‘I don’t know who it is, Miss Grace,’ she said in a hushed voice. ‘I heard a knock on the door an’ when I opened it this bloke barged in demandin’ to see yer dad.’
‘Oh well.’ Grace yawned. ‘I’m sure Father will sort him out. Is there a cup of tea going? There’s not much point going back to bed now.’
Mabel smiled. ‘Come through to the kitchen. We’ll soon get you sorted.’
As Grace had still not fully regained her appetite, both Mabel and Mrs Batley were always only too pleased to oblige when she wanted anything to eat or drink.
Mrs Batley was sitting at the table enjoying a tea break. The smell of bacon hung on the air as she had already served the master his breakfast and he had been just about to leave for work when his visitor had arrived.
‘So, what’s goin’ on out there then?’ She cocked her head towards the door and Mabel shrugged.
‘Haven’t got a clue but the chap that barged in looked a right nasty piece o’ work. Soon as the master saw him he grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him off into his study. They’re still there now an’ it sounds like they’re havin’ a right old ding-dong!’ Then remembering Grace was just behind her she said hurriedly, ‘Sit yerself down, pet, an’ I’ll fetch you a cup.’
She had barely finished pouring the tea when the master appeared in the kitchen doorway, his face red with rage. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Grace sitting there but then told Mabel curtly, ‘Prepare the spare bedroom. We have a guest who will be staying. When it’s ready show him up there.’
‘A guest? For how long?’ Mrs Batley asked. After hearing the raised voices, she was shocked to discover that the visitor would be staying.
‘Just for a few days,’ Jacob answered, clearly none too pleased with the idea. Then directing his attention to Grace, he asked, ‘And what are you doing in here in a state of undress? I suggest you go upstairs and make yourself presentable as soon as possible.’
It was so unusual for her father to be annoyed with her that Grace looked shocked before muttering, ‘I’m hardly in a state of undress, Father, I have my dressing robe on.’
He gentled his tone. ‘Even so, while we have our guest staying I would ask that you present yourself respectably.’
‘Yes, Father.’
Jacob turned on his heel and marched from the room just as Harry appeared to take him to the station.
‘What’s wrong wi’ him today?’ he asked. ‘Get out the wrong side o’ the bed, did he?’
‘You tell me,’ Mrs Batley grumbled. ‘It appears we have a guest stayin’ so I shall have to send Mabel out for some more shoppin’ today.’
With a shrug, Harry left and after draining her cup, Grace rose from the table. ‘I’d better go and get dressed.’
‘Yes, pet, might be as well,’ Mrs Batley agreed.
Harry and her father had just left when Grace entered the hallway to find a man there puffing away on a cigar. He eyed her appreciatively up and down and Grace squirmed uncomfortably.
‘Well, hello there, little lady, and ain’t you a pretty little girl, eh?’ The man stuck his hand out but Grace chose to ignore it. ‘The name’s Charlie Biggs,’ he went on, nonplussed. ‘I knew Jacob had a daughter but he never mentioned what a little beaut you are.’
Mabel bustled towards her then and seeing how uncomfortable Grace looked she took her hand protectively, saying, ‘Come on, pet. I’ll see yer to yer room.’ She eyed the visitor disdainfully. ‘An’ I suggest you take a seat in the drawin’ room, sir, while I get yer room ready.’
He flashed her a charming smile. ‘O’ course, me dear. I don’t mind takin’ the weight off me feet for a while.’ He headed off, leaving a trail of ash in his wake and Mabel tutted with annoyance.
‘Let’s just hope he won’t be stayin’ fer long,’ she commented as she ushered Grace ahead of her up the stairs. ‘He looks like trouble to me.’
Grace nodded in agreement, wondering what her mother was going to make of their new house guest.
It was later that evening when Grace found out. They were seated at the dining-room table and after dabbing her lips with her napkin, Madeline asked tentatively, ‘How long is your guest likely to be staying, Jacob?’ The person in question had wolfed his meal down then headed off for the nearest pub.
Jacob had the good grace to look slightly uncomfortable. ‘Not for long. I have a little business to conclude with him and then hopefully he’ll be on his way.’ He hadn’t at all liked the way Charlie had stared at Grace throughout the meal and could she have known it he was just as keen as Madeline to see the back of him.
‘Good. I really don’t like the thought of that type of person being under the same roof as my daughter!’ She rose from the table without another word and left.
Charlie was still there three days later when Aunt Gertie phoned Madeline to check on Grace’s progress and when Madeline told her about their unwelcome house guest she came up with a solution to get Grace out of his way.
‘Why don’t you let her come to me to finish her convalescence?’ she suggested. ‘The sea air would do her the power of good and if this man is half as horrible as you say he is, I dare say Grace will be pleased to get away from him. I’m shocked that Jacob would even entertain his sort knowing what a snob he is!’
Madeline paused. She supposed Aunt Gertie was right although she hated the thought of losing Grace again, even if it was only for a little while. But then only that morning she had discovered Charlie Biggs holding a tiny bit of mistletoe he had found left over from Christmas trying to kiss Grace in the hall, and it had made her feel nauseous. She had advanced on him with a strength she hadn’t known she still had and snapped, ‘How dare you, sir! Please keep your hands to yourself!’
‘I were only havin’ a bit o’ fun,’ Charlie had said sullenly as she hauled Grace away to the drawing room. She was absolutely fuming. He was an obnoxious little man, almost as round as he was high with a penchant for gaudy suits and waistcoats. His hair, which was thinning and badly in need of a cut, was always plastered flat to his head with Macassar oil and his crooked teeth were yellow and decaying. Jacob appeared to dislike him almost as much as she did so she could only assume he was still there because Charlie had something on him. Perhaps getting Grace away, at least until he was gone, would be a good thing.
‘I’ll ask her how she feels about the idea,’ she promised her aunt.
When her mother asked her if she’d like to go to Wales, Grace had mixed feelings. Half of her longed to go back to Sarn Bach, she had been so happy there, but the other half of her was still mourning Myfanwy and she knew it could never be the same without her. But then she detested Charlie Biggs. He was always trying to touch her – just like her father did – when they were alone and she’d taken to staying in her room throughout the day just to keep out of his way.
‘I’ll go,’ she said.
Now all Madeline had to do was inform Jacob and make the necessary arrangements. When Madeline told him, Jacob was none too pleased at the thought of Grace going, but until Charlie Biggs left, he felt he didn’t have much choice so he had reluctantly agreed.
Chapter Twenty
On a bitterly cold morning late in January, Harry and Grace set off for the train station with Grace muffled up to the eyeballs in warm clothes. Madeline was tearful as she waved them off from the door but Grace was tickled to see the way Mabel had pecked Harry on the cheek before they left and the way Harry flushed and grinned.
‘Take good care of her, Harry,’ Madeline shouted.
Harry nodded. ‘O’ course I will, Mrs Kettle. Yer need have no worries on that score.’
Soon they were on the train and Grace was shocked at how tired she was already. However, she managed to stay awake until they had changed trains in Birmingham and then within minutes of being settled in their carriage she fell fast asleep and didn’t wake again until they drew into the station at Pwllheli.
‘I didn’t like to disturb you,’ Harry told her as he helped
her down onto the platform. ‘But you must be starving hungry now.’
‘I’m all right,’ Grace answered as she knuckled the sleep from her eyes and peered up and down for a sign of Mr Llewelyn. And there he was, striding towards them with a smile on his face. She thought he looked older and despite his smile his eyes were sad, but then she supposed he too was probably still grieving for Myfanwy.
‘Why, cariad, it’s so good to see you,’ he greeted her, although secretly he was thinking how frail she looked. ‘Now come along. The trap is outside and it’s keen I am to get you home and out of the cold. I can smell snow in the air.’
This time as the horse jogged along Grace recognised places she had visited with Myfanwy the summer before last and the memories were bittersweet as tears pricked at the back of her eyes.
It was getting dark but luckily Aled Llewelyn knew these roads like the back of his hand and at last he drew the horse to a halt outside Beehive Cottage and swung Grace down from the trap. Grace could smell the salt in the air and hear the waves thundering onto the beach in the distance and she was suddenly glad she’d come.
‘You two get away in now while I go and get the horse settled in his stable,’ Mr Llewelyn told them kindly. ‘I believe my Cerys has a nice dish of stew and dumplings all ready and waiting for you.’
Harry smiled at him gratefully, then taking Grace’s hand in one of his, he lifted her case with the other and propelled her towards the cottage door. There was a bitterly cold wind blowing and Grace’s teeth were chattering so she was grateful when the door suddenly opened and Mrs Llewelyn and Aunt Gertie appeared and hurried her inside.
‘Why, your poor little nose is glowing red,’ Mrs Llewelyn declared as she pushed her gently towards the roaring fire in the kitchen. Aunt Gertie meanwhile stood by watching. She had never been a great one for being openly affectionate but her smile said it all.
She was clad in her usual outlandish clothes: an old shirt and ill-fitting trousers with her hair tied back simply in a ribbon. ‘I’ll take your case up to your room,’ she told Grace. ‘Cerys lit a fire in there for you so it should be nice and warm.’
Grace nodded as she held her hands out to the fire. It was strange, she thought, that she could almost sense Myfanwy’s presence.
At that moment, back in Nuneaton, Jacob was facing his house guest across his desk. ‘You’re telling me that you need yet more money, Biggs? But I only gave you five pounds a couple of days ago. And may I ask exactly how much longer you are planning on staying?’
‘Hmm, now that all depends.’ Charlie made a great show of examining his fingernails. ‘See, the thing is, until I’ve got enough in me pocket to find some decent digs in London, I’m stuck here, ain’t I? I mean … yer wouldn’t want to see me out on the streets, now, would yer? I don’t think you’d like me to message yer little wife either, especially if it were like the one I sent you. I reckon it’d scare her.’
Jacob’s nostrils flared. ‘You do know this is blackmail, don’t you?’ he spat as he stared at Charlie with loathing.
Charlie chuckled. ‘Now, don’t be like that, me old son. You an’ me should stick together. We’re cut from the same cloth, see? Shall I say … we both share the same little … fetishes? It would never do if it were to come out what a respectable pillar o’ the community did in his spare time, would it? An’ just think what it would do to your wife an’ daughter. She’s a tasty little piece, that Grace!’
Jacob’s heart lurched. ‘How much?’ he ground out from between clenched teeth.
‘Let me see now.’ Charlie tapped his lip as if he was in deep thought, enjoying the power he had over the man. ‘I reckon a hundred quid would keep me goin’ fer quite some time.’
‘A hundred?’ Jacob was visibly shocked. ‘But I don’t keep that sort of money in the house.’
‘Then how about you give me another fiver for tonight an’ get the rest out o’ the bank tomorrer? I’ll be gone out o’ your hair quick as a flash then.’
Jacob gulped before withdrawing his wallet from his pocket and extracting five one-pound notes. He held them out wordlessly and Charlie snatched them and stuffed them into his own pocket. Jacob just wanted to see the back of this despicable character. He’d been on tenterhooks ever since he’d arrived.
‘And if I give you this hundred pounds, will that be an end to it?’
Charlie sniffed. ‘I should think so … for now. But the pub’s callin’ me, so I’ll be off. Ta-ra, see you later an’ don’t forget to tell Mabel to make the fire in me room up fer when I get back. I’m getting’ quite fond o’ me home comforts, though I’d like ’em even more if I had a nice tasty little piece like your daughter tucked in at the side o’ me! We likes ’em young, don’t we, Jacob!’ He swung from the room whistling merrily as Jacob stared up at the ceiling. Things were going from bad to worse and he felt there was only one option left open to him now.
The front door had no sooner closed than Jacob peeped out into the hallway. It was deserted so, grabbing his coat, he stealthily left the house and began to follow his unwelcome guest.
Much, much later that evening, Jacob watched as Biggs staggered out of the Fleur de Lys pub. He was swaying dangerously and singing loudly. Jacob cursed from his hiding place behind a tree. Why couldn’t the bloody fool be quiet! The last thing he wanted was for the bloke to draw attention to himself. He set off after him, keeping a safe distance, his teeth chattering with cold and his hands and feet so chilled that he could hardly feel them. Biggs swayed beneath the Coton Arches then veered off across the field leading to Riversley Park. Jacob smiled into the darkness. This was going to be easier than he’d hoped. Biggs stopped once to relieve himself up a tree trunk, but Jacob kept a cautious distance. He needed to be sure that there was no one about. Eventually, Biggs emerged into the park and took the path alongside the River Anker where the weeping willow trees trailed their leafless branches into the sluggish waters. Jacob bided his time until the moon sailed behind the clouds, then slipping on his gloves, he crept up behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder.
‘What the …’ Biggs almost jumped out of his skin as he turned, startled to see who it was. Jacob brought his arm back and Biggs, seeing the cold flash of metal, moved quickly to one side and raised his fist. But drink had made him unsteady and he stumbled to his knees, holding his hands up to try to defend himself. His flailing fist caught Jacob on the knee and he grunted with pain. But then Jacob was on him again and swinging his arm forward with all his might he managed to thrust the knife into the man’s heart. Instantly blood began to bubble from Bigg’s lips and he made a desperate, strangled noise in his throat. There was a moment’s recognition in his eyes as he looked up at his attacker before they began to close and, as if in slow motion, he toppled forward making a strange gurgling noise.
Jacob stood there, his heart thumping wildly until the noise ceased then cautiously he turned Biggs over with the toe of his shoe. The man’s eyes were staring sightlessly up at the sky and for a moment Jacob thought that he was going to be sick. However, he pulled himself together with an enormous effort, and heaving and grunting, Jacob pushed and rolled the dead weight to the edge of the riverbank, then putting his foot in Biggs’s back he gave a final heave. The man’s body hit the water with a satisfying splash and as the water closed over him silence fell, save for the beating of the judge’s heart.
Suddenly he realised his mistake. He should have found some rocks to weigh the body down, but it was too late to do anything about it now. If anyone should see him arriving back at the house dripping wet the game would be up; he would just have to take his chance. Jacob glanced around nervously. Satisfied that he was quite alone, he took to his heels, before forcing himself to stop and take his gloves off. With shaking fingers, he hastily filled them with stones and tossed them into the river, throwing the knife in after them. Suddenly, the full horror of what he had done hit him and he sagged against a tree, exhausted. But he couldn’t stay; he needed to get home immediately.
It was imperative that the staff should think he had been there all night. Forcing one foot in front of another he set off with his head bent. Despite the bitterness of the night, a cold sweat had broken out on his forehead.
He was pleased to find the house in darkness save for one oil light burning on the console table in the hallway. He crept up to his room where he lit a candle, gasping as he saw the blood on the cuff of his shirt. He threw it off, screwed it into a tight ball and stuffed it into the leather bag he used for work. He would have to dispose of it away from the house. Then he washed himself thoroughly and fell into bed. It was only as he lay there, shivering uncontrollably, that another problem presented itself and he sat up abruptly. Biggs’s clothes! They were all still in his room. Slipping his arms into the sleeves of his robe, he tiptoed across the landing to Biggs’s room where he lit a candle, yanked the man’s bag from the bottom of the wardrobe and rammed everything he could find into it. But now he was faced with yet another problem. What was he to do with the bag? He wanted the staff to think that Biggs had simply upped and gone, but it was too late to dispose of his possessions tonight. Finding no alternative, he thrust the bag as far beneath the bed as it would go. He would have to get rid of it at the first opportunity, which wouldn’t be easy with the staff always pottering about.
Then, like a thief in the night, he crept back to his room.
‘Mr Biggs didn’t come home last night,’ Mabel informed Jacob the following morning as he was breakfasting in the dining room.
‘He didn’t?’ He kept his eyes fixed on his plate.
‘No, sir. I just went up to ask him what time he wanted breakfast an’ his bed hadn’t been slept in.’
Jacob shrugged. ‘I shouldn’t worry about it. He’s a grown man so quite entitled to stay out if he so wishes. Or perhaps he decided to go back to his own home.’
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