.’

  ‘Never, my darling,’ he reassured her huskily. ‘Whatever it is, we’re going to face it together.’

  So she told him all that had happened since the day he had walked out of her life. She told him of her love for him, her hurt at his desertion and how she had buried all feelings for him so deep that she would hardly ever allow his name to pass her lips.

  ‘So Adam knows nothing about me? And yet he seemed to take the news quite calmly just now.’ There was a note of pleasure in Michael’s tone as he added, ‘He even seemed pleased.’

  Now came the most difficult part of all. ‘Well, I’ve never actually told him that Frank was his father. He was only little when he died, but he’s been led to believe . . . Oh Michael, this is awfully hard . . .’

  ‘Go on, Maddie.’

  ‘It – it was your father I married.’

  ‘Dad? You’re joking?’

  ‘No. He – he was very kind to me. He persuaded me that it was the best thing for the baby. And when Nick, after one of his supposed visits to you, said you never wanted to come home again and that you were signing on . . .’

  Michael was silent trying to take in the enormity of the news he was hearing.

  Maddie swallowed painfully but went on with her story, bringing him right up to date with the frightening events that were taking place now.

  ‘You mean, they’re digging poor Dad up?’

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  ‘My God! This is a nightmare.’

  ‘I know. That’s just how I feel. But it isn’t, Michael. It’s happening and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it.’

  His face was grim. ‘There must be. There must be something we can do . . .’ His voice died away helplessly.

  There was a silence between them before Michael took a deep breath and began to speak.

  ‘Nick’s deceived us both. He’s played the go-between and yet lied to both sides. As I said, he only ever came to see me once, but I’ve written countless letters, sent cards at Christmas and on everyone’s birthday. I even sent gifts at Christmas to the child I knew I must have, even though I didn’t know whether it was a boy or a girl.’

  ‘We never got any of them. We only ever knew about two letters. No wonder Nick always met the postman or went to the post office to collect the mail.’

  ‘He’s been very, very clever.’

  Bitterly, Maddie said, ‘Twisted, I’d say.’

  ‘He must be in love with you himself, Maddie. That’s the only explanation for all this, for everything he’s done. He wants you for himself and he’s tried to get rid of everyone else and . . .’

  They were staring at each other now and then simultaneously they both cried, ‘Nick.’

  ‘It was him,’ Michael said. ‘He must have given Dad the arsenic and then, when they took him into hospital and started to do tests, he must have got scared and tried something else.’

  ‘You – you mean, you think he caused the accident in the battery house?’ Maddie was horrified to think that Nick could want to kill the man who had been like a father to him. ‘But how could he have done it?’

  Michael shook his head thoughtfully. ‘I think he might somehow have caused a problem with the batteries.’

  ‘But that wasn’t what killed him. He fell backwards and hit his head. If Nick did plan it, he couldn’t have been sure of that happening, could he?’

  ‘No,’ Michael agreed. ‘But we’ve always been told how dangerous the battery house is. Dad instilled it into all of us. Maybe – maybe Nick thought it would kill him. It was just chance that, in a way, it did. But I still can’t work out how he did it.’

  Maddie bit her lip, frowning. ‘There’s something else I ought to remember, and I can’t. It’s – it’s something about that night but I can’t . . .’

  Michael kissed her forehead and murmured, ‘Don’t worry, darling. Maybe it’ll come back to you.’ He sighed heavily. ‘There’s nothing going to make it come right, and yet . . .’ His voice fell away as he murmured, ‘I would like to know exactly what he did do.’

  ‘And – and now? Do you really think he’s been trying to poison his own mother?’

  ‘I wouldn’t put anything past him, not after what you’ve told me and what he tried to do today,’ Michael said grimly. ‘He could have killed Adam and Jenny, you know. By the way, where is Mrs T? Is she still in hospital?’

  Maddie’s eyes were wide as she gaped at him. Then, despite the sadness of the last hour or so and all the trauma they both knew they still had to face, she clapped her hand over mouth to silence the laughter that bubbled up inside her. ‘Oh heck. I forgot all about her. She’ll still be sitting there in her hat and coat waiting to be brought home.’

  Fifty-Five

  ‘There’s something else,’ Maddie said as they walked hand in hand out to the field where Steven and Adam were picking the heads from the tulips.

  ‘Oh no,’ Michael said. ‘I really don’t think I can handle any more.’ He gave her a rueful smile as he said, ‘Go on, then. My shoulders are broad enough.’

  Indeed they were, Maddie thought, for a brief moment revelling in the strength of him that she needed so desperately at this moment, more than ever before.

  ‘I think we ought to leave Mrs Trowbridge where she is for the moment, if the hospital can keep her. At least for another day, if we can.’

  ‘’Til we find Nick, you mean?’

  ‘Well, that, yes,’ Maddie agreed. ‘But she said something very odd to me the last time I visited her. Nick put his arm round me when we were with her and she looked absolutely furious. I thought, like we’ve always known, that she doesn’t want him to have a girlfriend or even friends of any sort, but it was more than that.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘She sent him out of the ward, said she
wanted to speak to me alone. And do you know what she said?’ They both stopped and turned to face each other, standing in the lane leading to the field. ‘She said – she said that Nick is my half-brother.’

  ‘Your what? How on earth does she make that out?’

  ‘She said I was the bastard of her husband and Amelia Mayfield.’

  Michael actually laughed aloud. ‘Oh Maddie, this is getting dafter by the minute.’

  But Maddie was not laughing. She said nothing and Michael’s face sobered. He put his arm around her shoulders at the sight of her stricken face.

  ‘Don’t worry, darling. I’m back now and we’ll sort everything out. I’m here to take care of you now. I’ll look after you.’

  They were the same words that Nick had used, but oh what a world of difference there was between the two people who uttered that same promise.

  With Michael’s arm around her, they walked on and came to stand at the end of the field, watching Adam and Steven moving steadily down the rows, carefully deheading the tulips. Field after field of blooms stretched far into the distance.

  ‘You did it, my darling Tulip,’ Michael said softly and at the sound of his loving nickname for her, Maddie’s eyes filled with tears. The rainbow danced and blurred before her eyes, but now she allowed the tears to fall unashamedly and unchecked for they were tears of happiness. Michael was home, beside her once more, this time for ever.

  They were all squeezed into Mrs Grange’s tiny living room behind the shop, sitting around the table or in the two fireside chairs. Adam perched on the arm of one of them, leaning against his mother’s shoulder. Even Theo was with them. He had arrived at Few Farm to tell Maddie the bad news, that the result of the post-mortem had revealed extensive amounts of arsenic in Frank’s remains.

  ‘It’s no more than we expected, Mr Theo,’ Michael had said and went on to tell him swiftly of the day’s catastrophic events, finishing by saying, ‘We’re just on our way to Mrs Grange’s – all of us . . .’ he gestured not only towards Maddie, but to Steven and Adam too. ‘To see if she can throw any light on the mystery for us. It might help us to understand Nick a little better.’

  ‘May I come along?’ Theo had said. ‘I think, with what I’ve found out too, we may be able to piece things together.’

  And so now they were sitting in the small room whilst Mrs Grange bustled around with cups of tea and fancy cakes. ‘I’ll just close the shop and then we won’t be disturbed,’ she said. ‘You are sure my little Jenny’s going to be all right, though? She’s like a daughter to me, you know.’

  ‘She’ll be fine, Mrs Grange. Honest,’ Michael reassured her.

  ‘Oh Michael, it’s so good to see you again. And I can’t think what Mrs Trowbridge will say when she knows you’ve come home.’

  ‘No,’ Michael said quietly and glanced at Maddie. ‘Neither can I.’

  They waited, sipping their tea, whilst the woman scurried around her shop, locking the door and turning the notice on the door to ‘Closed’, switching off the light and emptying the till of its money. Returning to the room, she dumped the cloth bag of notes and coins into a drawer in the sideboard and took her place at the table, patting the ever-present blue felt hat into place. ‘Now then . . .’ She was smiling and seemed, Maddie thought, excited at the prospect of being the centre of attention for the next few minutes. ‘How can I help you?’

  Maddie saw Theo and Michael exchange a glance before Michael took the lead and said, ‘Mrs Grange, we should be very grateful if you would tell us all you know about Mrs Trowbridge and Nick. About their past.’

  The woman glanced at Theo, but when he smiled and nodded encouragement she took a deep breath and began. ‘Well, it’s all a long time ago now. Early Thirties it would be, Thirty-one or -two, something like that.’

  They waited patiently, without interrupting her, whilst Mrs Grange dredged through her memory, reviving the old gossip of years ago.

  ‘Harriet’s name wasn’t Trowbridge then, it was Cuppleditch.’ She looked around the gathering triumphantly and was obviously disappointed when everyone stared at her blankly. ‘She was Harriet Cuppleditch, married to John Cuppleditch?’ Again there was silence whilst they waited for her explanation. But then as she opened her mouth to speak, Theo muttered, ‘My God, you don’t mean . . .?’

  ‘I do,’ Mrs Grange beamed. ‘Him that hanged ’issen in your woods, Mr Theo.’

  A ripple of movement went around the room as everyone shifted uneasily.

  ‘’Course it weren’t your fault, Mr Theo,’ Mrs Grange added hastily. ‘You was only a bairn. The Cuppleditch family, John’s parents that is,’ she went on, ‘all lived in one of Sir Peter’s cottages. John’s father, Matt, was Sir Peter’s head groom and John, as soon as he left school, went to work with his dad in the stables. Harriet was a kitchen maid in the house. That’s how they met. She lived in, of course, at the Hall. They did in them days. John married Harriet . . .’ She paused and wrinkled her forehead. ‘Come to think of it, I reckon Trowbridge was her maiden name. Yes, I’m sure it was. Anyway, they got married. They were too young, only eighteen or so and things didn’t go right from the start. They moved in with John’s parents and there was already a big family of them. John was the eldest of five children, so at that time in their little cottage there’d have been mam, dad and four kids and then John and Harriet and their babby, Nick, when he was born . . .’ she wagged her finger and smiled, ‘only six months after they was wed, an’ all. So it was a shotgun wedding.’

  Maddie shuddered at the reference to a gun and put her arm around Adam. ‘Well, about this time, Mr Theo, your sister, Miss Amelia, started to learn to ride and as young John was so good with the horses, they asked him to teach her.’ She nodded at Theo. ‘I bet your dad rued the day he’d had that bright idea.’

  Theo said nothing but glanced down at his hand resting on the table, lines of sadness etched into his kind face.

  ‘She was such a pretty little thing in those days, Miss Amelia. Always laughing and chattering. So friendly to everyone she met. She always made you feel you were her equal, you know what I mean?’

  She did, Maddie thought, for Theo was just the same. He never played the lord and master like his father had done. He never tried to rule other people’s lives. He just tried to help them. She felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. The tale had to be told, Maddie knew, but she wished that Mrs Grange was not telling it with such glee.

  ‘Well, as I say. She was so pretty, so lively, such fun and poor John’s wife, Harriet, had turned into a real misery since she’d had the babby. Maybe if they’d had their own home, things would have been different. But who knows? Anyway, John and Amelia fell in love and when Sir Peter found out, he locked her away at the Hall. But it was too late. She was already expecting John’s child.’

  Maddie gasped aloud and knew now that the colour drained completely out of her face. Mrs Grange was looking at her now and nodding. ‘That’s what Harriet means. She thinks you’re that child.’

  Now Theo was leaning forward, his arms resting on the table. ‘I never knew my sister had a child.’

  Mrs Grange turned to look at him. ‘You’d be too young to be told, Mr Theo. You were only about eight, if I remember rightly. Your father did everything he could to keep it secret. But in a village like this, there’s not much that escapes us.’ She tapped the side of her nose. ‘But we know how to keep quiet when need be.’

  Oh they’d have kept quiet all right, Maddie thought, with a sudden spurt of bitterness. They’d have gossiped and revelled in the juicy bit of scandal amongst themselves but the livelihood of most of the villagers depended on Sir Peter Mayfield. They’d have kept their counsel, all right. They’d have kept Sir Peter’s family secret for him. Right until this very moment.

  ‘And you mean to tell me that Amelia had a baby and she just dumped her outside the Orphanage?’ Theo was quite defensive now. ‘My sister would never have done such a thing.’

  ‘Of course s
he wouldn’t. But your father would and by the time the child was born, she was, well, a bit turned in her head, like. You see, John had hanged himself by then. She was grief-stricken and I expect they hustled the baby away and told her it was stillborn or summat.’

  There was a murmur around the room.

  Theo asked harshly, ‘Why on earth did John hang himself?’

  ‘When your father found out about them, he sacked both John’s father, Matt, and John and turned the whole family, aye, Matt, his wife and all the bairns and John and his wife and child, out of the cottage. They lived rough in the woods for weeks and it was winter. February time, I reckon. Matt’s wife was expecting another bairn . . .’

  ‘Matt’s wife?’ Theo said. ‘Don’t you mean John’s?’

  But Mrs Grange was adamant. ‘No, it were Matt’s wife. I tell you there was a big family of them and you often get that, you know. A child can sometimes be older than its own aunt or uncle.’

  Theo pulled a disbelieving face but said no more.

  ‘Well, poor Matt’s wife – Mary, I think they called her – gave birth there in the woods, in the freezing cold and she died. After that, John went haywire. Out of his mind with guilt. He was absolutely beside himself that not only had he been the cause of his whole family getting turned out of their home, but, indirectly, he’d caused his own mother’s death. And, of course, he’d lost Amelia too. He just couldn’t live with the burden of guilt, poor feller.’

  There was silence before Maddie asked, ‘What happened to the baby that was born in the woods?’

  ‘Everyone thought it must have died, too, and been buried with the mother, because soon after, Matt left the district taking the older bairns with him, but there was no young babby with them when they left. Even I know that, because I saw them the day they went. He came into the shop, Matt did, to buy a bit of food, you know. I made him up a hamper, at me own expense, I did, ’cos I felt so sorry for the poor man.’

  If she was expecting congratulations for her generosity, Mrs Grange was disappointed. Everyone in the room was far too shocked by what they were hearing to even think of it.