The Harrogate Secret (aka The Secret)

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘That will be all right, Roy. I don’t mind. And…and thank you so much.’

  ‘That’s all right, madam. That’s all right. And let me say now what I think, madam, an’ that is you’re doin’ the right thing, yes you are, in gettin’ away from there. It’s a pity you ever came, it is that. Mary’s told me quite a bit about you, madam. Are you comfortable?’

  ‘Oh, yes, yes, thank you.’

  ‘Well, we’ll get goin’ then.’ He nodded at her, then jumped down from the back of the cart and mounted the front seat again. And so for the second time in her life, she escaped from The Towers.

  The first part of the journey she found excruciating, for her torn body registered every bump in the road. But once they reached the village the much smoother swaying of the cart almost lulled her into sleep.

  Before they reached the market Roy descended from his high seat and, going round to the back of the cart, he said, ‘You all right, madam?’

  She nodded, then said quietly, ‘Yes, yes, thank you, Roy.’

  ‘I’ve just thought, madam: seeing as Mr Martin won’t be back from Harrogate the night there’s nobody back there to check on me, how long I’ve been, and so I’m gona take you down to the ferry or where you can get a boat across. Which would you like to travel in, the ferry or the sculler?’

  ‘Whatever comes first, Roy. And thank you so much, that will be a great help.’

  Again he took his seat and the cart now rumbled over the cobbled road that led down to the waterfront. Here he stopped it, and again hurried round to her, saying quickly, ‘We’re in luck, madam; the ferry’s just come in.’

  She now eased herself slowly forward from the blankets to the edge of the cart; and there he put his arms under her oxters and gently lifted her onto her feet. But she swayed and leant against him for a moment, and he said, ‘Just hang on there near that rail for a minute, will you, madam, till I tie the horse to the post? Then I’ll take you down and see you set.’

  When, a moment later, he went to take her arm she put her hand out and pressed two shillings towards him, for she realised now that she would still have more than enough to see her across the river.

  ‘Oh, madam, I don’t want that. I haven’t done this for money.’

  ‘No, I know you haven’t, Roy; but I’m so grateful to you and to Mary. I’ll never forget either of you. I’ve…I’ve told Mary.’

  ‘Mary thinks highly of you, madam. From the moment she saw you. Well now, d’you think you can walk to the ferry?’

  ‘Oh, yes, yes.’

  She had said, yes, yes, but she found she was hardly able to put one leg before the other. It wasn’t only the pain now, it was a great weakness that seemed to be overpowering her.

  Not until she was seated did he leave her; but just before taking his departure he bent down, put his lips close to her ear and said, ‘Could I say to you, madam, that you should see your solicitor. You’ve got a case. It’s not right. They should have told you.’

  She didn’t ask, Tell me what? because she knew; but she was feeling so ill now that she could make no response to him, she could only hold out her hand and touch his.

  The movement of the small ferry told her that she was on her way home; even so, she wasn’t aware when it stopped until a voice said, ‘Well, we’re here, missis.’

  When she lifted her head and looked at the man who was one of the small crew, he said softly, ‘Oh, my, my! Come on, lass,’ and he helped her to rise from the seat, calling to another man, ‘Give me a hand here, will you? This lady’s not well.’

  She felt herself being lifted bodily onto the quay; then the man was speaking to her again: ‘Anybody to meet you, missis?’ he asked.

  She peered at him, but didn’t answer. Then one of the passengers took the man aside, saying, ‘That’s Maggie Hewitt’s girl, the one that married and went across the water to live.’

  ‘My God! So it is. I didn’t recognise her. Well, this is a to-do. Somebody’s busted her up and done the job well. Poor lass.’ He turned to her again, saying, ‘I think you’d better rest on the quay, missis, and somebody’ll go and tell Freddie Musgrave. That’s where you’re makin’ for, isn’t it?’

  She was swaying slightly as she turned to the man who had been a passenger on the ferry: ‘Would…would you be so kind as to help me to Miss…Miss Hewitt’s office on the quay?’ she asked him.

  ‘Yes, yes; of course I’ll do that.’ The man took her arm, and slowly now they made their way past interested spectators along the Low Lights, and then there she was entering Maggie’s office.

  The sight of her brought Andy Stevens up from his desk and caused George Hooper to drop his pen to the floor.

  When the man supporting her said, ‘The lady is not well, she needs seeing to,’ Andy Stevens came forward and, placing a chair, muttered, ‘Sit down. Sit down, miss…I mean missis. In the name of God, what’s happened to you? I better get Mr Musgrave. You, Hooper, go and see if you can find him. He was to see Skipper Hannan along at the fish quay. If he’s not there he’ll be at the top of the hill seeing what needs doing to that house. Go on. Go on, man.’

  Belle told herself she must not fall asleep. She did not put the name faint to the feeling that was overwhelming her, nor did she say she mustn’t become unconscious, but she told herself that she must not fall asleep until Freddie came. And when Freddie came she would be able to rest. Freddie would look after her. Oh, Freddie, Freddie.

  ‘What did you say, Mrs Birkstead?’

  She wanted to ask for a drink of water but the words wouldn’t come. The men were talking over her head; the voices were low, and they went on and on and on. She felt her body falling forward, and then hands staying her and keeping her upright. But the voices went on, until there was the sound of pounding steps on the wooden pavement that ran along the front of the buildings, and then the door burst open. And there he was. She tried to open her eyes to see him but she could only dimly make out his face.

  She spoke his name. Twice she said it: ‘Freddie. Freddie.’ And when his arms went about her she went to sleep.

  Seventeen

  And this sleep seemed to have taken over her life; for three days she floated in and out of it. At times she was aware of gentle hands on her and the familiar voice of Jinny saying, ‘Oh, me pet. Oh, me pet.’ And that other voice, that beloved voice, talking gently to her, talking her into the sleep again, telling her that never again would he let her go. Saying words to her that she never imagined he would utter…not Freddie.

  Then there were other voices that impinged upon the sleep: The doctor’s voice. Often she heard his voice. And then another strange voice and a word, ‘Horrendous’. She hadn’t heard that word before; she had read it, but she hadn’t heard it spoken. What was ‘horrendous’? There was one time she became afraid, because they brought the police into the room and she had done nothing. She tried to tell them that she had only run away.

  She came fully to herself one morning when the dawn was breaking. She had always been able to tell this through the chink in the curtains when they weren’t pulled closely enough together. Slowly she moved her head and looked to the side of her. There, seated in a chair close to the bed, was Jinny. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily; but all of a sudden she snorted and sat up with a slight jerk, then exclaimed, ‘Ah, pet! Ah, pet! You’re awake. You’re really awake. D’you want a drink, hinny?’

  ‘Yes, please, Jinny.’

  ‘Oh, you look better, lass.’ She was bending over her now, stroking the damp hair from her forehead. ‘And your face has gone down. Aw, you’ll soon be yourself again. Aw, I’ll wake him.’

  ‘Oh, no, no, don’t please.’

  ‘Oh, he’d want to know you’re back along of us again. He’s been sitting up night after night, but he was all in. Now lie there still, pet, and I’ll get you some tea. Oh my! Am I glad to see you lookin’ like that.’

  How was she looking? She didn’t know.

  How was she feeling? At the mom
ent she felt nothing, no searing pain, nothing, her body seemed at rest and free. At least, it was until she attempted to turn on her side; and then she let out a low groan for it was as if her skin had turned to stiff hide and was cracking in various places with her movements.

  She was lying fully on her side and gasping slightly when Freddie came in. His hair was wet and he was pushing it back from his forehead. It was as if his head had been immersed under the pump. She watched him grab a towel and dry his hands; then he was kneeling by the bed and his fingers were gently stroking her cheek.

  ‘Hello, my dear.’

  ‘Hello, Freddie.’

  She could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat. ‘Feel better?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, Freddie, so much better…How long is it since I came home?’

  ‘Four days.’

  ‘Four days!’ She looked away from him for a moment; then softly she said, ‘It’s a wonder I ever reached this side. I was helped by Mary and her young man.’

  She was looking at him again. ‘I must do…do something for them, Freddie.’

  ‘All right. All right. We’ll do something for them. Whoever helped you out of there, oh yes, we’ll do something for them. But don’t talk now. Ma’s bringing you a cup of tea; then I want you to go to sleep again.’

  ‘Freddie.’

  ‘Yes, my dear?’

  ‘You…you won’t let them take me…I mean, I can stay with you, can’t I? Freddie, I’ll never go…go back.’

  He slipped his arm gently behind her shoulders and, holding her thus and his face close to hers, he said, ‘No. That’s one thing you can be certain of, you’ll never go back. And another thing you can be certain of, my love, is that I’ll never leave you ever again. You are here to stay, always…You understand?’

  ‘Oh, Freddie, Freddie. Why…why did I do it? Why?’

  ‘Well, you were a young lass, headstrong. You always were, you know.’ He smiled at her. ‘And it’s my fault: I…I should have made myself plain long before now about…about how I felt for you.’

  ‘Oh, Freddie, Freddie, I wish you had, because…because I’ve always loved you. But…but I didn’t know which way until recently. And now it’s…it’s too late.’

  ‘Oh no, my dear, my dear, my dear, it’s not too late. You are never going back to that man. The witnesses who have seen the state you’re in will bear out that you have a case, and a very, very, strong case, to prove that the marriage is at an end. But now, don’t distress yourself. Lie back, that’s it, and go to sleep. Ah, what am I talking about? Here’s Ma with the tea.’

  He did not withdraw his arm from about her shoulders, but he took the cup and saucer from his mother with his free hand and held it while she slowly and thankfully drank the tea. Then when the cup was empty and he handed it back to his mother Belle put her hand out towards Jinny, and when it was clasped she said in a small voice, ‘You’ll never know, Jinny, how glad I am to see you.’

  Jinny, deeply touched, now wagged her head, saying, ‘Well, the best thing you can do is to prove it an’ get back on your feet an’ be a nuisance to me runnin’ in and out of that kitchen. D’you hear now?’ Then she turned abruptly and left the room. And Freddie, touching Belle’s face again with his fingers, said, ‘She’s been sick with worry over you, and those simple words can explain her feelings; but I’ll never find words to explain mine the minute I saw you down at that office. I’ll never forget my reaction as long as I live, because in that moment I could have really done murder. Oh yes’—he moved his head slowly up and down—‘that isn’t an exaggeration. If on that day I could have found him in the house across the water I would have certainly done murder. It was just as well he was away. And that’s another thing we’ll talk about. I’m going to be away for a day, maybe two, but you have no need to worry. John will be here all the time.’

  ‘John?’

  ‘Yes, my brother John. I’ve got him and the family in the empty terraced house at the top of the hill. It was a fine little house, if you remember, and I’ve never seen a happier man. To be able to go and tell the head gardener to tell his mistress that, all right, he would forfeit the three weeks pay owing to him, made him, as he said, feel like a king. They moved their stuff in yesterday, and now he’s working for me. And Ma couldn’t be happier about it. So he’ll be here night and day the time I’m gone.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Go to sleep now; we’ll talk about that later.’

  ‘Freddie, please.’

  ‘Shh! Be quiet.’ He stared down into her discoloured face; then slowly and gently he lowered his head until his mouth hung over hers, and then for the first time he really kissed her firmly but gently. And when her arms went round his neck he withdrew his lips from hers, saying, ‘There now, there now, no tears, no tears, not any more. We’re together and nothing can part us, nothing or no-one. Not any more.’

  ‘Nothing or no-one. Not any more…Freddie, he wrote those letters to the police. I found your name on the blotter; and you’ll have to go to court again, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes; I guessed he did. But now be quiet and go to sleep. That’s it, love, go to sleep.’

  Eighteen

  He arrived in Harrogate at twelve-thirty; quickly found an hotel, then ordered a cab to take him to Wellindean Hall.

  It was an hour all but five minutes before he heard the cab driver call to someone to open the gates; and then they were bowling up a long winding drive. The cab came to a halt at the foot of a flight of broad stone steps leading to a wide terrace, the masonry of which was looking the worse for wear, with coping stones off here and there.

  Bidding the cab driver wait, he crossed the terrace to the heavy closed door and pulled on the bell. It was some little time before the door was opened by a manservant who seemed to be almost bent double, so stooped were his shoulders; and so frail was he that he was unable to control two bounding dogs who barked and yelped all round Freddie’s legs, but in a quite friendly, welcoming way.

  ‘Yes, what?’

  ‘I would like to speak to Mr Fuller, please.’

  The hand was cupping the ear and the voice was loud as it repeated, ‘What?’

  Freddie moved nearer the man and in a louder voice said, ‘I would like to have a word with Mr Fuller.’

  The back endeavoured to straighten itself and the old butler said, ‘Colonel’s in bed. See nobody. But Mr James, he’s here somewhere.’

  ‘Could I have a word with him then?’

  ‘In the stables likely.’ He put out his arm and, his hand held at an angle, he pointed it as if the stables were further along the terrace, then added, ‘If not there, down at the farm, West Side.’

  Freddie gazed at him in silence for a moment before saying, ‘Thank you,’ then turned to take the direction the hand had indicated to find, when he rounded the corner of the house, he was in the stable yard. He noticed straight away that this was in parts overgrown with grass, and there seeming to be no-one about; he stood in the middle of the yard and shouted, ‘Is anyone there?’

  And then a head appeared over a horse box, the head of a lad. ‘Aye, yes, what’s it you want?’ he called back.

  ‘I’m looking for Mr Fuller.’

  ‘Oh.’ The head disappeared, and Freddie walked across the yard to the box and saw the lad talking to a man who was attending to a horse; in fact, he was on his hunkers rubbing the animal’s back leg. Freddie watched him straighten up, then rub his hands down his corduroy breeches before moving towards the half-door, saying in a voice that belied his attire, ‘Yes, what can I do for you?’

  The voice and the manner both demanded that the person should be addressed as ‘sir’, but Freddie said simply, ‘I would like to have a word with you.’

  ‘What about? I’m busy.’

  ‘It is rather important. I…I am young Mrs Birkstead’s guardian.’

  He watched the man straighten up further and the chin sag just a little, then snap closed as he said to the you
ng boy, ‘Keep rubbing in that liniment, Gerry; I’ll be back.’ Then he pulled open the half-door and saying, ‘You’d better come in,’ he walked ahead of Freddie towards the house and a door that led into a long dark kitchen where a woman turned from a stove, saying, ‘You ready for a bite, Mr James?’ But her voice trailed off when she saw that her master wasn’t alone and he answered her, ‘Hold it, Peggie; I’ll have it later.’ Then with a jerk of his head, he addressed Freddie again: ‘This way,’ he said.

  After going through what seemed to be a maze of passages, they passed into a hall that appeared as dark and as untidy and dirty as the kitchen had. But when the man pushed open a door, they entered a smallish room which did show a little comfort, if only in a masculine sort of way. A fire was burning low on an open hearth and there were two leather chairs and a long couch which had presumably been used as a bed, and not too long ago, for there, on it, was a pillow and a blanket.

  Pointing to one of the chairs, the man said, ‘You may as well sit down.’ And Freddie sat down; and the man did so, too, but he didn’t speak until after he had reached out and taken a pipe from the rack, knocked the doddle out onto the dirty hearth to the side of him, refilled the pipe with shag and lit it from a spill that he had thrust into the low embers. Even then, he drew on the pipe three times before he said, ‘So he beat her up?’

  Freddie was slightly taken aback, but he said, ‘Yes, if you put it like that, he beat her up.’

  ‘Well, she can’t blame anybody but herself in the first place, and you, if you are her guardian, for letting the marriage take place. You must have noticed something odd about him, surely. Even when he’s normal, he’s odd; always has been since she brought him into this house when he was four years old. He was showing signs of it then. My God, the tantrums! Many a time I was for throwing him out of the top window. I’m talking about my aunt, you understand…Mrs Birkstead.’