by Sandy Taylor
Lottie mouthed the words to me as if I was deaf. ‘What is she wearing?’
‘A blue dress.’
The crowd seemed to have got even bigger and they were singing at the tops of their voices. Men were grabbing girls and swinging them around. Lottie and I were getting pushed in all directions.
‘We can come back later and look for her, how’s that?’ Lottie shouted, taking my arm. ‘I’m sure she’s having a wonderful time.’
We crossed the road and walked the short distance to the big white house.
‘This is it,’ said Lottie.
‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’ve been here before.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, and I got all stupid about it.’
‘Why?’
‘I didn’t know why someone who lived in such a posh house would want to be my friend.’
‘You daft girl! And anyway, it’s not that posh; the top floor is running with damp. We actually live in a hovel,’ she said, grinning.
I didn’t believe that for one minute – this house was beautiful.
‘Anyway, Nell, shame on you for thinking that! I would have thought you’d got to know me a bit better.’
‘It was just a silly thing and Miss Timony put me right – in fact, she made me feel a bit ashamed.’
‘Good for Miss Timony, whoever she is.’
I followed her up the steps to the front door. She caught hold of my hand and pulled me along the hallway.
‘Mum, look who I found,’ she shouted.
A woman walked towards us. ‘And who has my excitable daughter found?’ she said, smiling at me.
‘It’s Nell, Mum. I found Nell, right here in Brighton, almost outside the front door.’
Lottie’s mum came towards me. ‘Oh, Nell,’ she said. ‘How delighted I am to meet you at last.’
‘Do you mind if we go up to my room?’ asked Lottie. ‘We have rather a lot of catching up to do.’
‘Of course you have,’ she said. Then she reached out and held both my hands in hers. ‘I am so glad that you are safe and well, my dear, so very glad. My daughter was agitated the whole time we were in Cornwall, wondering if you were all right, and you are. What a joyous occasion!’
Lottie’s mum was lovely, like a model, and she was sweet and kind and she spoke beautifully, just like Lottie. She was exactly how I had imagined her to be.
We ran upstairs to the bedroom, which was just how Lottie had described it to me. Beyond the big bay window was the sea and it really did feel as if you were standing at the front of a ship. I could almost feel the wind blowing through my hair. I took a big breath.
‘It’s beautiful,’ I said.
‘It is pretty amazing, isn’t it?’ agreed Lottie, standing beside me. ‘Anyway, enough about the view. You’re all grown up.’
‘We’re both all grown up.’
Lottie pulled me down on the bed. ‘I want to know everything, every single thing. How on earth did you end up here, for a start? Tell me, tell me!’
‘I don’t know where to start.’
‘I’ve always found that the beginning is a rather useful place.’
‘The farm was awful.’
‘It sounded awful.’
‘So we ran away.’
‘You ran away?’
I nodded.
‘You just decided to run away? Just like that? How did you manage? Where did you sleep?’
‘In barns mostly, once in a derelict house, once in a madwoman’s house.’
‘Oh my God, Nell! Couldn’t you have just told the welfare lady how ghastly it was and got her to move you?’
‘The welfare lady never came back to check on us, which didn't exactly surprise me considering she couldn't wait to be shot of us in the first place. Anyway, I wouldn’t have known where to find her, so we just ran. I know it was a pretty daft thing to do but I wasn’t thinking straight. I just wanted to get away from that place, it wasn’t safe to stay there.’
‘Did someone hurt you? Was it that bloody awful Albert?’
‘Something like that.’
‘But why Brighton?’
‘Eastbourne, actually. We made it back to Bermondsey but when we got there, Rannly Court had been bombed and my family were missing.’
‘Oh my God, Nell! I’m so sorry.’
‘We didn’t know what to do or where to go. Mrs Baxter, an old neighbour, was leaving London to live with her sister in Eastbourne and she said we could go with her.’
‘Good old Mrs Baxter.’
‘I have a job, Lottie. I’m working in a hotel on the seafront and loving it.’
‘And what about dear little Olive?’
‘She’s happy at her new school and she’s found a special friend called Henry.’
‘And your family? Did you find them, are they okay?’
‘That’s the best bit. They are all safe – even my dad – and they are living very happily in Hove.’
‘What an adventure you’ve had! I almost envy you. I was completely safe in the depths of Cornwall and bored out of my skull. I missed Glengaryth and I missed you, and believe me when I say there is absolutely nothing to do there, and the whole place smells of fish. Coupled with the fact that I had to share a bed with a rather obese girl, who smelled of cheese.’ Lottie shuddered. ‘Absolutely bloody ghastly!’
We lay back on the bed and held hands.
I giggled. ‘Oh, it’s so good to see you again, Lottie. You haven’t changed a bit.’
‘You too, and the timing couldn’t be better, because I don’t think I would have wanted to go back on my own. Now we can go together.’
‘Go where?’
‘To Glengaryth, of course.’
I let go of Lottie’s hand and sat up.
Lottie was still chatting away. ‘We can borrow Mum’s car. I learned to drive while I was in Cornwall – there was sod all else to do there.’
I didn’t answer her.
‘What’s wrong, Nell?’
I stood up and walked across to the window. ‘I can’t go back there.’
Lottie walked over to me. ‘Because of your work?’
‘It’s not that,’ I said quietly.
‘Then what?’
I had kept it to myself for so long that I didn’t know how to say the words.
‘Whatever it is, Nell, you can trust me. It can’t be that bad. It’s not as if you’ve killed someone, is it?’
‘But that’s just it, Lottie, I have killed someone. I hit Albert on the back of the head with a shovel and I killed him.’
‘No, you didn’t.’
‘I wish that was true, but I did. He was interfering with Olive, I wasn’t thinking straight and I killed him – that’s why we had to run away.’
Lottie grabbed my shoulders. ‘Listen to me, Nell, you might have hit him but you didn’t kill him.’
I stared at my friend. ‘You weren’t there, you don’t know what happened.’
‘How long ago was it?’
I tried to clear my head. ‘It must be two years, maybe a bit less, I’m not exactly sure. What has that got to do with anything?’
‘Because the ghastly Albert Hacker only died six months ago.’
‘But that’s not possible.’
‘Well, it’s true. Apparently he was cleaning a tractor, the handbrake slipped and the thing rolled over him. You might have given him a bad headache, Nell, but you certainly didn’t kill him. It was an accident.’
I wanted to believe her, I really did, but I’d seen the blood and I knew he was dead. ‘How do you know all this?’ I asked.
‘Mum and I drove to Wales before we came back here. I hadn’t heard from you for so long, I just knew something was wrong. We found the gruesome farm – which has been sold, by the way – and we asked at a nearby cottage for any news of you. That’s how we learned what had happened.’
I suppose I still didn’t look convinced – I just couldn’t take in what she was saying.
‘What can I say to convince you it’s t
rue?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Look at me, Nell, why would I lie about something like this?’
‘You wouldn’t.’
‘Exactly. Now repeat after me: Nell Patterson did not kill the utterly ghastly Albert bloody Hacker, even though she had every right to.’
I put my hands over my face. Lottie was telling me the truth, of course she was: I hadn’t killed Albert. It was then that the weight I had carried around like an unwanted overcoat fell from my shoulders. Tears were pouring down my face.
‘That’s it,’ said Lottie. ‘You have a good old cry. According to my mum it’s very therapeutic, as long as you don’t indulge in it.’
And then I was laughing, with my head thrown back and my mouth open. I was laughing like a madwoman but I didn’t care: I wasn’t a murderer after all. I caught hold of Lottie’s hands and swung her around the room, laughing and crying, then we collapsed onto the bed and she held me in her arms until I calmed down.
‘So we can go to Glengaryth?’ she said.
I smiled. Glengaryth, that’s where I’ve left a little piece of my heart, that’s where I’ve left a young boy called Jimmy. I thought that I could never go back but now I could. Jimmy might be long gone – in fact, if Mrs Hacker had sold the farm there would be no reason for him to stay there – but maybe the locket was still there, buried under the oak tree. I might not ever see Jimmy again, but I might find the locket.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Let’s go back to Glengaryth.’
‘Fabulous,’ she said, jumping off the bed, ‘but first I think we’d better find your friend.’
‘Oh God, I’d forgotten all about her!’
‘Some friend you are,’ said Lottie.
I stuck my tongue out and we ran downstairs.
Chapter Forty-Six
I thought I’d been happy all this time but I hadn’t, not really. It was always there, the guilt and the fear. Every time I saw a policeman I felt sick to my stomach because I thought they’d caught up with me and that I was going to go to prison. I hadn’t exactly lied to the people who cared about me, I just hadn’t let them into that dark place that I carried inside me, the place that I visited in my sleep. I had only let them in so far. Now it was different, I felt different: that’s how I knew I hadn’t been truly happy.
The first person I told was Olive. I met her from school and we walked up to the Downs. I took a blanket and some sandwiches Mrs Wright had made.
‘Olive’s going to love this, Nell, and don’t forget to take Auntie Missus with you; she’ll only make you come back for her if you don’t.’
‘A picnic?’ said Olive, jumping up and down. ‘Can Henry come?’
‘Not today, love, this is just for me and you.’
‘Okay, Nell,’ said Olive, as she always did when I said no to something.
We walked over the fields to the cliffs and I spread the blanket on the ground. Olive sat Auntie Missus beside her. It was a beautiful afternoon and the sea sparkled below us under the bright sun.
‘Now, what I’m about to say is very important, Olive, so I want you to really listen.’
‘Shall I hold my ears, Nell? Because that’s what our teacher makes us do.’
‘I don’t think there’s any need to do that, Olive.’
‘Okay,’ she said, biting into a paste sandwich.
‘You remember when I bashed Albert over the head with a shovel?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Well, it turns out that I didn’t kill him after all.’
‘Yes, you did, Nell, he was a deader all right.’
‘No, I didn’t, I only thought I had.’
‘Did he come alive again then?’
‘He wasn’t dead, Olive.’
‘So he’s still alive then?’
‘No, Olive, he’s dead.’
Olive looked totally confused and who could blame her? ‘Are you feeling all right, Nell?’ she said.
I grinned. ‘I’m not explaining this very well, am I?’
‘Not really.’
‘When I hit Albert I thought I’d killed him because he didn’t move but it turns out all I did was knock him out.’
‘You didn’t hit him hard enough, Nell,’ said Olive, looking suspiciously down at her sandwich. ‘What paste is this?’
‘It’s sardine. You’re not listening to what I’m saying, Olive, this is important.’
‘It’s just that I thought it was chicken but now I know that it’s sardine it makes sense and I am listening.’
‘Okay, what I’m saying is that Albert did die but not then, not there in the barn – he died much later. He was cleaning out that rusty old tractor and it rolled over him.’
‘It’s not many people who die twice, is it? This sandwich still tastes of chicken.’
‘For heaven’s sake, Olive!’
‘Sorry, Nell. So does that mean we didn’t have to go on the run?’
‘After what he tried to do to you, I think we would still have run away, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I think we would… Nell?’
‘Yes, love?’
‘I’m glad it was the rusty old tractor that killed him and not you.’
‘I feel the same way,’ I said. ‘Because I don’t think I meant to kill him, I just wanted him to stop what he was doing to you.’
‘Well, he’s stopped now all right, hasn’t he? He’s stopped breathing and walking and eating and clipping Jimmy round the head. He’s just bloody stopped and good job an all! Can I have another sandwich?’
‘Of course you can. You do understand now, don’t you, Olive?’
‘Yep. You bashed Albert over the head with a shovel and he died and then he came alive again and the tractor rolled over him and he died again. Someone up there must have wanted him dead pretty badly, Nell.’
I laughed. ‘I guess they did.’
The next person I told was Mrs Baxter, because she had had to keep the secret as well.
‘That’s wonderful news,’ she said. ‘I’d be lying if I said I’m sorry he’s dead, Nell, but I’m glad that you don’t have to feel scared anymore.’
‘Thank you for keeping the secret, Mrs Baxter, and thank you for looking after us.’
‘You and little Olive are lovely girls. If Mr Baxter and I had been blessed with children of our own I would have wanted them to be just like you two. And I know that Mr Baxter, God rest his soul, would have felt the same.’
I hugged her. ‘You’ll always be our second mum.’
Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Now you’ve set me off, and not a child in the house washed, as my dear mother used to say.’
* * *
Yann and I had continued to write to each other and I now wrote to let him know that I hadn’t killed Albert after all and that I was coming to Glengaryth and would be visiting him.
I decided not to tell my family about Albert; it would only cause them pain to know what we had been through and anyway, it didn’t matter anymore. If Olive came out with it one day I’d deal with it then.
But I did tell them all that I was going back to Glengaryth with Lottie.
‘Can I come with you, Nell?’ asked Olive. ‘Aggie might still be at the sweetshop.’
‘The war is over now, Olive, Aggie will be back home with her parents.’
Olive looked disappointed. ‘But she might be there, Nell.’
‘Look, love, I’m only going for a couple of days, so why don’t you write that letter to her while I’m gone and then we can post it together when I come back?’
‘Okay, I’ll write to her.’
‘Good girl.’
‘You will come back, won’t you, Nell?’
‘Of course I will. I wouldn’t leave you, would I?’
‘No, Nell, you love me too much. But I’ll miss you.’
‘Why don’t you stay with Mum and Dad while I’m away?’
‘I’ll see what Henry says, Nell.’
‘You do that,’ I said, smiling at her.
When I thought I’d killed Albert I couldn’t wait to get away from Wales. All the lovely memories I’d had were tainted by what I thought I’d done. Now I couldn’t wait to go back to Glengaryth. I was longing to see Auntie Beth and Uncle Dylan and the new baby.
A week before we were due to go, an official-looking letter arrived in the post. It was addressed to me. If I hadn’t found out about Albert’s accident I would have been terrified.
‘Who would be writing to me here?’ I said to Mrs Baxter. ‘No one knows where we are.’
Mrs Baxter looked at the letter. ‘Well, it’s been posted in Cardiff.’
‘Maybe it’s from Auntie Beth and Uncle Dylan,’ I said.
‘Well, the only way to find out is to open it, pet.’
I sat down at the kitchen table, took the letter out of the envelope and started to read. Then I put my head in my hands and sobbed.
‘What on earth has happened?’ said Mrs Baxter, sitting down beside me.
‘My friend Yann has died,’ I sobbed, handing her the letter.
She put her arm around my shoulder. ‘Oh, Nell, I’m so sorry, love.’
‘He was so good to us, Mrs Baxter.’
‘Was he very old?’
‘I think maybe he was – his hair was white but it was hard to tell his age and it wasn’t something we talked about.’
‘Do you want me to read what it says?’
I nodded.
She took the letter from me. ‘It’s from a firm of solicitors in Cardiff – Martyn, Hughes and Radcliff.’
‘Solicitors? Why would solicitors be writing to me?’
‘I think we’re about to find out,’ she said.
She read the letter slowly, running her finger under each line, then looked up at me. ‘Well I never!’ she said.
‘What? What does it say?’
‘He’s left you his house, Nell. Your friend, Yann Kovak, has left his house to you and Olive.’
Mrs Baxter handed me the letter. ‘Read it for yourself.’
I unfolded it and started to read.
Dear Miss Patterson,
I am sorry to inform you that Mr Yann Kovak passed away peacefully in his sleep on Thursday, 10 May.
Mr Kovak came to see me a month ago. He knew that he was dying and he asked me to act on his behalf. He wants his house, known as Elena Cottage, to be left to you and your sister Olive. He also asked me to tell you and your sister that his beloved dog, Henri, will be living with his friend and neighbour Mr Percy Wakefield at Woodland View, should Olive wish to pay him a visit.