Suzie kept moving along the rows of graves and eventually found the one she was looking for. As she expected, it was among the overgrown and long-forgotten. She knelt down on the damp grass in front of it and ran her fingers along the lettering.
In loving memory of our dear daughter,
Lily Williams
Your life was tragically short,
but every day we shared with you
brought us pleasure beyond measure
February 21st 1922–September 30th 1931
‘Poor Lily,’ muttered Suzie. ‘Your parents loved you so much they could not come to terms with losing you. They were so full of grief they refused to talk about what happened, even to your brothers and sisters. You would have been my great aunt, but I had never even heard your name until yesterday. It is as if you never existed.’
Suzie took a notebook from her bag and wrote down the dates. She stood up and looked around her. Across the road, in the hedgerow, a mixture of wild poppies and forget-menots were thriving in a profusion of colour. Suzie crossed the road and snapped off a dozen stems which she carried back to Lily’s grave. Using her bare hands to tear at the long grass she cleared some space just below the headstone and carefully laid the fresh flowers down on the ground. Remembering that Marie had taken a day off for a wedding dress fitting, she then flicked open her mobile telephone and dialled her sister’s number.
‘Marie,’ she said. ‘Could you do me a favour and pick up Daniel from school this afternoon? I’ve found Lily’s grave and I want to stay late at work to look in the newspaper archives for any reports of her death. Will you be finished with your fitting in time?’
‘I should be,’ replied Marie. ‘But do you want some help? I know how many boxes you’ve got in that archive room. You could be there for hours.’
‘I know, but I can’t take Daniel with me, I’d never get anywhere and David won’t be able to get him from school.’
‘Okay. I’ll take entertaining my nephew over dusty newspaper archives any day,’ said Marie cheerfully.
‘Thanks Marie. I’ll see you later.’
To Suzie, the day seemed to stretch on interminably. She was a little late arriving at work, but Tom, still concerned about her, was understanding. She called Aunt Emily to check on her mother and was relieved to hear she seemed much better. She had cried when Emily told her about Lily, whom she did not remember hearing anything about. She seemed glad to have Emily there for company and had eaten some breakfast. Suzie breathed a sigh of relief; perhaps she didn’t need to worry about her after all.
At the end of the day, Suzie stuck her head around the half-open door of Tom’s office. ‘I’m just going to head back to the archive room for a couple of hours if that’s okay with you.’
Tom raised an eyebrow. ‘Of course,’ he said.
The atmosphere in the archive room was very different to the previous day, illustrating the pervading influence of the weather. Today, the sun had finally managed to filter through the clouds and was shining boldly in through the small window, revealing the dust particles in the air that seemed to hover aimlessly. Surveying the racks of boxes for the second time in two days, Suzie this time felt she had more purpose and confidence in the task ahead of her. She pulled out her notebook and consulted the dates she had written down. The important one was the 30th of September 1931. She was going to need October 1931 copies to start with.
‘Typical,’ she cursed at the box on top of the rack again. Why did that always seem to be the case? She dragged the step ladder over and was about to start climbing when the door to the archive room opened to reveal Tom, carrying two cups of tea and an open packet of digestive biscuits. He put them down on the small table.
‘Let me do that,’ he said, ushering her down from the ladder. ‘Which box did you want? The one at the very top I guess.’
‘Yes please,’ she said gratefully.
‘How about you tell me what this is all about?’ he asked as he placed the box on the floor beside the table.
‘It’s becoming quite a long story,’ said Suzie, sitting at the table and helping herself to a biscuit to dunk in her tea. ‘I’ll give you the abbreviated version.’ She paused, habitually twisting a strand of hair between her fingers, and related the events of the last few days since the moment her mother had questioned the date of her grandparents’ wedding all the way through to what she had discovered about Lily’s tragic death.
‘I went to the graveyard this morning in Upper Chaddington and found her grave. I’ve got the dates here and I thought I would look it up, see what I can find out. I know that is not necessarily going to help me to find my real grandad, which is something I feel I have to do as well for many reasons, but I feel I need to know what happened back then in order to understand why my grandma and Edward acted the way they did and why Frank, the man I have always thought of as my grandad, insisted, when he married my grandma, that Annie, my mum, would be brought up as his daughter and no one was to tell her any different. I need to understand all of this to make sense of who and where we are today and to help my mum get through it. And I need to find out what happened to Edward.’ Suzie took a gulp of her tea and looked across at Tom. ‘That’s pretty much everything so far,’ she said.
‘So, where shall I start?’ was Tom’s only comment as he lifted the lid from the box he had just retrieved from the top rack.
‘You don’t have to do this,’ Suzie said.
‘Are you kidding? This is the best mystery I have ever come across. You just try to keep me away.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Unless you would rather I didn’t get involved,’ he added hesitantly. ‘Look, I know I’m your boss, but I really value you as a member of this team. You could go much further, if you choose to, but I realise that a career is not top of your list. I will take whatever you want to give, because I know I can leave you with a job to do and you’ll do it. I know I can rely on you and trust you and that goes a long way for me. Right now, all of this is distracting you and so as your employer I have a vested interest in helping you to find out what happened.’ He paused. ‘But who am I kidding? I can’t resist it. I want to help. I’ve spent my life being fascinated by the past, studying it and trying to use it to make sense of the present. Isn’t that just what you’re trying to do? I would love to help you, if you’ll let me.’
‘I accept,’ Suzie smiled. ‘But I really don’t know what we’re going to find. You promise you won’t think anything less of me for whatever roguish antics of my ancestors we may uncover?’
Realising she was teasing, Tom winked and simply took the first newspaper from the box and started flicking through its pages, scanning the headlines. Suzie took the next archived paper from the box and for a while the only sound in the archive room was the rustle of old newspaper as the two of them read together silently, the pile of newspapers steadily growing taller on the table between them. It was Tom who found the first article. The newspaper edition was from the 2nd of October 1931. The glaring headline on the front page was unmissable:
Local girl drowns in tragic accident
Silently, Tom handed the paper to Suzie.
Upper Chaddington was shocked on Sunday when a local girl drowned during a family picnic at Pickney Lock. Lily Williams, aged nine, was on a day out with her best friend, Celia Johnson, and her family to celebrate Celia’s tenth birthday when the accident happened. Celia’s parents, Martha and Brian Johnson, were reading the Sunday newspapers and were not clear about how the accident happened. Nor did Celia or her three brothers, Edward, aged twelve, Archie, aged seven and William, aged four, see what happened. Witnesses on board the boats that were in the lock at the time reported a young girl suddenly appeared on the wooden top of the lock gate. She was waving at some friends on the other side and was rushing to join them when she slipped on the wet wood and fell in.
The lock was emptied and the body of a young girl recovered. Attempts to resuscitate her failed and she was pronounced dead at the scene. An inquest into her deat
h will be held at the Coroner’s Court in Barminster on October 14.
Suzie rummaged in the archive box and pulled out editions covering the week before and the week after the 14th of October, looking for the report from the inquest. Another front page item, this time accompanied by a grainy image showing two men seemingly squaring up to each other on the steps of the coroner’s court, was easy to spot. The headline said:
Trouble erupts after accidental verdict recorded in Pickney Lock drowning case
Suzie read on:
After hearing all the evidence in the tragic case of Lily Williams, the nine-year-old girl who drowned in Pickney Lock, the coroner recorded a verdict of accidental death at Barminster Coroner’s Court. The verdict was not favourably received by Lily’s family. Her father, Terry Williams, aged 35, was heard to shout in court that his daughter had been in the care of the Johnson family at the time of her death and he held them entirely responsible. Mr Williams claimed that their negligence had been to blame. If they had been properly monitoring the activities of the children, the accident could have been prevented.
Afterwards, on the steps of the court house, a scuffle erupted between Mr Williams and Mr Johnson during which Mr Williams had to be restrained from physically assaulting Mr Johnson. Mrs Williams was visibly very upset and pleaded with her husband to come away. Mr Williams complied but stated very firmly that he held Mr Johnson and his wife culpable and would not rest until that was proven in the eye of the law.
‘Well, that’s the start of the family feud then,’ stated Suzie, putting down the newspaper.
‘That’s why I find history so fascinating,’ said Tom, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Nothing can remain hidden for ever if you are prepared to take your time looking for it.’
‘That would seem to be true,’ agreed Suzie. ‘If only discovery came with a set of instructions about how to deal with what you find.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I have to go, Marie collected Daniel from school for me but it will be bath and bedtime soon. Thanks Tom, for your help and for being so understanding.’
‘Think nothing of it,’ he replied. ‘Actually, I think I might stay for a while and do some more digging. I just love what you can learn from newspaper archives.Why don’t you photocopy those two items on your way out and leave the newspapers on your desk. I’ll put them away later.’
Marie lived in a modern house in a quiet cul-de-sac on the outskirts of Barminster. Before Suzie could ring the bell the door opened and Daniel flew out to greet her.
‘He has been watching for you,’ said Marie, appearing in the large hallway behind him and giving her sister a hug. She led the way into the kitchen and handed Suzie a large glass of red wine. ‘Here, I expect you could use some medicine.’
Suzie took a sip and smiled at her sister and her son. ‘Have you two been having fun without me then?’
‘You bet,’ said Marie.
‘We made a den,’ confirmed Daniel enthusiastically. ‘It was great. And I pretended to have a gun so I could keep the baddies out.’ He thrust his arm towards Suzie with two forefingers pointing at her and the other fingers and thumb clenched as in a fist. ‘Bang, bang!’ he said to demonstrate. ‘But then Aunty Marie said we had to put everything back before Uncle Peter got home, so I can’t show you. But it was brill.’
Suzie smiled affectionately. ‘Thanks Marie,’ she said. ‘How was the dress fitting?’
‘I’m going to be a vision in swirling silk and lace embroidery. But come on. Spill the beans. Did you find anything?’ Marie asked impatiently.
‘Yes, we did actually.’
Marie frowned. ‘We?’
‘Tom volunteered to help me look – brought me tea and biscuits actually. Very sweet. Tom found this.’ Suzie handed Marie the photocopy of the first clipping. Marie read in silence. ‘Then I found this one,’ Suzie added, handing over the second photocopy.
Marie sighed when she reached the end of the short article. ‘It’s very sad,’ she said. Even Marie, usually so matter of fact, was affected by Lily’s tragic story.
‘It’s even sadder when you see her grave,’ Suzie replied. ‘It’s overgrown with grass and weeds and completely forgotten. I’ve left some flowers on it.’
‘So what next?’ asked Marie. ‘We know how the family feud began, but it doesn’t get us much further.’
‘Tom stayed behind to keep looking for any more articles,’ Suzie said. Marie raised an eyebrow. ‘But I know what you mean. We are no closer to finding out if Edward Johnson survived the war or not and if he did, what happened to him and whether he’s still alive. What’s more, I don’t have the first clue what to do next.’
‘It sounds as though your wonderful boss might have some good suggestions, though,’ Marie observed. ‘He seems to be relishing the opportunity to do a bit of historical detective work. Unless that’s not the main attraction.’
‘Don’t even think that,’ laughed Suzie. ‘He is genuinely interested – and not in me, other than me being a brilliant employee who he simply can’t manage without, of course.’
‘Naturally.’
‘Anyway, it’s bath time for this little fellow,’ Suzie said, grabbing Daniel from behind and scooping him up, kicking and screaming. ‘Say thank you to Aunty Marie for looking after you, Daniel. It’s time we went home. Maybe Daddy will be home, too. Love to Peter.’
Suzie hugged Marie and left with Daniel. David’s car was already on the drive when they arrived home.
‘We’re back,’ called Suzie as she kicked the front door closed behind her.
‘In here,’ called David. ‘Just raiding the fridge, sorry, but I’m starving.’
Daniel rushed at his father and encircled his knees with his arms. David laughed.
‘Could you get Daniel into the bath while I just call Aunt Emily and see how Mum is?’
‘Sure. Come on, son, let’s go and fill that bath with bubbles.’
Suzie dialled Annie’s number. The phone was answered almost immediately.
‘Hi, Aunt Emily. How’s Mum?’
‘Hello, dear. Well, she’s a bit shaky, to be honest. She’s really not herself. Just sat in that armchair all day with Marmaduke who has hardly left her side. She does not want to eat anything or do anything. I don’t really know what to do for the best. Should I call a doctor, do you think?’
‘What can a doctor do? This isn’t a physical thing, is it? She’s in shock and suffering emotional trauma. Let’s see how she is tomorrow. I’ll pop in on my way to work. I have some newspaper articles to show you as well, about Lily. They shed more light on the feud. I would come over now, but I’ve only just got home with Daniel, I’ve got dinner to get ready and I’m really tired.’
‘That’s okay. There’s nothing you can do if you come over here tonight. I can cope. You get some rest and have a nice evening and I will see you in the morning.’
David pushed his dinner plate away and took another sip of his wine. ‘What next then?’ he asked.
‘I’ve been asking myself the same question,’ Suzie said. ‘I’m going to involve Tom in this because I think he could be a great help. I need to find out whether Edward Johnson was ever confirmed as dead or missing in action and I think the only sensible way of doing that is through his regiment. We could spend hours, days even, going through newspaper archives, but the period of time is simply too long – from February 1942 to the end of the war is a lot of newspapers.’
‘If he did return, would he have gone back to his old job?’ wondered David.
‘It’s certainly a possibility,’ said Suzie. ‘But even that isn’t easy.We’re not exactly sure what his job was and Chaddington Manor has belonged to the National Trust for years – certainly all of my lifetime. I don’t know what happened to the de Lacey family, why they left the manor or where they went.’
‘But a family like that wouldn’t be too hard to track down,’ David persisted. ‘I could make some enquiries for you among the legal firms. They may have used local solicitors.
Bertie Ward may even remember them.’ Bertie Ward was one of the senior partners at David’s firm. His father had founded the practice in the 1930s and Bertie had joined in 1951. Although he was well past the age of retirement, Bertie still handled a number of the firm’s longest-standing clients and maintained that retiring to a life of golf and dinners at the club would be the death of him.
‘Good idea,’ agreed Suzie, stifling a yawn. ‘Thank you. But now I’m exhausted, so it’s off to bed for me.’
11
Too Many Victims
Next morning, Suzie stopped at Annie’s on her way to work.
‘Morning, Mum! Morning, Aunt Emily!’ she called as she pushed open her mother’s front door.
‘In here, love,’ Emily replied from the kitchen. Annie and Emily were sitting at the kitchen table each nursing a large mug of tea. Suzie thought her mother looked tired and somehow disconnected from the room, as if she was there physically but her mind was elsewhere. She was still in her dressing gown and she was just staring across the kitchen at the clock on the wall, but Suzie could tell her eyes were unfocused. It was the blank, unseeing gaze of a blind person towards a familiar sound, as if the presence of the clock and its comforting tick-tock was somehow providing Annie with a fragile link between the questions and doubts that were dominating her mind and the reality of life continuing all around her.
Suzie decided to act as normally as possible. ‘I can’t stop,’ she said. ‘I just called in to show you these. Opening her bag, she pulled out the photocopies of the two articles she and Tom had found yesterday. ‘We found these in the newspaper archives,’ she said. ‘They certainly explain how a feud started between our family and the Johnsons. I have been to her grave as well, Lily’s that is.’
The Roots of the Tree Page 11