Laura squeezed Jess’s arm wordlessly then slipped away.
Jess made herself another coffee and carried it up to bed. She felt so sorry for Laura as she recalled their conversation about Beth. Once more, it had put her situation into perspective. Of course, what Mel had done back in Paris was foolish and unforgivable, but she was young and bright and with time she would grow out of her moods and have a future in front of her, whereas Beth . . . Jess could well understand why her mother worried so much about her. There were unscrupulous men out there who would take advantage of her, given half a chance, and she knew that Laura would never stop worrying about her. She had formed the opinion long ago that Laura’s husband Den left the parenting very much up to his wife. He was a nice man, but very quiet and unassuming. Now that she came to think about it, she doubted if she had met him more than half a dozen times in all the months she had lived there. It appeared that as long as he could go to work, come home and put his feet up, he was happy with his lot and she wondered if sometimes Laura didn’t yearn for a little more out of life than just a special needs daughter and a pipe and slippers husband. Laura must have been really pretty when she was younger, and she was still a very attractive woman. And yet she barely left the house, and even when she did, she always had Beth in tow as if she was afraid to let her out of her sight. It was all very sad.
Hoping to take her mind off things she decided to read some more of Martha’s journal. As she lifted it from the drawer she found herself smiling for the first time since she had discovered the drugs in Mel’s bag that morning. She was shocked to find that the thought of Martha being here no longer frightened her. It was as if she had been blessed with her own guardian angel, if there were such things, and again she was keen to discover the next chapter in Martha’s life.
25 November
Miss Melody sent for the doctor today. Granny has taken a turn for the worse and the Mistress has said she must stay in bed until she improves. Meantime Phoebe has taken over Granny’s cooking and her chores in the kitchen . . .
‘I’ll take them up to her,’ Polly offered as Martha loaded some broth and the potion the doctor had prescribed onto a tray for Granny. Polly was Miss Melody’s maid and had joined the household shortly after Miss Prim. She was about the same age as Martha and the two girls were getting along famously. A small round girl with mousy brown hair, she was not the prettiest of creatures but her sunny personality more than made up for that. She was responsible for laundering all the young Mistress’s gowns and keeping her rooms tidy, and like Miss Prim she was very fond of Miss Melody. She had certainly been a great help in looking after Granny who was not proving to be a good patient at all and complained endlessly about being confined to bed. Polly also had a knack of making Granny take her medicine whereas she would refuse it from the others.
‘Here, take her one o’ these up an’ all,’ Phoebe piped in. ‘I know she’s partial to a jam tart.’ She loaded a tart fresh from the oven onto the tray as she spoke.
‘Right you are, missus.’ Lifting the tray, Polly disappeared through the green baize door.
‘She’s a nice girl, ain’t she?’ Phoebe commented. ‘This place ’as certainly been a lot happier since the young Master an’ Mistress arrived.’
Grace, who was sitting at the side of the fire on the wooden settle, working on a peg rug, nodded in agreement. Her ankles were badly swollen now that she was in the advanced stages of her pregnancy, but whenever she was forced to rest she spent every spare minute stitching curtains, cushions, rugs and bedclothes ready for her new home. ‘It certainly has. And as for the young Mistress . . . it’s thanks to her that Bertie an’ me will have our very own home. It’s comin’ on a treat, though I don’t get to see much o’ me husband any more. He’s too busy with the buildin’ now, since they delivered the blue bricks. We’ve decided to call it Blue Brick Cottage once it’s finished.’
‘Do yer reckon it will be done fer when the baby comes?’ Phoebe asked as she folded a pile of clean clothes.
‘Oh no, I don’t think there’s any chance o’ that, but I reckon we could be in fer next summer. Meantime we’re managin’ perfectly well where we are. How is your Joey now, by the way?’
‘Eeh, that ointment the doctor prescribed fer his back ’as worked wonders,’ Phoebe told her. ‘It’s cleared all the infections up, but the little soul will be scarred fer life, thanks to that cruel, wicked bugger.’ She tossed her head in the direction of the main house and both Martha and Grace knew that she was referring to the Master.
Grace’s face clouded. She still avoided Master Fenton whenever she could, and Bertie hated the man with a vengeance. Deliberately turning the conversation to happier things, she asked, ‘How is Hal gettin’ on at the mill?’
Phoebe’s eyes twinkled. ‘He loves it an’ says everythin’ is runnin’ like clockwork again since the young Master took over. Seems his ribbon factory is doin’ well an’ all. He heard that the ribbons they’re turnin’ out now are so fine that some of ’em are bein’ transported to Paris to trim the ladies’ bonnets.’
Phoebe glanced towards Martha, who was busily sweeping the ashes from the hearth, and winking at Grace she commented, ‘An’ you seem chipper an’ all, miss, since young Jimmy called to see the Mistress the other day.’
Martha blushed becomingly. ‘She’s given Jimmy an’ me permission to walk out together,’ she admitted. ‘But he were so embarrassed. He were red as a beetroot. Miss Melody asked him if his intentions were honourable and he were so tonguetied all he could do was nod.’ She chuckled at the memory. ‘Then she told ’im that she expected ’im to behave wi’ propriety. But when he’d left she called me back into the parlour an’ told me that she thought Jimmy was a lovely, well-mannered young man an’ gave me her permission to court him, so we won’t ’ave to meet in secret any more fer fear of upsettin’ the Master.’
Her face became solemn again now at mention of him. They all acknowledged that things had improved tenfold since the arrival of the young Master and Mistress, but he was still there, like a dark shadow in the background.
3 December
There is great excitement here in the lead up to Christmas. The decorators have been in yet again and the whole of the ground floor, along with all the bedrooms on the first floor, have been totally transformed. Huge wagonloads of brand new furniture have been delivered and everywhere looks wonderful . . .
‘Oh, I shall never get these menus sorted out,’ Melody sighed as she chewed on the end of the pencil. Leonard dropped a kiss on the top of her head as he passed the small desk where she was seated.
‘I’m sure you will,’ he assured her affectionately. ‘I just hope that this party isn’t going to prove to be too much for you. I don’t want you overdoing it so close to your confinement. I wonder if we shouldn’t perhaps have waited and had the party once the baby was born?’
‘But I want it to go ahead,’ she answered firmly. ‘And I shall be quite all right. I’m so looking forward to Mama and Papa arriving, and I know all the staff are looking forward to meeting them too.’
Lord and Lady Longman, her parents, were due to arrive along with the other fifteen guests who had been invited on the day before Christmas Eve, and as Granny Reid reckoned that there had never been a Lord and Lady staying at Stonebridge before, the staff were all greatly excited at the prospect.
‘Well, if you’re quite sure that it isn’t going to overtax you, then so be it,’ Leonard agreed. He could never deny his wife anything and adored the very ground she walked on.
Now her face became mischievous as she giggled, ‘Beside, I know Uncle is totally set against the idea of a party so I can’t cancel it now.’
‘Oh, you wicked woman,’ he scolded. ‘I sometimes think you take pleasure in tormenting him.’
‘Well, you must admit, darling, he is very full of himself, not that he has cause to be, from what we have seen of it. If you hadn’t stepped in when you did, I have no doubt he would have lost everything.’
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Leonard nodded in silent agreement and lifting his copy of The Times he then became absorbed in the news whilst Melody battled with the Christmas Day menu. He had sent for yet more of their servants from their Herefordshire home to help with the party, so Melody would only have to supervise. He actually found her attitude towards his uncle quite amusing at times. Master Fenton’s lack of enthusiasm about the changes she was making to the house only made her tease him shamelessly, and for the majority of the time now he had taken to staying away from the place, only returning late at night to sleep. It was a fact that seemed to suit everyone very well.
Jess laid the book aside and stared about the room, and in her mind’s eye she saw the house as it might have looked then. She could imagine the buzz of excitement as maids in their starched white aprons and mobcaps rushed here and there preparing for the guests, and the delicious smells that would have been issuing from the kitchen. For all she knew, this might be the very room that had been allocated to Lord and Lady Longman for the duration of their stay. Her eyes lingered on the wooden dado rails and the ornate plaster cornices that she’d had lovingly restored to their former glory. She was tempted to read on but her eyes were heavy now as the strain of the long day caught up with her. Normally she would not have been able to sleep soundly until she knew that Simon was home safe and sound. But tonight she was in no mood for his tantrums, so she turned off the light, snuggled beneath the duvet and in minutes was sleeping like a baby.
Chapter Twenty
Simon had already left for work the next morning when Jess woke up. She knew he had been home because his work clothes were gone from the back of the chair and the clothes he had gone out in the night before were tossed in an untidy heap on the floor. The smell of bacon wafted up the stairs to her so after pulling her dressing-gown on she hurried down to the kitchen where she found Mel standing at the stove and Jo sitting at the table in her High School Musical pyjamas with her hair looking like a bird’s nest.
‘Mel is cooking me some breakfast, Mum,’ Jo chirped brightly. ‘Do you want her to do you some too?’
‘I think I might manage a bacon sandwich.’ It was a rare occasion when Mel bothered to cook anything and Jess wondered if she was trying to get back in her good books. Seating herself at the table she bent to tickle Alfie under the chin as she asked, ‘Did either of you see your dad this morning before he left for work?’
‘I didn’t,’ Jo told her as Mel flipped some rather overdone bacon onto her plate.
Mel didn’t say anything but merely shook her head.
‘Aw well, I dare say he’s old and ugly enough to have gotten himself something to eat if he was hungry.’
Jo giggled as she tucked into her food and Jess poured herself a cup of tea from the pot on the table. It looked and tasted rather stewed but she didn’t comment. If Mel was trying then she would too.
‘Me and Alfie are going to call for Beth this morning and go for a walk along the river,’ Jo told her later through a mouthful of toast and marmalade. Jess smiled indulgently as crumbs sprayed everywhere. Like most young people, Jo had very strange eating habits. Toast, marmalade and bacon were delicious but not eaten together as Jo was doing now. Still, she seemed to be enjoying it, so Jess wisely said nothing. She didn’t bother to ask Mel what she had planned for the day, guessing that she wouldn’t get an answer. In actual fact she had every intention of trying to talk to her today once Jo was safely out of the way. She just might be feeling a little more amenable now that she’d had a chance to think about what she’d almost done and what the consequences might have been.
Once Jo had cleared her plate she drained a large glass of milk then, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she set off towards the stairs door to get dressed as if she hadn’t got a moment to live. And now at last she was alone with Mel, Jess seized the opportunity and asked quietly, ‘And how are you feeling today?’
‘I’m all right.’ Mel fiddled with the handle of her mug.
‘And are you prepared to tell me what’s going on now?’ Jess kept her voice deceptively light, praying that her daughter would confide in her.
When no answer was immediately forthcoming she pulled her handbag towards her and reached inside for her cigarettes. As her hand fumbled for them her fingers brushed against the card that Emile had given her in Paris and she withdrew them as if they had been scalded.
‘Do you even begin to realise how serious it was, what you were going to do, Mel?’
Again only silence, so pushing her hair from her face Jess tried again. ‘It was Emile who asked you to bring the drugs into the country for him, wasn’t it? That’s why you went off downstairs on your own the night before we left on the pretence of visiting the gift shop, wasn’t it? So that he could hand them over.’
‘NO!’ Mel’s head shot up and Jess saw colour burn into her cheeks.
‘I’m not a fool, Mel. We scarcely spoke to anyone else but him the whole time we were there, so who else could it have been?’
‘Look – just leave it can’t you? You’re always on at me! It’s done now – and I’m sorry.’ With that, the girl ran from the room as Jess lit up and puffed furiously on her cigarette. I handled that well, she thought wryly. But somehow she would get to the bottom of this mess. She was determined to, one way or another.
Jo appeared seconds later dressed for the outdoors with a big grin on her face, and Jess couldn’t help but notice the difference between Jo and her sister. Nothing ever upset Jo for long whereas very little ever seemed to please Mel.
‘Me and Alfie are going to call for Beth now,’ she told her mother as Alfie sloped out of his basket to join her.
‘That’s fine, but be very careful. The river will be up with all the rain we’ve had and I don’t want you falling in. You’d have no chance of getting out with that current,’ Jess cautioned her. She felt as if she’d had quite enough dramas in her life over the last couple of days and didn’t want to be faced with another one.
‘We’ll be careful,’ Jo promised as she barged out of the back door with Alfie close behind her. Jess then flipped through a book of wallpaper samples to see if there was anything that caught her eye for the small lounge, but she discovered very quickly that she wasn’t really concentrating, so she slammed the book shut and went upstairs to get dressed.
After a quick shower she decided to start sorting out the attic. When they had first moved in, Simon had expressed a wish to use the big room up there as his office, but he’d had neither the time nor the inclination recently to tackle it. Well, it certainly ain’t going to sort itself, Jess told herself as she flipped on the overhead light in the gloomy room. And perhaps if I make a start it will put me in his good books again.
Hands on hips she gazed about at the masses of old packing cases and furniture, wondering where to start, and it was then that the overpowering smell of roses reached her. Instead of being afraid as she had been in the past, she smiled. Martha was close by, she could sense it. But why had she stayed here? Laura was insistent that Martha was worried about something to do with her.
‘I know you’re here,’ she whispered to the empty room. ‘And I wish I could talk to you.’ She knew that Simon would think she had lost the plot if he could hear her, but she didn’t care now. There was a mystery to solve and somehow she was going to solve it. She wandered about, peering at the old-fashioned sideboards and chairs. Some of them were lovely and she decided she would get Simon and his workmen to carry them downstairs so that she could take a closer look at them when he had the time. Some of them might be worth restoring; the rest could go to an antique shop or to the council tip. They were certainly too heavy for her to move on her own, so now she turned her attention to the chests. The last time she had started rooting around up here she had found Martha’s journal and she wondered what she might find this time.
After a few minutes, however, Jess realised that she was still too worked up and worried about what had happened in Paris with Mel to fully concentr
ate on anything. She was still no nearer to knowing what to do about it. Walking towards the attic window she peered out across the rolling lawns just in time to see Jo haring towards the house with her hair flying out behind her and Alfie and Beth following. Frowning, Jess hurried downstairs and arrived in the kitchen at the same time as Jo did. She saw at a glance that the child was breathless and excited about something, and waited while she clutched her side and got her breath back to tell her.
‘There’s some gypsy caravans on our land down by the river,’ Jo gulped eventually, wildly gesticulating in that direction. ‘An’ Dad just got home and saw them and now he’s down there rowing with them.’
‘Oh no.’ Jess groaned. She knew what Simon was like when he lost his temper. ‘Just hold on while I get my coat and my wellies on and I’ll come back there with you.’
In seconds they were all chasing across the lawn again and just as Jo had said, after a couple of minutes the caravans came into sight. She could see Simon wildly flailing his arms about in front of a large red-faced man who looked just as angry as Simon was. They were shouting at each other, and her heart sank. When Simon got into a temper, things could get out of hand, and this situation looked dangerously as if it might end with fists flying.
‘Simon!’
He stopped shouting when he heard her cry out and turned towards her as she ran closer.
‘Right,’ she said breathlessly as she slithered to a halt on the muddy ground at the side of him. ‘What’s the problem here?’
‘What do you mean – what’s the problem?’ He stared at her incredulously. ‘This lot here are the problem.’ He thumbed towards the small gathering of people. ‘They’ve had the downright cheek to bring their caravans onto my land without asking!’
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