Tangled Threads

by Margaret Dickinson

  Josh stopped and turned to look at her. ‘Mr Brinsley? Whatever would he go and see your mother for?’

  So, Eveleen thought, whatever my mother had told Josh on his frequent visits to their house, she had not confided everything. She sighed. ‘It’s a long story, Josh. She knew Mr Brinsley years ago.’

  The big man blinked and he and Fred exchanged a glance. Although Win now knew the whole story, there had been no time to enlighten Fred. ‘Oh,’ Josh said and then, with a kind of understanding, ‘oh, I see.’

  She knew he didn’t. Not really. How could he? But perhaps he guessed at least a little of the truth.

  Looking worried, Fred ran his hands through his hair and Josh mopped at his brow.

  ‘We can’t leave things till morning, lass,’ Josh said. ‘Something’s got to be done. Leave it to me.’

  ‘But—’ Eveleen began to protest, but he was already lumbering towards the stairs.

  ‘Just let me get dressed,’ he said.

  Fred laid a hand on her arm. ‘Leave it, lass. Don’t argue. He’s the man to help you. Just accept it and be grateful.’

  Eveleen bit her lip but said no more. She didn’t mind Josh Carpenter helping, but she certainly did not want the Stokes involved. At this moment, she did not know which ‘he’ Fred meant.

  It was only minutes before they heard Josh’s heavy tread on the stairs again yet the wait had seemed like hours. Josh was wheezing as he came through the door, but he was smiling. ‘Good job for us that Mr Brinsley likes to live in town. If he was the sort of man who wanted a fancy house on the outskirts of town, we’d be the rest of the night getting to his place. Now, Fred, you go and get the pony and trap from the stable at the factory and bring it up to the house.’

  ‘Didn’t we ought to ask first?’ Fred asked.

  Josh dismissed the necessity with a wave of his hand. ‘He’ll say yes, of course he will. But me and Eveleen will go to the house and tell him, just in case . . .’ He did not complete the sentence but added authoritatively, ‘Let’s get going. The sooner we get that pony and trap the sooner we can get after them.’

  While Fred hurried away towards the factory, Eveleen fell into step alongside Josh. He was in charge now and, for once, Eveleen was prepared to leave it to him.

  She did not want to ask favours of the Stokes family, but she had no alternative.

  Fifty-One

  ‘How far do you think they could have got?’

  They were driving through the streets. Richard, sitting on one side with Fred and Eveleen squashed on the seat beside him, held the reins, while Josh sat on the opposite side. The trap was scarcely big enough to hold the four of them, but the pony, despite the weight, was managing a good pace.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Eveleen muttered. She was resentful because Richard had insisted on coming with them. ‘I don’t know what time she left. Her bed looked as if it hadn’t been slept in. If she left soon after I went to bed, they could have been gone five hours.’

  ‘Mm.’ Richard seemed to be calculating. ‘I would estimate that she would walk at about two miles an hour. It wouldn’t be much quicker than that if she was carrying the child.’

  ‘Wouldn’t she stop to rest?’ Josh put in, sounding as if he didn’t think he would be able to walk one mile in an hour.

  ‘Probably,’ Richard said. ‘Would she know the way, Eveleen?’

  ‘I don’t know. When we left home, we went to Flawford and from there, we came here.’

  ‘Might she go back there? To Flawford?’

  ‘No,’ Eveleen snapped. ‘Not in a million years.’

  The three men were silent but not one of them could have failed to notice the bitterness in her tone.

  More calmly Eveleen added, ‘She’ll be trying to get home. Back to Bernby. That’s where she thinks of as home.’

  ‘We’ll take the main road out of the city towards Grantham, so let’s just pray that that’s what your mother has done.’

  Silently, Eveleen began to pray to the kindly, white-robed figure in Heaven.

  It seemed to the anxious girl as if the streets of houses were neverending but at last the buildings thinned out and they were passing through countryside.

  ‘Now,’ Richard said, ‘keep a sharp look-out for any sort of place where she might have taken shelter. This rain’s getting worse.’

  It was driving against them now, stinging their faces, but the pony was trotting on valiantly at Richard’s gentle words of encouragement.

  ‘She’d shelter in a barn,’ Eveleen said and couldn’t resist adding, ‘It’s what she did last time.’

  No one answered her, but squinted through the rain and the darkness, straining to catch sight of the woman and child.

  Ahead of them the sky began to lighten and with the dawn the rain began to ease a little. Richard drew the trap to a halt.

  ‘We must have come ten miles or more. She can’t have got this far, surely?’

  Josh looked anxiously about him. ‘You wouldn’t have thought so.’

  ‘Do you think she might have got a lift with a carrier or on a cart of some sort?’ Fred put in.

  ‘That’s a good point,’ Richard said. ‘What do you think, Eveleen?’

  She shrugged. ‘I doubt it. She doesn’t like asking strangers for help.’

  Richard turned away and muttered something beneath his breath but Eveleen, sitting furthest away from him, did not catch the words. Fred and Josh must have heard for she saw them exchange a look. Then Richard turned. ‘So what do you all suggest we do now? Press on?’

  ‘Yes,’ Eveleen said firmly. ‘But watch out for farmhouses and barns now. Bridie will be hungry . . .’ There was a catch in her voice and tears welled in her eyes. Her anger and resentment against Richard Stokes died. She felt cold and wet and there was a knot of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. She covered her face with her hands and turned her head away so that they should not see her tears.

  She felt Fred’s arm around her shoulders. ‘Hold up, lass. Hold up. We’ll find them.’

  Eveleen felt the trap jolt as she took a deep breath, lifted her head and said, with far more confidence than she was feeling inside, ‘Of course we will. We’ve got to.’

  They were passing the gateway into a farmyard, the house and outbuildings dark shapes against the grey sky.

  ‘Stop a minute,’ Eveleen said suddenly, and as Richard brought the vehicle to a standstill Eveleen forced her stiff limbs to climb down.

  ‘What is it?’ Josh asked, anxiety and hope in equal measure in his voice. ‘Have you seen something?’

  ‘No, but it’s milking time.’ If the moment had not been so serious she would have laughed at the puzzled looks the three men exchanged. She couldn’t resist the temptation to say, ‘Farm workers rise early. They’re up and about and at work while factory workers are only thinking about it.’ She gestured towards the farm. ‘There’ll have been someone about the yard for an hour or more. They might have seen something.’

  The three men looked towards the farm and now, as they listened, they could all hear the sounds of life coming from the cowhouse.

  ‘D’you want me to come with you?’ Fred asked uncertainly. ‘I will, but I don’t like cows much.’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Josh said and pushed himself up, rocking the trap as he climbed down. ‘I’ve always fancied living in the country and working on the land.’

  Eveleen glanced at him in surprise. ‘Have you really?’

  ‘Oh aye,’ he went on as they walked towards the five-barred gate into the yard. ‘When I was a little lad I came on holiday to a farm. Best holiday I ever had.’ Then, despite the gravity of their mission, he laughed. ‘Mind you, it was the only holiday I ever had.’

  They reached the cowhouse and Eveleen opened the door to be met by the familiar smells of her childhood, the warm, comforting smell of the beasts and the straw that littered the floor. For a moment she stood breathing in the heady atmosphere and swayed momentarily as poignant memories of her father flooded t
hrough her.

  No wonder, she thought, that her mother was so desperate to come back home. It was the only place Mary had known true love and security.

  A man was walking towards them. ‘What do you want? You’re unsettling my beasts.’ His tone was wary and held a note of warning as the cow nearest to the door where Eveleen and Josh were standing moved restlessly. It turned its head and looked at them with wide, nervous eyes.

  Without thinking what she was doing Eveleen out of a long, inbred habit moved towards the cow and began to rub its hindquarters and croon softly in her throat. The farmer began to smile. ‘Oh, so you know about cows, lass, do you? After a job, are you?’

  She smiled at him, but the worry did not leave her eyes. ‘Yes, mister, I do know about cows, but it’s not a job I’m after at the moment. We want to ask you if you’ve seen anyone this morning. A woman carrying a baby.’

  The man shook his head. ‘No, can’t say I have.’ He looked at them and must have read the anxiety on their faces, for he murmured, ‘Not the sort of morning to be out walking. And with a babby.’

  Disappointed, but hardly surprised, Eveleen sighed heavily. She gave the cow’s rump a final pat and turned towards the door. ‘Thanks, anyway.’

  ‘Wait a bit. Have you come far?’

  ‘From Nottingham,’ Josh said.

  The farmer smiled. ‘Then I reckon you could do with a bite. My missis’ll be getting my breakfast. You’re welcome to come in.’

  ‘Well,’ Josh looked towards Eveleen, guessing that she’d rather press on.

  ‘We did bring a basket of food with us.’

  ‘Aye, but it’ll not be bacon, eggs and fried bread, will it?’

  Eveleen could almost see Josh salivating and suddenly, despite the anxiety, she felt hungry too. ‘That’s very kind of you,’ she said, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice. ‘Are you sure your wife won’t mind? There’s two more waiting in the trap in the lane.’

  The man threw back his head and roared with laughter. ‘There’s nowt my missis likes better than having a houseful of folks to cook for. Bring ’em in. Bring ’em in and I’ll go and tell her we’ve got visitors for breakfast.’

  It was just what the four of them needed, though Eveleen fretted at the delay and felt guilty as she tucked into the food.

  ‘You’ll feel all the better. Dan, go and feed that pony, an’ all. Poor animal looks that bedraggled and miserable. Now, Mr Carpenter, more fried bread?’ The farmer’s wife, who was almost as round as Josh and with a red face, beamed at him. She liked a man who enjoyed his food. ‘Another sausage?’

  Fed and warmed, though not quite dry, they took their leave of the kindly farmer and his wife. ‘We’ll keep a look-out,’ the farmer promised. ‘And if we see them we’ll take them in and look after them.’

  Eveleen smiled her thanks, knowing, for once, that their promise was genuine.

  Richard shook the farmer’s hand. ‘If you do see them,’ he said, ‘send word to the Reckitt and Stokes factory in Nottingham.’

  ‘Right you are, sir.’ The farmer touched his cap respectfully, recognizing the voice of authority when he heard it.

  Fifty-Two

  They drove on for miles until Eveleen said hopelessly, ‘She can’t possibly have walked this far. We must have missed her.’

  ‘Unless she got a ride on a cart with someone,’ Fred reminded her.

  ‘But we’re almost at Bernby. We’re almost home.’

  She felt the three men glance at her, but her gaze was straight ahead now, searching for familiar buildings.

  Was it really only just over a year ago that she had travelled this road taking her away? It seemed an age away, another life.

  ‘Take the next turn to the right, Mr Richard, please.’ A little later Eveleen murmured, ‘And now left.’

  Richard nodded and guided the pony and trap down the rough cart track that led to the farmhouse where the Hardcastle family had once lived. Without pausing to consider whether it was what she wanted, he drew into the yard and halted. Then he turned to her. His tone was gentle as he said, ‘Is this where you used to live?’

  Unable to speak, Eveleen could only nod. She was looking at the house, drinking in the sight of it, reliving the memories, good and bad.

  Richard said softly, ‘It doesn’t look inhabited.’

  Startled, Eveleen looked closer. She had been seeing the house as she had always known it, had almost expected her mother to step out of the back door in her white apron, calling, ‘Walter, Walter, your supper’s ready.’

  Now she saw that although the same curtains still hung at the windows, the glass was dull and dirty. The door was shut and no hens scratched about the yard grumbling to each other. No sounds came from the cowhouse.

  There was a deserted feeling about the whole place.

  White-hot anger flooded through Eveleen. ‘Nobody’s living here. They drove us out and yet nobody’s even living here.’

  ‘There’s one thing though, mi duck,’ Josh said. ‘Your mam might well be here. That is, if she could get in.’

  Eveleen clambered down from the trap and with a sudden spurt of renewed hope ran to the back door. She bent and scrabbled under a loose brick near the wall. Triumphantly she stood up and turned back towards them holding a key in her hands. ‘It’s still here. They haven’t moved it.’

  The men were climbing down now to join her and Richard was the first to reach her. Then the hope in her face died. ‘She can’t be in the house, can she, if the key is still under the brick?’

  ‘No, probably not,’ Richard said gently, ‘but we’d better take a look anyway now we’re here. It is the most likely place she would come. Could she have found another way in?’

  Eveleen shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’ But she turned the key in the lock, stiff now with disuse, pushed open the door and stepped inside. She wrinkled her nose. The house was damp and unlived in. The furniture they had been obliged to leave was still there. Eveleen glanced around her. The pots and pans they had used every day, now dull with dust and lack of care, still lined the dresser. Walter’s wooden rocking chair still stood in its place near the hearth. Even the scraps of paper they had burnt just before leaving were still in the cold grate.

  ‘I can’t believe it. It – it’s just as we left it.’ Tears prickled her eyes at the injustice of it. ‘No one’s even lived here since we left.’

  Richard touched her arm. ‘Do you want me to look upstairs?’

  Eveleen shook herself out of her reverie. ‘No, no, I’ll go.’

  Only moments later she returned downstairs to say sadly, ‘No, she’s not here.’

  ‘We’ve looked in the parlour,’ Richard said. ‘But now I think we should search all the outbuildings, thoroughly.’

  As they moved outside it was raining again and the pony stood looking woeful and, despite the kindly farmer’s attentions, still hungry. Eveleen, reared to think of the welfare of the animals even before herself, said at once, ‘I’ll see to the pony. If they’ve not even bothered to clear the house out, then maybe there’s feedstuff still here.’

  There was and soon she had fed and watered the animal and had drawn him into the shelter of the barn while the men searched the cowhouse, the large barn and its hayloft and even the henhouse.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Eveleen,’ Richard said, and there was no doubting his sincerity. ‘I really thought, like Josh, when we saw the place empty, that she might be here.’

  They were standing just inside the house, sheltering from the rain but with the door open, while they decided what to do next. The sound of hoofbeats in the distance came nearer and slowed near the gate.

  Eveleen, recognizing the rider, drew in a startled breath and felt the three men with her glance at her. But she was staring at the rider as he trotted into the yard and dismounted.

  He was as handsome as ever. He hadn’t changed in the months since she had seen him, of course. But she had. Oh how she had changed. The scales had tipped and her love
had now become hatred. Her face coloured as she stepped towards him.

  ‘So.’ His languid voice now held no appeal for her. ‘We’ve become squatters now, have we?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Eveleen said tightly. ‘We’re going. I wouldn’t want to live in a house owned by you if you paid me.’

  He threw back his head and laughed. ‘There’s no fear of that. I can get what I want without having to pay for it.’

  His glance took in the three men with her and his left eyebrow rose in the way she remembered so well. Yet now there was a cruel, sardonic slant to it. Perhaps it had always been there, Eveleen thought, but she had been too blind to see it. Stephen’s gaze had come to rest upon Richard and now there was a sarcastic twist to his smile.

  ‘I see you still aim high, Eveleen.’ He gave a brief nod and said directly to Richard, ‘I hope she gives you as much pleasure as she once gave me.’

  Eveleen’s face went red with rage. His words implied far more than had ever passed between them. He meant to humiliate her in their eyes, especially in Richard’s.

  ‘How dare you?’ Before she had stopped to think what she was doing, she had flown at him, clawing at his face. She was crying with rage. ‘How dare you say such a thing when it isn’t true?’

  He caught hold of her wrists and held her easily.

  ‘I hate you!’ she spat at him. ‘Hate you.’

  He was laughing in her face. ‘No you don’t. You still love me. You only held out because you thought I’d marry you.’ His lips curled again. ‘You really had the temerity to think that I’d marry the likes of you. The daughter of our gathman.’

  She kicked out at him and caught him on the shin, noticing with satisfaction his wince of pain. He released her and she would have flown at him again if Richard’s strong arms had not come around her waist from behind and held her firm, while Fred stepped between them.

  ‘I don’t know who you are, young feller, but I think you’d better leave.’

  ‘Had I really?’ Stephen’s voice drawled, but his blue eyes glittered dangerously. ‘You’re the ones who had better leave. You’re trespassing. On my property.’