It was Daniel Masson who dragged Luke out of the quarry. It was his hands, blue with cold that turned him on his side and beat him. It was Daniel who yelled at him to breathe. Other hands touched Luke that night. Other arms held him. Another kissed him and whispered in his ear: ‘Come on, brother mine. Get movin’. It’s your weddin’ day, the best day of your life! You don’t want Mam and Dad cryin’ again. You want to live and be happy.’
Thirty Three
Whispering
They went ahead with the wedding; Luke would have it no other way. They were late arriving at the church. As usual Bakers End news-reporter to the world rumours of last night’s events had spread, consequently the church was packed. When they appeared, Julia limping, her legs cut about, Matty pale in his sailor suit and white boutonniere, and Luke’s eyes black and blue, the congregation gasped in unison. ‘Dear me what a sorry looking lot,’ one woman whispered. ‘You’d think it a football match not a wedding.’
Julia who had dispensed with a posy that she might hold Matty’s hand was inclined to agree. Yesterday her wedding gown was considered dark and dull. Today grey velvet feels entirely appropriate. They are a sorry bunch, especially Luke and his black eyes. ‘Sherwood wanted my eyes,’ he’d tried joking. ‘I wouldn’t let him have them not and miss seeing my beautiful wife.’
It was meant to be a joyful occasion, a choir singing and lots of happy faces. The choir was silent and the organ moped in the background. Nan and Albert and the maids sat up front with Bertha Carmody, the rest are strangers. There was the odd face recognised, good faces, the beloved and brave like Daniel Masson who sombre and elegant sat at the rear of the church. Callie was not with him but then Julia didn’t expect her as she didn’t expect Hugh Fitzwilliam who sat in heavy sealskin coat by the font and waggled his fingers at Matty.
The vicar was sympathetically swift. ‘God bless you both,’ he said when pronouncing them man and wife, ‘and keep you safe from other such villains.’ At that point of the ceremony it is customary for the groom to kiss the bride. Luke did better. He reached down and lifting Matty up in his arms kissed them both. Then Matty still in his arms he took Julia’s hand and they left the church.
A carriage took them back to the cottage. There was a meal for those that wanted it but no one felt like rejoicing, not after such a night, and with dear Kaiser lying cold and silent under a blanket in the back parlour, the knitted Lamb between his paws.
It appears the maids couldn’t bear to be parted from the house, not even Maggie. One-by-one and in tears they came, ‘did madam mind if they had their week another time. They’d sooner stay and help dear Matty get over it.’
Julia doubted Matty would ever get over it. She certainly wouldn’t. Such a night! A hideous progression of mental and physical torture watching those she loved most in the world cruelly treated? Who recovers from that!
Thank God for Daniel! It was he who jumped into that fearful quarry and in saving Luke’s life saved Julia. They’d brought him back, Daniel and Crosby, propped between them his clothes wet with blood and his face torn. ‘Darling!’ She’d thrown herself at him. ‘My own precious darling! You went after that man! How could you be so foolish?’ He’d hugged her. ‘If this is what I am to hear when I do foolish things, you calling me precious, I’ll stay a fool.’ He’d smiled but his eyes were full of tears. Then Matty, sad little soul, crept downstairs to peep through the banister rails. Luke saw him. ‘Come here, my own dear boy!’ he’d called. Sobbing, Matty had leapt into his arms. For a moment they’d stood together, the two of them in silence recalling fearful things that Julia will never know because they will never tell.
They slept that night, what was left of it, with Matty between them. It was for their comfort and also to stop him continually creeping down to where Kaiser lay. ‘The dog was dead when I got to him,’ Daniel had said. ‘It’s as well. Had he lived I doubt he’d have walked again. It was the last blow that did it though I wouldn’t like to guess what broke first, the dog’s back or his heart.’
The police came amid the wedding breakfast and stood in the back parlour, the constable taking notes, and the sergeant heavy-handed with Dorothy.
‘You say you were not aware of an intruder, Miss Manners.’
‘No sir, not until I heard Kaiser’
‘Kaiser? That would be the dog?’
‘Yes sir. He started howling and that’s when I came running.’
‘Where were you when you heard?’
‘Down at the bottom of the lane.’
‘What were you doing there?’
Dorothy hung her head. ‘I was saying goodnight to Reg.’
‘And who might Reg be?’
‘My sweetheart.’
‘I see, bottom of the lane saying goodbye to your sweetheart, and your mistress away, and a thief rampaging around stealing goods and frightening a harmless little lad. Weren’t you supposed to be here minding the shop?’
‘I wasn’t gone but a minute.’
‘Ah well there you are. With chaps like Sherwood a minute is all it takes. And you saw and heard nothing before that to make you concerned?’
‘No.’
‘Thank you, Miss Manners. That’ll be all for now. Perhaps you’ll send the other one in, what’s her name, Margaret Jeffers.’
Dorothy hovered twisting her apron. ‘Are me and Reg in trouble?’
‘No, Dorothy, you are not!’ Julia cut in. ‘You made a mistake but it was an innocent mistake and for that you shan’t be punished. Go and sort Maggie out. We are all upset, there’s no need to labour the point.’
Dorothy fled in tears.
The sergeant frowned. ‘You ought not to let her off so lightly, madam. Innocent mistake or not had she been here your lad wouldn’t have been threatened nor your husband in danger of his life. People should take responsibility for their actions. If they did we wouldn’t have one man on a slab on the morgue and serious questions to ask of another.’
‘What kind of questions?’ Luke was behind Julia his hand on the chair.
‘Well for a start how did Nate Sherwood land up halfway down the quarry with a metal pole poking through his back?’
‘I had thought I’d already answered that.’
‘You said something about it, sir.’
‘But not enough?’
‘Enough for now I suppose. You say you fought, you struggled, and you fell in the quarry and that at some point you thought you’d drown.’
‘Oh Luke!’ Julia buried her face in her hands.
‘It’s alright.’ He pressed her shoulder. ‘It sounds worse than it was.’
‘So you didn’t think you were going to drown?’
‘At one point I did. Sherwood was hanging on me. I don’t think he could swim. He was pulling us both down. I tried not to struggle, to keep still hoping he’d strike for the surface. Then there was a jolt and he let go.’
‘That jolt was old mine workings, a piece of metal track sticking out the wall.’
‘It was sharp. It jabbed me.’
‘So I understand. Is that why your clothes were soaked with blood?’
‘Yes but not my blood Sherwoods. I was only scratched.’
‘Tell me about the jolt.’
Luke shrugged. ‘I don’t know what to say. A jolt is how I remember it, a kind of ricochet as though he’d run onto something or something run onto him.’
‘It had to be one hell of a jolt to push a metal post through a body and out the other side. You sure you didn’t give it a hand?’
‘How? How could I have done that? I’m treading water. I’m drowning! There’s nothing under my feet. If he was thrust onto a spike with that force how did I get the purchase to do it? The only way I could have shoved him was if someone shoved me, and not just a man, a goddamn Goliath!’
‘Yes well, that’s understood.’
‘I
s it?’
‘Yes of course, sir! Nobody is suggesting anything untoward.’
‘Aren’t they? Well let me suggest this.’ Luke’s hand tightened on Julia’s shoulder. ‘If I could have shoved him on whatever killed him I would’ve! And if I could’ve have drowned him I would’ve! That man brought terror to my family. He threatened harm to my boy and he hurt my wife and he killed a bloody good dog! He deserved to die, and if you’re looking to me for some kind of apology you’ll get none. He’s dead and I’m glad of it. Dead he can do no one else harm.’
Luke rang the bell. ‘And on that note, gentlemen, I suggest you put away your notebooks and share a glass of champagne with me and my wife because believe it or not this is our wedding day, and we, and I’m sure you, have better things to do than debate the death of a nobody.’
They buried Kaiser that evening as the last rays of the sun warmed the land. Luke said he would go out in the morning and get Matty another dog but that he needed this day to grieve. Matty wanted to know what grieving meant.
‘It means being sad,’ said Julia. ‘It means feeling what you are feeling and being grateful for Kaiser.’
Matty shook his head. He said sooner be ungrateful and have Kaiser alive.
Five o clock they all trooped out, Mrs Mac, Ben Faulkner, Nan and Albert, everyone. Luke carried Kaiser. ‘Where would you like him to be?’ he said.
‘I want him with Joe.’
‘With Joe?’
‘Yes. Joe Carmody is dead and so is Kaiser. If that are together in the one hole they can take care of one another.’ There followed a discussion, Bertha Carmody, Julia and Luke. ‘Well what do you think, Mrs Carmody?’ asked Luke.
Bertha wrung her hands. ‘I don’t tightly know. My Joe is to be laid down on Monday in St Mark’s churchyard. I suppose we might drop the dog in secret like. I don’t mind but I can’t see the vicar agreein’ or our Clifford.’
Luke went back to Matty. ‘Why don’t we put him under the lavender by the greenhouse? That way he can keep an eye on the plants and you. If you think about it, Matty, your bedroom overlooks the lavender, and if Joe was to come anywhere it would here in the greenhouse.’
Matty nodded, though unhappy he saw the sense in it. Luke dug a plot and laid the dog in the ground and covered him with his favourite blanket, and left him a rubber bone and the knitted Lamb for company.
‘Can we say a prayer, Mumma?’ said Matty.
‘Of course.’
‘Can it be Gentle Jesus?’
They all stood and recited the prayer. Then he wanted a hymn.
‘Can we sing Away in a Manger? Kaiser likes that.’
They sang all three verses and they all wept.
Again Matty slept between them. Restless, he tossed and turned and kept them both awake. Julia took Luke’s hand. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s not the most romantic honeymoon.’
He brought her hand to his lips. ‘Tush,’ he said softly. ‘A house full of maids with hot little ears pressed to the wall, and us two separated by a wriggling little fish, how can you not see the romance in that?’
Julia laughed, and then wept, and then laughed again. ‘What a horrible day! I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.’
‘I don’t suppose you will.’ He reached out and wiped tears from her face and then wiped his own. ‘Look at me,’ he said. ‘What a baby! I’m here in bed with the woman I love, and the kiddie I love, we’re married and no need of looking back, and yet I’m weeping.’
Julia huddled closer. ‘I love your tears and that you love us enough to weep.’
He slid his arm under her head. ‘It’s a strange thing that when we are most happy we are most sad. It’s been like this with me ever since we met. I’d think of you and like a fool I’d fill with tears.’
‘Happy tears?’
‘Not so much then but now yes.’
‘Even with black eyes?’
‘Especially with black eyes.’
‘You know your bruises match the bruises on my knees.’
‘Do they?’
‘Yes, black and blue.’
‘Alright then,’ his breath was warm in her hair. ‘When we’ve a minute to ourselves I’ll kiss them better.’
‘Will you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Promise?’
‘Word of honour.’
Matty went back to his room complaining that he ‘couldn’t sleep with Mumma and Papa talking and that wanted his own bed and Kaiser and the kittens.’ There was a horrible moment when he remembered, his mouth trembling, but on he went saying their bed was hard and they wriggled.
Softly and slowly, and carefully, tender with bruises and smothering such sounds as may give rise to blushes the following morning, they made love then, his hands gentle with her knees but his mouth and tongue less so.
There were moments throughout the night when it wasn’t easy to be quiet, when Julia had to hold onto the bed post so as not to scream. It was so very delicious and all so unexpected she wanted to ask, ‘is this you, Mister Wolf, biting my breast? I always thought you a shy sort of man unwilling to kiss in public. Is this loving of your imagination? Or is it the result of former tutoring and a teacher accomplished in the dark arts, a woman, an artist perhaps, one expressive of colour and with a powerful imagination?
Not wanting to deny pleasure she remained quiet and submissive and blissful, the thought never becoming the word, which is as well because come the dawn her own exploration of her husband’s wonderful body was surprisingly forthright. In the end she thought it best to remain dumb and accept the gift from wherever it was sprung.
Just after five she was woken by whispering. It was coming from across the landing. Luke was asleep, arm flung out and face toward the window, the bruises dark stains about his eyes.
It was odd crossing the landing with no dog to greet her and no friendly smile and cold nose pushed into her hand. She opened the door. Matty was talking in his sleep. She knew he must be asleep because although hoarse the words were easier to make out. He was in conversation with someone. Whoever or whatever they discussed animals Julia catching the words ‘puppy dogs.’ There was silence and then he began again this time reciting nursery rhymes
Oh the darling! Her heart rolled. He sounded happy and himself again! God bless him! Smiling she leant against the door listening. First there was one rhyme and then another. Then he laughed at something said and began to sing. That was when, suddenly cold, Julia went back to bed.
She would’ve tucked Matty in but he was busy and he wasn’t alone. Others sang with him and there was a tail that wagged, swish, swish, back and forth across the floor. They are best left to it.
‘Oh where has my little dog gone?
Oh where, oh where, can he be?
With his ears cut short and his tail cut long,
Oh where, oh where is he.’
Thirty Four
Epilogue
Buttercups, June 1902
They were doing the last of the packing when Luke found it, a red leather diary in the bottom of a tea chest. ‘What’s this, Anna?’
‘What’s what?’ she shouted from the bedroom.
‘This?’ He held it up.
She came to the door, a pile of linen in her arms and her hair tied up in a knot. ‘It’s a diary.’
Luke leafed through. ‘Whose diary?’
‘Justine Newman’s or rather Henry Lansdowne. I found it the year we moved in. To tell you the truth I forgot about it. It’s a chronicle of flower cuttings and seeds and the like he brought back to England and presumably to Justine. It should stay here really. We don’t want it.’
‘Okay so what do I do with it, leave it on a shelf?’
Smiling she rested the linen on her swollen stomach. ‘You know you really mustn’t spend so much time with Robert and Mamie Scholtz. All this okay and yay an
d drawling about you’re beginning to sound like Buffalo Bill.’
‘Does Buffalo Bill sound like that?’
‘I imagine so.’
‘What with a Yorkshire twang?’
‘Oh it’s a twang! I always thought it more a growl.’
‘You’re being a bit cheeky today, aren’t you, Mrs Roberts?’
‘No more than usual.’
‘Well enough is enough! You’re coming with me.’ He put the tea chest down and crossing the landing took her and the linen in his arms and carried her down the stairs. Then he lowered her into the cart with Ben Faulkner. ‘Take Mrs Roberts to the Nelson, Ben, and don’t take any argument. That’s my son and heir she’s carrying with that pile of linen and she needs to rest.’
There was a moment when she would’ve argued but seeing the sense of it she leaned down, kissed him, and off she went. It was an odd moment, a kind of reversal of a dream he used to have about Italy and vines and life in the mountains. He doesn’t have that dream now or if he does he doesn’t remember. In her seventh month and sick in the mornings she needs a bit of fussing and he’s too much to do here to break away. Come the night he’ll give all the fuss he can and be happy to do it but as things stand, Anna, the best beloved of Nan at the moment, she’ll get plenty fuss at the Nelson.
That Mrs Roberts Senior blesses the ground under Anna’s feet is because they are to stay in England sooner than move to Boston. They deliberated for all of last year but in the end chose to stay. One grandchild to smother and another on the way Nan is over the moon and Anna the best daughter-in-law in the world. There were too much against going, Anna pregnant, him overloaded with work, Nan claiming she’d never see them again alive and last but never least Matty and his music. There were good reasons to go as no doubt there are good colleges in Boston but perhaps none with the influence of the Royal College of Music and none with such a patron.
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