‘Young Jimmy’s downstairs again. Won’t yer just come an’ have a quick word wi’ him? The poor lad is worried sick,’ Phoebe told Martha, who was sitting at the side of her granny’s bed gripping her frail hand. She had scarcely moved from there since the night of the incident.
‘No – I don’t want to see him,’ Martha said flatly, never once taking her eyes from her granny’s face. The doctor had gravely informed them that the old woman was slipping away. It was only a matter of time now.
Martha was still dressed in the same clothes she had been wearing when the Master raped her, and she had neither eaten nor drunk since that night. Now she looked almost as ill as the old woman did. Sighing heavily, Phoebe bunched her skirts into her hand and quietly left the room.
Alone with her own thoughts, Martha’s mind raced. How could she ever face Jimmy again? She felt used and dirty, and knew that she would never feel clean again. It would be as well if she cancelled the wedding.
Her eyes strayed back to her beloved granny’s face and the tears began to rain down her cheeks. Granny’s every breath was laboured now and her passing would be almost a blessing. Martha could only pray that when it came, it would be peaceful.
20 February
I am all alone in the world now. Granny passed away during the night . . .
‘Aw lass, I’m so sorry,’ Phoebe murmured as Martha pulled the sheet across her granny’s face. Strangely enough, a lot of the pain had gone from the old lady’s face now, and Martha could see that she was finally at peace.
‘Come on, it’s time you got something inside you. I’ll come back and lay her out later.’ Phoebe gently took Martha’s elbow and led her towards the stairs, and it was as they were descending them that Martha asked, ‘What time is Bertie in front of the magistrates?’
‘Any time now,’ Phoebe answered with a glance towards the clock. ‘But don’t fret. Hal is there an’ he’ll be back to tell us what’s gone on. At least the Master ain’t died.’ She then helped Martha to wash and change her clothes, brushing her hair for her and watching over her as she ate her soup and a small slice of apple pie.
It was almost two hours later when Hal did arrive home and they knew instantly by the stoop of his shoulders that he was not bringing good news.
‘He got eight years’ hard labour fer assault,’ he informed them as he sank down wearily onto a chair at the side of the table.
Martha’s hand flew to her mouth. Eight years’ hard labour. Poor Bertie, and all because he had tried to help her. Martha was truly alone now, apart from Jimmy, and she now knew what she must do in that direction.
That evening, when a tap came on the kitchen door, Phoebe answered it to find Jimmy standing there again.
She had no need to say anything, for Martha instantly rose from her place by the fire, picked up her shawl and joined Jimmy in the courtyard.
As soon as they were alone, he grabbed her hand and shook it up and down, his face full of distress. ‘Aw lass,’ he gabbled. ‘Why wouldn’t yer see me afore? I’ve been out o’ me mind wi’ worry about yer.’
Martha looked at him sorrowfully as she slowly extricated her hand from his.
‘I’m sorry about that, Jimmy, but what wi’ Granny an’ everythin’ . . .’
‘It’s all right. I understand, an’ I can’t tell yer how bad I feel about what’s happened. I should have set the weddin’ fer sooner. In fact, I still can. I’ll go an’ see the parson this very night an’ tell him—’
‘There’ll be no weddin’ now,’ Martha interrupted, her voice flat and dull. ‘That’s what I came out here to tell yer.’
‘What do yer mean?’ Jimmy looked shocked.
‘How could I marry any man now?’ Martha looked at him with dead eyes and he saw no trace of the girl he had fallen in love with. ‘I’m soiled goods, Jimmy. Can you understand that? The Master raped me.’
‘Aye, I know he did, but that weren’t your fault,’ he choked. ‘It don’t make no difference to how we feel about each other.’
‘Oh, but it does. I saw what the Master did to Grace an’ the way it affected her an’ Bertie, an’ what if I have the Master’s seed growin’ in me?’
‘Then I’ll take the child an’ bring it up as me own.’
‘No, Jimmy.’ Martha spoke firmly. ‘I’ve made me mind up, an’ there’ll be no swayin’ me. It’s over an’ I’ll thank yer kindly not to call on me again.’
And with that she turned and walked back to the house as Jimmy’s dreams turned to ashes.
5 March
The Master returned from the hospital today and within an hour of being home he ordered me into his study to gloat at dear Bertie’s sentence. He told me that from now on, I shall do as he orders or he will tell Miss Melody that the child she has taken as her own is actually his child . . .
‘What did he say?’ Phoebe asked fearfully when Martha returned to the kitchen.
‘First of all he wanted to gloat about Bertie’s sentence,’ Martha replied remarkably calmly. ‘Secondly, he told me that from now on I will do as he pleases when he pleases, or it will be the worse for me. He also threatened to tell Miss Melody that the baby is his if I don’t comply with his wishes. As he quite rightly pointed out, I have no one to watch out fer me now.’
Phoebe visibly bristled. ‘Yer still have me an’ Hal – we’ll watch out fer yer, lass. An’ we’re as close to family as you’ll get.’
Martha shook her head. ‘I thank you right kindly, Phoebe, but I think enough people have suffered at the Master’s hand now, don’t you? I wouldn’t want you an’ Hal gettin’ into trouble too.’
‘Just what is that supposed to mean?’ Phoebe was finding Martha’s state of mind highly disturbing. The girl hadn’t shed so much as a tear since her gran had passed away, and she seemed to have grown up overnight. Not that this was surprising after what she had been through. This morning Bill Capener, the local coffinmaker, had delivered a plain pine box for her gran to lie in, but even the task of transferring the dear soul into it hadn’t moved Martha. She might have been handling a stranger for all the emotion she had shown. To Pheobe, it was as if she had no feelings left any more. Sighing heavily, she turned her attentions back to the herbs she was grinding in the pestle and mortar.
It was much later that afternoon when Phoebe had lost track of Martha that her feet guided her to the old woman’s bedroom – and there was the girl standing at the side of the open coffin.
‘Ah, I thought I might find you ’ere,’ Phoebe said gently, moving to stand at Martha’s side.
‘You will see that she’s laid to rest properly, won’t yer?’ Martha suddenly asked, and Phoebe frowned.
‘Well, of course I will! But the parson will be ’ere tomorrow night to make the arrangements fer the service, so you’ll be able to tell him yourself what yer want fer her.’
Martha nodded, and then left the room without another word as Phoebe scratched her head in consternation and watched her go.
It was as Martha was serving the Master his dinner that evening that she smiled at him coquettishly and said, ‘I were wonderin’ if yer might like to take a walk along the river wi’ me tomorrow, sir?’
Jake Fenton was so shocked that he almost choked on his mouthful of potato, but then composing himself he looked at her suspiciously.
‘And why would you want to walk with me?’
‘’Cos if I’m to be nice to yer, sir, I’m thinkin’ it would be better if we got to know each other a little better.’
Jake Fenton frowned. Why would he want to be seen walking with a maid? But then . . . she was a comely little piece and it would be nice to have her ‘on tap’, so to speak.
‘We could walk down to the stone bridge,’ Martha went on suggestively. ‘The river is high an’ it’s a pretty sight along there.’
‘Well, I dare say it would do no harm,’ he conceded, and he then sat back to allow Martha to serve him more hare pie. It could be that he hadn’t lost his looks and his way with women, after
all.
Once alone in her room that evening, Martha lay fully dressed with Jimmy’s treasured brooch pinned to her blouse, thinking and making her final plan. There seemed to be no other road left to her now.
6 March
This will be the last entry I will ever make in my diary. Today, I shall walk with the Master to the stone bridge and once there, I intend to kill him. The knife I shall use is already in my apron pocket. It is one of Phoebe’s sharpest and I took it from the kitchen earlier today whilst she wasn’t looking. I shall stab him when we are standing on the bridge and then I shall push him in. The water is high and raging there at the moment, and he will stand no chance of survival in his weakened state. It is the only way I know that will stop him from ever ruining another girl’s life as he has ruined mine and my dear Grace’s. I shall then throw myself into the river. I have nothing and no one left to live for now, so my life will be a small price to pay to know that the world will be rid of this evil, depraved man. I only pray now that I will have the physical strength to carry out my plan, for my one purpose in life now is to have revenge on the Master. Once he is gone, the Tolleys, my dear friends, will then be able to live here in peace. And Jimmy, my dear wonderful Jimmy, will some day soon meet another girl who will make him happy. I know that if I lived, I could never be the same again. I am not the same person I was but am now consumed with hatred and bitterness. It may be that Our Dear Lord will not allow me access to His heavenly kingdom after committing murder and suicide, but I am prepared for my spirit to roam the earth forever if I have cleansed this world of the Master.
Now I have but one last thing to do before going to meet the Master. I must make my curse and it is this: May every male Fenton who mistreats his fellow men and women, from this day forward never know a moment’s peace, and may the wrongdoers with bad blood all die a slow and terrible death.
Martha Reid
Jess gasped as she read Martha’s final words and furiously turned the page, but there was no more. The journal was finished. Surely there must be another journal somewhere that would carry on from this one? She could not bear the thought of Martha meeting such a terrible end, and promised herself that she would look around the attics the very next day.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Two days later, Karen called to take Jess shopping. Jess still didn’t feel strong enough to drive, and welcomed the treat. She had been searching the attics ever since finishing Martha’s journal but as yet had not found another one, which could mean only one thing. Martha must have carried out her threat and perished with the Master. That would account for her clothes still hanging in the wardrobe. But why would her spirit have stayed behind all this time? It was a puzzle, and one to which Jess could find no solution as yet.
‘You’re very quiet today,’ Karen commented as they made their way home after a brief tour of the shops.
Jess was shocked at how quickly she had tired and was longing to get home. She hadn’t slept well for the last couple of nights thinking of Martha, and that, added to the constant bickering between Mel and Simon, was wearing her down.
‘Oh, I’m still just a bit tired.’ Jess tugged her fingers through her hair. ‘I tend to think I can do a lot more than I can, and then I get all frustrated when I have to stop.’
‘It’s early days yet,’ Karen pointed out. She could only guess at how heartbroken Jess must be feeling at losing her baby boy, and up to now had carefully avoided mentioning what had happened, although she knew she would have to address it at some stage. Jess would be living with her loss for ever, and Karen knew that her friend would need a shoulder to cry on in the days and months ahead.
They were almost at the end of the lane now, and as Blue Brick Cottage came into sight, Jess spotted Laura outside.
‘Pull up for a moment, would you?’ she asked and Karen obligingly drew up alongside Laura, who had just put the rubbish bin out for collection.
‘Oh, hello, Jess.’ Laura looked decidedly uncomfortable. ‘Er . . . how are you feeling?’
‘I’m getting there. But I’ve missed you popping in for a cuppa. Is everything all right?’
Laura nodded hastily. ‘Yes, thanks. But I’ve been busy – you know, looking after Beth and whatnot.’
Jess found this a poor excuse. It had never stopped Laura from visiting before, but she tactfully told her, ‘Well, do call in if you get the chance. I’m still a bit housebound at the minute and I’d welcome the company.’ She had the distinct impression that Laura was keen to get away and she was proved to be right when her neighbour shot away towards the back door of the cottage without another word.
‘So what have you done to her then?’ Karen asked in her usual forthright way. ‘It seemed like it was taking her all her time to even speak to you.’
‘It did, didn’t it?’ Jess tried to think what she might have done to upset her neighbour, but could come up with nothing – unless Simon or one of the girls had upset her, that was. She decided she would ask them that evening.
When Karen left an hour later Jess lay down for a while and had a rest before resuming her search of the big attic. She was still there when Simon arrived home mid-afternoon and she jumped when he suddenly appeared in the doorway.
‘What are you doing in here again?’ he questioned. ‘Don’t tell me you’re still looking for another bloody journal?’
When Jess flushed guiltily, his lips tightened. ‘This is getting unhealthy. You’re damn well obsessed, woman! I’m beginning to worry about you – especially with all these so-called accidents you’re having.’
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Jess straightened from the trunk she had been going through. ‘Are you trying to say that I’m going mad?’
He looked at her for a long moment before turning and striding away down stairs as Jess sagged against the wall. He hadn’t uttered a single word but his look had said it all. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she was going mad. After all, when she had first moved in she had laughed at Laura for telling her there was a presence in the house, and now here she was searching for another journal that had belonged to the girl, and even talking to her sometimes. It was a sobering thought, and as she snapped off the light and carefully made her way downstairs, her hands were shaking.
It was the following week when Simon unexpectedly suggested one evening over dinner, ‘Why don’t you get yourself off to see Karen for a while? You should be OK to drive now, and if you don’t get back behind the wheel soon you’re going to lose your confidence.’
Jess paused to look at him. She had to admit that she was sick to death of staring at the same four walls.
‘I suppose you’re right, and it would be nice to get back into some sort of routine,’ she admitted.
‘Can I come with you?’ Jo piped up and Jess grinned.
‘I don’t see why not. But I won’t be late – you’ve got school in the morning. Would you like to come too, Mel?’
Before the girl had time to answer her, Simon scowled. ‘I think it would be best if she stayed behind to catch up on some homework, don’t you? Her last school report was appalling and she needs to pull her socks up good and proper.’
Mel scraped her chair across the tiles as colour suffused her pale cheeks. But she didn’t contradict her dad; she merely ran upstairs.
‘That was a bit harsh, wasn’t it?’ Jess said. ‘You could try praise and encouragement instead of barking at the poor kid all the time. No wonder she hasn’t got a good word to say to you.’
‘Spare the rod and spoil the child,’ Simon snapped back. ‘The trouble with you is you’re too soft on the pair of them. It wouldn’t hurt Jo to stay behind and do some homework too.’
Realising that this was in danger of turning into a flaming row, Jess took a deep breath before saying, ‘I suppose your dad is right, Jo. It wouldn’t hurt you to do a bit of homework too. And it’s not as if I’m going to be gone for long.’
Jo’s face fell a foot but she didn’t argue. She simply called Alfie to heel
and disappeared off into the lounge with him.
‘Happy now, are you?’ Jess said caustically, and before Simon could reply she turned and went to get changed before she said something she might regret. A few hours away from Simon seemed like a very good idea indeed.
Once in the car, Jess broke out in a cold sweat. Simon had been right about one thing. It was hard to drive again after such a long time. Even so she turned the key in the ignition and cautiously reversed before steering the car onto the drive, testing the brakes every few seconds. Her heart was in her throat but she forced herself to go on, afraid that if she gave up now she might never have the nerve to get behind the wheel again.
The journey to Karen’s seemed endless but at last she arrived. Her friend was pleased to see her and instantly made her a nice cup of hot sweet tea. But somehow Jess could not rest or relax. Every instinct she had was screaming to her that something wasn’t right, and the familiar whispers were loud in her ear. Within minutes of being there she picked up the car keys and told Karen apologetically, ‘I’m sorry, love. But I have to go.’
‘Bloody hell, you’ve only just got here,’ Karen objected. ‘You haven’t even finished your drink yet!’
‘I know and I’m sorry. But really I can’t stay. I’ll call you in the week.’ Before Karen’s bemused eyes Jess found her coat and seconds later was back in the car and heading towards home.
All the nervousness she had felt earlier in the evening about driving had fled now and she just wanted to be home. Pressing her foot down hard on the accelerator she went as fast as she dared as the feeling of foreboding that had settled on her grew worse by the second. The streetlights flashed past, and by the time she turned into the drive leading to Stonebridge House her heart was pounding. The river was high and raging, even as far as over the road in places, and Jess had to temporarily slow down as the car ploughed through it, throwing up a spray of icy water. The first thing she saw when she screeched to a halt was the back door banging open in the wind and she almost fell out of the car, leaving that door to flap open too as she sped into the kitchen.
Whispers Page 35