Deep Waters

by Ann Cliff

  Soon after Kit and Jim had clopped out of sight, Ben gave a warning bark, followed by a growl. He still walked with a limp, but Ruth’s comfrey ointment had helped him to heal quickly. As soon as he could, he had gone back to shadowing Rachel, although rounding up sheep was still beyond him.

  Rachel looked up quickly to find that Guy had appeared beside her in the wash house. ‘Where’s Garnett gone?’ he wanted to know. ‘Has he got permission to go off like that?’

  Rachel felt like telling him to mind his own business, but decided against it. She felt very alone, with nobody in the yard except herself; it would be better not to annoy the youth. ‘They’ve gone to chop down a dangerous tree at the school,’ she said quietly. ‘He did tell the Major about it.’

  ‘I am supposed to help my father manage the estate and I need to know what the servants are doing,’ Guy announced. ‘He should have told me.’ This was bad news; if the Major had decided to involve Guy in the estate, life would be difficult for all of them. He turned to look at Rachel with bloodshot eyes. ‘And what are you doing, hot little Rachel? Perhaps you should tell me what you are up to.’ He put an arm round her waist. ‘My, you do feel hot! Just the way I like my women!’

  Rachel moved away from him. ‘I am making cheese, the milk is getting warm and I am adding rennet to set the curd,’ she said firmly. ‘Please leave, Mr Guy.’ Deliberately, she took the pan off the fire and added rennet to the milk. The fire scorched her face.

  ‘How long will it take to set the curd?’ Guy asked, peering at the milk as though he were interested in the process. He closed the door.

  ‘It varies … about twenty minutes, I suppose,’ she told him. ‘Up to half an hour.’

  The man grinned. ‘Quite long enough for what I have in mind. I’ve been planning it for a long time. It won’t interrupt the process at all.’ He grabbed her quickly and pinned her down on a heap of linen waiting for the wash. ‘This is what I have in mind and I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. But if not, I love a fight.’

  Guy proceeded to tear off Rachel’s clothes, handling her roughly. ‘Why do you wear knickers? Bad girls don’t need them! You’ll feel hotter without!’ He pulled them off.

  Rachel struggled and screamed, but he was too strong for her. Guy was surprisingly strong and used his weight to pin her down. She was helpless; so this was what rape was like, losing your honour on a wash house floor.

  Her feet were free now of encumbering clothes and Rachel managed to kick the door open a little. Immediately, Ben erupted through the door, all teeth and growing fiercely. He flew at Guy, sinking those fearsome teeth in the youth’s arm. Guy yelled and tried to hit the dog, but Ben was too quick for him. Barking and snapping at Guy, he jumped and circled round him.

  ‘Good boy, Ben! Get him!’ Rachel struggled to her feet, pulling on her clothes. ‘Thank goodness you’re here, Ben,’ she gasped. Her face and shoulders were bruised, her lips were swollen, but she had avoided the worst.

  Guy gave up and went out, banging the door behind him. He nearly ran into Cook, who was bustling across the yard. ‘What’s all the commotion?’ she asked. ‘What’s happened, Mr Guy? You’re bleeding.’

  ‘The maid was trying to seduce me, they’re all alike,’ he lied, and limped away. ‘Damned dog bit my arm. Should be shot, a dog like that.’

  Rachel was smoothing her hair and trying to calm her nerves when Cook looked in. ‘Are you much hurt, Rachel? Did he … no? Well, that’s something.’ Cook looked her over critically, but then she smiled. ‘I’m sure you didn’t encourage him. You’d best lock the door, while you make the cheese. I’ll bring you a bite to eat at dinner-time.’

  Ben was licking his injured leg, but he was very pleased with himself. Guy had failed to get in a blow at him; Ben had won the contest easily

  Rachel’s hands trembled as she went through the ritual of making cheese, but the process soothed her a little. She had no idea what to do about Guy Potts. Ruth had said she thought he would go back to the London house soon, which would please everyone. Meanwhile, she would tell all the servants so that they could protect the female staff. She wondered what happened at other big houses and hoped that the young men in them had some consideration for others; Guy Potts considered no one but himself. Surely, the Potts would realize sooner or later that they had reared a monster.

  At last the cheese was done and Rachel went back to the safety of the farmhouse kitchen. She shuddered to think how close she had come to being raped. What would happen to a young woman like herself, if she fell pregnant? She would be a fallen woman, with all the blame that would accrue. Her parents would know the truth, but the rest of the world would label her immoral.

  Wondering what to say to her mother, Rachel smoothed her dark hair as she crossed the misty yard. But Ruth had much on her own mind and, surprisingly, she didn’t notice the girl’s bruises.

  ‘A good morning for the job,’ Kit said as he and Jim travelled the familiar road to the village. The sky was grey, with mist hanging in the treetops and there was only a light breeze.

  ‘Aye, I was hoping wind would drop,’ Jim agreed. A strong wind could be dangerous; it might change the angle at which a tree would fall. Warm weather would make such hard exertion a trial, with sweat blinding their eyes.

  As they clopped down the village street a few children followed them, but they were sternly told to keep away.

  ‘This is no job for bairns,’ Jim told them.

  At the school, instead of Mr Jackson, they found Miss Ward. Violet was just as beautiful as Jim remembered from the village meeting, small and fragile. She was just like a violet in fact, her huge eyes lifted shyly to his face.

  ‘Good morning, Jim, it is so good of you to come to help us.’ She glanced at Kit. ‘And you too, Mr – sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.’

  Since the night of the meeting, he’d been thinking of her more than he should, as a man who was practically engaged to be married. Jim swallowed and looked at Kit, but the older man was busy unloading the big cross-cut saw.

  ‘Good day, miss,’ he croaked. How could a lass have such an effect on him? It had never happened before. He pulled himself together. ‘This is Mr Garnett.’

  ‘Mr and Mrs Jackson’s had to go to see his mother, she’s ill,’ the young teacher told them in her high, girlish voice. ‘So they asked me to be here, to see if there’s anything you need.’

  ‘There’s no call for you to give up your Saturday, miss,’ Kit said. ‘We certainly don’t expect a little lass to help with cutting down a tree. I think we can manage, thank you.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Violet seriously, ‘but I board just over the street, it’s no trouble. And I have to give you a cup of tea and a slice of teacake. Mrs Jackson said it was only right if you’re helping the school.’ She smiled at Jim. ‘I did volunteer to do it.’

  ‘How – how long have you been in Firby?’ Jim asked the girl, wondering how he could have missed seeing her before. He was hungry to know everything about her.

  ‘Only this term. I’m from Skipton, but I love Firby,’ Violet said a little breathlessly. ‘My papa’s a sheep farmer. I expect you’re a farmer too, Jim?’

  By the time Jim had found out what breed of sheep her family kept and what her brothers and sisters did, Kit was impatient to start work.

  ‘Well, thank you, Miss Violet, we’d like a cup of tea later on, but you needn’t stay out here in the cold. Now Jim, let’s make a start or we’ll be here all day!’

  His future father-in-law had spoken. Jim blushed and took his end of the saw, but Violet stayed, sitting on a stump close to them. Usually so handy with tools, he felt awkward and clumsy, unable to forget he was being watched by those big blue eyes. After he had made two or three mistakes, Kit looked at him and then said to the girl, ‘Look, miss, you’ll be in danger here soon, you want to be nowhere near a falling tree. Why don’t you go home for an hour or so?’

  ‘But it’s so interesting!’ Violet breathed. Rather than saw through the base o
f the tree at its thickest, it was usual to cut slices out of the trunk higher up, where it narrowed. They then put a plank of wood across the trunk at that level, a platform from which to operate the saw. It was tricky work, fascinating to watch.

  ‘You are so brave, Jim!’ Violet called up to them. She was not taking Kit’s advice.

  Jim looked over from his side of the tree. ‘We don’t want to have to tell Mr Jackson there’s been an accident … Go now, lass, and if you want, come back when we’ve got it on the ground.’

  ‘Do take care, Jim, won’t you?’ Violet departed, with many backward looks, after which Jim’s work went a little more smoothly. He wished he hadn’t asked Kit to help – he was too observant, he’d guessed how Jim was feeling. Would an old man like Kit remember how it felt to be young? At that moment, Jim was feeling younger, much younger than normal. He had discovered excitement, fascination, and wondered why he had not felt it before. Rachel was … everyday, familiar.

  When Violet came back he would have to pretend to be indifferent… . It was dangerous to lose concentration. Everything she said seemed to Jim wonderful, original. Her golden hair and blue eyes made her look like an angel. How could any man be indifferent?

  Jim’s heart sank. It was probable that every young man in the parish would be impressed with Miss Ward and they’d be falling over each other to see her. They’d find out where she went to church and develop an interest in religion. They would ask their mothers to invite the young teacher to Sunday tea, or better still, get their sisters to befriend her. Jim wished he had a sister. Violet Ward would not be lonely for long … better concentrate on the job.

  When the saw had bitten deep into the trunk, the tree began to sway slightly at the top. Now Jim was thankful that Kit was with him, steady in the face of a possible calamity.

  ‘Saw this side,’ Kit instructed him. ‘And get ready to jump.’ The saw was moved.

  They had planned the way the tree would fall, up the slope and away from the wall round the school grounds. What if they got it wrong, what would Violet think if they smashed the wall? The tree leaned and groaned, a human sound that made Jim shiver. In revenge, it might fall on them and crush the life out of them. There was only a hinge of wood left, for the tree itself to break as it fell.

  Kit pulled out the saw and threw it well clear. Jim hesitated.

  ‘Jump!’ Kit yelled, and they both jumped into soft ground. Jim shut his eyes and prayed.

  There was a crack as the hinge wood broke, then an ominous whistling sound, a moment when it seemed anything might happen. Looking up, Jim saw mist swirling round the doomed tree as it sank. Then a resounding thud shook the school yard. He started to breathe again. It was down.

  Kit’s experience had ensured that there was no accident that day; the tree had hit the ground fairly close to where it should be. He worked for a while, cutting off limbs and then he looked across at Jim.

  ‘I’ve a fair bit of work at home, lad,’ he said. ‘Do you think you can manage the rest?’

  Perhaps the day would be easier without Kit looking over his shoulder. ‘Aye, Mr Garnett, I’m right enough now. I’ve just got to make it safe, so the little school lads can’t hurt themselves scrambling about and falling off the logs.’ Jim paused, easing his back. ‘I’ll cut it up smaller next weekend, for school fires. Shall I drive you home?’

  Kit said he would walk and as soon as he had gone, Violet appeared with a basket.

  ‘Where’s the labourer?” she asked Jim.

  ‘Mr Garnett has gone home, he’s the farm manager for Major Potts,’ Jim told her.

  ‘Oh … I’m sorry, I thought he was one of your workers.’ Violet unpacked the basket. ‘Please have a drink of tea and something to eat. You have worked so hard. I’m glad I wasn’t here when the tree fell, I would have been frightened, I think.’

  Jim sat on a log, glad of the rest. Kit had kept working steadily and so Jim had had to do the same. Violet perched beside him, looking very pretty in a blue cloak with a hood.

  ‘Are you warm enough?’ he asked her. The mist had lingered in the village, drifting in and out of the gardens, wrapping itself round the school bell. He felt an urge to protect this little lass from the cold.

  Violet shed a few tears for the tree. ‘It was old, I know, but the shade in summer was good for the children. Such a pity it had to die, Jim.’

  ‘Mr Jackson will likely plant another in its place.’ Jim had an idea. ‘I’ll go into our wood at home and maybe I can find a tree seedling, bring it in for Mr Jackson to plant.’ He looked at her. ‘They might let you plant it, Violet, since you were here today.’

  The girl’s face lit up like a child’s. ‘I would like that, Jim, if you were here to dig the ground for it.’

  They talked about Violet’s life in Skipton, her teacher training and her friends. She hoped to marry and have children in the future, she said, but not yet and there was no particular man in mind. Jim was more and more fascinated. This girl was clever enough to be a teacher, but she was prettier than any teacher he’d ever seen.

  Violet asked him about his family and his plans for the future. Yes, he admitted, he was talking to a girl briefly at the village meeting, Mr Garnett’s daughter.

  ‘I’ve known Rachel a long time,’ he said.

  ‘And are you betrothed to her?’ Violet persisted, using an old-fashioned term.

  Feeling guilty, Jim shook his head. It was true, there was no formal arrangement, but he’d told Rachel they would marry one day. ‘Not really.’

  ‘I suppose we shouldn’t be sitting here like this,’ Violet said after a horse and cart had lumbered by, the driver casting glances in their direction. ‘People will talk.’

  Jim wanted her to stay, desperately wanted to keep her there as long as possible. He had never felt like this with Rachel … and yet he hardly knew Violet.

  ‘I don’t think so, people are more interested in their own affairs, lass. It was kind of you to bring me the tea. What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘Well, nothing… .’ Violet glanced at him under her long lashes. ‘To tell you the truth, Jim, the days when I’m not teaching are very long for me. I can only go home in the school holidays, but I don’t know many people in Firby yet.’

  ‘Poor little Violet! I bet it won’t take long for you to settle down here. Stay with me while I tidy up the timber, make it safe for the little ones.’

  Kit walked home from the school thinking about Jim. He would never have believed that the lad was susceptible to young women; he’d always been quite casual with Rachel. In fact, it seemed to be mutual. Would Rachel care very much if Jim deserted her? He was quite a hard worker and likely to be prosperous, but Kit knew he had no interest in books and had a narrow mind.

  He reached home and soon forgot about Jim; he walked into a storm.

  ‘Sorry, Father, we’ve got trouble, I’m afraid.’ Rachel felt sorry for her father, covered in sawdust and looking rather tired. Cross-cut sawing was heavy work.

  ‘What’s wrong, lass?’ He noticed that Rachel was looking harassed and she had several bruises. ‘What’s happened to you?’

  Her own frightening experience would wait until later. ‘Lady Agnes wants to see all the staff, every one of us. In the old dining room, at once.’ Out in the yard, she brushed down his clothes. ‘Mother’s there already. They’re waiting for us.’

  ‘What’s upset her?’ Kit thought of the work waiting for him. ‘Will it take long?’

  ‘I don’t know, nobody knows. The Major’s away, of course.’

  All the Hall staff, indoor and outdoor, stood shivering in the cold dining room, where the mist from the valley seemed to have cast its chill. Kit went to stand with Ruth, and Rachel followed him.

  Lady Agnes looked at her sternest. She stood in front of the empty fireplace, looking down her aristocratic nose.

  ‘Have any of you seen strangers skulking about the grounds?’

  Bewildered, the servants shook their heads. ‘No, m’lady.
’ The kitchen staff looked even more nervous.

  ‘In the last few days, a robbery has occurred. Valuable goods have been stolen and I intend to get them back. It is likely that one or more of you are implicated in this. If you know anything at all, have seen anything suspicious, it is your duty to tell me. Even if it involves another servant.’

  Kit, as the senior member of staff, was the only one who dared to speak. ‘Please, Lady Agnes, would you tell us what is missing? It will help me to ask the right questions.’

  Rachel could tell that her father was seriously annoyed. The Major would have told the Garnetts of the problem before he called the staff together. They were entitled to know first, unless – Rachel went cold – they themselves were under suspicion.

  Perhaps it was the jewellery, Rachel thought. Lady Agnes possessed many rings, bracelets, necklaces and earrings, the envy of Cook, who loved such things. They were kept in a safe, under lock and key … but unfortunately, Rachel knew where the keys to the safe were kept. The Garnetts knew all the secrets of the old house between them. They had the security of the whole place in their hands.

  ‘It is clear to me that one or more of you knows exactly what is missing. I will give you all a few minutes to decide what you will tell me.’ Lady Agnes moved and a necklace caught the light. Maybe it wasn’t the jewellery that had gone, after all.

  ELEVEN

  Roger took to the moor road on that misty Saturday morning, thankful his horse was moving well and was keen to be off. Leeds Corporation managers were taking an alternative dam site more seriously, following some intervention during the week by the people of influence. Leeds wanted more information, more measurements and estimates from him regarding a moorland valley, Woodley Crags, higher up the dale.

  It might be a case of starting all over again. This sort of thing had happened before. When Roger talked to the Chief Engineer, Mr Bromley’s boss, he had accepted the idea of looking elsewhere.