Orpha sat in the carriage on their journey home with Simmons who held her tightly as she shivered with cold and shock. Whispering to her, he enjoyed the closeness albeit under such difficult circumstances.
The doctor had given her a tonic to take when she arrived home, saying she needed to rest; the hospital would lay Hortense in the mortuary until such time as she was collected by the undertaker. Edna tucked Orpha into her bed after the tonic was drunk, and left the girl to try to sleep.
Simmons said he would telephone Orpha’s father.
‘Mr Abel, it’s Simmons sir, I’m sorry to have to tell you that your wife is dead. Please accept my condolences.’
After a moment, Simmons replaced the telephone receiver and moved back to the kitchen. ‘Mr Abel and Mr Zachariah will be on the next train home,’ he said to the others. ‘Jago, please take the carriage to collect them from the station.’
The boy nodded and grabbing his cap he walked to the stables to hitch the horse to the carriage once more.
On his arrival home, Abel called everyone, including the staff, into the parlour.
Orpha, unable to rest, had joined them. She looked tired and wan as she related the dreadful demise of Hortense Buchanan. ‘I found her on the floor and Jago and I managed to get her to the hospital. When the doctor asked if she’d seen who had attacked her, she said… she… it was Ashley Rochester!’ Orpha burst into tears and Abel rushed to enfold her in his arms.
Simmons and Jago confirmed the truth of the girl’s words.
‘What I don’t understand is, why?’ Abel asked. ‘Why Hortense?’
Orpha said quietly, ‘I think he wanted to know the reason why mother said we couldn’t marry… mother refused to tell him. I asked her too but she wouldn’t tell me either.’
‘So he attacked and killed her all because she wouldn’t answer his question? Oh my God, Orpha! I’m so glad you didn’t marry him!’ Zachariah moved to hug his half-sister as Abel walked over to the fireplace. Ezzie looked at Edna’s shocked face before putting his arms around Peg who was upset at her sister’s distress.
‘Well, I’m sure it won’t be long before the police have hold of him,’ Abel said as he turned to Jago. ‘You told them where he lived?’ The boy nodded. ‘Good, although I doubt he’ll go back there. We just have to trust to luck they happen upon him.’
Dinner was a sombre affair both upstairs and downstairs as everyone wondered where Ashley Rochester would be spending the night.
*
Abel contacted the funeral director, who tactfully said he would collect Mrs Buchanan from the hospital and lay her in the Chapel of Rest until such time as she could be interred. Abel explained he wanted her laid to rest as soon as possible and was willing to pay handsomely for the swift burial. It was therefore arranged for two days hence.
Orpha wandered around in a daze, unable to concentrate on anything.
‘Father, I need to contact Mr Belcher. I need to get mother’s house sold,’ Orpha said.
‘When you are ready, sweetheart, there’s no rush,’ Abel replied.
‘No, I need to do it now.’ Orpha went straight to the telephone.
Ringing the estate agent, Orpha spoke quietly. ‘Mr Belcher… I need for you to sell the house in Derry Street. I’m afraid my mother has passed away.’ Accepting his condolences, she went on, ‘However, I must ask you to wait a while… my mother was murdered, Mr Belcher, and the police are still treating it as a crime scene. Once their investigation is concluded then you will be free to put it on the market. Thank you for your kindness.’
The police visited the family and told them they had no evidence from the house other than a bloodied tea cloth in the kitchen. They surmised it was the victim’s blood. There was no murder weapon and no one had seen or heard anything untoward in the street. This was hardly surprising as the house was separated from two more by a patch of wasteland on one side. There was another patch on the other side, then half a dozen more houses. All were empty during the daytime when the crime took place.
The funeral was a sombre affair and Peg reluctantly agreed to attend. The staff remained at Buchanan Mansion awaiting the family’s return.
Once ensconced in the parlour, Simmons asked if he could have a word with Orpha. Stepping into the hall, he said, ‘Ma’am, I am sorry for your loss.’ At her nod, he went on, ‘I’m afraid it’s not a good time to ask for leave, but I have an urgent matter to see to that may take a week or so to resolve.’
‘Of course, Simmons, take whatever leave you need, but promise you will come back?’ Orpha tried to force a smile.
‘I will be back as soon as I’m able, ma’am, thank you.’ Simmons watched her re-enter the parlour and he muttered, ‘Wild horses wouldn’t keep me from you for long!’
Chapter 57
Orpha rallied herself in the next few days but she missed seeing Simmons around the place. She wondered where he had gone and what the urgent matter was that he had to attend to.
With the police finished with the house in Derry Street, Mr Belcher had sold it almost immediately. He delicately informed Orpha that the fact that a murder had been committed there clearly held a macabre fascination for some people. Orpha was just glad it no longer belonged to her.
The chocolate business was doing a roaring trade and with Lottie and the girls managing the shops, Orpha found herself at a loose end. The family often found her brooding in the parlour and knew she needed time to recover from the shock of her mother being murdered by the man she once agreed to marry.
Sitting now with tea, Orpha watched the snow fall silently onto the lawns and pathways. Despite the cold, she loved the winter and was suddenly transported back to the days of dragging the cart to market with Peg. She smiled as she allowed her thoughts to recollect her sister’s hatred of the snow, of her constant complaints of being cold and of the snowball fight that had amused the stallholders that day in the market.
*
Simmons searched the ruin of the house in Ettingshall Road and found nothing. Ashley Rochester had not been back there. Taking the train to Birmingham, he studied the notes the stable boys had made when they had followed the energetic Mr Rochester. He certainly had stamina, Simmons had to give him that!
He had visited each of the houses on the list and spoken to all of the women. He had explained why he was looking for their young lover and all of the women were shocked. Each in turn had reported discovering valuable items missing after Ashley had left and none of them had seen him since.
Simmons left them with a warning – do not let the man into the house should he come calling again!
Walking through the streets back towards New Street Station, Simmons remembered something that was said by the first woman he visited. She was very ill and would not be entertaining the delightful Mr Rochester in the future.
Alighting the train in Wolverhampton, Simmons hailed a cabbie and giving an address in Cockshutts Lane, he settled back in the seat. He had an idea, it may be pie in the sky, but it was worth checking out. Arriving at the destination, he asked the reluctant cabbie to wait, he would be just a moment. The cabbie nodded at the promise of a large tip for his trouble but moved the horse further down the street. This was not a building he wished to be in the close proximity of.
Simmons quietly congratulated himself, he had found the elusive Ashley Rochester!
*
Ashley had seen Simmons enter the room and he’d sighed. Lying on his death bed, this was the last person he wished to see. Simmons had smiled as he approached the bed.
‘So this is where you are hiding yourself!’ It was not a question. ‘I was wondering where you had disappeared to, and now I know.’ Simmons grinned.
‘What do you want?’ Ashley croaked. ‘Can’t you see I’m dying?’
‘I can indeed, Ashley, and I thought you might enjoy one last visitor.’ Simmons kept his hands in his trouser pockets lest he lose his reasoning and choke the last of the life out of the man in the bed.
‘W
hy? Why would you visit me?’ Ashley lapsed into a coughing fit.
‘Because,’ Simmons said as he walked closer, ‘I have something to tell you.’
‘What would you have to tell me?’ His breath coming in gasps now, Ashley was not long for this world.
Simmons’ head leaned in close and he whispered in Ashley’s ear then stepped back to see the man’s reaction.
After another bout of coughing Ashley Rochester uttered one word with his dying breath, ‘Nooooo…!’
*
Orpha was delighted at Simmons’ return to the house and although she was desperate to know where he’d been and what he’d been doing, she welcomed him back appropriately and with decorum.
Simmons requested a meeting with the family after dinner as he had some very important news to impart to everyone, including the staff.
All gathered in the parlour eager to hear what Simmons had to say. When everyone was seated Simmons spoke.
‘Firstly I would like to thank you all for granting me this meeting as protocol would not normally allow for such a thing. Now I would like to apologise for deceiving everyone into thinking I am a butler.’
Waiting for the shocked muttering to abate, Simmons went on. ‘I am in fact, Sergeant Jack Simmons of the Birmingham Constabulary and I was placed here on a covert operation.’
Again mutterings ran round the room. Holding up his hand for silence, he continued. ‘I must make a special apology to you, Orpha, for having to keep up this charade.’ Orpha dipped her head and he noted she knew what was meant by his words. Nodding back to her, he returned his attention back to the family. ‘We have been on Mr Rochester’s trail for some years now. We knew he was thieving from wealthy women but could find no proof against him. The women would not come forth with a complaint as they were afraid of the scandal. They had enjoyed him as a lover and simply claimed on insurance for their ‘lost’ belongings. Now, this past week I have discovered that Mr Rochester passed away in the Borough Hospital for Infectious Diseases.’
He did not have to explain further as he watched faces scowl and wince before him.
There was a melee of gasps as everyone came to terms with what Simmons had told them. Ashley had paid the ultimate price for his philandering.
Sergeant Jack Simmons knew the family were aware Ashley had killed Hortense Buchanan; whether by accident or design no one would ever know now. He didn’t feel the need to relate the information he had gleaned from Mrs Buchanan… that the late Mr Ashley Rochester was her long-lost son and he had, in fact, murdered his own mother!
*
‘I will have to return to my station in Birmingham now my covert mission is complete,’ Simmons said to Orpha as they strolled in the garden later.
‘I understand,’ she replied, ‘but I will miss you. Oh Simmons, I can’t believe everything that has happened!’
‘It will take some getting used to for you I’m sure,’ he said.
Orpha nodded and he saw crystal tears sparkling in her emerald green eyes. Desperately wanting to hold her, it took all his strength not to do so.
‘You will have to hire a new butler now too, I’m afraid.’ Simmons tried to lighten the mood but it only served to upset Orpha more. He watched the tears finally escape her lashes and roll down her lovely face. ‘Now you know the truth of it there is no reason we cannot…’ Simmons let the sentence hang in mid-air.
‘Do you mean…?’ Orpha asked.
Seeing her dazzling smile, he was undone. Wrapping her in his arms, he said quietly, ‘I have loved you from the first time I saw you, and will continue to do so until my dying day.’
‘Oh Simmons…’ Orpha’s words were lost as his lips closed gently on hers.
Looking into her eyes once more, he whispered, ‘Orpha, in time would you consent to changing your name to Mrs Orpha Simmons?’
‘Yes! Oh yes!’ she breathed.
As they kissed again, Peg’s words sounded in her mind. Do you love him so much that you can’t live without him?
This time she knew the answer was yes.
We hope you enjoyed this book!
Lindsey Hutchinson’s next book is coming in summer 2018
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LINDSEY HUTCHINSON lives in Shropshire with her husband and dog and loves to read and has recently discovered photography. She is the daughter of million copy bestselling author Meg Hutchinson.
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Lindsey.
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Addictive Fiction
First published in the UK in 2017 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd
Copyright © Lindsey Hutchinson, 2017
The moral right of Lindsey Hutchinson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
9 7 5 3 1 2 4 6 8
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN (E) 9781786692535
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Table of Contents
Welcome Page
About The Lost Sisters
Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
About Lindsey Hutchinson
The Lost Sisters: A gritty saga about friendships, family and finding a place to call home Page 35