‘Of course, I’d be glad to.’ Claire kept her tone light. ‘Come along, Mrs Reseigh. And we could prepare another tray and food for the men. They’ll be cold and wet. And towels. We’ll need lots of towels. And I’m sure Miss Tresaile and Miss Copeland will welcome the bathrooms being made ready for them.’
Christina silently worded, ‘Thank you,’ to Claire. Then out loud to Mrs Reseigh she said. ‘Yes, keeping busy is the thing to do.’
When the two had left, she and Evie peered through the binoculars again. They saw nothing but a hostile wintry land and seascape, and Christina gripped Evie’s hand.
* * *
Visibility on all sides was poor and unheeding but more so out over the bay. Jacob walked ahead of Ken, for the path in most places demanded single file, both men using the walking sticks that Christina had handed them for safety’s sake. They saw the woods only as a large shadowy shape of indistinct distance, looming behind the slanting sheet of rain. They had also brought with them rope, strung over Ken’s shoulder, and a silver flask of brandy. The wash of the sea below sounded hollow and eerie. Jacob’s hat was tied on with his scarf, and his skin stung from the freezing water dripping off the wool. His eyes shifted constantly from the muddy slippery ground, down and up and from side to side, as did Ken’s, for clues, for signs of the women’s whereabouts.
‘Beth! Kitty!’ The men shouted often, but the names were carried wilfully away by the wind that was buffeting and rocking them.
Every so often the men halted and peered through the hostile gloom and listened hard, but they saw and heard nothing save the booms and lashes of the harsh conditions. At the start Ken had said. ‘This just isn’t like them. If they had gone on to Porthellis and stayed there they would have phoned the house. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have stopped somewhere to wait in shelter but continued home. One of them must have had an accident and the other is staying put. We must look for signs of distress.’ Suddenly Jacob pointed to the ground and yelled, ‘Look there! A ladies glove, held fast by a stone.’
‘Wait,’ Ken grabbed hold of Jacob to prevent him picking up the glove. ‘See the way it lays? The thumb and three fingers are curled under. The forefinger is pointing towards the cliff edge.’ Leaning forward the men stared beyond the path edge and both saw the straight line of crushed foliage on the cliff’s descending surface. ‘No!’ Ken bawled. ‘Someone’s gone over.’ He made to scramble down but Jacob yanked him back.
‘Don’t be a fool man. We don’t want another accident. Look along the path. It’s a man’s scarf, Mark’s. He’s laid it flat and pointed the ends, another message. Is there a way down further on?’
‘Yes, several yards on there’s a place where a climb down can be made to the beach below but it’s very tricky, foolhardy in this weather. Mark might be trying to get down to it. There’s an old smuggler’s cave high up above the shoreline. There’s hope. Let’s get on.’
Long minutes later they covered those several yards. Jacob called out. ‘Yes! Just down there, it’s Grace! She’s been stationed there. You can see where Mark has climbed down.’ From under the inadequate shelter of a wind-vexed scrubby bush the saturated collie-cross barked and bounded and slithered up over the treacherous ground until she reached them.
‘Mark! Mark! Chaplin.’ Joining Grace’s excited barks the men yelled at the tops of their voices. While Grace fussed round their feet, Jacob ordered her to be quiet. The men listened praying they would hear Mark shout back but all they heard was the wash of the waters and the whistling of the tormenting wind.
‘Please don’t let Mark have fallen, but I doubt if he and even Chaplin could hear us,’ Jacob muttered through gritted teeth.
‘The tide’s turning,’ Ken said. ‘The beach will be more exposed. That’s good.’
‘I’m going down, but will use the rope. It will be safer and quicker than the usual climb which turns a lot,’ Jacob said. ‘You stay here with the dog, Ken. If I see anyone I’ll tug twice on the rope. If I tug thrice or you don’t see any sign of us in about half an hour hurry back and get more help. We must keep up our prayers.’
‘Right vicar, you be damned careful. If I was the younger man it would be me going down there. Beth’s my niece.’
Ken secured the rope around an immovable boulder then fed it round his waist. He had helped half a dozen cliff rescues over the years and swiftly tied the other end round Jacob’s waist. ‘Don’t worry,’ Jacob said grimly. ‘I’ve done rock climbing before. I’ll abseil down where I can.’
Although not a religious man Ken uttered, ‘God guide you. Take care, young man.’
First rubbing and beating on his cold limbs Jacob began the climb down and soon he was leaping out and downwards, passing Grace’s former place and in quick stages he reached the cliff overhang. He steadied himself and looked keenly below and up and down the slowly growing small stretch of beach. Yes! He could see Chaplin sitting high up on a rock near the cliff face, way back in the direction he and Ken had come from, as he’d been ordered to stay there. Thank God. It seemed Mark had discovered someone, hopefully both women, and needed help and had cleverly marked out the route for help. He looked up to Ken and motioned with one finger then pointed at Grace, indicating he had seen the other dog. Ken nodded and put up a thumb in recognition.
‘Chaplin!’ Jacob shouted, continuing with the abseil, having to swing in from the overhang to find firm rock with his boots. Part of the overhang of the cliff had been worn naturally away and if he sat on its edge and slid down his feet would soon land on rock, then there was a tricky clamber over more rocks. In a few careful leaps he reached the sand and shingle shore, just yards away. Chaplin had heard and seen him and was barking madly but he obediently stayed put. As fast as his cold aching legs allowed him to, Jacob ran towards Chaplin. He could make out a round blackness near to Chaplin, the old smugglers cave. Hope surged in Jacob’s chest. ‘Mark! Mark! Can you hear me? Have you found Beth and Miss Copeland?’
Seconds passed and then he saw a woolly head appear out of the blackness, and then Mark beckoned to him. ‘Vicar, up here. Thank God you’ve come.’
Clambering up Jacob crawled inside the cave entrance and found he could stand up if he kept his head bent down. Mark was there, shivering violently, soaked through, probably to the skin but he seemed strong and well. Jacob looked past him and saw two figures huddled together on the cave floor. ‘You’ve found them both! Praise God. Oh, it’s Miss Tresaile and…?’
‘Douglas Praed,’ Mark said. ‘He was sitting wanting to be alone at the cave entrance and saw Miss Tresaile falling into the sea. He dived in and rescued her. She was badly gashed on the leg and nearly drowned and he got dashed into the rocks hauling her out of the water. They’re both in a weak state. Douglas managed to tie up her leg tightly. He’s been here a lot lately and had brought a blanket down and food and he had a flask of hot tea. That has probably kept them going. I couldn’t get them up by myself, all I could do was to stay with them and keep them awake so they didn’t succumb to the hypothermia in the wait for help.’
Jacob only got a glimpse of the grey faces, both blinking uncomprehending from the wrapped confines of the blanket. ‘I’ve brought brandy and I came down here by rope. Ken Tresaile’s up top. It’s going to be difficult but let’s get them up and home. Has Miss Tresaile mentioned if Miss Copeland went to get help for her? She still hadn’t turned up when Ken and I left Owles House.’
Mark gazed down on the woman, still in Douglas’s arms from when he had brought her here and tried to keep her warm. Her blue eyes did not blink or waver. He stooped to lift her up. ‘No, she hasn’t said a word to Douglas or me. He’s past talking now. We need to act fast. As for Miss Copeland, if she’s got lost I’m afraid the rain will have washed away all traces of her scent. The dogs certainly weren’t on to her.’
Twenty-One
Late that night an urgent knocking brought Joe to the back door. Swinging it open, he called eagerly, ‘Kitty? Oh!’
‘S’only m
e, Master Joe,’ Gabby bleated, as wild looking as the weather. She had Tickle up in her arms, both sheltered under a long waterproof hooded cape. ‘Don’t shut the door in me face. Saw all the lights on. So it’s true that Miss Beth went missing and was found hurt? I’d like to know, you see, Miss Beth was some kind to me the other day.’
‘I’m afraid it’s true. Come inside, Miss Magor. We’re all wide awake, except for my sister. She hasn’t stirred since she managed to sip a little soup.’
Entering the back kitchen, Gabby shrugged off the cape and stepped out of her muddy rubber boots. Her stockinged feet smelled rank but Joe couldn’t care less about that. ‘So she’s not too bad then? Going to be all right?’
‘Come into the kitchen. My mother is in there making hot cocoa. Join us. You can bring Tickle.’
‘Very civil of ’ee.’ Gabby sniffed back her sopping nose. ‘Always said you were a nice young man, our future squire in a sense. Any news of Miss Copeland yet?’
‘No.’ Joe heaved a mighty fretful sigh. ‘It’s a complete mystery about what’s happened to her. People have been asked to check their outhouses and sheds. We’re desperate. Do you have any ideas, Miss Magor? Another one for cocoa, Mum. I’ll fetch another mug. And put some water and biscuits down for Tickle.’
‘Good of you to let me into your fine home, Mrs Vyvyan,’ Gabby rasped, glancing round in amazement at the room, her hooded eyes twinkling at each modern appliance, like the refrigerator and the pieces of fine china on the dressers. Chaplin lifted his regal head and sniffed curiously at Tickle. Grace was down flat on all fours whining for her mistress, her great brown eyes clearly saddened the newcomer wasn’t her. ‘’Fraid I got no idea about Miss Copeland but I’ve been looking out, all round my place and anywhere else I can think of since I heard the news. Bleddy awful. Oh, ’scuse my mouth.’
‘Do sit down, Miss Magor.’ Christina used the same welcoming tones as she would any other visitor. The woman was a nuisance and long ago she had mocked Christina over her mental breakdown, but Beth had suddenly taken to her, and Gabby was a local who knew the area through and through and Christina did not want to discourage her from continuing with the search for Kitty. ‘Help yourself to biscuits. We’ve spent a lot of time in here. It’s cosier somehow. The search has been suspended until daybreak. We’re praying that Kitty has found safe refuge somewhere.’
‘Yeh, she’s a clever woman,’ Gabby said, warming her big calloused paws round the mug.
‘Yes,’ Christina agreed absently. No one wanted to say that now the hue and cry had been sounded up and down the coast that the local shores would be searched during the next few days for a body. Then, with tearful emotion, ‘I’ve informed her brother. Mr Copeland is coming down on the night train. My poor daughter hasn’t been able to say a word so far, so I can’t offer him an explanation about the accident as of yet. I shall be going up to her again in a moment. Mrs Reseigh is with her now. She is going to stay overnight.’
‘So, Douglas Praed’s gone from villain to hero? Who’d have thought that?’ Gabby said, spitting out crumbs on the whole digestive biscuit she had rammed into her cavernous mouth.
‘Thank God he saw Beth’s fall or she surely would have been lost. After the doctor had checked him over, Mr Praed, who had brought Douglas dry clothes, took him home. Thank goodness Mark found Douglas and Beth or they might have slipped away into unconsciousness and we might have lost them both that way.’
‘Vicar and Ken must have had a job getting ’em up the cliff and carrying ’em here.’ Gabby gurned in appreciation at the biscuit, took a gulp of cocoa, burped loudly and snatched up another biscuit. ‘Good strong men though. I heard Miss Beth’s got a badly cut leg. That going to be all right?’
Joe lifted up scruffy little Tickle who had wolfed down his food and had come to scrabble up his leg. He tickled the mite under his pointed chin and Tickle licked Joe’s hand. ‘It’s a deep graze, from shin to knee. It will have to be carefully dressed and might leave a scar. Poor Beth was terribly knocked about in the sea. Her recovery will take a few weeks after her ordeal. Some people think she should be in hospital, but Dr Powell believes like my mother, that she will do better being carefully nursed at home. He and the District Nurse will be calling regularly.’ For the first time since hearing the shock news Joe allowed tears to edge his eyes. ‘If only we knew why Kitty just disappeared. Douglas Praed is convinced only Beth fell into the sea. Gabby, you know the area like the back of your hand, will you help in the search tomorrow?’
‘Goes without saying, Master Joe. Rain or no rain I’ll track her down.’
* * *
A piercing scream from the top floor of the vicarage woke Jacob out of his doze where he was still sitting up in his study. He raced up the two flights of stairs and found Winifred crumpled on the landing floor, below a small window, and the other servants emerging from their rooms in their nightclothes, the cook holding a lighted candle. ‘What is it, Winifred? Were you sleepwalking?’ He lifted her gently to her feet and kept his hold on her for she was shaking.
‘N–no sir. Out there,’ she pointed to the window. ‘I couldn’t sleep. Then I heard these noises, like tapping and scratching. At first I thought a cat might have got inside and was chasing a mouse, so I got up to look. Then I realized it was coming from outside. So I peeped out and I saw it, a ghost! A monster! Like something evil come up out of the grave.’
‘Don’t be silly girl,’ the cook scolded. ‘You had cheese for supper, that’s all it was. A nightmare. Then you found yourself out here and got scared.’
‘Calm yourself, Winifred,’ Jacob said kindly, frowning at the scornful cook. ‘It was probably only a wild animal. To settle your fright I’ll go down and take a look.’
‘Oooo, be careful, Reverend. I know I wasn’t dreaming and I swear I saw something larger than an animal.’
Jacob lifted up the window and peered through the oppressive darkness. The rain had stopped but the air was murky and heavy with the odour of wet dead leaves and earth. He detected nothing moving. He closed the window and marched off down the stairs, the cluster of servants creeping after him.
Switching on the porch lights and unlocking and pulling open the arched front door Jacob stepped outside. He looked straight ahead. ‘Hello, is anyone there?’ He groaned inwardly. Why had he used the standard seance question? Ghost? Monster? Poppycock. There was nothing but the gravel drive and lawn and then the trees beyond them.
A scattering sound followed by a low moan made his heart leap against his ribs and every last hair on the nape of his neck stood up stiffly. ‘Holy God, protect me.’
‘Ugh!’ Something touched his foot and he leapt backwards.
‘Uh, uh, uh…’
What was that ungodly noise? Nervously Jacob looked down. Just in front of him was a strangely lumpy shape.
‘What is it, Reverend, an injured animal? Be careful, it might be savage.’ It was Mrs Morcombe. The shape lifted up and the housekeeper was sent screaming fit to burst her lungs. ‘It’s a demon straight from hell. Get inside, lock the door!’
For a second Jacob was petrified to the spot, staring down at what seemed like glazed orbs in a dirt-smeared indefinable contour. Then his senses returned in full. ‘Miss Copeland!’ And he was reaching down and his outstretched arms bypassed Kitty’s imploring arms and he picked her up and had her limp body within his grasp. He nearly knocked over the dithering Mrs Morcombe as he swept Kitty into the house.
He carried her into the drawing room, still lit by the embers in the hearth, and set her down on the sofa. ‘Lights, towels, hot water, Dr Powell,’ Jacob ordered strongly but softly so as not to alarm Kitty. His mouth went dry when he realized she was staring into nothingness. He could only think some instinct had drawn her here, to a place of safety.
‘Oh, our dear Lord,’ Mrs Morcombe fussed over his shoulder, after lighting the room. ‘She’s lagged in earth, she must have fallen down a hole, poor lady. All will be done, Reverend. I’ll make the call
to the doctor.’
‘Then call Owles House. Even if Mrs Vyvyan has managed to sleep she will want to be awakened and be informed straight away.’
When alone, Jacob rubbed Kitty’s wrists. ‘Hold on, Miss Copeland, all will be well. Miss Tresaile – Beth – is alive and well. I hope you can understand me.’
Kitty moved her filthy head on the cushions. Her hair stuck out in muddy tats. Her gritty eyes met his but Jacob could not be certain she recognized him. ‘B-Beth…’ Her voice was raw and did not sound quite human, but Jacob was relieved she knew her friend’s name.
‘She’s been rescued Kitty.’ He soothingly caressed her scratched cheek. ‘You have nothing to worry about. The doctor will be here soon to attend you. If you are well enough tomorrow to travel to Owles House you can make your recovery together.’
‘No,’ Kitty whimpered shaking her head in dire agitation. She grasped Jacob’s hand, digging in with her sharp broken nails. ‘Never, never! I want to stay here. See no one, not ever. Promise me!’
‘Very well, I promise. Now all you need to do is rest. Your brother is on the way down to Cornwall. He will be so relieved you have turned up.’
‘No, no, no!’ Kitty’s frenzy started up again. ‘Not him, never see him again. Promise! Promise me or I’ll leave, I swear.’
‘You have my word as a man of God. No one but myself, the doctor and a maid will see you. Now rest, rest Kitty. All will be well.’
With his vow claimed, she fell into a stupor. Jacob held her hand firmly, his expression deeply troubled to have witnessed such terrible distress. It was obvious something gravely untoward had happened to, or between, the two friends up on the cliffs. Why had they ventured out denying the usual company of the dogs? Had one of them something critical on her mind and had needed to share it? Jacob was faced with giving sanctuary to Kitty Copeland and he did not mind that at all, but he would be called on to convince her friends and her brother that on no account, at least for now, did she wish to see them.
Reflections Page 18