She looked innocently towards him. “People like to be touched there. I was trying to make you happy,” she chirped.
“Estelle, don’t ever, ever do that again. Not to me and not to anyone else. That is a wicked, disgusting thing to do. Who told you such a thing?”
“Father Comer,” she responded.
“Father Comer?” Andy echoed. He was the new vicar assigned to the Winthrop-on-Hart church, who also conducted Sunday services in the Winthrop Manor chapel. Andy was in complete shock.
“Yes,” Estelle answered. “We meet here regularly. A friend told me all about the difference between boys and girls, and she said that everybody likes being touched. I tried it with Father Comer, and he loved it. Now he lets me do that whenever we’re alone.”
“Oh, my dear God in heaven! A man of the cloth, no less. Estelle, I’m ashamed of you. I’m equally ashamed of the vicar. I hope you realize that I am going to have to tell Mummy.”
“Oh, Andy, don’t do that. You’ll only get me into trouble–and the vicar too. He told me it was very wrong, but he said he couldn’t help himself.”
“My dear. He can help himself. He obviously has little self-control, and on top of that, he’s taking advantage of you.”
“Well… I think maybe I’m taking advantage of him,” Estelle said with a giggle and the immoral look that only she was occasionally able to get in her eyes. “My friend says I seduced him.”
“What in the world is the matter with you, Estelle? These are the sorts of things your mother, Elisabeth, and Tom have told me about you, but I’ve always stood up for you. I couldn’t imagine a young lady your age even having such thoughts, but you’ve just proven what they’ve told me is true. That’s apparently the reason Tom and Elisabeth took Susan and moved back to Cloverdale. You frighten me, Estelle. Come with me this minute. First, we’re going to have a talk with Mum. Then, we are going to have a conversation with Vicar Comer.”
He grabbed Estelle’s hand and literally dragged her down the center aisle of the chapel and out of the massive, double doors. By then, Estelle was screaming at the top of her lungs and holding her legs rigid, so Andy had to pull her with all his might. Finally, he simply picked her up and carried her the remaining distance to the manor. They entered the front doors. Andy prayed his mother would be in the great hall, but she was not. He called her name, and she answered from the area above the stairway, in the gallery which overlooked the hall. Andy continued to carry the unruly Estelle up the stairway, until he was standing in front of Josephine. She looked appalled when she saw Estelle thrown over Andy’s shoulder, kicking and screaming.
“What in God’s name is going on here?” she shouted.
“I apologise, Mother, but this is the only way I could make certain I was able to bring her to you. I’ve just made a disgusting find.”
“Oh, Lord. What now?” Josephine asked.
“I was kneeling, saying a prayer in the chapel. Estelle asked to accompany me. Of course, I had no difficulty with such a request. However, as I knelt, she knelt beside me, reached over and placed her hand on—well, on my crotch. I absolutely could not believe it.”
“Estelle. What in the world? Where would you even dream up such a filthy idea?” her mother asked.
“There’s nothing the matter with it,” answered Estelle. “My friend taught it to me. She told me it feels good.” Her face contorted into the malicious sneer that Josephine and the others had become used to. “Father Comer likes it,” she added.
“Estelle! Are you saying that you and the vicar are…” Josephine couldn’t bring herself to say another word?
“Well, to be honest, we do quite a bit of cuddling. It feels very good.”
Josephine couldn’t help herself. She drew her hand back and slapped Estelle across the face. “So, you are the one who initiates this behaviour, Estelle. It’s shocking that a vicar would use his power to do such a thing, but men are very vulnerable. I have a suspicion you know that.”
“Umm. I guess I do,” she grinned. “I watched Uncle Tom and Aunt Elisabeth one time while I was standing behind the cupboard in their room. I asked the vicar if we could do that, but he said we would need to wait a bit until I’m older. So, we do a lot of touching and cuddling. He kept repeating that it was very wrong and a sin against God, but he didn’t stop me.”
Andy stood beside his mother with a look of pure horror on his face. “I now believe everything you’ve told me about Estelle, Mother. Something has to be done. To begin with, Father Comer will have to go.”
“I do think he deserves the presumption of innocence, Andy, given Estelle’s history of dishonesty. I agree completely however, that if what she says is true, he will have to be sent from his post at Winthrop-on-Hart,” answered Josephine. “But that isn’t the only change that’s going to take place. Estelle is going to be sent to an extremely strict school. Perhaps a place like that can put some values into her sinful mind. God knows we’ve all tried, to no avail. I know of a school in Kent, and I intend to contact them immediately.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea, Mum,” Andy answered.
Estelle began to scream at the top of her lungs. “You are not going to send me to some stupid school. I shall refuse to go. I’ll tell the authorities that Andy took off my knickers and—took advantage of me!” she finished.
“Oh, you horrid, little creature!” shouted Andy. “You’ll do no such thing.”
At precisely that moment, Elisabeth appeared in the same area accompanied by Susan. “What in the world is going on here?” she enquired. “I can hear your voices all the way to my bedchamber.”
* * *
Andy, Josephine, and Estelle stood staring at one another. Finally, Estelle spoke with a truly malevolent gleam in her eye. “I know that Oliver is my father, and I know that you killed him. I also know about Radcliffe and Uncle Tom burying him in the back of our grounds here at Winthrop Manor. I hid behind a door one time and overheard you talking to Aunt Elisabeth. I’m going to tell the men from Scotland Yard everything I know. You will all go to prison for murder!” Estelle screamed.
Josephine’s face turned white. “Estelle, since you think you know so much, perhaps you are also aware that Oliver raped me and that you are the product of that rape,” Josephine said between clenched teeth. They were words she had never meant to speak, and the guilt was overwhelming. However, the situation had become totally untenable.
Estelle ran at Josephine with her head lowered. She rammed her body straight into her mother’s abdomen, knocking her backwards. Estelle jumped on top of her mother and began to pummel her with fists which seemed stronger than they should for her age.
Josephine rolled out of the way, but Estelle jumped on her mother again, continuing to strike her. Suddenly, Josephine reached the top of the stairway and began to tumble rapidly, followed by Estelle who could find nothing to break the fall. The two bodies toppled head over heels down the lengthy, winding staircase.
When they reached the marble floor in the Great Hall, there was a sickening thud. There was no sign of movement from either mother or daughter. Andy ran to the telephone and called for the local ambulance. He knelt beside his mother, feeling for a heartbeat. There was definitely quite a sound pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief, and prayed that help would soon arrive.
At the same time, Elisabeth ran to Estelle. She also found a pulsation, but the child was whimpering. It was clear that she was in pain.
A siren sounded in the distance. The ambulance had arrived. Josephine drifted in and out of consciousness. In a moment of lucidity, she glanced over at her daughter’s form, which lay not far from her own. She did appear to be breathing, but her body was sprawled at an odd angle. Had Estelle’s neck or back been damaged?
In a matter of minutes, two ambulance attendants reached them. One rushed to Josephine’s side and took her pulse. “Are you able to speak?” he asked.
“Yes. It hurts to breathe, though.” She pointed to the area above her abdomen.
He examined her and said that he suspected she had broken some ribs. She also told him she had a violent headache. He said they would transport her to hospital, and would attempt to discover if she had suffered a concussion.
The other attendant examined Estelle. She was now completely silent. “Where do you hurt?” He didn’t know if she would or could answer.
“I cannot feel my legs. My back is totally numb. So are my arms.”
“Can you tell me what happened here?” asked the man tending Josephine.
Suddenly, Estelle found her voice, and it was quite strong. “Yes! My mother pushed me down the stairs, and she fell too, after trying to grab hold of the banister.”
“Why would your mother have done that?” he asked.
“Because she tried to break up an argument between my brother and me.”
“What was the argument about?”
“A long time ago, I overheard my mother and my aunt saying that my real father was my uncle Oliver. He was my mum’s husband’s brother. Mum was having an affaire with him. When my other uncle, Dr. Tom Drew, found out the truth, he killed my father. Our butler, Radcliffe and Uncle Tom, buried my father in the woods. All of them should be in prison. My mother, my uncle, and our butler. Also, Mum discovered that I’m in love with the local vicar, Father Comer, and that he loves me too. She was furious. That’s why she pushed me down the stairs.”
Each adult looked astounded. A grow man—a vicar-interested in a seven-year-old! It was unthinkable. On top of that there had been signs that Hope Reed and the Vicar were attracted toward each other.
Josephine overheard this entire conversation. It was beyond belief. The worst part of the entire tale was that Scotland Yard would undoubtedly search the property looking for Oliver's body. Fear caused her to tremble uncontrollably. She was absolutely certain, of course, that Scotland Yard was not about to believe a vicar would be interested in a seven-year-old.
“We’ll report these findings to Scotland Yard, but at this moment it’s our job to transport the two of you to hospital,” said the gentleman who was treating Estelle. Josephine and her daughter were lifted onto gurneys and carried out to the waiting ambulances.
Before they departed, Andy stood on the steps of Winthrop Manor and held up a hand. It was quite obvious that this was not a life and death matter and he was not about to let his out-of-control sister get away with the lies she had told. Tom, Elisabeth, Radcliffe and Mrs. Shellady were also present. They’d all overheard the lies Estelle had told.
“Gentlemen, I know you are in a rush. Nevertheless, I want it clearly understood that what you have just heard from my younger sister is a pack of lies. There is a modicum of truth, but the accident that took place in the last half hour did not happen the way you were told. My mother did not push my sister down the stairway. When you speak to Scotland Yard, please make certain that they are aware that I am a witness to the entire scene and can tell them precisely what occurred. I am the Earl of Winthrop. I would hope my word would carry more weight than that of a mere child with a wretched history of lying.
Chapter Fourteen
Josephine and Estelle were hospitalised. As the ambulance attendants had suspected, Josephine had suffered a concussion although it was not severe. She also had several broken ribs that were taped tightly.
Estelle had a much more serious injury, but it wasn’t life threatening. The worst was spinal trauma. Her back was not broken, nor her neck as Josephine had feared. However, she had suffered a ruptured disc that would require surgery as well as months of recuperation. Josephine was so intensely infuriated at Estelle’s lies about the accident and her recitation of erroneous facts surrounding Oliver’s death, that she scarcely cared what her daughter’s condition was.
Just as Josephine feared, the local constable appeared in her room at hospital shortly after she was settled. She’d had no opportunity to speak with Radcliffe, Tom, Elisabeth, Andy, or Roderick–which placed her in an awkward position. Had they been able to compare stories it would have been far easier to undergo questioning by the police. She thought the situation through and made a firm decision to tell the truth. It was the only thing to do. She had lived long enough to learn that when one told a lie, it only created more difficulty. The constable was accompanied by another man who introduced himself as the Chief Inspector for Winthrop-on-Hart.
“Lady Josephine, we’re sorry to disturb you so quickly after your accident. However, we received information from the ambulance attendants that’s rather upsetting. It does require investigation.”
“I understand,” Josephine replied. “I was present when my daughter told her outrageous lies. I heard everything she said. I’m more than happy to set the record straight.”
Both men introduced themselves. “I am Chief Inspector Ian Stephens,” the older of the two stated. “This is my right-hand man, Constable Earnest Parker. We need to ask you some questions.”
“Yes, of course,” Josephine murmured. “Please continue.”
* * *
The chief inspector began. “You indicate that you overheard what your daughter said. Is her name Estelle?”
“Indeed, I did,” Josephine answered. “Yes, her name is Estelle.”
“You also say that they are lies. Can you please elaborate?”
“I’ll be happy to. You see, my late husband, the Earl of Winthrop, was killed in an auto accident in London at the end of April, nineteen-twenty-five. He had a brother, whose name was Oliver. Oliver had been serving time in Wandsworth Prison for kidnapping our son while my husband was serving in the British Expeditionary Forces. Rather than go into all of those details, I’m sure your office has all of the records pertaining to that particular crime. Anyway, Oliver was granted compassionate leave from prison to attend my husband’s funeral. I wasn’t told of this and was shocked when I saw him at the reception following the services. The reception was held at our home, Winthrop Manor.”
Josephine rearranged herself in the hospital bed, as her ribs were hurting. Then, she continued. “I was appalled when I saw him there. He was a despicable human being. To be honest, I was somewhat concerned that he would find a way to escape, thereby not returning to prison. However, he assured me that he’d been escorted to the funeral by a detective from Scotland Yard. Be that as it may, he did manage to elude the detective, steal a car from our garages, and disappear. Scotland Yard believed he was headed for London, where he could board a train to any number of ports, and escape to either America. Canada, or Australia. They assured me I had nothing to be concerned about.” Josephine coughed and took a sip of water.
“Unfortunately, they were mistaken. Oliver appeared in my room that night after the lights were turned down. Without going into too much detail, it should suffice to say that he had a knife in his hand and proceeded to sexually assault me. Of course, I was in shock. In the melee that ensued, during the rape, I managed to get my hands on the knife. When he rolled off my body, I stabbed him in the back several times, as well as his side and his groin. I killed him. Not only that, gentlemen, I would do so again.”
The men looked exceedingly uncomfortable. “Is what your daughter said true? Did you become pregnant with her as a result of this alleged assault?”
Josephine’s face tuned beet red. “I am offended by your use of the word ‘alleged.’ What I suffered at his hands was the worst experience of my life. He deserved everything he got.”
“We apologise, your Ladyship, but until the facts of a case are proven, we must use correct terminology,” replied the chief inspector.
“Yes, well the correct terminology would be rape, gentlemen. Rape. I am the proof. So is Estelle. Do you understand what rape is?”
“Yes, certainly. It’s just that Estelle states that she overheard you speaking to your sister-in-law, Mrs. Drew, about having had an affair with Mr Oliver.”
“My daughter is a pathological liar. She inherited the trait from her disgusting father. While it sounds abysmally harsh, I wish she had never been born
. She has brought nothing but heartache from the moment she entered this world. Interrogate the staff at Winthrop Manor. You’ll not find one person who doesn’t tell you what I’ve just recounted about Estelle.”
“We definitely intend do so, madam. Can you explain why his murder wasn’t reported to the authorities?”
“Yes, it was at my request. My husband loved Winthrop Manor. It has been in the family for generations. It meant more to him almost more than anything else in his life— besides me and our son, Andrew. I was not about to put a stain on the reputation of that splendid home. Members of the aristocracy can be mean, spiteful people. Had they heard that a murder had taken place at Winthrop Manor, within a week all of England would have been buzzing with the news. I’d just lost my husband. I was not going to allow such a thing to happen. The newspaper men would have flooded our property. I had been through quite enough. It was an easy decision to make. My brother-in-law, Dr. Tom Drew—who is married to my late husband’s sister, Elisabeth—and our butler, Radcliffe, felt it should be reported to the authorities. I overruled them. I asked Radcliffe and Tom to bury Oliver’s body on our property, and bless their hearts, they complied.”
“Are you able to tell us precisely who and how many people were on the premises the night of the…assault?”
“Let me see.” Josephine counted on her fingers. “Of course, I was present; along with the Winthrop Manor staff headed by Radcliffe, our long-time butler; Mrs. Shellady, the housekeeper; Mrs. Boyle, the cook; and myriad other serving people, footmen, under-cooks, parlour maids, and the like. Emma, my lady’s maid, was also on the premises. In addition, there was our retired cook, Vera Whitaker, who is now suffering from dementia, and Winnie Lawrence, the companion who was hired to care for her. Then, in terms of family members, there was my son, Andrew; my brother- and sister-in-law, Dr. Tom and Elisabeth Drew. We had invited Father Sebastian Comer, the local vicar, who had performed the services for my beloved husband, to stay for an overnight visit, so he was in a guest suite. I believe all were at Winthrop Manor on that ghastly day and night.”
War Comes Home to Winthrop Manor: An English Family Saga (Winthrop Manor Series Book 2) Page 13