by Bill Kitson
‘And you’ve been blaming yourself ever since?’
‘Of course I have. I know it isn’t logical but I can’t help it.’
‘I’m not sure logic enters into a situation such as that.’
I realized as she said it that Eve was thinking of her own situation as much as mine. ‘I think Harriet may have been fed the same sort of rubbish about you as she was about me,’ I suggested gently. ‘She hinted that there were reasons you might be vulnerable.’
‘Did she suggest that I’m an emotional cripple perhaps? That I’m hopeless with men? That I’m no stranger to a police cell? That I’m a dab hand with a carving knife?’
‘Something of that nature,’ I agreed. ‘But then, I already knew you to be a woman capable of extreme violence. After all, I have such a wide experience of women, and you’re the first to regard a punch in the face as an essential part of foreplay.’
I was lucky; my absurd remark stemmed the rising tide of anger I could sense growing within Eve. She giggled. ‘Did it hurt a lot?’ she asked.
‘Just a bit,’ I smiled, ‘but I forgive you, we’re friends now, aren’t we? Do you want to talk about what happened to you or is it a forbidden subject?’
‘I don’t go around bragging about it but neither do I run away from it. It’s still painful and I guess it always will be. It happened a long time ago but I’ve never been able to forget for long. I met John when I was doing an MBA in London. He was one of those golden boys, bright, talented, and handsome. He was also, as I found out far too late, a serial womaniser with a drink problem and a propensity for violence. He put me in hospital three times in the year we were together. I left him twice and went back home to my parents but he turned up and made a scene,’ she paused and I could see there were unshed tears in her eyes; but whether they were tears of regret or anger, I couldn’t tell.
‘My father was very ill,’ Eve continued. ‘In fact he was dying from cancer. So I had no choice but to go back with John. It wouldn’t have been fair to Mum or Dad otherwise. Mum was nursing Dad at home, you see.’
‘So you chose to go back in spite of the danger; that was brave of you.’
‘Brave or foolish, I’m not sure which. Anyway, I’d only been out of hospital just over a week and still had my arm in plaster. He’d broken it when he came home pissed and angry one night.’
Eve rolled up her sleeves and displayed large areas of mottled, discoloured skin. ‘He’d found a new game he really enjoyed. The rules were quite simple. You play it by boiling a kettle full of water. After that you hold Eve’s arm over the sink and scald her with the water from the kettle until she screams or passes out. He was good at it too; a real expert. Only this time I cheated. I didn’t scream and I didn’t faint. I picked up the carving knife and stabbed him with it.’
She smiled grimly. ‘Of course I was arrested. I was convicted of attempted murder because he gave evidence that the attack was unprovoked. He could be very convincing when he wanted to. My injuries weren’t mentioned. It was only at the appeal when the doctor and nurses who treated me gave evidence that the conviction was overturned.’ She looked at me challengingly; as if my reaction was important to her.
‘I don’t see you need feel the slightest degree of guilt. As far as I can see the bastard deserved all that was coming to him and more besides; but as you say logic doesn’t come into it.’
Eve was still watching me closely. ‘You’re not scared or repelled by what I’ve told you then? Most people are; but then they seldom get to hear my version. They only hear the gossip together with the embellishments.’
‘More fool them. The only thing that I find repulsive is what that brute did to you, and you certainly don’t scare me; not with the lights on anyway.’
Eve grinned; suddenly she seemed more relaxed than at any time since we’d met. I put that down to the improved relations between her and Harriet, but then I’m no expert where women are concerned.
‘So tell me about your chat with Lady Charlotte, did you find out anything useful?’
‘Yes I did. Or at least Charlotte told me something that might prove very interesting. However, there is a major snag.’ I went on to tell her about the rumoured existence of the family journal. ‘The problem’s going to be in locating it. Charlotte says it hasn’t been seen in at least forty years. She reckons there’s considerable doubt as to whether it is any more real than the other family legends.’
To my surprise, Eve was more inclined to believe in the existence than I’d imagined. ‘I wouldn’t set much store by the fact that none of the family has seen it,’ she told me. ‘None of them are what you’d call voracious readers, with the exception of Becky. Tony restricts himself to the Shooting Times, Field and Stream, and Cricket Monthly. Charlie reads football fanzines, Sammy reads sloppy teen romances, and Harriet reads sloppy adult romances. As for Charlotte, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her with a book in her hand, and to the best of my knowledge Tony’s father had the same reading habits as Tony.’
‘So the library doesn’t get used much?’
‘Hardly.’ Eve’s tone was amused. ‘In fact, Tony wanted to have it converted to a rumpus room for the kids a few years back but Harriet put her foot down. Not because of the priceless books in there; although there are quite a few of those. Harriet was more concerned about the exquisite bookshelves and furniture that Tony wanted to get rid of. She said it would spoil the ambience; whatever that means.’
‘In that case I reckon we ought to have a look round the library first.’
Eve groaned. ‘I think I’ve just talked myself into another job, haven’t I?’
As we were debating the merits of an early start to our treasure hunt in the library Tony ambled in. ‘We’re organizing a sledging expedition, we’re all going up to the old quarry. There’s a good slope there. We thought it might help to take everybody’s mind of what happened to poor Beaumont. Would you care to join us?’
I explained our plans for the afternoon. ‘I think it’s important for me to try and start looking for a solution to the problem you set me. Normally I’d have loved to go along. There’s also Eve’s injured leg to think of. She wouldn’t be able to go and it wouldn’t be much fun for her stuck here alone.’
‘No I suppose not. I’d forgotten about that,’ Tony conceded. He thought for a moment, then added, ‘I don’t suppose you’d want to be bothered by Sammy in the circumstances, would you? The poor girl’s sick as anything at missing out but her throat’s worse, and Harriet’s banned her from going. Thinks the cold air would be bad for her. But of course if you want to be alone, we could leave Sammy watching TV or something.’
I dare not look at Eve; I was trying too hard not to laugh and knew I’d never keep a straight face if I saw her expression. ‘Tony,’ I said eventually, ‘I said Eve and I were going to search the library; nothing else. If Sammy’s bored and on her own, she’d be more than welcome to help. There’s a massive task ahead of us and the more help we get the better. There is one favour you could do for us though.’
‘Of course, what is it?’
‘Loan us your chair.’ I pointed to the one behind the desk. ‘It has castors on, and it would be great for Eve. She can’t go climbing up and down those library steps, so if she and Sammy take the lower shelves I’ll do the upper ones. If she has a chair with castors it’ll help no end.’
‘I’ll get Rathbone to bring it through for you.’ He ambled out.
I looked across the room at Eve; she was struggling with her laughter. ‘I think Tony suspected we’d be having it off in the library,’ she suggested.
‘Damn, another plan foiled,’ I said.
Sammy joined us only seconds after Rathbone had wheeled Eve’s chair in to the library. ‘Hello,’ she whispered in a sort of croak. It was easy to see why Harriet had insisted she remain indoors. She looked flushed and there seemed little doubt she was running a temperature.
‘OK, girls, we’re looking for an old book,’ – I looked at the long
shelves that ran along three walls of the room – ‘and it seems we have a few to choose from.’
Every shelf was crammed with books; the shelves stretched from floor to ceiling. The only breaks were for the door and fireplace. It was a daunting prospect. I didn’t even want to speculate on the total number of volumes in that room. ‘As I see it, we have two problems. One, we don’t know if the book has a title or not, and even if it does the title may bear no resemblance to the contents. Two, we don’t know what size or shape the book we’re searching for is. Therefore, we have to take every book from the shelf, examine it, and put it back. The one we want will be about Mulgrave Castle and the Rowe family. Eve, whereabouts do you want to start?’
‘To be honest I’m not sure I want to start at all,’ she said with mock despair, ‘but if we have to, why don’t Sammy and I take one of the shorter walls each and you concentrate on the long wall. Then when we’ve finished on the lower shelves we can switch places with you.’
We had been at work a couple of hours when Rathbone entered bearing a large tray. In addition to a coffee pot and a mug of hot chocolate, Sammy’s favourite, the tray contained a plate each of sandwiches and chocolate biscuits. ‘With Lady Harriet’s compliments,’ Rathbone announced in pompous tones. He set the tray on the reading table and departed.
‘Leave the last book you examined on its side on the shelf, Sammy,’ Eve suggested, ‘that way you’ll know exactly where to start afterwards.’
Shortly before three o’clock, I decided enough was enough. I moved the last book I’d examined onto its side. It was a weighty seventeenth-century tome on astronomy. I doubted whether it had been opened since the day of its purchase. As I moved it, a smaller, much slimmer volume slipped from the shelf alongside and dropped onto the floor. I muttered a mild oath and climbed down. I picked it up and glanced at the cover. I whistled silently in surprise as I read A History of Mulgrave Castle by Miles Rowe. ‘OK, folks, let’s call it a day,’ I suggested.
My colleagues needed no prompting. Eve swivelled round on her chair. ‘I never realized a library could be such a filthy place,’ she said inspecting her hands. ‘I’m going to need a long hot shower after this. How about you?’
‘I consider that a very generous offer,’ I replied.
I ducked and narrowly avoided being hit by a low-flying copy of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales.
‘What’s that you’ve found?’ Eve pointed to the book in my hand.
I showed her. ‘I think we should have a look at it before dinner,’ I suggested. ‘The rest of the family should be back any time now.’
It was at that point that Tony burst into the library. ‘Adam, we need your help,’ his voice was high with worry bordering on panic. ‘There’s been an accident. It’s Charlie. He’s fallen down the cliff. I think his leg’s broken. We can’t get to him and it’ll be dark soon.’
‘OK,’ I said, ‘Tony, you take me to the spot. Eve, find Marsh. Tell him I want every inch of rope he can find and I want him out there as fast as possible. Tell him to bring every torch he can.’
Tony and I reached the quarry fifteen minutes later. The family was gathered round the cliff face, their expressions ranging from distraught to despondent. Harriet was being comforted by Polly. It seemed they’d been using the gentler slope away from the quarry. I strode past them and looked over the edge. The light was fading rapidly. We were running out of time. Tony pointed and I saw Charlie. He was in a precarious position on a ledge two-thirds of the way down the cliff. ‘Charlie,’ I called out. ‘Can you move?’
‘I’m scared,’ he called back. His voice confirmed that.
‘I’m not bloody surprised. Free fall is usually better with a parachute.’ I tried to keep it light. ‘Try and move your arms. I need to know if they’re OK.’
I waited; then heard, ‘I can move them.’
‘Good lad, do you have any pain in your chest or back?’
‘Everything feels sore,’ he complained.
‘Don’t worry about that, as long as it’s no worse than sore. Can you move your head and neck?’
‘Yes, it’s just my leg. That hurts all the time.’
‘OK, as long as that’s all. Now just lie still for a minute or two then we’ll start work on getting you out of there, OK?’
‘Please.’ The cry was heart-rending.
Marsh came panting up the slope. ‘I’ve got the spare bell rope from the chapel and a length of chain as well.’
I uncoiled the rope and flung one end of it over the cliff. I was relieved to see it reached Charlie, comfortably. I looked round for an anchorage. A sturdy looking oak tree was growing only a dozen or so yards away. ‘Wrap that chain round the tree,’ I told Marsh, ‘and make certain it’s secure. Then tie the rope to it and let me know when you’ve done it.’
‘Charlie, I’ll be down with you in a few minutes then we can get you out of there, don’t worry.’
I signalled to Tony, his cousins and Marsh. ‘When I call out, I want you four to haul the boy up, really gently. You’re working against time – it’ll be pitch black soon. As soon as you get him up here, get him onto a toboggan and take him back to the castle. Don’t wait about for me. Leave Marsh to throw the rope down to me. Got that?’
They nodded. ‘Right, here’s hoping,’ I wound the rope round my waist and under my arm, stuffed the torch Marsh had handed me into my pocket. Harriet was standing close by. I reached out and pulled her scarf from round her neck before I eased myself over the cliff edge. ‘Pay it out slowly, Frank,’ I told Marsh.
I hadn’t abseiled in years, but the skill soon returned and within a couple of minutes I joined Charlie on his ledge. ‘Hi there, Charlie,’ I greeted him. ‘Relax now. We’ll soon have you out of here. I’m going to fashion a harness to go under your arms. All you have to do is hold onto the ropes. Your Dad and the others at the top will haul you up. I’m going to tie your legs together with scarves to try and keep them straight. Try to remain as still as possible. The more you move or swing about the more pain you’ll cause yourself, OK?’
‘Yes, Adam,’ he said through gritted teeth.
‘What exactly happened?’ I asked casually as I began knotting the rope.
He remained silent. I looked across at him and saw his lips were pressed tightly together as if he was in pain. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes,’ he said easily enough. So that wasn’t the problem.
‘You were going to tell me what happened,’ I prompted.
‘I was waiting my turn on the sledge when I saw a peregrine falcon hovering over the quarry. I turned to watch it. I was standing near the edge,’ he paused.
‘What happened, did you slip?’
He looked at me and the anguish in his eyes had little to do with the pain from his leg, ‘No,’ he told me reluctantly, ‘I didn’t slip. Someone pushed me.’
I nearly dropped the rope, so great was my astonishment. ‘Are you absolutely sure about that, Charlie? You didn’t simply tumble and imagine the rest?’
‘No, Adam,’ his voice was steady now. ‘Someone put both hands on my back and pushed me.’
‘Did you see who it was?’
He shook his head. ‘Can you remember who was near you at the time?’
‘Everybody I think, apart from Becky. She’d just set off down the slope on the sledge.’
I needed a moment or two to think about this. ‘Right, I’m going to put this rope over your shoulders and under your arms. Do you think you can sit up if I help you?’ I put the rope in place and tightened the noose. ‘That won’t let you down, so you don’t have to worry about it. Now listen carefully. I don’t want you to say a word about what happened to you. Not even to your Mum and Dad. Whoever did this will be expecting you to say something. If you don’t, they’ll be wondering why. I’ll see you back at the castle later. Don’t forget.’
‘I won’t.’
‘Good lad; now get ready.’ I turned to look upwards and raised my voice. ‘OK, up there: start pulling.’
‘OK, Adam,’ I heard Tony answer.
Slowly, foot by foot, I watched the boy being hauled towards the top of the cliff. The sunshine had long since disappeared and there was a universal greyness to the last remaining light. Charlie’s form disappeared into the gloom and I knew that when it came to my turn I would be climbing in total darkness. I felt something soft brush against my cheek. It had started to snow again.
After what seemed an age I heard Tony’s voice; relief in every syllable. ‘Adam, we’ve got him. He’s safe. We’re going to load him on the toboggan. As soon as we’ve got him on that, Marsh will throw the rope down for you. OK?’
‘That’ll be fine, Tony.’
It was a few minutes later when I heard a swishing sound that told me Marsh had thrown the rope down. A split second later I felt it hit my arm. I grabbed it and slipped the harness over my shoulder. I wanted to be out of the quarry as quickly as possible. I’m a good enough hand at rope-climbing but in the dark with snow falling, I wasn’t relishing the challenge much. ‘OK, Frank, I’m starting to climb now,’ I called out. There was no response from above.
I began my ascent, hand over hand. I’d got no more than twenty feet when I suddenly felt the rope above me go slack. Then I was falling; sheer down the cliff face. I felt a buffet on my leg as I hit the ledge that saved Charlie. It didn’t save me. It was the snow in the foot of the quarry that saved me; that and luck. I didn’t appreciate the luck much at the time.
I hit the snowdrift and the breath exploded from my lungs as I was winded by the impact. Then my head hit something hard and I passed out.
Chapter Ten
I’m not sure how long I was unconscious. Not too long, I reckoned, because I’d not lost any body heat. I tried movement; slowly. My legs first, they felt OK. Then my arms, no problems there either. My chest and back felt sore but no worse than the rest, the shock of the impact and the winding were probably all they’d suffered. It was when I moved my head that the pain hit me. I felt as if I’d a wickedly bad hangover. I rolled cautiously onto all fours and waited for the pain to subside. It didn’t. I got to my feet, moving like an arthritic eighty-year-old. I felt a bit like one too.