His hands were like blocks of ice. Opening her coat, she pulled the layers of top clothes out of her trousers. ‘I’m going to try to warm your hands, Andrew. I want you to try to rub them over my back.’
Despite his plight, he seemed horrified. ‘Make you c-cold.’
‘Don’t worry about that. Your hands have been tied up, probably for hours, you don’t want to lose them for good.’ Holding his wrists, she pushed his hands inside her clothes and round her body and encouraged him to hug her close.
He had longed for this and through the mists slowly fading from his brain, he obeyed her command happily, but he couldn’t feel where he was touching her and he was unaware of her flinching at his icy contact with her skin. After a while she pulled his hands out and rubbed them vigorously between hers. ‘You’re going to be all right, Andrew.’
‘Of course… couldn’t leave without telling… I love you.’
She stopped her ministrations for a moment. She stared at him wide-eyed. Could it be true? Or was his mind rambling? No time to think about that now. She had to get him out of this pit and somehow back to the farm and warmth and safety. She put the spare pair of gloves on his hands and then held a flask cup of sweet hot water to his lips and managed to get him to take a few sips. Then she drank some herself; she needed all the strength she could get.
Andrew was quite lucid now and he was aware of the dangers they were both in. He couldn’t control his shivering and although it was extremely unpleasant, like Tressa he knew it meant he had some life flowing through his frozen body. He knew he must have been very close to death when she’d found him. Before that he’d known only the terrible coldness and darkness and he had been drifting into the first throes of hypothermia. Her courage and determination gave him the strength to fight for his life and not to risk hers.
She got him to his knees and he made a supreme effort not to crumple back to the floor. It was agony, it tore and burnt at every nerve in his body but he wouldn’t give up with Tressa here helping him.
Keeping a grip on him, Tressa scrambled out of the smuggler’s hide and laid the top part of his body over the edge of the stone floor. She knew every tiny movement was painful for him but it had to be done if he was going to come out of this alive. She lay on the floor and reaching down took hold of his trouser waistband with both hands. Then she pulled with all her might. He could do nothing to help her. She tugged and strained and her lungs felt they were bursting and her back about to break, but bit by bit she hauled him out of the hide until he was lying in a heap beside her.
She gasped in much-needed air, praying she hadn’t damaged herself and would be unable to carry on with the rescue. She had lost track of time and hoped her father or aunt would soon find her note and come to her aid.
With a tremendous effort, Andrew moved his arm and laid it over her. ‘Tressa… you all right?’
She turned to lie on her side and face him. She was able to smile although she felt as if her whole body had been racked. ‘Yes. We’ll carry on in a minute.’
She took a few more deep breaths and got up on her knees, then she lifted him up so she could put her arms round his chest from behind. A few inches at a time, she dragged him along the floor until he was in the main room of the farmhouse. She propped him up against the wall and wrapped the black cloth round him. She went to fetch the threadbare curtains from the other room to help keep him warm and spotted the mysterious cigarette packet on the floor. She picked it up and put it into her pocket.
‘You c-can’t drag me… back to the farm,’ he got out through chattering teeth. ‘Too much for you… n-never make it.’
She knew he was right. She crouched down in front of him and held his hands. They were the most important parts of his body to keep warm. ‘But we have to leave here. Those men might come back.’
‘No,’ Andrew couldn’t shake his head but he thought he did. ‘Got what they wanted. Gone back to London… left me to die.’
‘Oh, Andrew,’ she murmured, stroking his cheek. She looked hopelessly round the farmhouse. ‘There’s some bits of stick and some rubbish lying about. I could burn my bag but I’ve got nothing to light a fire with.’
‘My lighter,’ he said, feeling glad that he could at last help in their desperate situation.
Taking the cigarette lighter from the inside breast pocket of his suit, she dragged him over to the open fireplace. She hastily gathered up the sticks and discarded picnickers’ rubbish and managed to light a small fire. Taking out the flask, she put the strings of the canvas bag into the flames. When they were burning she pushed the bag into the body of the fire and it made a good blaze.
‘More cheerful,’ Andrew muttered gratefully, feeling optimistic and content to be here alone with the woman he loved so much.
‘Help will come soon,’ Tressa said, huddling in as close to him as possible. ‘I left a note for Dad. People are out looking for you but only a few of us know the full story.’
‘Is Laura all right? Is she worrying about me?’
‘Those men frightened her but didn’t hurt her. She’s very worried about you.’
‘Were you?’
She began rubbing his hands again and lifted his legs to keep his circulation going. ‘Of course.’
‘Tressa. In case I don’t get out of this. Will you do something for me?’
‘You’re going to be all right. Don’t talk like that,’ she muttered rather crossly. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Kiss me.’
She looked away and did not reply. It was totally unexpected and made her feel foolish. She was out of her depth where this sort of thing was concerned.
‘Just a small kiss will do. Please, Tressa. A small one won’t hurt you.’
He was pleading with her and she was acutely embarrassed. But it didn’t seem reasonable to refuse his request in the light of his ordeal.
‘Oh, very well,’ she said tetchily, making an impatient face at him. She put a peck on his cheek but Andrew moved his head before she could move hers away and pressed his lips against hers.
‘Thanks,’ he smiled happily. ‘If I do die then I’ll die a contented man.’
‘You’re not going to die!’ she snapped angrily. ‘Don’t say anything like that again.’
He had the strength to raise his arm and putting it round her, he hugged her closer to him. ‘I adore you, Tressa.’ This was as good as any place to tell her.
‘Don’t say things like that.’ She felt herself squirming and it was more uncomfortable than feeling so very cold.
‘Why not? It’s true. You like me a bit, don’t you?’
‘I-I have to go outside and see if I can find something else to burn, the fire’s getting low.’
‘Don’t make excuses. The fire’s fine for a while longer. I love you with all my heart, Tressa. Why do you think I came back? Don’t you feel something for me too? Don’t I mean anything to you?’
Tressa’s face burned and her cold cheeks stung. Andrew raised his hand to her face. What on earth could she say?
How did she feel about him? She wasn’t used to examining her innermost feelings. He had spoken of love, the kind of love shared between a man and a woman. She knew nothing of that at all. She had never expected or hoped that she would fall in love and get married like most young women of her age did. She had never had a female friend to talk to about love. Her aunty had never spoken of it. It was never mentioned in the books she read.
‘Hello! Tressa!’
The loud voice calling to her from outside made Andrew swear in pure frustration.
‘It sounds like Spencer Jeffries,’ she said, never feeling more relieved in all her life. She half rose to her feet. ‘Hey! Spencer! We’re in here!’
She met Spencer at the door. ‘Did I hear you say we?’ His voice was thick and heavy from the cold. ‘Have you found him?’
‘Yes, Andrew’s alive but very weak. Is there any chance we can get him back to the farm? Could we carry him? It would be very difficult but we could
try.’
‘No need to carry him,’ Spencer said, gazing down at the creaking door. ‘We can use my horse to tow him back on that. I called at Tregorlan and saw your note. I didn’t wait for Joan or Jacka to come back. I added a postscript to your note and grabbed a blanket to bring with me just in case.’
Moving to Andrew, he placed the blanket round him. ‘Don’t worry, Macarthur. We’ll wrap you up snugly and drag you back like a sick Red Indian.’
Andrew scowled his thanks. He was grateful to be rescued; he and Tressa were in great danger without urgent help, but why couldn’t this blasted farmer have arrived just a minute or two later!
Chapter 27
It was almost ten o’clock at night. The snow lay thick on the ground and Kilgarthen was cut off from the rest of the world. Daisy looked down affectionately at Laura’s sleeping face. Her strong beauty was marred by hours of tormented thoughts, worry and unbearable strain; fatigue had finally got the better of her. Sam Beatty and Mike had insisted it would be foolhardy to travel to Tregorlan Farm after they’d circulated the news round the village, pointing out they didn’t want casualties all over the place, it was best to leave the searching to those experienced on the moor.
The fire was burning low and the log basket almost empty. Piling the last few logs on the embers, Daisy put on her coat, and taking a torch with her, crept outside to fetch some more.
Someone knocked on Little Cot’s door and although Laura stirred restlessly in her chair she did not wake up. The door had not been locked, so Andrew could just walk in. The person on the other side waited a few moments then tried the latch. Spencer came straight in and on seeing Laura slumbering by the fire, he went over to her.
He looked down on her face in the same way as Daisy had done, but not with a concerned affection that tore at his heart. He was stunned by how vulnerable she looked, her clear ivory skin pale from her ordeal. She was breathing softly, her shapely body rising and falling gently under a thin blanket. She was gorgeous, with her golden hair falling about her slender shoulders like the fairy princess Vicki compared her to. No wonder Bill Jennings had wanted her as his prize, and Ince was falling in love with her. Spencer was stirred with desire.
He knew she wouldn’t be alone and Daisy probably wasn’t far away. Not wanting to appear to be a voyeur, although he wanted to carry on feasting his eyes on her, and because it would be cruel to delay the news he had brought with him, he bent over Laura and shook her arm gently.
She woke with a terrible start and sat up straight as a bolt. ‘Andrew! Oh, it’s you. What do you want?’ She was terrified, her blue eyes startled to twice their size. Spencer felt the biggest heel in the world for having hurt her feelings so badly on more than one occasion.
‘It’s all right,’ he said hastily, his hands hovering over her, wanting to touch her in reassurance but knowing it almost certainly wouldn’t be welcomed. ‘I’ve come with good news. Macarthur is safe and well and recovering at Tregorlan Farm.’
Laura’s body seemed to collapse with relief. Tears sprang to her tired eyes. ‘Are you sure he’s all right? Is he hurt? Oh, thank God, thank God.’ She sobbed with all her heart and Spencer knelt down beside her and held her hands. In her relief she clung to his strength.
‘He had been tied up and left for dead at Reddacoombe Farm,’ Spencer said quietly. ‘Tressa found him. She probably saved his life. When I got there she had lit a fire and got his circulation going. Between the two of us and my horse we dragged him back to Tregorlan on an old door. It was hard work and took a long time but we managed it in the end. It was too dangerous to try to get him to the hospital and the doctor wouldn’t have been able to get through the snow. Jacka and I put him in dry clothes, then we wrapped him up warmly and put him to bed in Jacka’s sons’ room. He’s been thumped around a bit and has a nasty bump on his head but I reckon Macarthur’s a tough nut, he’ll come through. Besides,’ he smiled, and passed Laura a hanky from his coat pocket, ‘he’s got the girl he loves looking after him with all her devotion. Tressa’s a strong woman. That’s enough to make a man come through any ordeal, eh?’
Laura blew her nose and nodded. ‘Th-thank you, Spencer. I’ve never spent a more miserable time in my life. If anything had happened to him I’d never have forgiven myself because he wouldn’t have come to Kilgarthen in the first place if it hadn’t been for me.’ She looked at him uncertainly, afraid he would suddenly go hostile and cold, but he was looking at her kindly. ‘Will you take me over to Tregorlan Farm now, please, Spencer? We could ride double. I must see Andrew. I’m sure Jacka and Joan won’t mind if I stayed the night to save you the trouble of bringing me back, and I want to thank Tressa.’
‘Of course I’ll take you. I’m only sorry I couldn’t get here sooner but travelling is slow and I first went back to Rosemerryn to see if Vicki and Ince were all right.’
‘And are they?’ she smiled wanly.
‘They’re fine.’
Daisy had been standing in the kitchen doorway and had witnessed most of what had passed between them. She didn’t know what had happened to Spencer to give him this new tenderness, especially where Laura was concerned, but she was grateful for it. Her heart quickened when she thought of all the misery Laura had gone through in her young life, so much of it undeservedly, and knowing that she herself had a guilty secret which she was keeping from Laura.
‘Well, I’ve heard the good news,’ she said brightly, coming into the front room with an armful of logs, her face all smiles. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. We’ll have to tell Sergeant Beatty Andrew’s all right. I expect he’ll want to question Andrew.’
‘Beatty’s a policeman?’ Spencer said, shaking his head in surprise. ‘What’s been going on? I only know part of the story.’
‘You and all the village. Ada Prisk’s going to have a field day trying to put the pieces together,’ Daisy chuckled. ‘I’ll leave these logs and make us all a hot drink.’
When Daisy was in the kitchen, Laura looked Spencer in the face and risked asking, ‘Are you sure Vicki didn’t mind you leaving her to come here?’
‘Not when I told her it was to stop you from worrying all through the night.’ His eyes met hers fully. ‘She misses you. When the lanes are clear, you’re welcome to come to the farm to see her.’
Laura fought back another flood of tears as a fresh force of emotion caught her unawares. ‘Wh-what changed your mind?’
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he replied. ‘You were right about my over-possessiveness of Vicki being bad for her and I was wrong. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?’
She knew she ought not to press him but she couldn’t help herself. ‘And Felicity?’
‘Let me take one step at a time,’ he said rather stiffly. ‘This doesn’t mean you and I are the best of friends. Ince sends you his love, by the way. He wanted to tell you about Macarthur but as I’d been involved, and because I wanted to tell you I feel differently about you seeing Vicki, it was better that I came.’ He gazed at Laura with a touch of something she couldn’t define at the back of his eyes. ‘I’m sure you’d rather it had been Ince.’
‘It doesn’t matter, as long as Andrew is safe,’ she told him. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll help Daisy in the kitchen.’
‘Fine,’ he said, moving so she could stand up. ‘I’ll go over to the pub and phone the doctor for advice on Macarthur and tell the Penhaligons and the policeman what’s happened. Laura,’ he had a sudden thought, ‘I know Macarthur was kidnapped. Are you in any kind of danger? Will those thugs come back for him?’
‘No, if they hadn’t got what they wanted they would have killed Andrew and not left him to die.’ She told Spencer the full story. ‘Sergeant Beatty said as soon as Andrew’s found, the villains in London will be arrested and so will the kidnappers when they get back. Attempted murder will be added to kidnap and extortion and they’ll go to prison for a very long time.’
Spencer shook his head slowly in amazement then frowned. ‘That’s some tale. You’re
a brave woman. Aren’t you worried about what they might do in the future?’
‘At first I said I wouldn’t testify against them but Sergeant Beatty assured me that the Morrisons wouldn’t dare harm me or anyone close to me again because the finger would point straight at them.’
When he left, Laura felt heartened by the concern he’d shown her but she was under no illusions. Spencer had made it plain that he wasn’t fully holding out an olive branch but that didn’t matter; she wasn’t looking to be friends with him. The Morrisons would be brought to justice for their crimes, Andrew was alive and well and she could see Vicki again. After the last harrowing two days, she couldn’t have felt happier.
* * *
Cecil Roach hadn’t been able to sleep but rather than tossing and turning, he welcomed the opportunity to slip away to his attic study. Padding up there in his dressing gown and slippers, he lit a paraffin heater and used a primus stove to make a cup of tea. After he had drunk the tea, he settled down by the light of an oil lantern in his armchair and turned over the pages of his most graphic illegal magazine. His favourite girl was in here, Etta, a big-breasted continental girl who struck poses that would make a gymnast weep. Within moments his body had heated up to fever pitch and he was giving full vent to his feelings. With the first release over, he lay back, leaving himself exposed, to await the next delicious moments at his leisure.
Barbara woke at a more hospitable hour and thankful not to find her husband beside her, she dashed out of bed. She dressed rapidly and was soon preparing breakfast. Tomorrow the new school term started but unless the snow thawed quickly and things returned to normal, the children would not be able to attend and it would mean another day’s delay before her vile husband was given the news she and Marianne were dreading having to tell him.
At eight o’clock Marianne came down for breakfast. She was dressed in slacks, which she couldn’t zip up at the side, the opening covered with a long thick jumper. She’d always loved the snow and although she was keeping away from people, Barbara knew she would go out in the garden after breakfast to tread through it.
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