by Kirsty Ferry
‘As I say, my dear Lydia, I am mistaken. I must go. I am so sorry. I will come and visit you soon, I promise.’ Rose ducked her head and hurried away.
‘No, you will not,’ muttered Lydia. Then she shouted out to the retreating figure, ‘And please ensure our mutual acquaintances know the truth, Rose! I would hate to be the subject of speculative gossip, as you can imagine!’
Rose practically broke into a run and Lydia watched her disappear over the path. She gave her enough time to put a reasonable distance between them and then set off back towards the phaeton, her mind whirling. She could not comprehend how her life could possibly get any worse, but she thought she was about to find out.
CARRICK PARK
Lydia had left instructions that the portrait of Ella should be hung on the stairwell in her absence. And she was delighted to see that her wishes had come true.
As soon as she walked into the house and turned left up the staircase, the portrait of Ella stopped her in her tracks.
‘Oh, my goodness.’ Lydia reached out and touched the picture. ‘How perfect.’
‘Yes it is, miss.’ Elizabeth crept up behind her, clutching a vase full of fresh flowers. ‘I keep looking at it and seeing her there.’ She laughed a little. ‘I keep asking to do jobs upstairs, miss, so I get to see her. I was just taking these to your bedroom. I’m sorry I didn’t use the servants’ staircase, miss.’ She raised the vase.
‘I am so preoccupied with Ella’s portrait that I had not realised,’ said Lydia with a smile. ‘But flowers, that is very kind of you. Did you manage to amuse yourself with the young man while I was away?’
Elizabeth blushed. ‘He’s very nice.’
‘I am pleased about that as well.’ She reached out and patted Elizabeth’s shoulder. ‘If you need a day off to see him, then I am sure we can arrange that.’
Elizabeth blushed again. ‘Thank you, miss.’
Lydia smiled and opened her mouth to respond, when the entrance door clashed open and both women turned around.
Jacob was standing at the bottom of the grand staircase, staring up at the portrait. ‘What the hell is that?’ he shouted. ‘What is she doing there?’
‘Adam would have thanked me for this,’ replied Lydia. ‘And do not tell me you would not be happy to see Ella every day, looking at you when you walk up the stairs to your bedroom.’
Lydia was conscious of Elizabeth disappearing like a wraith into the bedroom corridor above and she really didn’t blame her. She watched Jacob storm up the stairs and, when he was a few steps from the top, she turned and headed up the second flight so she was in the corridor, looking down at him.
Jacob drew to a halt in front of the picture. ‘It is not staying there,’ he said, looking up at it.
‘Why not?’ asked Lydia. Her voice was dangerously low and she gripped the bannister.
‘Because I say so,’ he said. His face was pale and his composure clearly wavering.
Lydia couldn’t help it; she laughed derisively. ‘You say so? Just as you said I had a child and was confined to my bed? Well, now. I disagree.’
She was gratified to see a flicker of unease pass across his face. ‘Who told you that?’
‘It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you said it. Why, Jacob? I will not settle for third best and—’
‘Third best?’ he shouted. He climbed a few steps and stood, staring up at her.
‘Third best,’ she repeated. ‘Ella first. And then Helena. And …’ It was Lydia’s turn to feel that sense of unease. ‘Helena,’ she repeated slowly. ‘Rose said the baby looked strange. It was something about its eyes.’ She stared at Jacob and in that moment she understood. ‘Oh God! It’s Helena’s baby, isn’t it? And what the hell were you going to do with me and our baby when it came?’ Instinctively, she brought her arm around and laid it protectively over her stomach. ‘What were you going to do?’ Her eyes moved to the portrait and all of a sudden it started to make sense. Third best.
But before she could formulate any words, Jacob started up the stairs two at a time. ‘I had not decided,’ he yelled, ‘but it is nothing I cannot do now!’
Lydia flung both her arms out in front of her, purely as a defence mechanism. Then it all seemed to happen in slow motion.
She felt Jacob’s strong, hard chest connect with her open palms and someone or something gave her the strength to push against him as hard as she could.
Her screams combined with his as he missed his footing and tumbled backwards down the staircase, hitting the wall of the stairwell head first and coming to rest beneath the portrait in a twisted mess. He lay deathly still in an attitude that left Lydia in no doubt as to what had happened to him.
Then Lydia opened her mouth and screamed again. And this time she couldn’t stop.
The noise brought people scurrying from every corner of the house – the first person Lydia was aware of was Elizabeth, who wrapped her arms around Lydia and gently drew her away from the top of the stairs, moving her to where she couldn’t see the carnage or smell the blood that was pooling on the landing.
‘’Twasn’t your fault, miss, ’twasn’t your fault,’ Elizabeth kept saying. ‘Trust me, miss. I’ll see you right. He slipped, miss, fair and simple, he slipped. You never touched him, miss, no not at all. I saw it all, miss, I saw it when I was coming along the corridor. ’Tis a tragedy, miss, but it wasn’t your fault.’
‘But you were in my bedroom,’ said Lydia, on a hysterical sob. ‘You couldn’t see it. You couldn’t see it.’
Elizabeth guided her to a chair and pushed her down into it. ‘You didn’t do it, miss. Trust me. I saw it all.’ The girl’s voice was low and controlled.
Lydia raised her eyes to the maid’s and her gaze met the other girl’s with an understanding that was deeper than either of them could vocalise.
‘You as well?’ Lydia whispered eventually.
Elizabeth blushed and dropped her gaze. ‘Like I said, miss, you didn’t do it. And I shall swear that until I go to my grave. We can’t help the master and the mistress, but we can damn well help you.’
And as the girl’s eyes met Lydia’s again, she knew that was all she could hope for.
Part Three
BECKY
November
There was certainly a lot to think about. Becky was genuinely struggling with trying to fit everything together. The one thing that annoyed her the most was the fact that Ella and Adam had disappeared. It didn’t take a genius to imagine that whatever it was had been pretty bad. There was definitely something Ella was trying to tell her. She was becoming more and more insistent, and Becky still hadn’t managed to shake her off.
The cliff path was narrow and, where it petered out onto the real cliff edges, no more than a single track. The wind was biting, streaming right across the North Sea and battering Becky as she walked along with her head down.
The one piece of the puzzle she still didn’t fully understand was the lavender. She wanted to think that it was a love token, given to Lydia Carrick by Jacob, the cousin Lissy had told her she married; but that just didn’t seem right, not entirely. She paused by the railings and leant on them, staring out to the sea, hoping for some sort of divine inspiration. She felt the wind on her face and a few spots of rain or salt spray that were carried inland with it. Her hair was whipping about and she knew she must look a mess. Angrily, she pushed her hair behind her ear, but the wind loosened it, blowing it against her cheeks again. Standing there in the completely silent world that Ella had lived in felt surreal. So this is what it would be like? she thought. She didn’t like it; and yes, it upset her. Not many things about her life truly upset her, but the thought of living permanently like Ella had to, did upset her.
Becky’s gaze wandered onto the longer grass at the cliff top. It looked like the cliff had been the victim of some sort of
erosion and she saw that a big chunk was missing a little further along. The cliff edge came up pretty close to the railings. In fact, she noticed the railings turned into a fence from that point onwards, and she walked along the path, focused on that bit. A cyclist whizzed past her and she jumped as he sped by, feeling a massive rush of air. He seemed to be ringing his bell furiously and now, not only was she upset, but she was annoyed that he had so very nearly knocked her over.
‘For goodness sake!’ she yelled at his retreating back. She couldn’t even hear herself shout. She resolved to keep more closely to the railings. Squashing herself right in next to them, she continued walking.
Just as she approached the beginning of the fence and the semi-circle that had disappeared from the cliff side, her attention was caught by a haze of purple that was hidden within the dry, yellowy grass. She stopped and leaned over, trying to see what it was. A group of tall, knobbly flowers sprang up from a silvery green bush of foliage and Becky knew immediately what it was: it was lavender. Or more precisely, it was sea lavender.
She was no botanist, but she knew that November was really not the right time for lavender to be flowering, whether it was sea lavender or not. She guessed that it probably bloomed around about July to the end of October at the very latest. So either these had been extremely well sheltered or …
Her heart lurched. ‘Was it here, Ella?’ she asked. She gripped the damp wood, her knuckles showing white through her skin. Unable to help herself she leaned further across the fence to get a closer view. Her foot slipped backwards on the muddy grass and she kind of half-lurched, half-tumbled as the rotten wood gave way under her grasp and pitched her forwards, head first, towards the cliff edge.
The figure came riding up to her, stark against the night sky. Forked lightning flashed around her and yes, she was frightened. Storms had never frightened her, but this one did. She knew the cliché about the Heavens opening, and then it truly happened. There was no warning; just a sudden, terrifying blackout and then the rain lashed down out of nowhere, blurring what little distance she could see up ahead. ‘Oh God!’ she screamed. Close to tears, she urged the horse towards Adam, so relieved to see him there. ‘I am sorry,’ she called, hoping he would hear her. ‘I should have waited for you. I should have come back to Whitby to find you.’
But the man was not Adam; it was Jacob. He was trying to tell her something. She tried to see him clearly, tried to read what he was saying, but it was just too dark now and the rain was blinding her.
She shook her head. ‘Jacob, I am sorry, I don’t know what you are saying. I must go and find Adam.’ She tried to pass him, but he took hold of her arm.
She saw him shake his head. ‘No.’ Ella just about managed to understand.
She frowned. ‘Why “no”?’ She gestured towards the town with her riding crop. ‘It is that way. I know where I am going, I just need to keep to the cliff path.’
‘The cliff path is crumbling away, Ella,’ Jacob shouted, ‘and the storm is too bad. It will not be safe. The rain …’
He tried to signal what he meant, but she just shook her head again, close to tears. ‘I cannot do it, Jacob; I cannot understand you. Please let me past. I need to find my husband.’ She tried to make the horse skirt around him, but the gap was not very wide and the horse stumbled. Jacob grabbed the reins and pulled the animal towards him. Then he didn’t know exactly what happened. One minute Ella was in the saddle, the next, apparently unseated by the horse’s stumble, she was gone. The last thing he heard was a rip, a scream and a sickening series of crunches and thuds as she disappeared over the side of the cliff.
‘Ella!’ Jacob let go of the reins and the animal reared, pulling away, eventually finding enough solid ground to enable it to run off across the moors. Jacob leapt from his horse and ran to the edge of the cliff. He slipped and skidded, somehow managing to right himself before he too went over the edge. There was nothing but darkness beneath him. ‘Oh God!’ he shouted. ‘Ella!’ At that moment a flash of lightning lit up the scene below him; all there was to be seen were massive, jagged rocks and wild waves, crashing against the cliff side.
‘Ella?’ Jacob heard the voice only faintly at first. It was a man’s voice, breaking through the darkness. He felt sick and his stomach lurched: Adam. He heard the horse’s hooves stamping through the mud, and soon they were near him.
‘She cannot hear you,’ Jacob said. His voice was flat and toneless. He did not turn to greet Adam, he just continued to stare over the cliff, praying that some miracle might have happened.
‘Jacob?’ shouted Adam. ‘What are you doing here? For God’s sake, man, were you following us? Where is Ella?’ He jumped off his horse and ran over to his cousin. ‘Where is she?’
‘I don’t know,’ replied Jacob. ‘I saw a horse on the horizon a few moments ago but it might have been anyone’s. I cannot say that I have seen her. Is she not with you?’ Now he turned to Adam. He hated the man; he absolutely hated him. He had always hated him. ‘She should have been with you. What was in your mind to let her travel alone on a night like this?’
‘What was in yours,’ Adam fired back, ‘to follow us into town? We are not your concern.’
‘I came to find her and bring her home, as you should have done. You should not have left her!’ shouted Jacob. All the bottled up rage spilled out. ‘You think you know so much about her, but you do not. Before you came back in the summer, she was mine. I could tell it was me she wanted. But all the time, throughout all of the years we grew up together, you always took what was rightfully mine.’
‘We have had this discussion before!’ snapped Adam. ‘And that is not the issue tonight. The issue tonight is where is my wife? I did not know that she had left Whitby until a street trader told me he had seen her mount her horse and go. Dammit, if I had only forced her to come into the offices with me!’ He raked his hands through his hair and looked frantically around him. ‘Which way did she go?’
‘She went back to the Park,’ said Jacob dangerously. ‘That is where she was heading.’
‘I do not believe you,’ shouted Adam. ‘You never saw the horse heading that way did you? What have you done to her? Where is she?’
‘You should not have left her!’ yelled Jacob again. ‘You do not deserve her!’
‘Jacob! Tell me where she is! For God’s sake, she could be anywhere.’ Adam looked around, as if the girl would magically appear out of nowhere. ‘Ella!’
Jacob laughed. ‘I told you, she will not hear you.’
Adam opened his mouth to reply, just as a flash of sheet lightning lit up the coast, as clearly as daylight. He squinted at the sudden brightness and turned his head away.
And then, Jacob realised, Adam saw it. He saw Ella’s riding crop lying among the clumps of flattened grass and the withered sea lavender; and, Jacob also realised, that Adam could not have failed to see where the top of the cliff had sheared away and exposed fresh mud, shining blackly under the lightning. Adam lurched forwards and grabbed the crop. He was almost upright, when Jacob launched himself at his cousin and knocked him to the ground.
The men laid into one another, fighting as if a lifetime’s resentment had exploded into that one moment on the cliff top. They swore at one another, Adam accusing Jacob of all sorts of atrocities, which did not stop at Ella.
‘I have my suspicions about Helena!’ Adam screamed at one point. ‘I can guess what you did to her that evening.’
‘She is a liar, a vicious liar. I never touched her.’
‘She accused you of nothing. Why would you assume that she did, if you were not guilty of something?’
Jacob punched Adam in the jaw, trying to silence the words. ‘It was your fault. If you had not left her to find Ella … if you had let me find Ella … but no. No, you would never have let me do that, would you?’
‘You think I would have let you near E
lla? I have never trusted you, ever. And I would never trust you with my precious Ella.’
Adam had Jacob on the ground now; he was taller and stronger, the punches becoming more aggressive. Jacob, pinned down on his back, groped around the area, looking for something to defend himself with, something to get Adam off him. His fingers found a rock and closed over it; he brought the rock up, slamming it into the side of Adam’s head. There was a gasp and Adam’s eyes opened wide. Then he went limp and fell, tumbling away from Jacob and lying motionless in the mud. Jacob rolled away from Adam, half-crawling, half-scrambling as he tried to put some distance between them. Adam never moved. Jacob, breathing heavily stared at the man, waiting for him to move; to moan; to do anything. But Adam did not.
It was probably at that point when reason fled from Jacob’s mind. First Ella; now Adam. It really only took an instant to decide. Shakily, he clambered to his feet and walked over. He took hold of Adam’s arms and dragged his body to the cliff side. More land had been dislodged and the semi-circle of landslide was even bigger now. He moved, so he was well away from the erosion, Adam’s body lying between him and the cliff edge. He squatted down and rolled the body towards the edge. It only took one final push, and his cousin was hurtling over the edge to join Ella.
Becky would never know how she hadn’t gone tumbling over that cliff the same way that Ella and Adam had. She lay there for a while with her eyes squeezed shut, feeling the mud and the coldness soaking through her clothes. She couldn’t get the pictures out of her head and she felt sick.
When the images faded a little and she finally found the courage to open her eyes, she found herself staring into a chasm, dizzied by the waves crashing on the shore below, the white tips of them creaming into the rocks and spilling back over themselves. She was clutching onto two tufts of sea lavender; as if that would save her – yeah, sure. Her heart pounding, she held her position carefully, trying desperately hard to listen to the sounds of the North Sea. Ella had gone, she couldn’t sense her any more at all – but it was all terribly dull and faint around her, the crashing of the waves was no more than a whisper. She closed her eyes again and swore. Great. That was all she needed.