Bonfire Memories

by Sally Quilford

  “I’m not sure that it does, Mr. Haxby. Because I still don’t know what happened to her. I am very grateful to you for taking the time to look into this for me.”

  “If you ever find out the truth, do let me know.”

  “I will thank you.”

  With that, they were politely dismissed.

  “I’m sorry,” said Cara, as they walked back to the hotel to collect their suitcases. “I know you wanted definite news.”

  “I will find out what happened to her, if it’s the last thing I do,” said Guy, his lips set in a determined line. “Come on, I have to get back to Midchester.”

  Cara had almost forgotten that the sender of the telegram was waiting for him. They collected their things from the hotel, and made for the station. Guy barely spoke all the way home and Cara did not feel like talking.

  This was it. Soon the trip would be over, along with the brief moment of happiness she had enjoyed with Guy. She knew that she could never see him again, not even as an employee. It was too painful to be with him.

  As soon as she reached Midchester, she would look for another job. She bit back the tears that threatened to fall. Not just for Guy, but for Nancy. She did not know how much more heartache she could take.

  They reached Midchester station in the early evening. It was already dark, and a mist had fallen over the town again. As they got down from the train, the light on the platform illuminated what could only be described as a vision. Cara recognised her immediately.

  Selina Cartier stood on the platform, dressed in furs, with her platinum blonde hair shining under the lights. She was wearing far too much make up, especially around her eyes. Cara wondered what Guy could see in someone so overblown, but she supposed he was used to that, working with actresses. “Guy,” Selina called, as they stepped down from the train. She ran to Guy and threw her arms around him. She spoke with a Southern Belle accent. “Ah thought you’d never get here, and ah needed you!”

  “It’s all right, darling,” he said, holding Selina close and kissing her on the forehead. “I’m back now and everything will be fine.”

  They left the station together, leaving Cara standing alone with her bags. By some miracle her heart could survive a whole lot more breakage, which was a pity as she would have quite liked to die at that moment. Somehow she managed to pick up her bags and put one foot in front of the other.

  Martha Potter seemed to understand as soon as Cara got home. “I heard that Selina Cartier is here,” she said, as Cara threw her luggage down in the kitchen. “That Enid woman told Mr. Fletcher at the shop.” She took Cara in her arms, instinctively knowing that she needed a hug.

  “Oh, mum, I’ve been so stupid,” said Cara, bursting into tears. “Again!”

  “No,” said Martha, hugging her daughter tighter. “He’s the one who’s been stupid.”

  ***

  Martha did what she always did when Cara was in pain. She sat her at the kitchen table, filled her up with tea and insisted she ate a plateful of egg and chips with a doorstep-sized chunk of bread and butter. She sat in silence until Cara was ready to talk.

  Because her feelings for Guy were too raw, Cara pushed her plate away, and told her mum about the meeting with Richard Haxby instead.

  “So the mayor used to rob houses?” was all Martha could say. “Fancy that. I always knew there was something about that man. Then again, he’s done well for himself since, I’ll give him that much.”

  “But it’s all based on lies, mum. He preaches to us all about crime prevention, and yet we’ve been in more danger of him breaking into our houses.”

  Martha laughed. “Oh!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “That reminds me. Poor old Peg got broken into last night.”

  “Oh God, is she alright? Did she get hurt?”

  “She’s fine. She disturbed whoever it was, and they ran away. She’s staying at the vicarage for now. Reverend Cunningham wouldn’t hear of her staying home alone. She said she wanted to see you.”

  “Maybe I’ll walk up there. She said she wanted to see us … but I suppose Guy has other concerns now.”

  “It’s getting a bit late, sweetheart. Go tomorrow when you’ve had time to rest.”

  “Perhaps you’re right.”

  “I’m always right. I’m your mother.”

  “You’re the best. You always forgive people, mum.”

  “I forgive you because you have such a hard time forgiving yourself, Cara. You’re young. You’re allowed to make mistakes.”

  “I can’t help thinking that if I hadn’t packed my job in with Nancy, I’d have been there with her and she might have lived.”

  Martha’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “Yet I’ve been thanking God every day that you weren’t at the pub that night. You might not have lived, and I can’t even bear to think of that. I think Nancy had a reason to tell you it was time you moved on. She was keeping you safe from whatever trouble Sammy was in, I’m sure of it.”

  “I wish she’d kept herself safe.”

  “Ah, but as you know, my darling, when it comes to men, women are seldom sensible.”

  “Gee, thanks, Mum. I feel so much better now.” Despite that, Cara managed to laugh.

  “That’s better. In a few weeks’ time, Guy Sullivan will be long gone and you’ll forget about him.”

  Cara was not so sure about that.

  She was just about to go up to bed when the telephone rang.

  “Hi, Cara, it’s Guy.”

  “Hello.”

  “Look, I’m so sorry for wandering off and leaving you at the station. I should have helped you get home safely.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t have far to walk.”

  “Even so, I’m sorry, Cara. Things are a bit hectic up here, but that’s no excuse for my bad manners.”

  Cara did not know what to say to that. That last thing she wanted to think about was Guy having hectic reunion sex with Selina Cartier.

  “Are you still there?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m still here. Like I said, don’t worry. You obviously had more important things to deal with.”

  “You’re important to me too, Cara. I do worry about you.”

  “Well don’t. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

  “Can I see you tomorrow? I’d like to talk to you about something.”

  “Erm, no, sorry. I have to go and see Peg.”

  “I’ll come with you. She said she wanted to see us both.”

  “No, that’s not a good idea. I think she has her own concerns at the moment. Her house was broken into last night.”

  “Jesus Christ! Is she okay?”

  “Mum says she is. I’ll know more tomorrow.”

  “Well, keep me posted, will you? She’s a nice old lady.”

  “Yeah, of course. Goodnight.” She put the phone down.

  She went to bed and had disturbing dreams about Guy passionately kissing Selina Cartier. The scene shifted to the village hall and Peg picking up slips of paper, before someone came up behind her and hit her on the head.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I should have killed the old woman when I had the chance. She was there, in front of me. I don’t know what stopped me. It certainly wasn’t affection for her. Maybe it was self-preservation.

  As far as I know, what happened to Sam and Nancy might be put down to a schoolboy prank. But if I hit Peg Bradbourne over the head with a hammer during a break in, someone might start questioning why there were so many murders in Midchester in such a short space of time. Soon those questions will come to my door and I may have to account for myself.

  I had to run before she saw me clearly, without knowing what was on that slip of paper. There’s nothing else for it. I have to get away from Midchester. But how? I dare not get in touch with my old contacts in Germany. Besides, they’re all a bunch of turncoats. How quickly they capitulated when Berlin fell, covering their tracks and pretending they had no choice.

  All the
things I’ve sacrificed for the Fatherland … Greta … oh darling, foolish Greta.

  I can make a new start, somewhere else, where no one knows me. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.

  On Sunday morning, Cara received a phone call from Peg, asking her to go up the vicarage whilst the vicar and Meredith were at the church.

  “We can have a nice quiet chat,” she said, when Cara arrived at around ten-thirty. Peg fussed around in the vicarage kitchen, making tea and putting chocolate digestives onto a plate.

  “Are you all right, Peg?” asked Cara. “Mum said you disturbed the burglar, but she didn’t mention if you were hurt.”

  “Oh I’m fine, my dear. You look a little pale.”

  “I’m just tired from travelling,” said Cara. She held out her hands for the tea tray.

  “Thank you, Cara. Take it into the sitting room. We won’t be disturbed there.”

  When they were seated, Peg insisted Cara tell her everything about what they had learned from Richard Haxby. Cara could manage that, but she avoided Peg’s more searching questions about herself and Guy.

  “So the Mayor was a burglar, hey? We always knew there was something, but couldn’t quite work out what.”

  “So why did everyone vote for him in the local elections, Peg?”

  “I don’t know… It’s a strange thing. When I think back to his speeches, they always sounded so rousing. But since I’ve had more time to think about them, I realise he actually said very little at all. Like Hitler.”

  “I don’t think he’s Hitler, Peg. He isn’t even the German spy they think has been hanging around here for a while.”

  “Yes, I wonder who that could be. Most of the men around here were born here, apart from Eric Black. And my nephew-in-law, Andrew Cunningham.”

  “I don’t think the vicar is a spy, do you?”

  “He has those Aryan good looks that Germans go so wild about, but no, I think Andrew is definitely one of us.”

  “What about Mr. Simpson?”

  “Len! No, he hasn’t got the brains to be a spy. Not that he isn’t a good, hard-working man.”

  “Herbie,” Cara suggested quietly.

  “No, dear girl. Herbie isn’t all that bright either.”

  “Oh, but he is, Peg. Mum says he has hidden depths.”

  “Hmm, somehow I don’t think she’s talking about his intellect.”

  “Peg!” Cara could not help laughing. “I know what Herbie did during the war was silly, but he’s not a bad man either.”

  “No, he isn’t. And he did a good thing, taking on your mother and five children.”

  “I wish I’d appreciated him more at the time. I think I’ve probably been really ungrateful to him. I run rings around him when I was a teenager.”

  “Then he really has been a father to you,” said Peg, with a smile.

  “Nancy knew something, I’m sure of it. The afternoon before she died she told me that there might be things about Guy’s sister that even he didn’t know about. I took it to mean that Greta was a spy, but now I wonder if she meant something else entirely. If only we knew why Sammy run away.”

  “Oh, but we do, dear,” said Peg, taking a sip of her tea.

  “Do we?”

  “Well, we do now. Mr. Fletcher told me about it the other day. One day, back in nineteen-forty-six, Sammy went into his shop to buy cigarettes. After he’d paid for them and gone away, Mr. Fletcher found out the five pound note was forged. He called in the police and everything. It wasn’t the first time it had happened you see. I think Sammy must have realised he was in trouble, and then run away.”

  “Mr. Haxby said something about forged notes, Peg. He said there had been a few, but they didn’t track down the culprit. He thinks the Germans did it to undermine the economy and hit at morale. We need to find out where Sammy got that note.”

  “Yes, that would help, but I can’t imagine who would know.”

  “What about one of his friends from that time? He might have said something to them about it.”

  “Let me see? Who was he running around with then? There was your brother, Freddie, of course.”

  “Yes, but mum said they never really hit it off. I don’t think Freddie would know. I could ask him, I suppose.”

  “Freddie might have told your mother, Cara?”

  “No, not if Sammy asked him not to. Freddie can be really secretive about things.”

  “Yes, so I’ve heard,” said Peg, wryly. “Does he still share a flat with Ralph?”

  “Yes, he does,” Cara said with mock sternness. “Yes, maybe I’ll give him a ring. I suppose I should be getting back. Oh, Peg, I forgot. When we were coming away from the village hall the other day I saw you pick something up from the ground.”

  “I wondered when you were going to ask me about that,” said Peg, with a secretive smile.

  “Why? Is it important?”

  “I don’t know, but I noticed everyone looking. It was just a scrap of paper with one question written on it.”

  “What question?”

  “It said ‘Who is Lotte?’”

  “Lotte? Guy mentioned his sister having several friends called Lotte. I suppose Mr. Anderson heard the name and didn’t know the connection with Greta Mueller.”

  “Or,” said Peg, sipping her tea with a benign expression on her face, “he might have been wondering who in Midchester was Lotte.”

  Cara’s eyes widened in surprise. “You think one of the Lottes is here? I suppose that would explain why Greta ended up here. I ought to go and see Guy and tell him.”

  “You said that very reluctantly, Cara. I thought you and Guy were getting close.”

  “Selina Cartier was waiting for him at the station last night,” said Cara, miserably.

  “So I heard,” said Peg.

  “How can you have heard that, Peg? It was late yesterday evening and hardly anyone else was there.”

  “There’s always someone about in Midchester,” said Peg. “Meredith’s cleaning lady was collecting her son from the station. He’s in the army, you know. Anyway, she told me when she arrived this morning. She says Miss Cartier is very beautiful, but wears far too much make up.”

  “She shovels it on with a trowel, I think. Oh, no, I shouldn’t be bitchy,” said Cara. “She is very beautiful.”

  “In my day there was only one reason a woman wore that much make up.”

  “Because she was a prostitute?” said Cara, unable to resist another catty remark at Selina Cartier’s expense.

  Peg laughed, but there was sadness in her eyes. “No, dear, because she was hiding something far worse. A black eye, a bruised nose.”

  “Oh, you mean her husband hits her.” Shame-faced, Cara looked down at her tea. “Now I feel rotten. I suppose that must be why she turns to Guy. But why doesn’t she just leave her husband, Peg?”

  “It’s very difficult to switch off your love for someone, even if they are cruel to you.”

  “You sound as if you speak from experience, yet you’ve never married. Have you?”

  “No, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t fallen in love with the wrong man.”

  “I seem to make a habit of that,” said Cara. “Though no one has ever hit me, so I suppose I should be grateful for that.”

  “There are other ways a man can wound a woman. He doesn’t need to use his fists.”

  “I know,” Cara said, remembering how she felt when Guy ushered her out of the hotel room. She found herself telling Peg all about it. “I used to tell Nancy all this type of thing,” she explained. She remembered late nights when she sat on the edge of Nancy’s bed, sharing all her secrets, and it grieved her to think she would never be able to do that again. “But I couldn’t tell mum because I was afraid she would be disappointed in me. And now I suppose you think I’m cheap and awful.”

  “I think no such thing,” said Peg. “Shame on Guy for making you feel that way. If he cheapened what should have been a special night that was his problem, Cara, not yours. I a
lso know Martha well enough to know she would never be disappointed in you. She’s got a very forgiving soul, has Martha.”

  “Yes, I know. I was only saying the other day that I wish I was more like her. Though I don’t think I can ever forgive Guy for yesterday morning.”

  “Oh, you might, if he turns up and says all the right things,” said Peg, with that familiar twinkle in her eye.

  Cara shook her head vehemently. “No, that’s it. I’m off men for good.” She was a bit disconcerted when Peg burst out laughing.

  “Anyway,” said Peg, when she was more composed. “I suppose I had better give you this to take to Guy.” She slipped her hand into her cardigan pocket and pulled out the piece of paper. “He should know about it, Cara, even if you are angry with him.”

  “Yes, I know. With any luck he’ll soon find out what happened to Greta then he’ll go back off to Hollywood or Australia and I’ll never have to see him again.”

  “The day you can say that and look happy about it is the day I know you’re really over him.”

  “I’m really a hopeless case, aren’t I?” Cara said, smiling sadly.

  “Oh no, Cara.” Peg shook her head solemnly. “I’ve always had very high hopes for you, my dear.”

  Cara left Peg at the vicarage and went home to place a call to her brother, Freddie. Ralph answered and said that Freddie was out, but that he would ask him about Sammy Granger as soon as he got home.

  She decided to walk up to the Grange. She would have to face Guy sometime and it was better to get things over with. She also resolved to show him that she did not care about Selina Cartier. She would be composed and friendly, and then he would not have the satisfaction of having hurt her.

  Her resolve trembled slightly when she knocked on the door of the Grange and Selina Cartier appeared. She had been expecting Enid to answer.

  “Cara?” she said with a smile.

  “That’s right,” she replied, formerly. “I wondered if I could see Mr. Sullivan, please. I have some information to share with him about his sister.”

  “I’m so glad to meet you properly.”

  Cara looked at Selina and frowned. The southern belle accent had gone to be replaced by a faint Australian twang. The make-up and coiffured wig had also gone. In their place was a fresh faced young woman, with pretty blue eyes and natural blonde hair, who was only a few couple of years older than Cara. There was also the hint of a bruise around her eye, which brought to mind what Peg had said.