It was strangely silent, there were no sounds of wildlife or the rustle of grass; even the wind had stopped blowing although the mist swirled eerily all around her. Her head bent low over the saddle, she strained for sounds of rushing water that would mean the Withy Brook was not far away. She was wet through and shivering and continually had to wipe moisture from her eyelashes. Never had she felt more alone. Fear and desolation were mounting inside her by the second. She had found a new life, but how long was she going to live it?
Time passed; it seemed like hours. She looked at her watch and saw that it was over an hour since she had started back. In that time they had splashed through streams and rounded sudden outcrops of granite, the moorland growth pulling at the pony’s hooves and unsettling it. At times Laura was forced to dismount and lead Honesty through an almost impenetrable ground of tangled brambles or tightly packed gorse and dead bracken. She was desperate to come across a deserted farm to shelter in until the mist cleared, her terror growing that she would have to spend the night on the open moor. Unwary people had been lost before and not survived. The solitude she had enjoyed earlier had turned into a feeling of bleak aloneness.
Honesty suddenly whinnied nervously and reared up. She backed up and Laura grasped the reins tightly. She panicked when she realised the mare’s hooves were sinking into marshy ground. They had not passed over ground like this on the way to the Bronze Age settlement. She knew they were hopelessly lost.
They were slipping down a waterlogged slope. Honesty couldn’t keep her footing and Laura made to dismount. Honesty bucked violently and she was thrown from the saddle. She hit the ground with a squelchy thump, screaming at the pony to come back as it tore off in fear, leaving her face and clothes splashed with thick mud. Laura sat up to get her breath and her insides froze as she heard Honesty whinnying in terror and struggling. The pony had run into a bog and was sinking fast.
Chapter 32
Felicity hurried out of her car and dashed into the kitchen of Rosemerryn Farm. Spencer and Vicki, who were peeling potatoes together at the sink, turned round in surprise.
‘Before you say anything, Spencer,’ Felicity blurted out, holding up her hands to still his protests, ‘Laura’s out on the moor in this mist. I’ve just come back from the hairdresser’s to find she had gone riding to Bastreet Downs to look at the settlements. That was about three hours ago. She wouldn’t have had time to get back before the mist came down and now it’s getting dark. When I left Hawksmoor, there was no sign of her. I’m terribly worried. If she hasn’t stayed in one place she’s almost certainly lost by now. I’m worried she might have wandered onto Redmoor Marsh and come a cropper. Could you go and look for her? Harry’s gone to Truro on business and the stable boy’s not experienced enough so I daren’t send him.’
Spencer’s mouth was agape. Drying his hands, he lifted Vicki down off the stool she was kneeling on. It was strange having this woman back in his house after so many years but that didn’t matter. He was sorry now that he had dragged his heels over telling Vicki about her grandmother and had not spoken to Felicity as he had intended to do. ‘Ince won’t be back for a while. He’s attending a calving. Will you stay with Vicki so I can leave straightaway?’
‘Of course I will,’ Felicity said, smiling at her granddaughter who was holding on to her father’s leg with a sulky face. ‘You don’t need to ask that, Spencer.’ Spencer lowered himself down and put his hands on Vicki’s waist. ‘Do you understand what’s happening, pipkin? Laura could be in danger and it’s very important that I go at once to find her. My horse is used to all weather conditions on the moor. This lady is called Felicity, you’ve seen her about the village. She’s going to stay with you until Uncle Ince comes in or Daddy gets back. Now you be a good girl for her.’ He kissed his daughter’s cheek. ‘I have to go now and get ready.’
Vicki hugged him and reluctantly let him go. ‘Hurry, Daddy, find Laura. I want her to be my new mummy.’ Spencer made no remark. A strained look passed between him and Felicity. He left the room to change into wet weather clothing.
Smiling uncertainly at Vicki, who was glaring at her frostily, Felicity took off her headscarf and coat; her hairdo was quite ruined. ‘Were you and Daddy making supper, Vicki?’ she said. ‘Perhaps I can help you instead?’
Vicki folded her arms and put up her chin. It was something Natalie used to do when cross and Felicity was overcome with emotion. She felt out of place as her granddaughter stood defiantly in her little pinny in the middle of the room and Spencer rushed about picking up items he might need. When he had finally gone, Vicki marched back to the sink and climbed up onto the stool. She picked up a potato and the knife and Felicity rushed over to her.
‘I don’t think you ought to be using that knife, Vicki. Why don’t I peel the potatoes like your Daddy was and you carry on with what you were doing.’
‘He was passing me the spuds to put in the saucepan.’ Vicki’s voice was loud and decidedly surly.
‘I see he’s already done carrots, parsnips, turnip and onions. What was he going to cook?’
‘Stew.’
‘Do you like stew, dear?’ Felicity asked, passing her granddaughter a peeled potato.
Vicki held it up high and dropped it into the saucepan so it made a loud plop and splashed water over the sides. ‘No, I don’t like stew,’ she retorted rudely. ‘If you make it I won’t eat it and don’t call me dear.’
‘Vicki,’ Felicity implored her, ‘why are you behaving like this?’
Vicki scrambled down from the stool and pulling off her pinny threw it on the floor. ‘I don’t like you!’ she stormed.
Stung to the depths of her heart, Felicity left the sink and asked her daughter’s only child, ‘But why not, Vicki?’
‘Benjy Miller said you are my granny and you don’t love me. His granny gives him presents and knits him jumpers and comes to see him and has him back to her place to stay overnight. You don’t want anything to do with me. You don’t love me.’ Vicki ended by stamping her foot.
Tears of grief welled up in Felicity’s eyes. ‘That’s not true, Vicki. Perhaps when your daddy comes back he’ll explain things to you. Why don’t you play with your toys while I carry on with the supper?’
Her little face still dark and heated, Vicki went huffily to her doll’s cot. She wanted to ignore this stranger but there was something she didn’t want to miss out on. She stood close to Felicity as she put the chopped beef on the range to boil.
‘Yes, Vicki? Do you want something?’ Felicity asked cautiously.
‘Daddy said I could see the new calf,’ she muttered ungraciously. ‘He was going to take me out to Uncle Ince in the barn. They put her in there ’cos of the weather. I’m not allowed to go by myself ’cos I might get in the way.’
‘Well, this meat isn’t going to boil for ages. Why don’t we put our coats on and go to the barn now, then we can see how much longer it will be before the calf is born.’
Vicki refused to be helped into her outdoor clothes and when they were both ready, she stuffed her hands into her pockets. She reminded Felicity so much of Natalie; she hadn’t been afraid to speak her mind and get on her high horse either. It was almost pitch dark and by the light of Felicity’s torch they made their way across the mist-shrouded yard. Vicki pushed open the barn door, ushered Felicity inside, then closed it as she had been taught to do.
Ince was at the back of the barn, at the tail end of the cow, pulling on the protruding front legs of the emerging calf. One mighty pull, a long loud moan from the cow and the calf slithered out in its birth sac. Ince lowered it safely onto the straw. He wiped the calf’s mouth then pulled it round to its mother who immediately began licking it clean.
‘Uncle Ince! Uncle Ince! I saw it. I came in time,’ Vicki shrieked, jumping up and down.
‘I didn’t hear you come in, sweetheart. You’re just in time to name the calf,’ Ince said without looking round at the newcomers. ‘’Tis a fine healthy calf, mate,’ he added with
much satisfaction, thinking he was talking to Spencer.
‘Laura,’ Vicki almost shouted. ‘I want to call the calf Laura.’
‘Now why does that come as no surprise to me?’ Ince turned round with a big smile on his gentle face. ‘Mrs Lean! You’re the last person I expected to see here.’
‘I’m here because Laura’s out on the moor in the mist. Spencer’s gone to look for her,’ Felicity explained, the strain of the worry and Vicki’s hostility plain on her face. Her dishevelled hair bothered Ince. He had only ever seen her immaculately groomed.
Vicki climbed over the bales of straw Ince had put up as a draught excluder for the cow and calf, and squeezing herself between him and the calf she put her arms round his neck looking for comfort. ‘Daddy will find Laura, won’t he, Uncle Ince? He won’t let her stay out all night?’
‘Daddy will do his best, sweetheart, don’t worry.’ He cuddled her in close and Felicity felt jealous that he could give her grandchild the comfort that she could not.
‘Shall I leave Vicki with you while I go back and look after the supper?’ she asked in a small, defeated voice.
‘It might be best,’ Ince replied sombrely. He had correctly summed up the situation between them. ‘Poor Laura. First Andrew Macarthur is kidnapped, Jacka Davey has a heart attack and now this.’
* * *
Spencer held the lantern high and shouted for the umpteenth time. ‘Laura! Laura!’ He listened for an answering voice or the whinny of a pony but there was nothing in response except the wail of the bone-chilling wind that had whipped up and was thankfully dispersing the mist.
He had crossed the wooden bridge over the Withey Brook and was on Bastreet Downs. In the growing darkness, vision was limited to five feet. Splendour, his sleek black stallion, was accustomed to the popular moorland tracks and they followed the route Laura had taken to the ancient settlement. Occasionally Spencer saw a hoof print in the black mud and felt encouraged that he was on the right track.
When he reached the settlement, he circled it calling to her. At the foot of the barrow, something caught his eye and he dismounted. He had found Laura’s red chiffon scarf which she hadn’t picked up in her hurry to leave. It smelled of her familiar musky perfume. He pushed it into his pocket.
‘So you were here. But where are you now?’
Back in the saddle, he stroked Splendour’s strong neck. ‘Where is she, boy? My guess is that she would have let Honesty try to find the way home. So what went wrong?’ His guts were knotting by the moment. If he didn’t find her tonight, a daylight search would probably only discover a body. He urged Splendour on. All he could do was hope he’d come across her by chance.
He could see Vicki’s sweet face and knew what it would do to her if she lost Laura. He didn’t want Laura to be lost either, that beautiful, vital woman who had become a small part of his life too.
He was on East Moor now where the dreaded Redmoor Marsh was to be found. Loose stones did not scuttle away from the horse’s feet here because they were embedded in the soft muddy ground. Splendour was trained to avoid the dangers of the marsh; if he came to soft ground he would lower his head and snort agitatedly but would have no difficulty in skirting it. Nevertheless, Spencer was scared, his pulse rate had heightened and nervous sweat trickled down his back.
He pulled the stallion up suddenly. He thought he had heard something. He put his hands round his mouth and shouted as loudly as he could. ‘Laura! Laura!’
There it was again. It might be the call of a small animal, a murmur on the wind or a cry for help. His boots sank into deep mud as he dismounted and led Splendour by the reins in the general direction of the noise, stopping and shouting at regular intervals, warily testing the ground. If it was Laura out there, his shouts would encourage her. He stopped once more to listen.
‘Help…’
He made out the cry that time. ‘Laura! It’s all right. I’m coming for you.’
‘Help me!’
Fairly sure of her location, he got on the stallion and urged it over the slippery turf. After several yards, Splendour came to a halt and refused to go on, shaking his magnificent head. Trusting the horse’s instincts Spencer let it walk at will but kept it in the direction of the cries.
‘Laura! Where are you? Stay calm and keep shouting so I can follow the sound of your voice.’
‘Help me. I’m over here.’ Her voice was weak but unmistakable. ‘Careful, the ground is marshy.’
With the lantern at face level, he scanned the gloomy surroundings. ‘Find a stone and throw it in front of you, Laura! I’ll listen for where it falls.’
A cry of exertion was quickly followed by a dull thud about ten feet away. Within a few minutes he had reached Laura. Putting the lantern on the ground, he found her huddled in a sitting position, her white face tilted up to him. She was not far from a saucer-like depression of deep marsh. Keeping Splendour close by, he knelt down beside her and she leaned into him. ‘Oh, Spencer. Thank God you’ve come. I was afraid to move. I thought I was going to die out here all alone.’
He pulled a small lightweight blanket out of his bag and put it round her shoulders. ‘I’ll get you onto my horse,’ he said soothingly, using a voice he often employed with Vicki. ‘You’ll feel better away from the wet ground. Do you think you can walk?’ He lifted her to her feet and she groaned as she straightened her stiff limbs. ‘I’ll gladly carry you but you’ll warm up a little if you can walk.’
She gripped his coat and cried, ‘Honesty’s dead. I heard her drown in the marsh.’
He gave her a small hug. ‘There’s nothing we can do about that now. The best thing is to get you home safe and warm. You wandered way off the track. We’ve got a long way to go.’
She had no strength in her legs and he held her upright as he walked her the short distance to where Splendour was patiently waiting.
‘What’s the time? How long have I been out here?’
‘It’s about six o’clock. What time did you set off?’
‘One thirty,’ she groaned. ‘It feels as if I’ve been out here for ever.’
‘Never mind that now. I’ll soon have you home.’
He lifted her up on to Splendour’s back then swung up in the saddle behind her. She leaned against him and holding the reins with one hand, he used the other to clasp her to him.
‘I was so frightened,’ Laura whispered, reliving every bitter lonely moment since Honesty’s terrified whinnies had stopped. ‘How did you know I was in danger?’
‘Felicity came to the farm. I left her there with Vicki because Ince was helping a calf into the world.’
This made Laura think of something other than her ordeal. ‘I’m glad it was Felicity. It will give them a chance to get to know each other.’
‘I haven’t said anything to Vicki yet, and judging by her face when I left, it wasn’t going very well, but we can’t worry about that now. It’s important to get you home and warm and dry. My horse is trained to cope with all moorland conditions. He should have no trouble finding his way back off the moor.’
Journeying slowly in the hazardous conditions, it took another two hours before they trotted into the village. Feeling secure, Laura had dozed off to sleep and she woke up with a start when Spencer lifted her down. He left Splendour tied to the lych gate.
‘It looks like paradise in here,’ she mumbled as she looked round the front room of Little Cot from his strong arms.
Laura had long learned how to feed the range in the kitchen and it never went out. Spencer carried her into the cosy room. He put her down on a chair and pulled the kettle across to boil for tea. He looked at her pale, drawn face. ‘You’d better get out of those wet clothes.’
‘The bathroom’s through there,’ she murmured, pointing feebly. ‘I won’t be long.’
‘How do you feel now?’ he asked gently when she came back clad in her bathrobe with a towel round her head. ‘I’ve brought a blanket downstairs for you.’
She sat down and gratef
ully took a cup of hot steaming tea from him. ‘Thanks, I’m much better now but I feel terrible about Honesty. I’d only ridden her for a couple of hours but she had such a steady nature. How am I going to tell Felicity? How am I going to tell Harry? It was his pony.’
‘It wasn’t your fault, Laura. Even seasoned moor dwellers have been caught out in sudden weather changes on the moor. I have. Ince has.’
‘But you probably knew what to do. You probably stayed where you knew it was reasonably safe and didn’t wander off and risk an animal’s life.’ Tears of wretchedness filled her eyes and she let them slide unchecked down her cheeks. ‘I shall never forgive myself for what happened. If you had been hurt or had died, then Vicki would have lost her father as well as her mother.’
Spencer knelt beside her and wiped her tears away with his fingers. ‘You’re making too much of this, Laura. I wasn’t at risk,’ he lied, ‘and Vicki would have been distraught if anything had happened to you. I had to find you as much for her sake as your own.’
Laura’s face lit up. ‘Do I mean that much to her?’
‘You’re special to all of us. Now drink your tea, it’ll warm you up. Do you want something to eat?’
She shook her head. He stood up and busied himself making a hot water bottle. ‘Which room do you sleep in?’
‘Up the top of the stairs, second on the right.’ It felt strangely lonely when he went upstairs with the hot water bottle, not the terrible aching loneliness she’d suffered on the moor, but she was left with a longing for human companionship and his was as good as anybody’s; in fact she was glad it was him.
‘Do you want to go to bed now?’ he asked when he reappeared. ‘You look all in.’
‘I should have a bath and wash my hair but it’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I think I will go up now.’ She rose and her knees immediately trembled and refused to take her weight.
Kilgarthen Page 37