The Golden Anklet

by Beverly Hansford

  By the time she had finished with Anna she felt too tired to make herself a proper meal. She ate a boiled egg and some fruit she had bought in a mini-market on her way home. She made herself a mug of tea and took it into the lounge and relaxed on the settee. She was going over the events of the day again when Bob telephoned. They chatted for half an hour or so and then she returned to the settee and her pondering.

  She woke with a start some time later to find the room deep in darkness. Half asleep, she crawled into the bathroom and then her bed.

  *

  The following day Jane woke up feeling refreshed and ready to deal with things. She set off for work early and had her first shock of the day when she arrived at the station. She was headline news – or rather Miles Ashington and his son Ray were. The newspapers were full of the story, including a few somewhat exaggerated accounts of Jane’s captivity. Some of the other details were also incorrect. Some newspapers referred to her as Ruth Ashington and others as Jane Carroll. She smiled briefly at one article that incorrectly described her as the editor of Discerning Woman. She wondered what Annette would think of that.

  Outside the office she encountered the reporters again, their ranks now swelled to four. Questions were fired at her. ‘How are you feeling now, Jane?’ ‘Have you talked with Miles Ashington since his arrest?’ ‘What will you do with the legacy?’ Jane managed to evade their persistence and reach the security of her office. The rest of the staff came in armed with newspapers and crowded round her, anxious to discuss this new angle. They too had been bombarded by the reporters, who were hoping that one of them might disclose some titbit of information that so far had not reached the media.

  Jane was interrupted several times during the day by telephone calls from eager newspapers that wanted to buy her story and have an exclusive account of her abduction and imprisonment. She managed to discourage the offers with an explanation that she had no plans to do this at present. Meanwhile she had to work through the pile of papers on her desk. Annette only contacted her once, and that was first thing, to enquire how she felt now, but for the rest of the day she appeared to be busy with visitors and Jane was able to get through some of her work without interruption. By the end of the day she was tired but she was pleased with her efforts.

  The rest of the working week passed fairly smoothly. Though for the first few days she was glad when it was time to go home, she was now feeling much more like her old self. She had heard no more from the police and after a few days the newspapers had other stories to occupy their front pages. The throng of reporters started to reduce as it became apparent that there was nothing more to be gleaned from Jane. She still got the odd telephone call out of the blue from a newspaper or magazine seeking an interview, but these too eventually dwindled to nothing.

  It was on the Thursday of that first week, as Jane was leaving to go home, that she received a very different telephone call. She was just walking past the reception desk on her way out of the office, when Margaret stopped her. ‘Jane, I’ve got that Mrs Barton on the phone asking for you. She seems very agitated. She keeps saying she must speak to you.’ She looked at Jane, seeking instruction.

  Jane smiled at her. ‘OK, Margaret. I’ll take the call in my office.’

  She returned to her desk and picked up the phone. A second or two later there was the sound of Margaret’s voice. ‘You’re through.’

  Jane answered the call. ‘Jane Carroll speaking.’

  There was a flustered voice at the other end of the line. ‘This is Elizabeth Barton.’

  ‘Hello, Elizabeth. It’s nice to hear from you.’

  ‘I need to see you. I want to tell you something.’

  ‘I’d love to see you again,’ replied Jane cheerfully.

  ‘I must see you as soon as possible. Can you come tomorrow?’ Elizabeth sounded very anxious.

  Jane thought quickly. She didn’t want to take any more time off work. She and Bob had nothing fixed for Saturday. She didn’t know if Bob would be working Saturday morning. He spent a lot of time in London now as he and Jeff got their new business under way. But if necessary she could go on her own.

  ‘How about Saturday morning at about half past ten?’

  ‘Yes, yes, any time. I’ve got to see you.’ Elizabeth’s distress was now quite evident.

  Jane felt concerned. ‘Can you tell me now?’ she asked kindly.

  ‘No, no. I’ve got to see you.’ Elizabeth’s voice was quite firm.

  ‘OK. I’ll come and see you on Saturday, then,’ Jane replied softly.

  ‘Thank you, Jane.’ Elizabeth sounded a bit happier. She suddenly asked. ‘I can call you Jane, can’t I?’

  ‘Of course you can,’ said Jane immediately. She added cheerfully, ‘Although of course, considering recent events, perhaps you should be calling me Ruth.’

  There was silence for a few seconds at the other end of the telephone. Then Elizabeth spoke again, her voice full of misery. ‘But that’s just the problem,’ she almost whimpered. There was another pause, and then she announced more clearly, ‘You are not Ruth Ashington.’

  Chapter 52

  Jane tried to take in what Elizabeth had just said. After almost a week of trying to accept the idea that she was Ruth Ashington, in just a few seconds here was somebody telling her something different.

  She struggled to find words to reply with. ‘But… but if I am not Ruth Ashington, who am I?’

  Elizabeth was clearly in a very anxious state. ‘I’ve got to see you. I have to tell you something I should have told you before,’ she gabbled.

  Jane took a deep breath. She knew she would have to tread carefully to glean anything.

  ‘Can’t you tell me over the telephone?’ she asked softly.

  ‘I’ve got to see you and tell you things.’ Elizabeth’s voice was quite agitated now.

  Jane was about to try another tack, but Elizabeth spoke again. ‘The police have been here asking questions. I should have told them, but I didn’t. I don’t know what to do, but I must see you and tell you.’ Her voice trailed off to almost a whimper.

  Jane could see that she wasn’t going to make any further headway over the telephone. She would have to go and see Elizabeth.

  She tried to adopt a soothing voice. ‘It’s OK, Elizabeth. We can talk about it on Saturday.’

  Elizabeth seemed to accept the renewed suggestion immediately. ‘Yes, yes. Please come.’

  Jane breathed a sigh of relief. ‘That’s fine, then. I’ll come and see you on Saturday at about half past ten and we can have a nice chat, and in the meantime don’t worry. I’m sure everything can be sorted out.’

  ‘Oh, yes. Thank you.’ Elizabeth’s reply was more positive.

  ‘So I’ll see you on Saturday at about half past ten,’ reiterated Jane.

  ‘Half past ten. Yes. Goodbye, Jane…’ Elizabeth’s voice trailed off.

  ‘Bye for now, and don’t worry,’ Jane called out. But Elizabeth had gone.

  Jane replaced the handset. Elizabeth’s call worried her. Surely there couldn’t be another twist in events, but Elizabeth was certainly in a stressed state over something important. No doubt she would find out on Saturday what it was all about. In the meantime all she could do was wait and wonder.

  She made her way home, still deep in thought. As she neared her apartment block, she encountered Gerald going the same way, and they walked back together. She was still so preoccupied with Elizabeth’s telephone call that she felt she had to tell Gerald what had happened. As usual he was interested in this new development, but he was unable to suggest what it might be all about. He insisted that Jane let him know the details after she had been to see Elizabeth.

  Jane left him outside his and Anna’s apartment and climbed the last flight of stairs to her own. She had hardly had time to change when her phone rang. It was Anna inviting her to supper. For once Jane caved in. She was a bit tired and was not relishing the thought of having to prepare a meal. She joined her neighbours for a meal of spagh
etti bolognese. They chatted about Elizabeth’s phone call in between Anna fussing over Jane, telling her not to do too much and asking about her injuries.

  The time was heading for nine before Jane managed to return to her own apartment, explaining that she wanted to phone Bob and tell him the latest news.

  Bob answered his phone immediately, and Jane couldn’t wait to relate the day’s events. Bob was unable to throw any new light on the subject of Elizabeth’s announcement. He promised to join Jane early on the Saturday morning to accompany her to Elizabeth’s house.

  *

  Friday turned out to be a particularly busy day at work, and on top of that, realising that she would not have time on the Saturday morning, Jane had booked a Friday evening appointment at the hairdresser’s. Immediately after leaving the salon, she visited the supermarket to do some shopping, and it was well after eight by the time she returned to her apartment. Preparing a meal and doing a few household jobs took up the rest of the evening, and it had turned eleven before she finally got to bed.

  The next morning she woke up with a shock to find it was nearly eight o’clock. Bob had said he would be there around nine! She flew out of bed and into the bathroom. Despite the rush, she was ready and waiting, neatly dressed in a pink blouse and casual trousers, when the outside buzzer sounded to announce Bob’s arrival.

  As soon as he entered her hallway Jane threw her arms round him and kissed him.

  ‘Darling, it’s marvellous you’re here.’ She planted another kiss on his lips.

  They eventually released each other and Jane headed for the kitchen. ‘I’m getting us some coffee,’ she announced over her shoulder.

  Bob followed her. ‘Good. Just what the doctor ordered.’ He grinned as he sat down at the table.

  Jane was busy with two mugs. She made a face at him. ‘I actually overslept,’ she confessed.

  ‘How did your first week back at work really go?’ asked Bob.

  Jane paused, the kettle in her hand. She smiled at him. ‘Not bad at all. Much better than I expected, despite it being a bit busy at times.’ She swiftly thought of something else to say. ‘And the bruising has improved a hundred per cent.’ She turned her injured cheek towards him.

  ‘I’ve seen that,’ he replied. ‘It’s looking much better than when I saw you on Monday.’

  ‘And the marks on my wrists and ankles are fading as well,’ Jane announced cheerfully.

  ‘Good. I don’t like to see you marked.’ Bob gave her another grin.

  ‘How’s your week been?’ asked Jane over her shoulder as she poured the coffee.

  ‘The new project has really taken off. It looks as if we’ll have to employ some extra help.’

  ‘Oh, that’s great!’ exclaimed Jane, placing a mug of coffee in front of him. She sat down at the table. She suddenly thought of something else to add to her news. ‘I think that new role for me at work is going to come off. You know – me being assistant editor.’

  Bob took a sip of coffee. ‘Good for you. Go for it,’ he enthused.

  They chatted over their coffee, talking about their work activities. At one point, during a brief lull in the conversation, Bob stifled a yarn. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

  Jane grinned. ‘You were up early. I was up late. That means I do the driving. No arguments,’ she responded, laughing.

  *

  Jane kept her word and drove the car to Elizabeth’s house. At the start of the journey she was quite cheerful and chatted endlessly about a host of things while Bob listened and commented here and there. As they drew near to their destination she became less buoyant, and anxiety started to cloud over her.

  She voiced her concern to Bob. ‘I’m getting a bit worried. I’m just wondering what Elizabeth wants to tell me.’

  Bob did his best to reassure her. ‘I feel pretty confident that after all you’ve been through in the last few months, you’ll be able to deal with whatever it is.’

  Jane gave a chuckle. ‘I do hope so,’ she replied.

  It was almost half past ten when she turned the BMW into Tipton Street. She managed to find a parking space almost outside Elizabeth’s house. Bob was out of the car immediately. Jane followed more slowly. Now they had arrived, pangs of anxiety were starting to stab at her again.

  They walked up the tiled garden path, Bob in front of Jane. He gave several raps on the door knocker. It seemed a long time before anything happened. He was just about to try again when the door opened.

  It was Beth Browne, Elizabeth’s neighbour, who stood there. She smiled at them. ‘Hello. Come in.’

  Jane greeted her and shook hands and then introduced Bob.

  ‘Elizabeth’s waiting for you in the sitting room,’ explained Beth, leading the way. She halted briefly and whispered to Jane, ‘She’s in an awful state about something. It was me who persuaded her to telephone you.’

  Jane had no time to reply before Beth opened the door of the sitting room.

  Elizabeth Barton rose to greet them as they entered. She held out her hand to Jane. ‘It’s nice to see you again. I’m so glad you’ve come.’

  On the spur of the moment Jane gave her a hug. ‘I’m happy to be here,’ she replied cheerfully. She quickly introduced Bob, and Elizabeth gave him a limp handshake.

  ‘Do sit down. I must get you a cup of tea,’ said Elizabeth, but clearly her mind was on something else.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ Beth was already turning to leave the room.

  ‘No, no. I must help you,’ Elizabeth insisted.

  Jane and Bob were left alone in the old-fashioned room. They sat together on the settee, silently looking round at all the trimmings from a past age. It was a good four or five minutes before Elizabeth and Beth returned bearing tea and cakes. It took a further few minutes for everybody to be served.

  It was at this point that Jane raised the matter in hand. Holding her cup and saucer on her lap, she addressed their host. ‘Elizabeth, you said on the phone that you wanted to see me and that it was something to do with my not being Ruth Ashington. Could you explain a bit more?’

  Elizabeth was clearly extremely stressed. Her tea rested on a side table untouched. She clasped a handkerchief in her hand, toying with it constantly as she responded to Jane’s question. There was a pause before she spoke. ‘Yes, I have to tell you about it. I should have done so when you were here before. Now I feel so bad about everything. It’s all my sister’s fault…’ Her voice trailed off as if that was all she was going to say.

  Jane tried to help her. In a soft voice she asked, ‘Do you mean Mrs Marshall, who was in charge of Goodmanton Orphanage when I was there?’

  Elizabeth shook her head. ‘No. Susan became part of it later. It was Evelyn who started it all.’

  ‘That’s your sister in Australia?’ Jane asked gently.

  ‘Yes,’ was all Elizabeth replied. She was still playing with her handkerchief and she looked completely miserable.

  Jane could see that she was going to have to prompt her all the way. ‘Can you tell us a little bit more about Evelyn?’ she asked, hoping that what she wanted to know would come out in the process.

  Her strategy appeared to work. Elizabeth suddenly seemed to be a bit more ready to talk. She looked at Jane and Bob as she spoke. ‘Evelyn was the cleverest of all of us three girls. She trained as a dentist and was very good at her job. She got a good position with a practice in Bristol.’ She paused yet again.

  ‘And what happened then?’ Jane asked softly.

  Elizabeth took a sip of her tea for the first time. ‘She went to Australia for a holiday. While she was there she met Danny, who was apparently quite high up in politics. Evelyn told me she was very attracted to him and got on very well with him.’

  ‘So she stayed in Australia?’

  Elizabeth shook her head. ‘No. She came back here and went back to work, but she kept in touch with Danny. She planned to go back to Australia and marry him. That’s when it happened.’

  ‘What happened?’

 
‘She was still seeing an old boyfriend of hers. And then she became pregnant.’ Elizabeth paused for a second as if to let this sink in, and then she continued, her voice stronger now. ‘I never liked the man. He was a rogue if ever there was one, but at the time Evelyn was stupid and careless. I tried to tell her not to see him, but she was very stubborn. She wouldn’t listen to me.’

  ‘What did Evelyn say when she found out she was pregnant?’ asked Beth.

  Elizabeth looked first at Beth, and then at Jane. She seemed happier to talk now. ‘She was devastated. She didn’t know what to do. At one stage she was going to have an abortion, but then she decided to have the baby.’

  ‘What about the fellah who got her pregnant?’ asked Beth.

  Elizabeth sniffed in disgust. ‘He refused to have anything to do with it. He always claimed the child wasn’t his, which wasn’t true. Eventually he disappeared, and later on he ended up in prison.’

  The truth was beginning to glimmer for Jane. ‘Was I that baby?’ she asked.

  Elizabeth tried to smile at her. ‘Yes, dear. You were.’

  Jane was silent for a few seconds. She was doing her best to take in what she had just heard. At long last she had the truth. But she knew there must be more, and now she was determined to find out whatever that might be. ‘So Evelyn is my mother, but how did I become Ruth Ashington?’

  The question seemed to upset Elizabeth again. She clutched her handkerchief as if for comfort. She looked up at Jane with tears in her eyes. ‘It was all my fault. I should never have done it…’ Her voice trailed off in misery.

  Jane suddenly got up and moved over to her. She bent over and put her arm round her. ‘It’s all right, Elizabeth,’ she said softly. She waited a few seconds and then asked soothingly, ‘Can you tell me what happened then?’