Luke took one look at the ring, glared at Douglas and then stormed out of the house, slamming the back door with such force that the whole house seemed to rattle.
Douglas laughed. ‘Oh dear, I don’t think my future father-in-law likes me.’
May tucked her arm through his and gazed up adoringly at him. ‘Don’t worry, he’ll come round. Anyway, we won’t be living here, will we?’
Her eyes still shining, May turned to Anna. ‘Darling, we’ll be going home. When Douglas and I are married, we’ll be going back to live in Lincoln.’
For a moment Anna felt sick. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Douglas, she did, but not enough for him to take her father’s place.
‘You mean – we’re going back to – to the house we had in Lincoln?’
‘No, no, of course not. I gave up the tenancy on that. No, we’ll be going to live in Douglas’s house.’
Douglas came towards Anna and put his arm about her shoulder, squeezing her to his side. ‘We’ll get a new house for the four of us. And you can help us choose it. Now, that’d be nice, wouldn’t it?’
Anna’s gaze was on her mother’s face. ‘But what about Grandpa? We can’t leave him all alone here.’
‘He’s got Betty and Rita.’
‘Yes, but when the war’s over, they’ll be going home. They won’t want to stay here.’
For a moment, May’s face clouded. ‘Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.’ She glanced at Betty and Rita, who, up until this moment had remained silent. ‘I thought you liked it here. I thought you’d be staying.’
The two Land Army girls glanced at each other and then shook their heads. ‘We do like it,’ Betty said, ‘more than we thought we would, I have to admit that. But no, once this lot’s over, we’ll be going home. I – I miss my family.’
‘Me too,’ Rita said quietly.
‘Oh.’ May was crestfallen.
Douglas hugged her. ‘Don’t worry, darling. The old man will be all right. He’ll get a housekeeper and there’ll be plenty of men coming back from the war looking for work. He’ll be fine.’
Anna bit her lip, torn between concern for her grandfather and the delicious thought of seeing Bruce every day. And yet the farm was where she belonged. She took a deep breath and before she really knew what she was doing, she said, ‘I’ll stay with Grandpa.’
The look of relief on Douglas’s face was obvious, but May was still worried. ‘But you’re only a child—’
‘I’m not. I’ll be fifteen in a few weeks. I think I can leave school at Easter. Old enough to get a job. Well, this will be my job. I’ll work for Grandpa and look after him.’
May bit her lip and murmured, ‘I’ll talk to Dad. I really wanted to go back to the city but I suppose we could all live here—’ Her voice trailed away in disappointment.
After Douglas had left, Betty said sharply, ‘I wouldn’t bank on it, if I were you. I don’t think Pops will ever come round to liking Douglas.’
Helplessly, May spread her hands. ‘I can’t see why. Douglas has been nothing but generous.’
‘That’s maybe it,’ Betty said. ‘He flashes his money about and your dad doesn’t like the fact that Doug is probably dealing just outside the law.’
‘Is he?’ May asked ingenuously. Betty shrugged her plump shoulders and said, ‘I wouldn’t like to ask. Dougie’s got a bit of a temper on him if he’s crossed.’
May’s eyes widened. ‘Has he? I’ve never seen it.’
‘Well, you wouldn’t, would you?’ Then she added ominously, ‘Not yet.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry to say it, May, but you know me. I’ve got to say what I think and I think you’re making a big mistake. Dougie’s all right for a bit of fun, like I’ve always said, but that’s all. Marrying him might be the worst thing you’ve ever done.’
May gave a nervous laugh. ‘You’re only jealous.’
‘No, I’m not, May,’ Betty said seriously. ‘Not a bit. Look, me an’ Reet care about this family. We’re very fond of all of you and I just don’t think he’s right for you. That’s all.’
May’s lips were tight as she said, ‘Well, let me be the best judge of that.’
Betty stood up and shrugged. ‘Have it your way then, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Come on, Reet, let’s give Pops a hand.’
The two girls left the room and May and Anna were left staring silently at each other. May’s wonderful news had not been met with the delight she had hoped for.
Two days later at breakfast, Luke made a startling announcement. ‘If you marry that feller, May, I’m changing me will.’
Betty got up from the table. ‘If you want to discuss private family business, me an’ Reet—’
‘Sit down,’ Luke said sharply. ‘You might as well hear it. If this war goes on much longer, it might even concern you, in a way. As I was saying, I’ll change me will and leave it all to Anna. But’ – he turned towards his granddaughter, his shaggy white eyebrows meeting in a frown – ‘there’s a condition. You will have no more to do with that son of his. That Bruce. I won’t have’ – Luke glanced around the table now, prodding his knife in the air – ‘either of them getting their hands on my farm. You hear me?’
May was sitting with her mouth wide open, stunned by the depth of her father’s dislike for her fiancé. Betty and Rita glanced uncomfortably at each other, but said nothing. Only Anna cried out, ‘Oh, Grandpa, don’t you like Bruce?’
‘No, I don’t like either of them. And that’s the truth. So’ – he rose and rested his hands on the table, leaning forward – ‘it’s up to you now. I’ve said me piece and I’ll say no more. If you want to marry that – that wide boy, May, go ahead. But you won’t get my blessing – or the farm. And you, Anna, there’ll be a condition in my will that you only get it if you don’t marry Bruce Whittaker.’
As the door closed behind Luke, May whispered, ‘Can he do that? Can he put that sort of thing in a will? About Anna, I mean?’
Betty shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but he’s going to try. That’s obvious. Come on, Reet, we’d better get working.’
Once again, May and Anna were left staring helplessly at each other across the table.
The happy atmosphere at Clayton’s Farm was gone. Luke only spoke to May when it was absolutely necessary, and then in clipped tones. On the surface he treated Anna no differently, yet the girl could feel the tension, knew that he was waiting for her to discuss the matter further with him; waiting for her to give him her promise.
Bruce was due home on leave for the weekend and this time Anna had no compunction in pouring out the whole story to him. She knew May would have told Douglas by now.
‘That’s blackmail,’ Bruce said. ‘I hope you’re not going to take notice of the silly old fool.’
Despite her anguish over her grandfather’s ultimatum, Anna felt a thrill run through her to think that Bruce thought so much about her that he didn’t care whether she inherited the farm or not. His next words took away some of that thrill. ‘You could always contest the will when the time came. You’re his only relative, aren’t you?’
Anna nodded.
‘Well, then you could always say he was going senile when he made it. I think you’d have a pretty strong case.’
Anna gasped. ‘I couldn’t say something like that about Grandpa. Specially when it’s not true.’
Bruce shrugged and said callously, ‘He wouldn’t know, would he? He’d be dead by then.’
As they returned to the farmyard hand in hand, Douglas roared in through the gate, bringing his car to a squealing halt. May, breathless and laughing, allowed him to help her from the car.
‘Anna, come and help me get the tea ready.’
‘We’ll stay out here and have a smoke. I know the old man doesn’t like cigarette smoke.’ Douglas laughed. ‘I don’t want to upset him any more.’ He held out his cigarette case to Bruce, who took one and lit it.
As Anna and her mother moved into the house, May glanced back. ‘Isn’t it nice to see
father and son getting on so well?’ she said wistfully and Anna knew she was thinking of the growing rift between herself and her own father.
‘Don’t worry, Mam. Maybe Grandpa will come round once he sees how happy you are with Douglas.’
May sighed. ‘Perhaps you’re right. He didn’t like your daddy when I first met him, but he came round in the end. But – but this seems different. I’ve never seen your grandfather so – so determined. No, Anna, I don’t think he will ever come to like Douglas. If I marry him and you continue to see Bruce, we’ll lose the farm. Somehow, my father will see to that.’ Then her glance went to the window as she watched Douglas talking to his son. ‘But Douglas has told me I’m not to worry about it. He’s not bothered. He can provide for all of us, he says.’ Her cheeks were pink with pleasure as she added shyly, ‘It’s me he wants, he says, not the farm.’
Anna, too, glanced out of the window, watching Douglas lean nonchalantly against his car whilst his son was talking earnestly to him, his head bent towards him.
‘What do you think they’re talking about?’
May smiled. ‘I don’t know, but it looks pretty serious. Maybe they’re planning to buy that house in Lincoln Douglas has promised.’
‘Mmm,’ Anna said thoughtfully. ‘Maybe.’
Douglas and Bruce left just after ten. ‘I’ll have to get the lad back home. He has to be up early in the morning to get back to camp.’ He guffawed. ‘Can’t have him going AWOL.’
By half past ten everyone was in bed in the farmhouse; the only being left awake was Buster on guard outside in the yard.
Anna was drifting into sleep when the sound of barking startled her into full wakefulness. This time, she did not hesitate but sprang from the bed and, barefoot, rushed along the landing to knock on her grandfather’s bedroom door.
‘Grandpa, Grandpa – Buster’s barking.’
‘Right, lass,’ her grandfather’s voice sounded through the door. ‘I’m on me way.’
Anna rushed back to her bedroom to pull on trousers and a warm jumper over her pyjamas. By the time she emerged again from her room, her grandfather was halfway down the stairs and Betty, Rita and May had appeared at their bedroom doors.
‘What is it?’
‘What’s the matter?’
‘It’s Buster barking. Maybe it’s those poachers again.’
‘Right,’ said Betty. ‘Let’s get ’em.’
Downstairs they found Luke opening the back door, his twelve-bore shotgun in his hand.
‘Oh, Dad, do be careful,’ May cried.
Luke turned briefly. ‘You stay here. All of you.’
‘I’m coming with you,’ Betty said firmly and Rita and Anna said in unison, ‘So am I.’
‘All right. But keep well back. I don’t want to shoot you by mistake. But I mean to get these beggars. Whoever they are,’ he added grimly.
They stood together in the yard for a few moments, listening, until their eyes became accustomed to the dark. Buster had now ceased barking and came to stand beside his master. Briefly, Luke fondled the dog’s head and murmured, ‘Good boy. Good dog. Quiet now.’
Now they could hear the squawking from the henhouse.
‘It could be a fox,’ Rita whispered.
‘Aye,’ Luke said grimly, ‘but Mr Fox is still a poacher.’
Luke moved forward, the others following, but keeping their distance as he had instructed. The noise of the terrified hens got louder as they neared the henhouse. Luke raised his gun and pointed it to the sky. Then he fired it, the report echoing through the night.
The girls, standing near the corner of the barn, saw two shadowy figures moving near the henhouse. One was running away, climbing over the fence and into the lane, but the other was crouching low and coming straight towards Luke.
‘Stop or I’ll shoot,’ Luke said and lowered his gun.
The figure spoke, but the girls were too far away to hear what he said. They heard Luke say, ‘You!’ before the man reached him, knocked the gun aside and punched the old man viciously in the stomach. Luke groaned and slumped to the ground.
‘Grandpa!’ Anna cried and began to run forward, Betty and Rita close behind her.
The attacker stood over Luke for a second, his face masked by a balaclava. Then he turned and ran across the grass towards the fence, whilst Betty blundered after him, shouting obscenities.
‘You bastard. Wait till I get me hands on you. Hit a poor old man, would you?’
But he was too fast for any of them. He vaulted the fence and when, panting, Betty reached it, she could only hear his feet pounding down the lane, receding into the distance. Moments later, she heard the sound of a vehicle’s engine and knew that they had escaped.
Furious that she had not at least been able to catch up with one of them, Betty returned to where Anna and Rita were crouching beside Luke. Anna was crying, saying over and over, ‘Grandpa. Oh, Grandpa.’
As Betty reached them, Rita stood up and began to run towards the barn. ‘I’m going for the doctor, Bet. He’s been stabbed. Get May—’
For a moment Betty could not move. She gazed down at the inert form. ‘Stabbed?’ she repeated stupidly. Anna’s hands were moving over Luke’s body. ‘He’s bleeding. There’s blood everywhere. Oh, Betty, do something. Please, do something!’
Galvanized, Betty leapt forward and began to run towards the house. ‘I’ll get your mam and a torch. We need some light—’
May was waiting anxiously, hovering near the back door.
‘Your dad’s been hurt. Stabbed,’ Betty said briefly. ‘Bring a torch and a towel. I’ll get some blankets off my bed—’
May, too, repeated incredulously, ‘Stabbed?’
‘Yes. Hurry. Reet’s gone for the doc.’
Betty, with May hurrying after her, returned to Anna to find the girl still weeping over the still form of the old man.
‘Now, now,’ Betty said kindly. ‘Crying won’t help him. Come on, love, stop that noise.’
‘Oh Betty, I – I think he’s dead. I – I’ve tried to feel his pulse and – and I can’t find one.’
‘Course he isn’t, love.’ But when Betty shone the torch into Luke’s face and saw his wide, staring eyes and his mouth gagging open she knew the girl was right. She went through the motions of feeling for a pulse, first in his wrist and then his neck. She even put her cheek to his chest, desperate to hear the merest flicker of a heartbeat. There was nothing.
Slowly Betty stood up and took hold of Anna’s arm. ‘Come on, love,’ she said quietly. ‘There’s nothing more we can do.’
‘What? What do you mean?’ May’s voice rose hysterically.
‘I’m so sorry, May. He’s dead.’ Betty put her other arm around May and tried to lead them both away, but May fought her off and fell to her knees beside her father. She rocked backwards and forwards and then bent her head and kissed his cheek. Anna looked down once more and then buried her face against Betty’s comforting shoulder.
At last May stood up. ‘Can’t we carry him into the house? We – we can’t leave him here.’
‘Better not move him, love,’ Betty said. ‘Not till the doctor and the police have seen him.’
‘The police?’
‘It’s a police matter now, May. Your father’s been murdered.’
May closed her eyes and groaned whilst Anna sobbed into Betty’s shoulder.
There was no sleep to be had for anyone the rest of that night. May sat in the kitchen, dry-eyed now, a wooden figure at the table, her arms resting on its surface, just staring into the distance. Anna curled up in her grandfather’s chair near the range, alternately crying and raging against whoever had done this dreadful thing.
‘All for a few hens,’ she kept saying angrily. ‘His life for a few miserable hens.’
May said nothing, whilst Betty made endless cups of tea and Rita looked after the doctor and then the village bobby, who had come to the farm on his bicycle.
‘Bad business, this,’ he said, sitting
at the table in front of May and opening his notebook. ‘I’m sorry to put you through this, May, but I’ll have to ask you some questions.’ He glanced round the room, intimating that he would need to question them all.
‘Can’t it wait?’ Betty asked tartly. ‘You can see what a state they’re both in.’ Then she muttered, ‘The state we’re all in, if it comes to that. Me and Reet were very fond of old Pops.’ Tears filled her eyes, but she dashed them away impatiently. It was no time for her to indulge in tears. She had to be strong for the others. Later, in the privacy of the room she shared with Rita, she would weep for the old man, but for now . . .
‘I’m sorry, miss,’ the policeman, Reg Hamlin, was saying, ‘but statements are best taken as soon as possible after the event. I’ve had to send word to my superiors in Lincoln. It’ll be out of my hands soon, but they’ll expect me to have made a start. Besides’ – he glanced sympathetically towards May and Anna – ‘I’m a friend of the family, like, and I thought they’d rather talk to me than a stranger.’
‘But they can’t think properly.’
‘Things can always be altered later, but it’s best to make a start now,’ Reg said with kindly firmness, ‘while it’s all still clear in their minds.’
One by one he listened to what they had to say, but the sum total of all their statements didn’t amount to anything very helpful.
Reg left as a red dawn was breaking over the farmhouse.
Forty-One
Of course there had to be a post-mortem and an inquest, the outcome of which confirmed that Luke had been stabbed with a knife or similar weapon by ‘a person or persons unknown’. Hearing it, Anna shuddered, remembering the bayonet that Bruce had shown her.
Douglas had arrived as usual the following Sunday and was appalled to hear the news. ‘Darling May,’ he said, taking her into his arms, ‘you should have let me know. I would have come at once. You need a man at a time like this.’
May clung to him and Anna turned away, wishing that Bruce had come with his father. She could do with a strong shoulder to cry on too. But his brief leave was over and he had had to report back to camp.
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