Nancy and Tom each had these memories.
They each had their suspicions.
But voicing them outright was another thing altogether.
Alice was exhausted. She had struggled so hard to get loose, but was strapped up so tight it was almost impossible to move. Moreover, the deep scissor-wounds on her scalp were causing such pain that even moving her head was painful.
Whenever she tried to shout, all that came out was a useless, muffled noise.
Desperate, she tried shuffling again, inching her bottom along the floor. It was painstakingly slow, and the movement of dragging herself along seemed to tighten the ropes about her wrists and ankles. ‘You have to get help!’ she told herself over and over ‘…You have to stop him!’
She had seen the malice in Frank’s eyes, and she knew now what he was capable of. There was no doubt in her mind that he would kill Joe without an inch of compassion. After that, he would be back to taunt her with the news, before killing her too.
Blaming herself for telling him what happened between her and Joe, she was determined to somehow get out of the cottage, and raise the alarm.
She gritted her teeth and continue to inch her way towards the door.
After what seemed an age, she realised that at last, she was actually making progress; albeit agonisingly slow. Keep going, Alice! she thought, to herself. Keep going! The thought of Joe in danger spurred her on.
Time and again, she had to stop and take a breath. But to give in now, would be suicide, she knew that.
When at last she was within reach, she shuffled the last few inches to the front door, where she fell against it; so weak, and in such pain, she wondered if she would die there.
For the moment she was unable even to raise her head. So she stayed like that, trussed-up and muffled; with every last ounce of strength used up.
When she felt her senses slipping away, the voice in her head would whisper, ‘You can’t give up, Alice.’ With Joe heavy in her mind, she found a new determination.
She brought her gaze to rest on the small bolt in the bottom panel of the door. Being an old cottage with low, ancient doors, the two bolts were set one in the top panel and the other low down.
By fidgeting and rolling, she managed to position her mouth near to the bolt, which was undone, with the long handle jutting out. She then thrust her mouth forward, hooked the gag over the bolt-handle, and pulled. When finally the cloth was out, she drew in great gushes of air, filling her lungs and yelling out, for someone to help her.
Having heard Frank lock the door as he left, and knowing that she was too isolated for anyone to hear, Alice looked in vain for a sharp object that she could back up against and cut the ropes around her wrists, but every movement was laboured by the fact that she was still not free.
Twisting from side to side, she tried to reach the bolt, to see if she could cut the ropes that way, but it was impossible. Desperate that at any minute he might burst in through the door, she cast her gaze about the room, searching for a means of escape. But there was no easy way out. She couldn’t think straight. What to do? What to do?
The only other feasible chance she had was through the window. It was near enough for her to get to, and low enough for her to hitch herself up to the wide, flat window ledge that jutted out at the base.
Having inched herself on to the ledge, she soon realised it was not as easy an escape as she thought. The only glass pane that might open was the small one across the top, impossible for her to open, and even more impossible for her to fit through.
Remaining on the window ledge, she took a moment to think.
Examining the window, she noticed how there were six small panes; each one of them encased in its own little lead-frame. They were then linked together in a larger frame; which was attached to the stonework on either side.
Alice saw how the stonework was uneven in places, which meant every now and then, little gaps appeared all round the frame, where over the years, the lead had shrunk away.
This was her only chance to get out before he came back for her! She couldn’t sit about and hope her grandparents got to her first.
With every ounce of strength left in her, she launched her weight again and again at the window, hoping it might give; though each thrust of her weight took its toll on her. And the weaker she grew the more she realised that no one was coming to help.
Any minute now, Frank would come in through that door. He would torment her, and then he would finish her off.
CHAPTER SEVEN
STILL SEARCHING FOR work, and deeply bitter about the way Frank Arnold had treated him, Jimmy emerged from the spinney.
Seeing a nicely rounded piece of fallen branch, he stooped to collect it. ‘That’ll keep the home fires burning a while longer,’ he chuckled.
Taking a moment to string the sizeable collection into a bundle, he then set off back to his cottage. ‘This little lot will keep the fire going of an evening,’ he muttered as he went. ‘Thanks to that swine, Frank Arnold, I need to watch the little bit of money I’ve saved.’
At every place he’d been to ask for work they’d turned him away, with the empty promise that if anything came up, they’d be sure to contact him.
Jimmy didn’t believe them for one minute. He knew Frank Arnold had been telling everyone not to take him on, because he was trouble.
‘If it weren’t for that devil, I’d be earning a wage instead o’ counting pennies, and foraging the spinney for bits o’ firewood!’
He had been toying with an idea. ‘I reckon I should have a word with old Tom. He knows I’m a good worker. All these years, he’s never had cause to complain. Huh! I bet if he knew how Frank had beaten me wicked like that, he’d have something to say and no mistake.’
Just then he came out on to clear ground. ‘By!’ Throwing down the sizeable bundle of firewood, he settled gently on to it, legs open wide, arms folded across his knees. ‘If the Lord ever created anything more beautiful than this, I’ve yet to see it!’
From this one particular point, he could see right across to the far-off lake, and in between the land positively danced before his eyes, curving up then down, with all manner of different shades linking arms one into the other; green grasses; mustard coloured crops, and trees of every shape and magnitude.
Sometimes, when the sun shone and the shadows played on the land, everything shifted and moved, as though united in some kind of magical dance.
For a time he just sat there, looking and listening.
On such a day as this, the world was so still, if you listened hard enough, you could hear your own heart beat, Jimmy thought.
After a time, his thoughts returned to Frank Arnold. ‘Mebbe I should have a word with Tom,’ he mumbled. ‘Trouble is, when it comes right down to it, blood’s thicker than water, and rightly so. Mind you, I’ll never understand how such nice folk as Nancy and Tom Arnold ever created a monster like that!’
As he stood up to resume his journey home, he paused, his eyes drawn to the far bank which led up to the rise. ‘What the devil’s that?’
Placing the palm of his hand across his forehead to shut out the daylight, he peered down. There’s somebody there: what’s he playing at? Jimmy wondered.
He focused hard, drawing back when he thought he recognised the figure. ‘Is it? I’m sure…’
Screwing up his eyes he looked again. ‘If I’m not mistaken, that’s Frank Arnold…what’s he doing? Looks like he’s holding a shotgun.’
Jimmy watched for a time, trying to work out what Frank was up to. ‘He’s either hunting a rabbit or two, or he’s ready for the funny farm, otherwise why is he lurching along like that…keeping low, hiding in the shrubberies? What’s he up to now, the mad bugger!’
Shaking his head, he collected his bundle and ambled along. ‘Now then, long way or short way home?’ he asked himself. ‘Short way means I’ll be back sooner so’s I can change into summat smarter; that’s if I’m still of a mind to go and have a word with th
e butcher…see if he might have a vacancy in the shop, seeing as Cathy Lucas is due to have her baby any day now?’
The thought of serving in a butcher’s shop did nothing to excite him. ‘It’ll be better than nothing though,’ he reasoned. ‘At least it’ll give me a wage coming in, until such a time as I find work on the land.’
He decided on the shortest route. ‘A job in a shop is better than no job at all,’ he said. ‘So then, Jimmy! It’s a wash and change then straight down to the village. Who knows, you just might be lucky this time.’
By changing direction, he had to climb the hill, before he went down again. As he did so the land fell away and the high banks expanded into a plateau. From there he caught sight of Joe fixing the fencing.
‘Joe!’ he called out. ‘Hey, Joe!’ But the wind carried his voice to the elements; and when he began waving, he realised that Joe was too far away and too intent on his work, to see him. Jimmy had always liked Joe. He was a different kettle o’ fish to his brother, that’s for sure!
With Frank popping into his mind, he glanced back. There was no sign of him, and then suddenly, there he was…low down, making his way along the edge of the spinney. Jimmy gave a cynical laugh. ‘Them poor rabbits don’t stand a chance, not with Frank Arnold after their furry tails!’
Sniggering, he went on his way; spurred on by the hope that today, he might find work.
The clock chimed. ‘Good Lord! The day’ll be gone before we can turn round,’ Tom was rummaging in the long-cupboard by the stairs. ‘Nancy?’ When there was no reply, he called again, this time louder, ‘Nancy, love!’
Nancy came hurrying in from the kitchen. ‘There’s no need to shout. What’s the matter?’
‘Have you seen my shotgun?’
‘No.’ Still reeling from the shock of finding the bird like that, she had no enthusiasm for this conversation. ‘What would I want with a shotgun?’
‘Do you know if Joe took it with him?’
‘I didn’t see, but I wouldn’t think he’d need a shotgun to put up fencing, would you?’
Tom closed the cupboard. ‘No, you’re right but what about Frank? I don’t think he would take it without asking me, though he can be a sneaky devil when he wants.’
He was nervous all the same. ‘I meant to lock it up in the cabinet,’ he said. ‘Only, what with everything, I can’t remember if I did, and now I can’t even find the keys to the cabinet!’
‘I shouldn’t worry,’ Nancy told him. ‘I expect Frank locked it away, and in all the excitement he must have put the key into his pocket.’
‘Yes, I expect he did. He knows I’m strict about that shotgun being locked away when it’s not needed. But like I say, I can’t even find the key to the cabinet.’
Nancy was concerned. ‘Why d’you want the shotgun?’
Tom was reluctant to say, so he merely skated over the truth with a white lie. ‘I’m off to check the yard for signs of rats and such,’ he said. ‘The last thing we need is a pack o’ rats running round the place.’ The kind of rat he was thinking of did not have four legs and a tail.
Nancy wiped her hands on her pinnie. ‘I’ll go and look in Frank’s trousers. They’re still here, and the key might be in his pocket.’
As she turned, all hell was let loose. ‘Tom! Nancy! For God’s sake open the door!’ The door was being kicked so hard it almost burst off its hinges.
Tom swung the door open, ready to give their visitor a piece of his mind. ‘Jimmy! What the devil…’ His eyes were drawn to the sorry bundle in Jimmy’s arms. ‘Good Lord above…is that…’ He thought he recognised Alice, but the face and head were so bloodied and broken, he wasn’t sure.
Jimmy was frantic, his words tumbling one over the other as he tried to explain, ‘It’s Alice! She’s hurt real bad! I thought she were dead…she were just lying there…oh, she’s not dead is she Tom? Only I thought she were dead…I had to bring her here…I didn’t know what else to do…’
‘Quick, Jimmy! You’d best get her inside.’ While Tom took charge, Nancy was rooted to the spot. White as a sheet with her hands clasped over her mouth, she was unable to take in what she was seeing.
‘Lie her on the couch, Jimmy…quickly now.’ He led Jimmy through. ‘Oh, dearie me, what’s happened to her? Where did you find her? Where was she? Jimmy! What happened?’ The questions poured out in a nervous torrent.
Watching as Jimmy gently laid Alice on to the big old couch, Tom felt sick to his stomach. ‘Stay with her, Jimmy,’ he instructed. ‘I’ll phone the ambulance.’
Seeing how Nancy was running her hands through her hair, her stark gaze fixed on Alice’s ravaged scalp, he spoke sharply, ‘Nancy! You know what to do, love! Get some warm water and towels.’
Nancy snapped out of her trance and went away in a hurry.
Losing his fear of the telephone, Tom dialled the emergency number and asked for an ambulance. ‘Straightaway, yes! Yes…Alice Arnold…she’s been attacked. She’s in a real bad way…quickly, please. As soon as you can!’
After giving his address, he turned to Jimmy, who by now was trembling so much he could hardly speak. ‘I found her lying there. I didn’t know what it was at first,’ he stuttered, ‘I had to pass the cottage…it was the quickest way. I saw the window…all smashed to pieces it were, an…well, I didn’t know…I didn’t see nobody there.’
Seeing how badly affected Jimmy was, Tom quietened him. ‘So, you found Alice at the cottage?’
‘Yes, at the cottage. She was on the ground outside…she weren’t moving. I thought she was a goner, Tom. I really thought she was…’
Openly sobbing, and greatly relieved that he had got her to safety, Jimmy started gabbling. ‘The window was all broken…there were pieces of glass lying outside. Alice was all mixed up in it.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Oh, Tom, I don’t understand…why was she all tied up like that? Will she die, Tom…will she?’ And then he went all to pieces again.
‘Hey!’ With Nancy now tending to Alice, Tom held Jimmy still. ‘Ssh now, Jimmy, you need to tell me. Where’s Frank? Did you see Frank?’
Still in shock and sweating profusely, Jimmy wiped the flat of his big hands across his face, while he made an effort to concentrate. ‘Frank?’
‘Think, Jimmy! Did you see Frank?’
‘Yes…I did.’ The memory of Frank creeping along by the spinney loomed large in his mind. ‘He wasn’t at the cottage.’
‘Where was he then?’
Jimmy shook his head.
‘Concentrate, Jimmy. When you saw Frank, where was he? Was he safe? Had he been attacked? Jimmy! Where did you see Frank?’
Jimmy knew. ‘He was near the spinney; he was heading for the rise.’
He paused, a terrible memory coursing through his troubled mind, of that night when he saw Joe and Alice in the barn. One thought led to another. ‘Oh, Tom! Was it Frank who hurt her? Did he find out what they did in the barn? Oh, Tom! I never told that I’d seen Alice with him…I never told no one!’
He grew angry. ‘He’s not a good man like you and Joe. Frank hurt me too. If Joe hadn’t stopped him, he would have killed me for sure!’
‘Jimmy!’ Thankful that Nancy was too busy with Alice to have heard what Jimmy had said, Tom grabbed him by the shoulders and drew him away, his voice little more than a whisper as he asked Jimmy, ‘What did you mean just now, when you said you’d seen Alice in the barn. Who was she with? What exactly did you see, Jimmy?’
Thinking he would get the blame, Jimmy clammed up. ‘I never saw nothing!’ And beyond that he would not be drawn.
Realising this was not the time, Tom decided not to push him any further; though he was anxious about what Jimmy had let slip. Who was Alice in the barn with? It couldn’t be Frank, or Jimmy would not be so nervous. Joe’s name sprang to mind, but he could not let himself believe he and Alice could do such a thing.
He tried to reason it through. Joe had saved the falcon, and Alice was fascinated with the bird, so that must have been what Jimmy saw;
Joe and Alice, in the barn, and it was as innocent as Alice taking an interest in how the falcon was doing.
Or was he just trying to cover up the truth, he asked himself. Was it really something unthinkable? Enough to send Frank over the edge?
Realising he may have let slip too much, Jimmy was pleading. ‘I never saw nothing!’ He was frantic. ‘Nothing at all!’
Tom decided now wasn’t the time to press the matter. All he knew was that he desperately needed to find his two sons. ‘Jimmy, listen to me! You said you saw Frank at the spinney, and you think he was heading up to the rise. Have I got that right?’
‘Yes…he was hunting rabbits…making his way up to Joe.’
‘He was hunting rabbits, you say?’
‘Yes!’
Tom’s heart sank. ‘Think hard, Jimmy!’ Placing his hands on either side of Jimmy’s shoulders, Tom turned his head so that he was looking straight at him. In a harsh whisper, he asked, ‘Did Frank have a shotgun with him? I need to know! Could you see if he had a shotgun?’
Jimmy nodded, ‘O’course! He was hunting for rabbits, that’s why.’
In the middle of tending to Alice’s battered body, Nancy turned to look at Tom, and she saw her own dark thoughts echoed in Tom’s face.
They were both thinking the same: of how Frank had a destructive streak in him. They were each recalling all those years ago, when Frank had hurt that little boy.
And now Alice had been trussed up with ropes in exactly the same way.
There was no doubt in their mind that Frank had done this to her.
Tom was fearful that Frank had learned of what Jimmy saw, and that he was out there now, armed with a shotgun, and headed straight for Joe.
Intent on helping Alice, Nancy cut away the remnants of the bathrobe; at the same time trying to maintain Alice’s modesty by means of a sheet.
Behind her, Tom was quietly addressing Jimmy. ‘Listen to me, Jimmy, I don’t want you telling Nancy what you told me, about what you saw in the barn…you and me, we can talk about that later. Okay? Nancy must not be worried about all that. Do you know what I’m saying, Jimmy? Nancy must not be told!’
Blood Brothers Page 18