‘Has Mr Mackenzie been yet?’ she asked.
‘No, luvvie, I were sayin’ to Mabel earlier on that it were strange he hasn’t been but happen he’ll be here tomorrow.’
Grace frowned. ‘My aunt informed me today that Mr Mackenzie hasn’t been sending my allowance through for some months now. Has he been paying you the household expenses?’
Mrs Batley nodded. ‘Aye on the nose every first o’ the month. Per’aps he overlooked yours, you’ll need to address it wi’ him when he comes. Although everythin’ will change now anyway. I’ve no doubt yer father has left you a very wealthy young woman.’ And then for the first time she noticed that Grace was dressed in ordinary clothes and her mouth gaped like a goldfish’s as she asked, ‘But why are yer dressed like that?’
‘I have left the convent,’ Grace said shortly.
‘Well, I never!’ Then a smile spread across the woman’s face as something occurred to her. ‘Does this mean that you’ll be livin’ here now?’
‘I haven’t decided what I want to do yet.’ Grace sank onto a chair. Her head felt as if it was spinning. So much had happened in just one day and now she was so tired she felt she could have fallen asleep standing up.
Harry came in then covered from head to toe in coal dust. He had recently taken a job at the local pit. There wasn’t really enough work to keep him going in the house now that he had it tip-top and he wanted to feel he was earning his wages.
After he had greeted Grace, Mabel instantly shooed him away to get out of his sooty clothes and have a bath while the women sat at the table drinking yet more tea. Tea was Mrs Batley’s cure for everything.
‘Harry is doin’ really well down the pit,’ Mabel told Grace proudly. ‘An’ there’s a pit cottage comin’ vacant in the next couple o’ weeks in Stockingford that he’s been told we can have if he wants it.’
‘Oh, so won’t you be working here either, then?’ Grace asked. She could never remember a time when Mabel hadn’t been there. She and Mrs Batley were like family to her.
‘Oh aye, I shall still walk here every day,’ Mabel promised and blushed. ‘Till our first nipper’s on the way anyway. Me an’ Harry are keen to start a family as soon as you like.’
Grace was happy for her, she was positively glowing and married life clearly suited her.
The meal when it was served was tasty but Grace found that she didn’t have much of an appetite and excused herself soon after to retire for an early night.
As she lay tucked up in bed, the enormity of everything that had happened that day struck home and tears began to course down her cheeks. This time yesterday she had been training to be a nun with her future mapped out for her. Today she had discovered she was going to be a mother, had been sent away from the convent in disgrace and then discovered that her father had died. It seemed incredible that her life could have changed so completely in just a few short hours, but it had and now Grace knew that she had no choice but to get on with things.
Grace rang the lawyer’s firm in town the next morning only to be told by Mr Blenkinsop, one of the junior lawyers, that Mr Mackenzie hadn’t turned up for work that day. It was most unlike him.
‘Perhaps he’s unwell?’ Grace suggested but the man disagreed.
‘No, Miss Kettle. I sent the clerk round to his house first thing and it was all locked up with no one there. We can’t understand it.’
A little niggle of unease rippled through Grace but she told him calmly. ‘Very well. Please keep trying to contact him, would you? And let me know immediately you find him.’
‘Of course, Miss Kettle. Good day to you.’
The following day, with still no sign of Mr Mackenzie, Grace was forced to organise her father’s funeral. It would take place the following week and she was dreading it.
So towards the weekend, when the kitchen door opened and Aunt Gertie breezed in unexpectedly, Grace was sure she had never been so pleased to see anyone in her life. Her whole world had collapsed and she had dreaded the thought of facing the funeral on her own. Her father’s solicitor’s firm in the town was in chaos without Mr Mackenzie to organise them and she needed to find out what was going on.
The very next day Grace and Gertie set off to see Mr Hibberd, the other partner in the judge’s law firm.
‘What exactly is going on?’ Grace demanded when they had been shown into his office. The poor man was as jumpy as a cricket.
‘We have no idea as yet,’ he admitted nervously. ‘Although it does appear that Mr Mackenzie has gone.’
‘Gone? What do you mean gone?’ said Gertie, glaring at him.
The poor man quaked in his boots. ‘Yesterday we took it upon ourselves, with the landlord’s permission, to gain entry to Mr Mackenzie’s house,’ the man explained. ‘We were worried that he might be lying inside ill, you see, and unable to get help …’
‘And?’ Gertie demanded impatiently as Grace fidgeted at the side of her.
‘And we found that all his clothes and personal possessions were gone. The landlord also informed us that he had only paid his rent up until the end of this week.’
Gertie frowned as she strummed her fingers on his desk. There was something fishy going on here, if she wasn’t very much mistaken.
‘So, he’s done a moonlight flit, has he? Right then, I think it’s time we gave you permission to look into my niece’s finances. There’s something not quite right here.’
‘We were going to ask if we might do just that this very day,’ he explained hastily and after fetching a form, which gave Grace’s consent to look into her late father’s affairs, Grace and Gertie left the office leaving strict instructions to be kept up to date with what was going on.
‘I reckon that nurse who cared for your father has had something to do with this,’ Gertie commented as she strode back to the house.
‘Nurse Matthews?’ Grace was shocked.
‘Don’t you find it strange that she left immediately your father died? I reckon her and Mackenzie have run off together. I think they’ve been planning it. Mrs Batley mentioned that they’d been seeing a fair bit of each other.’
Grace wondered if perhaps her aunt hadn’t been reading too many novels but decided not to say anything until Mr Hibberd got back in touch to tell her the state of her affairs.
They didn’t have to wait long. He arrived at the house late that afternoon looking weary and sick.
‘I’m afraid I am the bearer of bad news,’ he told them after being shown into the drawing room by Mabel. ‘It appears …’ He licked his dry lips, there was no easy way to tell them what he had found out so he decided he may just as well get on with it. ‘It appears that Mr Mackenzie had been spiriting your father’s money into Nurse Matthews’s bank account a little at a time for some long while. Ever since your father became ill, in fact. They had even remortgaged this house. I can only assume one of them faked your father’s signature.’
‘So, stop fiddle-faddling, man,’ Gertie snapped impatiently. ‘Where does this leave Grace financially?’
The poor man gulped as he took off his spectacles and began to nervously polish them with a clean white handkerchief. ‘I’m afraid it means that there will be very little money left after funeral expenses, etc. He has taken everything, even the clients’ money that we kept in the safe in our office. It is going to have terrible implications on the business. I fear it may have to be sold. But there is the …’ He shrugged helplessly. This was as much of a shock to him as it clearly was to Grace and Gertie. He had worked side by side with Mr Mackenzie for years and would never have believed him capable of such deception.
‘It’s as I feared,’ Gertie muttered. ‘Have the police been informed?’
He nodded. ‘Oh yes, they are trying to locate the couple even as we speak but they suspect they may have already left the country. It would seem that they have been planning this for some time between them.’
Gertie slammed her clenched fist onto a small table making the figurine on it jump.
Grace had paled. When she had been told that she was to have a child she had at least known that she would be able to support it, but if what Mr Hibberd was saying was true, how would she manage now?
Mr Hibberd rose, looking almost as shaken as Grace. He hated to be the bearer of such bad news so soon after her father’s death, but what choice had he had?
‘Keep us informed,’ Gertie told him shortly as he gathered together his papers, and with a nod he left the room, his shoulders stooped.
‘Oh, Aunt Gertie, what am I going to do?’ Grace asked tearfully.
Gertie squared her shoulders. ‘You will come home with me, of course. You will always have a home there. But now we must go and break the bad news to the staff.’
Mrs Batley sat down heavily on the nearest chair when she was told what had happened, while Mabel clung to Harry’s hand.
‘Well, we’ll be all right won’t we, Harry?’ Mabel muttered. ‘But what about Mrs Batley?’
‘Don’t worry about me, pet.’ Mrs Batley gave her a reassuring smile. ‘I’m no spring chicken anymore and I’d have had to retire sometime. Thanks to the old master I’ve got a nice nest egg tucked away so I reckon it’s time I looked about fer a nice little cottage where I can live out me life in peace.’
Grace let out a little sigh of relief. They had all taken the news far better than she’d expected but she was still reeling. How could Mr Mackenzie have done such a thing? He had always seemed to be so genuine, as had Nurse Matthews. It just went to show, you never really knew anyone. That thought brought an image of Father Luke to her mind and a lump formed in her throat. She had thought she knew him. She had given herself to him, heart and soul, but it seemed she had meant nothing to him, despite him telling her that he cared for her. It was a bitter pill to swallow. And now she had her father’s funeral to get through, before planning on how she could support herself and her baby. It was a daunting thought.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The heavens opened on the day they buried Judge Kettle. Very few people had turned up at the church – just some of the people from his law firm, and Mrs Batley, Mabel and Harry were there. Gertie wasn’t surprised. He had never been the nicest of men. But even so, she felt for poor Grace, who stood woodenly beside her, clinging to her arm as if it was a lifeline.
Once the service was over, Grace watched her father’s coffin being lowered into the ground as the rain lashed down on them. She hadn’t expected to feel anything, but in fact she was overcome by so many different emotions and she found herself thinking back to happier times when she was small and her father was everything to her. Harry had told her of the hard life her father had endured as a child and she wondered now if this was what had made it so hard for him to show genuine affection. She would never know now but she was sad that he had died with no one to care for him at the very end.
‘That’s about it then.’ Mrs Batley looked around at the empty drawing room and sighed as she thought back to the happy times she had spent there. Grace had given Mabel and Harry some of the furniture for their cottage, the rest had been taken to the local auction house early that morning. Mrs Batley had managed to find a tiny cottage that was just right for her in the parish of Attleborough and now she was looking forward to being a lady of leisure, although it would be hard to walk away from the house she had called home for so many years. Her bag was packed and ready to go at the side of the door, Harry had taken the rest of her things to her new home the evening before, so now all that was left were the goodbyes.
‘You take care o’ yerself now, pet.’ There were tears in the woman’s eyes as she gently stroked Grace’s smooth cheek. ‘An’ be sure to keep in touch an’ come an’ see me sometimes. Oh, an’ don’t forget to hand the house keys in to Mr Hibberd on the way to the station.’
‘I will,’ Grace promised in a wobbly voice as she saw her to the door, where she suddenly broke down and hugged the woman to her. ‘I shall miss you so much, Batty,’ she whispered brokenly.
‘Aye, an’ I shall miss you an’ all, pet,’ the woman replied in a choked voice. Then with an enormous effort she pulled herself together and set off. Grace watched her walk away and raised her hand just before the woman turned a corner, then she went back inside to collect her own bags. She had said her tearful goodbyes to Mabel and Harry the night before.
Knowing how difficult this must be for her, Gertie gave Grace’s arm a little squeeze. ‘I’ll go and wait outside for you while you have a last look around. But don’t be too long, mind. The cab I ordered will be here shortly.’ She stepped outside into the sunshine. It was a beautiful day, a complete contrast to the day before, and she hoped this was a sign of better things to come for Grace, who had endured so much over the past few weeks.
Inside Grace wandered from room to room, lingering in her mother’s old room. It was hard to believe that she would never come here again. She chose not to enter her father’s room, instead she walked straight past it, moving briskly down the stairs and out of the front door to join Aunt Gertie outside.
The cab had just arrived and Gertie was helping the driver to load their luggage into the boot. They were taking away considerably more than they had arrived with as Grace had wanted to keep some of her mother’s things as mementos, which Gertie supposed was quite understandable. As they pulled away, Grace looked back just once then kept her eyes straight ahead. Her future was so uncertain now and she felt afraid. Admittedly, Aunt Gertie had assured her that she would always have a home with her, but she didn’t know about the baby yet. Would she have a change of heart when she did?
They stopped off briefly for Grace to hand the keys to Mr Hibberd, who looked worn down with worry, then they went on to the station. Gertie had phoned to arrange for Aled Llewelyn to meet them in Pwllheli later that day, so once they had got the porter to stack the luggage in the baggage van at the back of the train, they climbed aboard and settled back in their seats.
The journey was uneventful and passed mainly in silence. Grace was lost in her thoughts. Once or twice she opened her mouth to confide her secret to her aunt but then lost her courage and clamped it shut again. She would wait for the right moment, she decided.
It was evening before they arrived back at the cottage and Cerys Llewelyn was waiting to greet them with hot, sweet tea and a meal she had been keeping warm in the oven.
‘I can’t believe what’s happened. Have they caught the thieving varmints yet?’ she asked.
Gertie shook her head. ‘Not so much as a sniff of them. I reckon they caught a boat the same day the judge died. They could be anywhere by now.’
‘It’s shocking,’ Cerys said angrily. But then she was secretly pleased that Grace would be staying with them, and Dylan had been over the moon when she’d told him that Grace had left the convent. Perhaps now she would see sense and realise what a good catch he was?
It took three days before Grace found the opportunity to tell her aunt about the baby. Gertie was cleaning out the hut where she kept the goats and Grace volunteered to help.
‘Th-there’s something I need to tell you, aunt,’ she said timidly as Gertie threw a pitchfork full of clean hay into the shed.
‘Oh yes, go ahead then!’
Grace took a deep breath and nervously licked her lips. ‘The fact is … I left the convent because … because I’m going to have a baby.’
She waited for her aunt to explode but surprisingly she calmly went on with what she was doing.
‘And is the father prepared to stand by you?’ she asked eventually.
When Grace shook her head, Gertie sighed. ‘I see. Well, as I said you’re more than welcome to stay here.’
‘But I can’t now.’ Grace’s voice was choked. ‘I’ll be the talk of
the village when people find out. Can you imagine what they’ll say about a postulant that ended up pregnant? And if you’re sheltering me they’ll gossip about you too.’
‘So?’ Gertie paused to lean on the handle of the pitchfork and stare at her. ‘Let them talk! While they’re gossiping about us they’ll be leaving some other poor bugger alone.’
‘But it’s not quite as simple as that,’ Grace pointed out. ‘The baby will suffer too if I stay here because it’s illegitimate. It would be better if I were to get a job and move away somewhere where no one knows me. I can say that I am a widow and work until the baby’s born.’
‘Hmm, and then what will you do? How will you live when you have a baby to care for? And furthermore, where will you live?’
Grace blinked. Everything seemed so complicated at the minute and sometimes she wished she could just go to sleep and never wake up, although she felt better now that she had told her aunt the truth. She had taken it far better than Grace had expected her to.
‘Do you want to tell me who the father is?’ Gertie asked.
Grace shook her head.
Gertie shrugged. ‘Fair enough, it’s none of my business at the end of the day. You’re not the first girl to find yourself in this predicament and I can guarantee you won’t be the last. But now I’d best get on. I don’t want it to rain until I’ve got all this dry straw into the shed.’ And with that she continued with what she was doing.
The following weekend, Dylan visited all dressed up in his Sunday best. ‘I brought you these,’ he said self-consciously as he held out a rather dilapidated bunch of daffodils to Grace.
She blushed as she took them off him and, heartened, he hurried on, ‘I was sorry to hear about your father, and about what happened with the solicitor. You wouldn’t believe that someone in a position of trust could do something like that, would you?’
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