Andrew was impressed at what he saw inside the cottage. ‘This is very nice. I was expecting to see something terribly old fashioned and basic, like the place I’ve just left. I don’t want any breakfast, Laura. I’ve already eaten.’
He took off his coat and Laura made a face at the mud on it. ‘What a state you’re in. You’re like a mucky child. Whatever you’ve been doing, it sounds very mysterious. Where have you been?’
‘To a quaint little place called Tregorlan Farm. I turned off up their track by mistake and fell over in the mud. I met the Davey family, Tressa, her father Jacka, and her aunt Joan.’
‘Did you meet anyone else? A son or a labourer? I saw a small man on the property the other day.’
‘Oh, that must have been Tressa,’ Andrew replied knowledgeably. ‘For some reason she wears men’s clothing. She’s very pretty and very quiet.’
‘Is she?’ Laura smiled. ‘Well, I’ve only seen her from a distance. Tell me about it in the kitchen while I make myself some breakfast. I’m ravenously hungry this morning.’ As soon as they were in the other room, Laura demanded worriedly, ‘Why have you come down to Cornwall, Andrew? There’s nothing wrong, is there?’
‘No more than you know already. I was concerned for you. I wanted to see for myself exactly how you are and I thought it was a good opportunity to bring down some of your personal things, they need to be collected from the railway station by the way, and get you to sign some papers at the same time. I’ve had all your things removed from the house to my flat. I’m afraid the house will have to be sold to help pay off the creditors you’ve inherited.’
‘Thanks for all you’re doing, Andrew.’ Laura hung her head. ‘I don’t care about the house. Bill chose it, it was fussy and too big for our needs, especially as he didn’t want a family. I don’t think I could have faced going into it again. It means nothing to me but bad memories. It’s lovely now being able to do what I please, when I please.’
Andrew held her tightly for a moment then he lifted her face. ‘Neither of us will miss him, Laura. Go on, get your breakfast. Don’t waste your time on memories of Bill Jennings.’
She shoved a poker through the grill of the range and pushed down the ashes of the fire before putting a log through the opening at the top of the range. It crackled merrily as it burned. ‘Who’d have thought I’d be using one of these. Apparently most Cornish homes have these cooking ranges. This one has a back boiler and heats the water too. You’re welcome to have a bath if you like. It’s through that door there. Imagine, a bathroom downstairs.’
‘I see you burn logs. They burn peat at Tregorlan Farm. I met up with Tressa after I fell over. She’s not very friendly but she took me up to the farmhouse. She allowed her dog to jump up at me.’
Laura was amused. ‘You mean she just let the dog jump up at you and did nothing about it?’
‘Yes. Well, she called it off in the end. Then she shouted at me to take my shoes off before I went indoors.’
‘She sounds awful,’ Laura said sympathetically, putting a small saucepan of water on the range to heat for a boiled egg. ‘The man who owns Rosemerryn Farm is absolutely beastly. Think yourself lucky you didn’t end up there.’
‘Oh, Tressa was lovely.’
‘Lovely? In what way? You said she wasn’t friendly.’
‘I don’t know, she just is. I don’t think she means to be vindictive or anything. She’s just not used to having visitors. When she took off all her outdoor clothes she was so tiny, like some mythical creature you could well imagine living on the moor.’
Laura arched her brows but said nothing. Andrew wasn’t usually given to waxing lyrical over a female. The last place she’d expect him to take an interest in one was down here in Cornwall, and a lowly farmer’s daughter at that. He’d always been rather scathing abut Bill’s origins and made fun of his accent. Tressa Davey must be worth meeting.
‘Jacka insisted I share their breakfast,’ Andrew went on. ‘Like Joan he was a bit shy at first but after a while they both opened up. I think they’ve fallen on hard times. The place was in a terrible mess and their clothes were old and shabby. Jacka told me his two sons were killed in the war. Now he only has Tressa to help with the farming but she certainly looks tough enough for anything despite being so small. He’s invited me to look over the farm.’
‘Are you going to?’ Laura looked pleased. ‘Does that mean you’re staying down here for a while?’
He shrugged his wide shoulders. ‘I thought I’d stay down here for a couple of days to reassure myself that you’re okay. I don’t know about tramping over some silly moorland farm though.’ Andrew blushed because he knew he was lying. ‘I could end up at the bottom of a swamp.’
‘You probably will if Tressa Davey has anything to do with it. It’ll be lovely having you around for a while.’
‘I’ll have to see about lodgings. Do you know of anyone who could put me up?’
‘You could stay here but it wouldn’t be right in a small village,’ Laura said, carrying her breakfast to the table. ‘We could go up to the shop and ask Aunty Daisy later.’
‘Aunty Daisy! Who’s that? Don’t tell me you’ve discovered a long lost relative in this village or is it the name of some old Cornish character?’ He screwed up his face and pretended to ram a pipe between his lips. ‘Aw, ais, me ’an’some.’
Laura smiled wryly. ‘She’s Daisy Tamblyn and she owns the village shop and runs the sub-post office. She’s Bill’s aunt and she’s been very good to me. It seemed natural for me to call her Aunty Daisy.’
As if on cue, Daisy opened the front door and called out, ‘Laura, dear, are you there?’
‘I’m in the kitchen, Aunty.’
‘I’ve come down early to see if you had a good night,’ Daisy bustled in. ‘I was worried you – Oh!’
‘Good morning, Aunty Daisy,’ Laura said, amused that Daisy had jumped to the wrong conclusion about Andrew’s presence. ‘I’ve had an even earlier visitor than you are. This is Andrew Macarthur. He’s just arrived from London. You’ve spoken to him on the telephone, remember?’
‘P-pleased to meet you, Mr Macarthur,’ Daisy struggled to say. ‘I was surprised to see someone else here.’
Andrew shook Daisy’s hand and piled on the charm. ‘I’ve come down to see how Laura is and it’s a comfort to find she has made friends here.’
‘Sit down and have a cup of coffee, Aunty,’ Laura said. ‘Andrew can pour it.’
‘I came down to see if you were all right and to tell you about Johnny Prouse,’ Daisy said when she was sitting down with a cup of coffee in front of her. ‘I rang the hospital before I came out and they said he can be discharged, tomorrow. I’ve got a spare key to his cottage and I’m going down to air it out later. Bunty’s going to look after the shop. Now, did you have a good night, dear? You weren’t frightened by the winds last night or waking up to see the fog?’
‘I’m fine, Aunty, you needn’t worry. I didn’t even realise there were stronger winds than usual last night. I must be getting used to the sounds. That’s good news about Johnny. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for him. Andrew’s going to stay for a couple of days. Is there anyone who could put him up? And he’s brought down some of my things and they need collecting at the railway station. Do you know of anyone who would collect them for me?’
Daisy gazed at Andrew as he poured the coffee. Despite his muddy appearance she saw him as a slick city type, more suited to Laura than Billy had been. Just how close a friend to her was he? Was he down here hoping to stake a claim on the beautiful young widow? She shuffled her shoulders primly. ‘I’ll phone one of the delivery vans who call at the shop regularly, they’ll gladly pick up your things for two bob. The pub takes in people all year round. Mr Macarthur can ask there.’
‘Of course, the pub. You’ll like it there, Andrew. It’s called the Tremewan Arms and it’s only just across the road and up the hill a bit. The landlord and landlady, Mike and Pat Penhaligon, are lovely
people.’
‘You have been busy making friends,’ Andrew spoke to Laura but he was looking at Daisy. He grinned ruefully. So ‘Aunty Daisy’ was suspicious of him. That was funny seeing as he’d been captivated by a very different sort of woman a short time ago.
Laura shot Daisy a stern look. ‘Not everyone in the village is nice and kind,’ she said coolly. She was still smarting that Daisy had refused to tell her yesterday why Spencer Jeffries had hated Bill so much, saying it wasn’t her place to say anything and she wasn’t sure if she knew the whole story anyway. Laura had made up her mind to find out the truth from Spencer Jeffries himself.
Daisy looked away, rather shamefaced, but Andrew didn’t notice. ‘The Daveys are a nice lot,’ he said.
‘You’ve met them?’ Daisy asked, eager to latch on to something else. ‘How come?’
Andrew related the story of how he had ended up at Tregorlan Farm. ‘She’s got a heavenly little face,’ he stated enthusiastically, referring to Tressa. ‘But it’s difficult to get a word out of her.’
‘Aye, she’s a nice little thing,’ Daisy agreed, frowning. Surely this man’s interests weren’t directed in that unlikely quarter? ‘She takes no notice of men, is happy to live in a world of her own. The Davey women don’t tend to marry. It’s the men who take a bride home to start off the next generation, but now there’s no one left to carry on the name after Jacka. Tressa’s a hard worker, has to be to help her father make ends meet. A few years ago Jacka lost most of his cattle from some sort of disease and he’s never got back on his feet since. He had to take out a second mortgage on the farm. Most of the farmers keep ponies but Jacka had to sell off his which means them tramping over the moor to herd in their cattle. Sometimes he and Tressa take on work on the other farms, hay lifting, tattie picking, even a bit of gardening.’
‘Gosh, that’s bad luck.’ Andrew returned to what was rapidly becoming his favourite subject. ‘Tressa’s so small. Probably because she doesn’t eat very much.’
‘What!’ Daisy scoffed. ‘That maid could eat a horse. She’s tiny but she can’t half pack her food away. She don’t come into the village often but the few times I’ve seen her at a village social she ate platefuls of food. We don’t see any of the Daveys much except for church and then Jacka comes in the same suit, shirt and tie he got married in. They haven’t got money to spend on clothes, you see.’
Andrew was looking horrified. ‘You mean I ate part of her breakfast this morning and left her to go about her work hungry? She only had porridge. No wonder she was reluctant to have me there. And is being poor the reason why she dresses in men’s clothes? They must belong to her dead brothers. Poor Tressa. I must do something to make it up to her.’
‘Why?’ Laura challenged him. Not that she was against helping the girl but she was curious about Andrew’s motives.
The eyes of the two women were upon him. Andrew shrugged his shoulders and said quietly, ‘I just have to, that’s all.’
* * *
When Daisy went back to the shop, Laura took Andrew across the road to the Tremewan Arms. Mike and Pat Penhaligon greeted Andrew in their customary warm and exuberant manner.
‘We’ll be happy to have you stay, Mr Macarthur,’ Mike bellowed and Pat told him to speak more quietly. ‘Strange thing is, that’ll make three Londoners we’ll have in the village. Are ’ee all emigrating down here?’
‘Well, I can’t speak for Mrs Jennings or your other guest,’ Andrew said, signing his name in a small leather-bound register. ‘But I’ll be staying here for two nights and leaving on Wednesday morning. Do you do evening meals as well?’
‘Aye, we can do all your meals for you,’ Pat replied. ‘Just let us know the ones you’ll be in for. If you want to go out I can pack you up some sandwiches.’
‘That will be lovely,’ Andrew said appreciatively. ‘You live in a beautiful county although it’s very windy. I hope to explore it a little bit.’
‘Particularly Tregorlan Farm,’ Laura said drily.
Andrew shot her a scathing look.
‘Eh?’ said Mike, scratching the bush on his face.
‘He’s made friends with Jacka Davey,’ Laura explained mischievously.
‘Well, you’ll probably have the opportunity to buy him a pint,’ Mike grinned. ‘He comes in once or twice a week.’
They were in the wide hallway of the pub and all eyes turned to watch a man coming down the stairs. He took each step slowly, as if he was afraid one of his knees was going to give out or he was going to lose his balance. He was about five feet, six inches tall, fortyish in age and dressed in fight shoes, an open neck shirt and a sports jacket.
‘You’re not going out dressed in just that, are you, Mr Beatty?’ Pat fussed like a ducky hen. ‘’Tis much too cold for that. ’Tis damp and foggy and won’t be no good for your chest.’
Mr Beatty stopped on the bottom step and looked bemusedly at his audience. ‘I’m just going to the lounge to read the morning papers, Pat. I went back upstairs to fetch my glasses.’ He alighted on the red carpet and held out his hand to Andrew. ‘Sam Beatty. Did I hear you are to be a guest here, too?’
‘Yes, until Wednesday,’ Andrew replied in polite solicitor tones. He turned to Laura. ‘I’m down to visit this lady. May I introduce Laura Jennings.’
Sam Beatty turned to her. ‘Delighted to meet you, Mrs Jennings. I must confess I already know a little about you.’ Laura frowned and instinctively took a step closer to Andrew. This was the man who had been watching her two days ago. ‘On the village grapevine, you understand,’ Sam Beatty added quickly. ‘You can’t help but pick up information when you drink in a public bar. I understand you live across the road and have recently buried your husband in the churchyard. Please accept my condolences.’
‘Thank you, Mr Beatty,’ Laura said tartly. She didn’t like this man with his long horsy face and thin mousey moustache.
‘If you are in the pub tonight perhaps I could buy everyone a drink,’ Sam Beatty said brightly, putting his hands behind his back. That made Laura think he had something to hide.
‘Mr Macarthur will be dining with me tonight,’ Laura said before anyone else could speak. ‘Perhaps some other time, Mr Beatty.’
‘As you please.’ Sam Beatty dropped his head, stepped backwards and withdrew.
‘He’s down here for his health,’ Pat whispered confidentially, tapping her chest. ‘Convalescing after an operation.’
‘Surely he won’t be walking the moor?’ Andrew said.
‘No. He said he chose a quiet spot where his well-meaning friends can’t find him. He said they would smother him with kindness and help kill rather than cure him,’ Pat explained.
‘I didn’t like the look of that man, Beatty,’ Laura said when they were walking back down the hill to fetch Andrew’s suitcase. ‘I caught him staring at me a couple of days ago.’
‘Well, you are a beautiful woman, Laura,’ Andrew said. ‘You shouldn’t—’
‘Be surprised if men stare at me? Well, I don’t want any man staring at me, thank you!’
‘Don’t get so prickly. I’m glad I’ve come down here. You need moral support and you aren’t going to get all you need in this village, no matter how well meaning some of the natives are.’
Laura put her arm through Andrew’s and for a moment snuggled her head against his shoulder. ‘I’ll cook us something tasty for lunch then we’ll get down to the business you need to talk to me about. I’m so glad you’re here, Andrew.’
They didn’t notice Ada Prisk drawing water at the pump.
Chapter 10
When Daisy got back to the shop, Bunty gave her a quick résumé of who had been in and what they had bought. ‘And Joy Miller’s coming back for stamps because of course I can’t serve in the post office. She didn’t look at all well. If you ask me she’s coming down with a cold. I’m just cutting this ham carefully for Mrs Roach. You know how Cecil likes it just so. If he was my husband he’d eat what I put in front of him and if
he didn’t like it, he’d have to lump it. You can pop it in to Barbara when you go down to Johnny Prouse’s to make sure everything’s fine in his cottage.’
‘Thanks ever so much, Bunty,’ Daisy said, picking up a tin of biscuits which, among other things, had just been delivered and left in the middle of the shop floor. ‘I’ll put this in the storeroom. I just had to go down to Little Cot. Laura was so upset over yesterday. When she refused to come for tea with us I was afraid she’d change her mind about staying on here. I’m worried that if she doesn’t get things worked out in her mind, her past will haunt her future.’
‘She’s all right now then, is she?’ Bunty asked sympathetically, looking up from the meat slicer on the shop counter.
Daisy shook her head sadly. ‘She’s still cross with me. But how could I tell her the truth, Daisy? There’s only you, me and Ince who really knows what happened between Billy and Spencer. Laura’s had enough upsets as it is with her father’s death, Billy’s death, then learning what state he left her father’s company in. What I’m afraid of is she’s going to confront Spencer and demand to know what went on.’
‘Well, you can’t blame her. ’Twas a terrible way Spencer went for her, and in the churchyard, too, of all places. Bound to make the maid angry and curious. It would me.’
‘Oh, well, we’ll just have to wait and see what happens. She’s definitely not going back to London yet anyway.’ As Daisy approached the counter, her face broke into a smile. ‘You’ll never guess who she’s got with her now. He’s come all the way down from London just to see her. It’s that solicitor chap that’s been ringing her, Andrew Macarthur. He’s going to stay in the pub for a couple of days. He’ll turn a few heads in the village, you mark my words, specially the female ones and specially Marianne Roach’s. He’s ever such a good-looking man.’
‘Oh really? So that’s who he is. Ada Prisk was in here not long ago. She saw him hugging Laura. Made it sound like he was her lover.’
Kilgarthen Page 10