“Ten minutes to curtain up,” called the stage manager.
“Thank you,” Kitty called back. She tucked the letter into her corset, finished applying her make-up and put on her dress. Tonight she would sing The boy I love is up in the gallery one last time, and tomorrow she would go to the harbour and take her chances with this enigmatic man that fate had thrown into her path.
~~~
“Come here, Lucky,” said Zoe.
The dog put his face up close to hers and licked her nose. He was looking sorry for himself, thought Rose, probably wondering why Zoe hadn’t hugged him for bringing her the necklace.
“Listen, Lucky.” Zoe spoke earnestly to the dog. “My hands are tied. I can’t move.”
Lucky cocked his head to one side but showed no sign of understanding.
This is ridiculous, thought Rose. If this was a movie she’d give the dog instructions to go and fetch the local constable and he’d do it.
“My hands,” persisted Zoe. She tilted her head backwards to show the dog where to look. “Behind me, Lucky.”
Lucky took a cautious step to the side and peered behind Zoe’s back.
“I’m stuck!” wailed Zoe, getting more desperate now. She jiggled her arms around, making the metal bed-frame shake. Lucky sniffed at her wrists. And then, as if he actually understood her predicament, he started gnawing at the leather with his teeth.
“Good dog!” said Zoe. “Keep going.”
Rose thought she might be dreaming and any minute now she’d wake up and find the dog gone. But it seemed that Lucky really was trying to chew his way through the leather strap that held Zoe prisoner. If they got out of here alive Rose was going to buy that dog the biggest bone she could find.
It seemed to take forever but then suddenly Zoe wrenched her arms free of the strap and shook her wrists in the air. Lucky barked and Zoe hugged him tight.
“That dog is amazing,” said Rose as Zoe undid the straps around Rose’s wrists.
“Yes, he is rather special, isn’t he?”
Free of her bonds, Rose staggered to her feet and dusted herself down. “We have to call for help,” she said. “Those men took Dan. But they took my mobile phone. Can I use yours?”
“Sorry,” said Zoe. “I don’t have one.”
“You don’t…?” Rose was speechless. Who didn’t have a mobile phone in this day and age? “Then I have to get into town.” She ran up the basement steps, Zoe and Lucky close behind.
Outside, they could see the tyre tracks left by the car in the dust. Lying on its side on the ground, was Dan’s bike. Rose grabbed the handle-bars and pulled the bike into an upright position. It was a road racing bike with dropped handle-bars, and bigger than she would have liked, but it was all she had. It would be quicker than walking.
“I’m going to get help for Dan,” she said. “But I won’t tell the police about this place. I promise.”
“It’s all right,” said Zoe. “Tell them whatever you want. I can’t stay here forever. It’s time I moved on.”
“I’ll let you know what happens,” said Rose. She hugged Zoe, then knelt down and hugged Lucky.
“Good luck,” called Zoe, as Rose climbed onto the bike and wobbled down the path.
~~~
Nurse Cooper came into the dormitory this morning, her usual red-faced, cross self. We were making our beds and Dorothy was singing at the top of her voice, an out-of-tune rendition of Come into the Garden, Maud, which I had once heard sung in London by Marie Lloyd. Despite all the wrong notes, I found it strangely comforting to listen to.
“Pack it in,” shouted Nurse Cooper. Dorothy ignored her and carried on singing.
“I said shut it, ye mad cow!” Nurse Cooper stormed over to Dorothy and raised her hand as if to hit her.
I darted towards them, placing myself between Dorothy and Nurse Cooper. “Leave her alone,” I said. “She’s not doing any harm.” The room fell silent and the other women stared in shock that someone had dared stand up to Nurse Cooper.
“And who d’ye think you are, Miss Hoity-Toity?” asked Nurse Cooper, her face redder than ever. “Reckon I’ll just take these things back downstairs and tell Dr Collins you ain’t ready to leave ’ere. ’Ow about that then? I’ve a good mind to tell ’im you’ve gone completely bonkers and should be put into solitary confinement.” She held her face close to mine and her eyes gleamed with malicious intent. It was then that I noticed she was carrying the black dress I was wearing when Henry had first brought me here. Mary’s dress. She also had my jet necklace which I had thought never to see again.
“What’s the matter? Cat got yer tongue?”
I shook my head.
“Ge’ yer togs on.” She threw the clothes at my feet. “You’re leaving ’ere. And good riddance. The posh’uns are always more trouble than they’re worth.”
“Leaving?” I asked, not sure that I had heard her right.
“You ’eard me,” she said. “Or ’ave you really gone and lost yer wits?”
That brought me to my senses. I did not know how my release had been secured, but I was not about to lose this opportunity.
“I will dress straight away,” I said. “Thank you for coming to tell me.” She snorted at that and walked away. The other women in the dormitory stared at me as if I was some kind of alien being. I suppose they were not used to one of their number being told she could leave. Even Dorothy lost her tongue for a few moments.
~~~
“Come on Lucky.” Zoe led the dog back towards the house, the place that she had come to regard as her home. But it was time to move on. She looked up at the huge, stone walls and felt a pang of regret. She had felt safe here. Some people, she knew, would be creeped out by the idea of living in a deserted Victorian lunatic asylum. They would have all sorts of nightmares, imagining the ghosts of the former residents haunting the abandoned corridors. But in Zoe’s experience it wasn’t the dead you needed to fear but the living, as the last hour had proved only too well.
Zoe wished Rose well in her search for Dan, but it was inevitable now that enquiries would be made that would bring the police to the asylum and Zoe had no desire to be found.
She went up to the room she had slept in and rolled up her sleeping bag. She stuffed it into her rucksack along with the blue blanket that Rose had brought earlier that afternoon. There was barely room for both items, but Zoe didn’t want to leave the blanket behind. It meant more to her than just physical warmth. It was proof that there was generosity and kindness in the world, and sometimes she was in danger of forgetting that. Then she packed the camping stove and the few tins of food she had left.
She didn’t know where she would go. Maybe further up the coast, towards Whitby.
She heaved her rucksack onto her back and took one last look at the room to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind. Then she remembered. In their haste to get out of the basement they had left the necklace lying on the floor. She didn’t feel much like going back down there, but the necklace looked like it might be valuable. She shouldn’t just leave it lying around. Leaving her rucksack at the top of the basement steps and keeping Lucky close by her side, Zoe descended to the basement once more. The necklace was still there, lying in a heap on the floor by the bedstead. Zoe picked it up and ran the stones through her fingers. It was tempting to keep the necklace, maybe try and sell it later, but she couldn’t do that. Rose had said the necklace belonged to her great-great-grandmother’s friend. She should return the necklace to Rose. But where to find her? Then Zoe remembered something about Tollergate. Hadn’t Rose said that was where she was staying? Tollergate was only a small street with a handful of houses on it. It shouldn’t be that difficult to knock on a few doors and find out which one Rose was in. Yes, that was what she would do. Her last act, before leaving Scarborough for good.
Zoe turned towards the stairs, and that was when she felt it. A vibration underfoot, like a rumbling deep within the earth. The pile of metal-framed beds creaked. One of the wind
ows cracked.
What the…?
Zoe ran up the steps and grabbed her rucksack. Something was wrong with the building, or the ground on which it stood. It was definitely time to get moving.
“Ready, Lucky?”
The dog barked and wagged his tail in reply. He’d follow her anywhere. And right now, that was anywhere out of here.
~~~
Henry climbed into the carriage that was waiting for him outside the Grand Hotel and commanded the driver to take him to Highcliff Asylum. By now Dr Collins should have received his note saying that he would be taking Alice away this morning and to make sure she was ready. He trusted that the short time she had spent in the asylum would be enough to subdue her wayward spirit and teach her a lesson. In Henry’s opinion women were like horses. You just had to break them in and after that they would become docile and provide you with years of domestic servitude. Besides, he’d had enough of this windswept corner of the north of England where the locals spoke in harsh, clipped accents and the seagulls shat on his top hat. He’d ruined two hats already and he didn’t want to ruin a third.
If Henry had been given to self-introspection, he would have admitted that failing to kill his opponent in the duel had badly wounded his pride. He couldn’t understand why the shot had gone wide, wounding the man’s arm but nothing more. It was true that he hadn’t fired a shot in years: his London life didn’t allow for such pleasurable pursuits, but he had always thought his skill with a pistol was innate, something as intrinsic to himself as the colour of his hair or his taste in fine wine. Never mind, the painter had proved to be an even worse shot than himself and Henry felt that he, Henry, had acquitted himself the better of the two.
As the carriage climbed the hill to the asylum Henry calculated the latest date he could make Alice his wife. She would be twenty-one in ten days’ time at which point she would inherit an immense fortune from her late uncle, a man who had traded in tea and silk from the Far East. It was imperative that they should marry before her birthday because then, according to the wording of her uncle’s will, the inheritance would be split evenly between husband and wife. The carriage pulled into the grounds of the asylum and Henry determined to set the wedding date seven days from now. But he was not going to take her back to London where she might escape his clutches once more. Oh no! Henry had secured two fares on a ship sailing for the Continent. He would take her to Amsterdam and marry her there. It would be less fuss than a fancy London do after all.
Henry climbed down from the carriage and walked up the steps to the front door of the asylum. Inside, his fortune awaited him.
~~~
Rose cycled down the lane, the bike tyres bumping over the rough ground. Twice she wobbled and almost fell off, but she clung on, holding the top of the handlebars. If she’d been riding her own bike it wouldn’t have been such a problem, but on Dan’s bike her feet only just reached the pedals and she couldn’t reach the gear system without bending down low and endangering her balance. At the end of the lane she waited for a stream of cars to go past and then turned onto the main road. There was no footpath to cycle on so she had to take her chances with the other vehicles. She held on tight as cars sped past her, some of them so close she could have touched them with an outstretched arm.
As soon as a footpath became available, she moved off the road and cycled on the path instead. There were no pedestrians this far out of the town so she figured she’d be all right for now. As she approached the outskirts of the town she realised she was actually going faster than the cars which had ground to a halt in a massive traffic jam. The number of pedestrians on the pavement increased the closer she got to the town centre. She slowed her pace. Soon she’d have to get off and walk. And then she saw them.
The Jaguar was stuck in the traffic. In front of the Jaguar was a white delivery van, its windows rolled down and loud music blaring out. Behind the Jag was a family hatchback with three children arguing in the back seat and the parents in the front looking tired and fed up. Rose jumped off the bike and held back, not wanting the men to see her in the wing mirror. The traffic crawled forwards. At this pace she could keep pace with them just by walking.
At the roundabout outside Peasholm Park the car suddenly turned left without indicating and, free of the traffic, started moving towards the headland. Desperate not to lose them, Rose jumped on the bike and pedalled as fast as she could. There was a wide prom to cycle on here, but the tide was coming in and the prom was crowded with families leaving the beach. Once she almost collided with a small boy on a scooter, the father hurling insults at her. Rose ignored him and pressed on. If she didn’t keep up she’d be in danger of losing sight of the Jaguar.
She did lose sight of it as it disappeared round the headland. She pushed down hard on the pedals. Her thighs would kill her tomorrow, but for now she was going to use every last ounce of energy she had. She rounded the headland and looked for the car but couldn’t see it anywhere. She banged the top of the handlebars in frustration. Then suddenly she saw it, turning towards the harbour. She skidded to a halt. The car was driving towards the lighthouse at the end of the jetty. It would have to stop soon or it would end up in the water. Rose got off the bike and followed.
~~~
She should have known it would be Henry coming for her.
For a short while, as Alice put on Mary’s black dress and fastened the jet necklace around her neck, she had believed that Mary and George had come to her rescue. She had envisioned them waiting for her in Dr Collins’ room. She had even imagined Dr Collins apologising to her for her incarceration and saying that it had all been a dreadful mistake. But of course, those thoughts had been nothing but foolish fancy and maybe even proved that she was mentally deficient after all.
When Nurse Cooper led her into Dr Collins’ room, Henry was standing there, a look of triumph on his face. Alice let out a startled cry. She threw herself at Dr Collins, clutching hold of his lapels. “Please, Doctor, I would rather stay here than go with that man. Tell Nurse Cooper to take me back to the ward. I beg you.”
“Miss Hawthorne,” said Dr Collins. “Please, control yourself. This is most unseemly behaviour.” He gently took hold of her hands and placed them into Henry’s large, sweaty palms. “Your husband-to-be will take care of you now. You are formally discharged from this establishment.”
“Thank you Doctor,” said Henry. He held Alice’s hands tightly. “I appreciate everything you have done for me and my future wife. Now we must hurry.” He led her towards the door. Alice tried to pull away from him. “Walk,” he hissed into her ear, “or I’ll put you in a far worse place than this.”
As Henry led her away from the asylum, Alice looked back at the house, almost with longing. It was a frightful place, without a doubt. Nurse Cooper was a bully; the food was inedible; Dr Collins was obsessed with his theories and researches and many, if not all, of the patients were suffering from delusions and manias with little hope of ever being cured. But she had escaped from one prison to find herself at the mercy of a man who would treat her no better than a slave. She had to get away from Henry, even if it meant going back inside the asylum.
Their route took them past a row of rose bushes, big, mature shrubs, heavy with late summer blooms. Without a thought to how much it would hurt, Alice stretched out a hand and grabbed the nearest stem, deliberately dragging her hand over the thorns, allowing the sharp spikes to tear at the delicate skin.
“Oh, I am bleeding,” she cried, holding up her hand where beads of bright red blood were forming like rubies across the palm of her hand. The wound stung, but it was a good feeling, giving her a sense of release.
“What is it now woman?” growled Henry. He grabbed hold of her wrist and examined her hand.
“I think I should go back inside and get this wound attended to.” She tried to keep her voice steady. “Else it may become infected.”
“What utter nonsense. It’s nothing more than a scratch.” He flung her wrist aside in disgust.
But then his eyes came to rest on the jet necklace around her neck. “What is this piece of frippery?”
Alice’s hand closed over the necklace. “It is nothing. Leave it.” In her haste, she had forgotten to hide it under her dress and now she cursed her foolishness.
“I don’t believe you! He gave it to you didn’t he? That painter fellow you were going around with, like a common whore!”
“No, please.”
“Give me that!” He wrenched the necklace from her neck, the clasp popping undone, and tossed it aside. It disappeared into a pile of horse muck that the gardeners had recently spread around the base of the roses. “Now get into the carriage. We are leaving.”
~~~
The car engine was turned off. They had arrived at their destination, although Dan didn’t know where that was. He listened for any familiar sounds, trying to get his bearings.
Seagulls.
The screeching and squawking was unmistakable, even from within the boot of the car. There was only one place Dan knew where the gulls made this sort of racket. Down by the harbour, when the fishing boats came in, laden with crates of pilchards and shrimp.
Dan held his breath, waiting to see what would happen next. If they left him in the boot of the car the heat would rise to intolerable levels and he would be dead before he knew it. To his relief, the boot of the car was pulled open. Dan blinked in the blinding sun.
“You’re coming with us, mate,” said the guy with the tattoo. The other man, the one that resembled a bulldog, showed Dan that he had a gun hidden inside his jacket pocket. “And don’t try any funny business.”
As his eyes adjusted to the bright light Dan realised that the car was parked by the lighthouse, at the far end of the jetty, the boot angled so as to be well away from prying eyes. There was no one nearby to come to his rescue.
The men hauled him out of the boot and walked either side of him towards a fancy-looking yacht. Dan recognised it as the one he’d seen the men on before. As they pushed him up the gangplank, Dan caught a glimpse of the name painted on the side of the boat. Scarborough Fair.
Scarborough Fair (Scarborough Fair series Book 1) Page 22