‘Yes, yes, yes!’ he shouted, kissing her. ‘As soon as you’ve finished here, I’m taking you down to the vicarage to arrange our wedding date with Mr Farrow.’
‘Congratulations,’ Ince said, smiling down on them. ‘You can go now, if you like. I don’t mind finishing up here.’
‘You’re an angel, Ince,’ Andrew said gratefully, leading Tressa away.
‘Not an angel,’ Ince said wistfully, returning to the cattle. ‘Just a man wanting the same as you.’
‘We’ll give this village the biggest wedding it’s ever seen,’ Andrew said, eyeing Tressa, half expecting the girl who had lived for so long in men’s clothing to object.
‘I can’t wait,’ she said happily, hugging him tightly as they walked over the turf. ‘You look so handsome in a suit.’
‘I thought you’d want a quiet do, darling. No fuss at all.’
‘Andrew Macarthur, after what we’ve been through together, when I think how I could have lost you at Reddacoombe Farm and if you hadn’t persisted with me, I want the whole world to know how much I love you.’
Chapter 35
Having had a particularly good night with his obscene magazines, Cecil Roach was in a chirpy mood as he sat down for breakfast. Barbara put a piping hot plateful of scrambled eggs in front of him and a rack of golden toast cut in perfect triangles. They did not speak. Hardly a word had passed between them since he’d thrown Marianne out and given Barbara a merciless beating. But this morning Cecil felt like talking.
‘I hear the Davey girl is getting married,’ he said, stuffing a mouthful of food between his thin cruel lips.
Barbara never watched him eat; he had more than one vile habit and it made her feel physically sick. She avoided sitting at the table with him and had eaten her breakfast earlier. She was forced to turn round and face him. Why had he mentioned Tressa Davey? Barbara had also been in church on Sunday and heard the first banns being called.
‘So I understand,’ she replied in the blandest voice she could find.
‘The Jeffries girl is doing well at school. Excellent at arithmetic. Inclined to chat a lot to that Miller boy so she’s often standing in the corner. I shall have to make sure they don’t sit together.’
‘Has Benjamin settled down well?’ Barbara asked, remembering to call the boy by his full given name.
‘Not too bad, not much of a scholar but good at physical jerks. He should do well in the school sports day in the summer.’
‘That’s good.’ And you’ll take all the credit as usual.
‘Are you going to attend to that mess on the landing this morning?’ He gulped down a mouthful of tea and licked the drips off the side of the cup with one long swipe of his tongue. He hated to see tea stains on the crockery.
Barbara suppressed a shudder. ‘Yes, I am.’ Of course I am. That’s the third time you’ve mentioned that tiny spot of dirt since you noticed it last evening.
‘Well, then, I’d better be off.’ He belched. ‘I have a lot to do this morning. The men are arriving to put the maypole up and as it’s a dry day, the children can learn a new dance.’
‘The children will like that.’ The children will hate it, but you don’t care that it’s bitterly cold outside with a biting south-easterly wind.
Before leaving the room, Cecil gave her a firm kiss on the cheek. Barbara slumped into a chair. This meant he would want to have his way with her again. The one blessed relief of the savage beating she’d received was that he had left her alone. Now the whole beastly business would begin all over again, and judging by the sounds that had emanated from his study last night he probably had some new ideas to try out on her.
Cecil put on his coat and carefully positioned his hat and scarf. He picked up his briefcase to leave the house then remembered he had taken some papers up to the study last night to read and sign before he enjoyed himself. He went up to his study. He picked up the papers but before he put them in his briefcase he noticed Etta, the continental beauty, smiling beguilingly at him from a centrefold.
Cecil glanced at his watch. He had just enough time…
At eight forty-five Barbara called up to him. ‘Cecil, are you aware of the time?’
He came back fully to the real world and hastily piled papers into his briefcase. He dashed to the bathroom, washed his hands and hurried off to the school.
As soon as he was out of the house, Barbara went to the public telephone box; she daren’t run up a bill at home. She asked the operator to get her a number in Barnstaple in Devon.
‘Mum?’ Marianne answered at once. ‘You’re a bit late ringing. I was getting worried about you.’
‘Your father was late leaving the house. How are you, dear? And Aunt Marta?’
‘We’re both fine, Mum. When are you coming, to join us? Aunt Marta sent the train fare down to you weeks ago.’
‘I’ll get away as soon as I can,’ Barbara said, trying to sound convincing. She couldn’t tell Marianne that Cecil had threatened that if she ever left him to join her, he would track them down and cause as much trouble as he could. A schoolmaster with a wayward daughter was bad enough, a deserting wife could cost him his position. Marta had been delighted to have Marianne, and soon the baby, live with her in her big house. She wanted Barbara to join them so they could make a fresh start in a safe environment, but although Barbara longed to go, how could she put Marianne and her grandchild at risk?
‘You keep saying that, Mum,’ Marianne pressured her. ‘If you’re afraid to make the break, ask Laura Jennings to help you. I’m sure she would hide your suitcases and help you get to the railway station.’
‘It’s difficult, dear. You know what your father is like. I promise I’ll come as soon as I can. It’s you I’m ringing about. What did the midwife say?’
‘She said everything is going well. Do come up soon, Mum. I want you with me for the birth. I can’t wait to show you all the little things I’ve made for the baby since I’ve learned to knit. Aunt Marta has got your room ready. All we need is you.’
‘I must go now, dear. I’ve run out of money to put into the telephone box. I’ll ring you next week.’ Barbara put the receiver down and wept quietly for a few moments before going out into the cold air.
* * *
After assembly, Cecil took Class One for their daily arithmetic. He chalked up some simple sums on the blackboard and told the children to copy them into their books and work out the correct answers. ‘In neat writing that I am able to read clearly, don’t forget, children, then Miss Knight will be here to supervise half an hour at the sandpit for those of you who are good.’
Vicki and Benjy had been separated and she was sitting at a little single desk in front of him. With her head bent studiously over her work, she completed her sums in half the set time.
‘What’s the answer to the second one?’ Benjy whispered to her.
‘That’s easy,’ Vicki hissed back scornfully. ‘Six and four equals ten.’
Cecil looked up from some exercise books he was marking. ‘Victoria Jeffries, are you talking again?’
‘Y-yes, sir.’
‘Stand up when you talk to me, girl!’
Vicki had forgotten one of the golden rules she’d had drummed into her since starting school. She shot to her feet. ‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.’
‘Have you finished your work?’
‘Yes, sir.’
He beckoned to her. ‘Bring it here.’
Vicki put her exercise book nervously on his desk. Cecil flicked through her answers. They were all correct. Rather than getting the telling off she had feared, Mr Roach seemed pleased with her and gave her a beaming smile. ‘I can see why your attention wandered. You need more of a challenge in this subject because you are very good at it, Victoria. I shall have a word with your father and suggest I set some harder work for you. I’m sure you won’t let me down, will you?’
Vicki shook her head then remembered another golden rule, to answer a teacher’s question with clear speech. ‘No,
sir.’
‘I’m sure you will pass the county examination with flying colours. Do the school proud.’ He patted her on the head, which Vicki hated. ‘I would have let you play in the sandpit all on your own but as you were talking, you must return to your desk and stay there until the last child has finished.’ He passed her a clean sheet of white paper. ‘You may draw and colour in a picture of your father’s farm for him and the other parents to see.’ Cecil liked the parents to believe he was encouraging art among their offspring.
Vicki returned to her seat, lifted the lid of her desk and took out her crayons. She drew a picture of the farm, with cattle in the fields and herself, her father, Ince and Laura in the yard.
Cecil got up to tend to the open fire at the front of the classroom. It irked him that he had to use his valuable time on such a menial task, but he didn’t want to badger the authority for an oil heating system while the possibility remained that the school might be closed down to merge with another for financial reasons.
He opened his briefcase to extract his papers and put them out for the secretary who came in once a week. To his horror he saw that in his haste to leave his study he had put one of his private magazines in with them. He shut his briefcase quickly. A few moments later desire caught hold of him. Did he dare take one crafty little look? Piercing the children with his beady eyes for several moments, which ensured all young heads were bent over their exercise books, he returned to the fire holding his briefcase. With his back to the children, he took out the magazine.
The lead of Benjy Miller’s pencil broke. He was worried. If he didn’t finish his sums at the same time as the other children, Mr Roach would be very cross. He got up from his desk and nervously approached the schoolmaster. ‘P-please, Mr Roach—’
‘Oh!’ Cecil threw the magazine on the fire in fright. He whirled round and grabbing Benjy by the arm marched him to his desk. ‘How dare you startle me like that, boy!’
The classroom door opened and Cecil received another fright. It was Miss Knight. ‘The secretary has arrived and is waiting for you in your office, Mr Roach.’
Cecil hastily composed himself. ‘Thank you, Miss Knight. I will be along in a moment. I’m just slipping out of the room for a few minutes, children,’ he said in his most authoritative voice. ‘Be sure that when I come back you are getting on with your work. Woe betide you if you are not. As for you, Benjamin Miller,’ he scowled down on the unfortunate little boy, ‘stand in the corner next to my desk until I get back and then your explanation had better be a good one.’
When Mr Roach had followed Miss Knight out of the room, Vicki looked sympathetically at Benjy’s quaking back, then the fire took her attention. The magazine had made the flames dance, sending crazy shadows over the walls. She watched them for a while then looked back at the cavorting flames. Mr Roach had forgotten to put the fireguard back and sitting at the front of the classroom she had a wonderful view. It was as good as bonfire night. The magazine unfolded and slipped off the coals. It hit the floor and within moments the mat in front of the fire was ablaze.
* * *
Laura had done her housework and was walking up the hill to do her daily stint in the shop. The atmosphere had been tense for the first few days after the revelation that Daisy had cheated two generations of Jenningses out of their share of the shop, but an agreement had been worked out and things were back to normal now. Daisy had savings of one thousand pounds and she was to give Laura half of it. Laura was to receive half of the takings from the shop from now on and have her say in running it. The burglar had been apprehended while attempting a similar robbery in Bodmin and a few of Daisy’s valuables had been returned. The two women now only wanted to put the episode behind them.
Laura’s new life looked set in a solid and enjoyable pattern. She saw her friends and Vicki often, and today she was to collect her from school. They would have tea together before Laura took her home. She had a wedding to look forward to and had been charged with helping Tressa to choose her dress on a day trip to Plymouth.
‘Good morning, Mrs Jennings.’
Laura stopped. ‘Hello, Mrs Prisk, rather parky today,’ she said, rubbing her hands together.
‘That’s your soft city-dwelling life telling on you,’ Ada said bitingly. ‘How are the wedding plans going?’
‘Are you referring to Andrew’s and Tressa’s?’ Laura asked mischievously.
Ada grabbed her arm. ‘Why? Is somebody else getting married?’
‘No, Mrs Prisk, I was just teasing you. Are you walking up to the shop? That’s where I’m going. The wedding plans are going well. The cakes have been made and the hall’s booked for the reception. Everyone in the village is going to be invited.’
‘That’s nice of Mr Macarthur, but then I’ve always said what a fine young man he is,’ Ada stated as they walked on. ‘Are you going to be one of those matrons-of-honour or whatever they call it?’
‘No, Tressa won’t be having any bridesmaids.’
‘Really?’ Ada gave Laura a nudge. ‘I thought Vicki Jeffries might be one. I suppose one of his London friends will be best man.’
‘Andrew’s got a brother, actually, but as it will be a long, tiring journey for him and he has a young family, Mike Penhaligon—’ Laura stopped and sniffed the air. ‘Can you smell something?’
Ada sniffed and snorted. ‘Smells like someone’s got a chimney fire.’
Laura stepped out into the middle of the road to get a better view of the village. What she saw almost made her heart stop. ‘It’s the school! It’s on fire!’ Then she was tearing back down the hill. ‘Vicki! Oh, God help me! Vicki!’
Chapter 36
Laura rushed into the school as some of the older children were spilling out of the building to safety under the charge of Miss Knight.
Laura clutched the teacher’s arm. ‘Where’s Vicki Jeffries? Are the little ones out yet?’
‘They’re trapped in their classroom,’ Miss Knight cried, coughing as black smoke overtook them.
Laura plunged on. She saw Cecil Roach running towards her. ‘Get out! Get out!’ He waved his arms at her.
‘But the children!’ Laura screamed.
‘We can’t do anything for them. The door’s on fire,’ Cecil shouted and he broke into a fit of coughing.
He ran outside and Laura raced after him. She grabbed hold of him so violently he nearly lost his footing. ‘You can’t just leave them in there, you coward. Go back inside and do something.’
‘That would be madness. My wife has rung for the fire brigade.’ He thrust her away indignantly. ‘There’s nothing we can do but wait for them to deal with it.’
‘But it will take ages for them to get here down the lanes.’
Mothers were turning up in both playgrounds. Some were gratefully taking their children away while others were distraught for those still inside. And there were screams. The screams of the little children trapped in their burning classroom.
Laura ran to the window. It was about five feet off the ground, triangular in shape with a granite sill and six large panes rising up to the roof. Joy Miller and Ada Prisk joined her and Laura turned desperately to them.
‘Their only chance is for one of us to climb in through the window and pass them out. We need something to stand on.’
‘The dustbins,’ Ada cried. ‘We can empty one out and turn it upside down.’
‘I’ll get it,’ Joy said, running off
Laura put her hands on the sill and peered inside. She couldn’t make out much in the smoke and the flames which were consuming the wall of the fireplace, but from the children’s screams she guessed they had crowded away from the door and were huddled down in a heap under the window out of sight.
‘Vicki! Vicki! Can you hear me!’ she shouted, abject fear making adrenalin course through her veins and giving her a heady strength and feeling of steely determination.
‘Laura,’ a small, terrified voice called back.
‘It’s all right, Vicki.
I’m coming in to get you and the others. Just stay where you are and keep down low where there is less smoke.’
Joy Miller was back with the dustbin. Laura climbed up on it and peered in through the window. She could just see the tops of the children’s heads. With dismay she realised she would have to get them away from the window so they wouldn’t be showered with glass when she broke it. She would have to rely on Vicki to trust her and keep a clear head.
‘Hurry, Laura,’ Joy Miller pleaded with her. ‘Benjy gets asthma. He won’t last as long as the others.’
‘Vicki, listen to me,’ Laura shouted. ‘Get the children to move along the wall and away from the window. I have to break the glass. Did you hear me, darling?’
‘Yes,’ Vicki murmured fearfully.
The children were all holding hands. Vicki was at the end of the line and she tugged them along after her, shouting at them to follow her. Smoke billowed over her face and she started coughing.
Laura ripped off her coat and wound it round her arm. She smashed one of the lowest panes and knocked out the remaining shards of glass. Then she hauled herself through the opening and dropped down on the floor. One quick look told her she had only a few moments to get the children out. She knew there were ten children in Vicki’s class and one was at home today with a cold.
‘Don’t worry, children,’ she said, waving at smoke wafting towards them. ‘You’ll soon be safe.’
She pushed a desk under the window and climbing up on it held out her arms. Her immediate thought was to get Vicki out first but this was also the safest choice since she had already shown some bravery and the other children were more likely to follow her and not stay put in a panic.
‘Vicki! Come to me quickly. I’m going to lift you out to Mrs Miller.’
Vicki ran to her, bringing Benjy with her, and the line of children followed on. Laura grabbed Vicki none too gently and lifting her up high thrust her into Joy’s waiting arms. Joy passed her to Ada who passed her on to another mother who led her away from the burning building. Benjy was out next and then the next child. Four, five, six. The line was broken as a sheet of flame spread across the ceiling, blowing Laura off the desk. The remaining children fell back screaming.
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