Stratford Jewel

by Oliver, Marina

  There was nowhere for the other driver to escape, apart from dragging his pony into the hedge. Jack seemed at the last moment to appreciate the danger and hauled on the reins. There was a narrow verge, but far too little room to pass. As the waggon tilted, the near wheels bouncing wildly on the rough ground of the overgrown grass verge, the offside front corner of the waggon smashed into the cart. The lighter vehicle collapsed, and its driver was thrown onto the road.

  Rosa, helpless, watched the destruction, then heard an unearthly scream. For a moment she thought it was Jack, but he was hanging on grimly to the slanting driving seat. Mustard had fallen and was lying tangled up in the shafts, his ponderous body crushing the hedge. In trembling haste Rosa dismounted and managed to tie her shivering mare to a branch, then she climbed across the waggon to reach the fallen horse.

  'The poor brute must have stepped into the ditch,' a deep voice said behind her, and Rosa swung round. It was the driver of the trap, picking himself up from where he'd fallen and gingerly feeling for broken bones.

  'Are you hurt? Oh, poor Mustard!' Rosa exclaimed as the horse screamed again. It was a prolonged wail of agony, and Rosa wanted more than anything else to stop her ears, for it all to have been a dream.

  'I'm just bruised, but that poor devil's leg's broken if I'm not mistaken. What the hell was that madman thinking of?'

  Rosa had reached Mustard's head, and she tried to soothe the great animal. His flanks were sticky with dried flecks of foam, his eyes were rolling, the whites showing, and as Rosa stroked him she could feel the tenseness in the muscles.

  'He stepped in the ditch, his leg's broken,' the other man said again. He'd clambered round to feel Mustard's foreleg, and Rosa saw a splint of bone protruding. 'I'll go and get a gun. They'll have one at the farm.'

  Rosa bent her head to hide her tears. Then a wave of fury swept over her and she twisted round to look at Jack, but he had vanished. She couldn't leave the horse, for her presence seemed to comfort him, but Rosa called out several times. There was no reply, and then she heard voices.

  'Come away, Miss. We'll put the poor beggar out of his misery.'

  Gentle hands lifted her and led her away. She pulled to a stop and turned just as a shot sounded, and saw Mustard's head jerk, then lie still. With a sob Rosa ran back and knelt beside the animal and it was there Adam found her.

  'What's happened? Are you all right?' he exclaimed, leaping out of his car and striding across.

  'I don't know. Jack isn't here. Someone went to get a gun.'

  Silent tears streamed down her face. Adam knelt beside her and put his arm round her shoulders. She leaned against him, sobs shaking her.

  'Is Jack hurt?'

  'I don't know, and I don't care,' Rosa said vehemently. 'He caused this, driving like a madman. He had no thought for anyone he might injure, and he's killed Mustard. If he were here I'd shoot him as well.'

  'Let's get you home,' Adam said gently.

  'Moonbeam. I rode here. And the man whose cart was wrecked. I must speak to him. And what about – how will we – Mustard!' she finished on a sob.

  'Go home, Miss. I'll stable your mare till you can come for her, then get a tractor, clear the road,' the man who'd brought the gun said gruffly.

  'Thank you. And you – ?' she asked, turning to the driver of the trap. 'It was my brother driving. He must pay for the cart. Can I talk to you tomorrow?'

  He nodded, gave her his address, and finally Rosa permitted Adam to lead her to his car. He reversed into the farm gateway, and drove back to find another route into Stratford.

  By the time they reached home Rosa was in control of herself again, though silently, bitterly angry with Jack.

  Max was sitting in the kitchen with Winnie when they arrived. Winnie started up in alarm, but Rosa shrugged off her anxious queries and sank into the chair by the range.

  'Has Jack come home?' she asked wearily.

  'No, no sign of him. What's happened?'

  'Let me pull your boots off,' Max said and knelt down in front of her. Adam started to speak, then pursed his lips, turning away to stare out into the yard.

  'Poor Mustard had to be shot. Jack killed him.'

  'Oh, Rosa, my poor pet!' Winnie gasped. 'How did that happen?'

  'Let her be,' Max said sharply. 'Where's the brandy?'

  After sipping some of this Rosa took a deep breath and smiled waveringly at Max. 'Thank you. Jack was in such an odd mood. He was talking a lot of nonsense, and then he drove out so recklessly I followed him. My dress is ruined,' she added, glancing down at her skirts which were torn and smeared with mud. 'Like Bessie's last night.'

  'Bessie?' Adam demanded, but Max shook his head.

  'Not now,' he said softly. 'Winnie, can you help Rosa to bed? Who is your doctor? I'll go and fetch him. She's had a bad shock and needs sedation.'

  'I don't need a doctor, but I'd like to go to bed. I'm incredibly tired, and it isn't lunchtime yet. Is it?'

  *

  Adam was waiting in the parlour, Winnie fussing around him, when Jack walked in at almost ten in the evening.

  'What the devil are you doing here?' he demanded brusquely.

  Adam raised his eyebrows. 'I think it's more to the point to know where you've been. Did you know Mustard had to be shot after your criminal carelessness?'

  'Mustard? What about salt and pepper? I asked why you were here. You came to steal this house too, did you?'

  Adam glanced at Winnie, who was standing with her hands over her mouth, staring at Jack in mingled fear and astonishment.

  'What's he talking about?' she whispered.

  Jack turned on her angrily. 'Your place is in the kitchen. Get out. You too,' he added, swinging round to Adam. 'I'm going to bed.'

  He turned and left them, slamming the door hard behind him. They stared after him in bewilderment.

  'Is he often like this?' Adam asked quietly, but Winnie had collapsed onto a chair and was sobbing quietly.

  'My baby. My poor baby,' she kept repeating, rocking to and fro. The door opened again and Rosa, in a woollen dressing gown, came quietly in. Adam stepped swiftly towards her.

  'I heard Jack,' she said, her voice flat. 'He doesn't mean it, Winnie. Don't cry. It's time you were in bed.'

  It took some persuasion but Winnie was eventually sent off to bed, and Rosa sat opposite Adam.

  'Are you better now?' he asked.

  'Yes, much, although I can't understand Jack. Thank you for bringing me home,' she added.

  'I'll not leave you alone in the house with Jack in this mood,' Adam said firmly.

  Rosa smiled wanly at him. 'There's no need to worry. He wouldn't hurt me,' she said, but her hand strayed to the abrasion on her cheek where the tip of Jack's whip had caught her.

  'He's not himself. You can't know what he'll do. I'm staying.'

  Rosa shrugged. 'If you insist. The bed in the spare room's ready. You can sleep there. I came down for some food. I'm hungry, though I feel I shouldn't be after so much emotion. Have you had any dinner?'

  'Winnie fed me. She didn't want to wake you, but she put something in the oven to keep warm.'

  'It will be dried up by now, but if I don't have it she'll be annoyed.'

  She fetched the food, and ate most of it while Adam sat silently beside her. When she'd finished and put the plate aside she turned to Adam. 'Adam, you must know the Bloors. What are they like?'

  'He's a good tenant, pays his rent on time even though farming's in such a bad way since the war.'

  'And his family?'

  'Why are you interested?'

  'Please, Adam, tell me.'

  After a pause he complied. 'His wife died some years back, and his son's working on a farm in Oxfordshire. There isn't enough profit to keep both of them. His daughter got married today, as it happens, to one of my stable lads. I was at the wedding before I decided to come and visit you.'

  'What's she like? Has she a good reputation?'

  'I've heard nothing against her. Why?
Have you?'

  'I just wondered. You wouldn't say she's – well, flighty?'

  'Not at all, unless she hides it from me. She's run her father's house for some years, since she left school, and she takes the littlest children for Sunday school. Rosa, what's the problem? I thought she looked distraught at the wedding, but put it down to nerves. Do you know something?'

  Rosa sighed. 'Her father brought her here last night. They were accusing Jack of trying to rape her.'

  'Jack? But that's preposterous. Even if he were interested in girls, and since he came back from the army I don't think he's taken any girl out, despite the lures some of your and Celia's friends have held out, I can't see a simple farm girl like Bessie Bloor making him lose his head.'

  'That's what I thought, but when he came back yesterday he rushed off without seeing to poor Mustard, and spoke so wildly when he came in. He didn't try to deny it, and was even threatening to have Mr Bloor turned out of his farm.'

  'But the farm's mine.'

  'And his wildness this morning was so unlike him. He's usually so good with the horses, even if he did buy that dreadful specimen. He's not cruel.' Her voice broke, but she took a deep breath. 'Adam, I've been lying there all day trying to think what's the matter. Some of the men who came back from the war suffered dreadfully with their nerves. Jack did, but it just seemed as though he wanted to be alone. Do you think this can be to do with shell-shock?'

  'I'm not sure it's just a convenient excuse.'

  'That may have been so when some men pretended, afraid to go back to the trenches, but it doesn't apply now. Maybe Jack is ill, and it's all too much for him. First Celia, then Father, and the business isn't doing well. It could have made him worse.'

  Adam shook his head. 'It's more than I can understand,' he confessed with a slight laugh. 'Rosa, you're exhausted, go to bed and sleep. In the morning perhaps Jack can explain. There's no point in asking questions we can't find answers for.'

  'No. But I promised Bessie a wedding present, to prevent more trouble. Will you take it to them, please?'

  *

  Rosa, unable to sleep until the small hours, woke late. As she went down to the kitchen she heard Jack whistling in the yard. Winnie glanced at her and shrugged.

  'He's cheerful this morning.'

  'What has he said?'

  'Nothing, and I wasn't about to ask for explanations,' Winnie said briskly. 'Here, eat some nice thick rashers and a couple of eggs. You need your strength.'

  Rosa frowned. What would she need her strength for today, she wondered. Then she heard Jack shouting for Sid and sighed.

  'Where's Mustard?' Jack was asking. Rosa and Winnie looked at one another in alarm.

  'Has he forgotten?' Winnie gasped.

  'He can't have. I'd better go and rescue poor Sid. He won't know what to say.'

  With a sigh Winnie put the plate back on the hob. 'Mind you come back and eat your breakfast.'

  Rosa nodded, and went outside. Jack was standing in the entrance to the stables, and over his shoulder Sid cast Rosa a glance of relief.

  'Mustard had an accident yesterday,' Rosa said carefully. 'He fell and broke his leg. He had to be put down.'

  'What? Who was driving? How could he have fallen? There wasn't ice on the roads.'

  'He was driven onto the verge to pass a pony and trap. He stepped in the ditch. The waggon was ruined too.'

  Jack frowned, and Rosa knew he simply did not remember. Had he hit his head, perhaps, and then wandered away, forgetting the accident and what had gone before.

  'You look tired and ill,' she said. 'Since we don't have your waggon why don't you spend the day in bed? I'll try and hire another one and find a new horse for tomorrow.'

  To her surprise Jack nodded slowly and returned to the house. Sid gaped after him wonderingly.

  'Don't 'e remember?' he asked, incredulous.

  'It appears not. Sid, be very careful what you say to him. Pretend whatever he says is right, until I've had a chance to talk with the doctor. And do you know anywhere we might get another waggon and a horse?'

  'There's a dray for sale out Henley way,' Sid said after a moment's thought. 'Gelding too, I think. Mr Watson's buyin' a motor van.'

  'How did you hear about it?'

  'Me brother works that way.'

  'It's a bright day. I'll ride over and see it,' Rosa decided. 'Get Moonbeam ready – oh, she was left at the farm.'

  She turned away to hide the tears, and saw Max leaning against the wall watching her. A welcoming smile lit up her face and she started eagerly towards him. 'Max! Oh, it's good to see you.'

  'If you want to go visiting, let me drive you,' he suggested.

  'I don't want to bother you,' she began to say, but Max shook his head and interrupted.

  'No bother, it'd be a pleasure. And maybe you shouldn't ride out on your own after all the excitement yesterday, even if you had a mount.'

  Rosa nodded. She would be happier to have company. 'Do you know waggons and horses?' she asked. 'You can advise me and help me bargain. I've heard Mr Watson's a hard man to beat down.'

  'Mr Max, come in and have some breakfast. You're not going without it, Miss Rosa, even in a nice warm car,' Winnie said firmly and Rosa, who was by now hungry, did not object. Max seemed to appreciate Winnie's cooking too, even though he confessed later to Rosa that he'd already had a substantial breakfast at his hotel.

  'It's not the same as real home cooking, though.'

  On the journey to Henley Rosa discussed Jack's peculiar behaviour. 'Do you think it could be shell-shock?' she asked.

  'It could be, from what you say, but it's odd for the pattern of behaviour to change like this, I'd say.'

  'Could it have been sparked off by another shock? He's been moody ever since he came back from the war but it was only after my father's death that he began to behave so bizarrely.'

  'It's possible. But he seems worse. What does the doctor say?'

  'I don't think he's been consulted. But Jack might have knocked his head yesterday. I hardly spoke to the other driver, he went for help, and by the time he came back Jack had vanished. Then there wasn't time to talk.'

  'You should persuade Jack to see a doctor.'

  'I don't know what to do. Oh, Max, I'm so glad you're here!'

  'I need to go back to New York as soon as the competition short list is announced, and go home for Thanksgiving. My mother's fretting that I haven't seen her in a while. But I shall be back before Christmas, there's still a lot of work with the cinemas.'

  'Come and spend Christmas Day with us,' Rosa said impulsively, then blushed. She hadn't meant to be so forward.

  Max grinned. 'Really? I'd love to sample a real English Christmas. We've heard such a lot about Yule logs and mummers and wassailing,' he said enthusiastically.

  'That's from Charles Dickens,' Rosa warned, but had to admit that they did have a Christmas tree, and holly and ivy, and the carol singers came round. 'Though it will be different without Father,' she added quietly.

  *

  Mrs Higham gave a sigh of relief when Max walked in through the door.

  'I thought you weren't coming, again,' she said before she even turned up her face for his kiss.

  'The train was delayed. I'm sorry it's been so long, but we've been very busy since Abe died,' he said gently.

  'Well, you're here now. I hope you're going to have a good long rest, you deserve a vacation.'

  'I have just a couple of days, then I go back to England.'

  'So soon? Jenny will be disappointed,' she said, but there was an odd tone in her voice. 'It's high time your engagement was announced. We can have a wedding next spring.'

  'I have to be in England several more months.'

  For a moment his mother looked nonplussed. 'But your design wasn't even shortlisted. Such a pity. Why do you have to go back?'

  'There are picture houses to supervise, I'll be there until June at least.'

  Mrs Higham gave a determined smile. 'In that case we
'll have a wedding at Christmas. You can delay your return, and take Jenny for a honeymoon in Europe. After lunch you can visit with Jenny.'

  Having spent half an hour in general talk about his visits to England and their own contributions to the Theatre rebuilding appeals, Mr and Mrs Wishart suggested that Jenny might like to walk in the garden with Max. Jenny was jittery, almost too nervous to talk, and kept casting apprehensive glances at him from under lowered eyelashes.

  'Tell me about the plays,' he said at last, when she made no attempt to speak.

  'I played Juliet, and Dale was Romeo. We did the whole play,' she said abruptly, but Max was puzzled to see a smile quivering on her lips, at variance with her tone. A sudden suspicion hit him.

  'Dale was Romeo?' he asked as casually as he could. 'Is he the young boy who was in the excerpts when I was here before?'

  She laughed. 'He's not a boy, he's twenty. Don't you think he's utterly perfect?' she demanded. 'I mean, for the part,' she added, blushing painfully. 'His profile, I mean, it's so handsome, just like Richard Barthelmess. Do you remember him in Way Down East? That wonderful frozen river scene.'

  Max understood now. Jenny must have shown her partiality for the lad, his mother was worried, and she, poor kid, was frightened and unhappy, but prepared to abide by her family's wishes and marry him. Her desire not to have their engagement announced must have been a forlorn hope that some way out might be found. He took her hands in his and gently turned her to face him. He couldn't miss the panic in her eyes before she dropped her gaze. 'Jenny, I want the truth, or I can't help you. Do you love him?'

  'I like Dale, very much,' she whispered, 'but Papa says I have to marry you.'

  'Is he suitable? If I weren't available, would your family accept him? And does Dale want to marry you?'

  'They have a big farm, and he's the only son. He did ask my father, because he didn't know about you, that was a secret, but Papa told him no.'

  'I could tell your father we've agreed to part, if that's what you want,' Max suggested.