The Harrogate Secret (aka The Secret)

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘Yes, I understand.’

  ‘Well, she’s to blame in the first place I suppose.’ He now leant forward, took the pipe from his mouth and laid it on a stand; then with his forearms on his knees, he leaned forward and looked from Freddie towards the fireplace before he went on, his tone low now, ‘The havoc that woman’s caused in so many bloody ways. She’s brought this house down, you know. Do you know that? You might think your ward’s had the rough end of the stick. You know nothing about it. She’s lucky: she can get shot of him now; I’ve heard what he’s done to her. We thought we had got rid of him when Aunt took him to Shields, but when he had his spasms, he’d be back here on the doorstep. He knew when they were coming on.’ He nodded to Freddie now. ‘Father put his foot down and made her send him to Havensford; but it was too late. She hated parting with her own money. And you know she’s rotten rich. Birkstead was rolling in it and she got the lot when he broke his neck out hunting. They hadn’t been married five minutes. But do you think she’d part with a penny except what she spends on adorning herself and for her own comfort? You wonder why I’m telling you all this, don’t you? Well, I’m just putting you in the picture. You’ve come here to complain, haven’t you?’

  ‘I’ve come here to find out exactly what is wrong with Marcel Birkstead.’

  ‘Oh, that’s easily answered. He’s mad. He’s a maniac. Must have come from his father, the Gallagher man; and look at Aunt Annette, Annette Birkstead. But she’s mostly cunning and possessive.’ He leant back in the chair now and, picking up his pipe again, he once more drew on it, having to pull hard to get it going now. Then as if to himself he said, ‘That a woman could get an old man to sign away his personal fortune in dribs and drabs. That’s what she did. I was in India most of the time. My father’s been bedridden for years. He came out of the Army shot to pieces. Do you know, if he lives till next year he’ll be a hundred. Imagine that! He’s lived for more than thirty years in bed…and she even ruled him long before he took to bed. They say she looks like a painted gargoyle. Well, she’s well in her eighties, too, and with stamina she too could live to a hundred. Her daughter Ellen ran away and got married, you know, to Gallagher. She nearly went mad because she had reckoned to take her into the aristocracy. Oh, yes.’ He was nodding his head briskly as if Freddie had denied the statement. ‘But when Ellen died and Gallagher, being the kind he was, couldn’t stand his son…well, likely he had already witnessed some of the traits in him, it gave her a new aim in life and she became obsessed with the lad and he with her. Weird. Weird.’

  He now rose to his feet, saying, ‘Can I offer you a drink?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  Freddie too got to his feet. ‘What I want to know is, has he been certified?’ he said.

  ‘Certified? No. He only has spasms.’ He laughed now. ‘That’s all he has, spasms. At first they were put down to just fits of temper, until he was round about seventeen or eighteen when he had grandiose ideas; he even started up companies here and there. But she put a stop to that. She got the solicitors on the job to state that she could not be held responsible for any debt he incurred and pointed out that he had no money of his own. He was cute enough to learn that lesson. And then she had him put on drugs. That’s when she first contacted the clever Doctor Villiers at Havensford who’s supposed to cure by nature. Nature be damned!’

  ‘Couldn’t he be certified?’

  ‘Oh, yes; if anyone could stand up to her and get round the doctor and prove that his actions were abnormal. Oh now’—he was wagging his finger at Freddie—‘you might be the very person. You might have a case. Was she really badly knocked about?’

  ‘Yes, really badly, from head to foot.’

  The man sighed now and his tone changed and he said, ‘Well, I’m really sorry because I understand she was nothing but a chip of a girl. And look, I’ll tell you this much.’ He took a step nearer to Freddie and in a low voice he said, ‘If you were to take this to court I would bear witness for you. Yes…yes, I would, and be glad to. But I must admit it wouldn’t be through pure altruism; no, because I would see it as a sort of recompense for what that bitch of a woman has done to this place.’ He waved his hand as if encompassing the whole estate. Then he added, ‘You know something? He still has the nerve to come here, very often after they let him out. Only a few months ago he stood where you are standing now, and when I told him to clear out and not to come back here again, do you know what he said? Oh, he would come back because when I died he would inherit all the entailed property, and the Birkstead money would restore the place. Do you know, I nearly did for him…You’re sure you wouldn’t like a drink?’ He looked towards the corner of the room to a table on which were two decanters and some glasses, and he said, ‘That’s one good thing we’ve got left, a few bottles in the cellar.’

  Freddie nodded as though agreeing with this statement, but said, ‘If you’ll excuse me I’ll be on my way. I’ve got to get back to Harrogate before nightfall.’

  ‘Well, all I can say is good luck to you. But don’t forget, that was a promise I made: if you ever need a witness you have one.’

  ‘Thank you.’ For the first time Freddie smiled at the man, and the man smiled back and surprisingly held out his hand, and Freddie shook it. Then the man once again led the way, but to the front door this time; and after opening it he went out to the steps and remained there while Freddie walked down them to the cab; and before entering, Freddie turned and touched his hat to him, and the man raised a hand in salute.

  John was tidying the garden near the gate when Freddie arrived back home the next day, and straight away he enquired of his brother: ‘Well, how did it go?’

  ‘All very enlightening, John. It proved at least one thing for me, that the fellow is mad. But now my job will be to find out if that constitutes what they call grounds for divorce.’

  ‘A divorce?’

  ‘Yes, John, a divorce.’

  ‘Difficult things to get, I should imagine.’

  ‘Yes; but not impossible…How is she?’

  ‘Oh, Ma has her propped up in bed, and she’s had some broth and beef jelly.’

  He left him and hurried into the house, and the first person he saw was Nancy. Her hand outstretched, she came towards him, saying, ‘Freddie?’

  ‘Yes, dear. How are you?’

  ‘I’m…I’m fine, Freddie; but Belle…her poor face and her back. Ma got me to lay my hands on her back, yesterday, and Belle said she found ease.’

  ‘You’ve got good hands, Nancy, always have had. Where’s Ma now?’

  ‘She’s in the bedroom.’

  He patted her arm, saying, ‘Be seein’ you.’

  ‘Freddie.’ He stopped. ‘I’ve…I’ve got something to tell you, but later on.’

  ‘Be glad to hear it, dear. Be glad to hear it.’ He hurried from her, but when he opened the bedroom door he paused for a second. Belle was propped up in bed. If anything she seemed to look worse than when he had last seen her. Her eyes looked to be great lumps in a puffed mass of yellow flesh.

  Jinny turned to him, saying, ‘He walks in just like that as if he had been down to the fish market. Had a nice time then?’

  ‘Excellent, marvellous holiday.’ He slapped her on the buttocks, and as she cried, ‘You look out now, lad!’ she was smiling at what she would term a form of endearment; and when he said, ‘Ma, you know what I want? The strongest cup of tea you can brew,’ she answered, ‘Well, I’ll think about it.’ She now patted the side of the bed, smiled at Belle, then went out. But only when the door closed did he bend down and gently kiss the swollen cheeks and then the lips. And she put her arms around his neck but she said nothing.

  Pulling up a chair, he asked gently, ‘How are you feeling now?’

  She drew in a long gasping breath before she answered, ‘If I was to speak the truth, Freddie, worse than I did yesterday. I seem to be coming more aware of every inch of my body. And yet you know something? When Nancy put her hands on my back yesterday
the pain eased considerably. Do you think she could be what you call a healer?’

  ‘She could, yes, I suppose so. She’s gifted in many ways, is Nancy. But dear, listen; I want to ask you something. I want you to do something for me.’

  ‘Anything, Freddie. I would do anything in the world for you that was possible, except’—she smiled wanly—‘get up at the moment.’

  ‘I don’t want you to get up, my dear, not for another week, or for as long as you want to lie there, but this is what I want you to do for me. I want you to allow a photographer to come in and take a picture of all your cuts and bruises.’

  ‘You…you mean my body, my back and legs and…?’

  ‘Yes. He would do it in sections. You would be partly covered up. You see, it’s this way, dear. That man is mad. He is a maniac but he is not certified and, if you want free from him you’ve got to have proof that he’s unsafe to live with. Now, by the time you’re on your feet and the case comes up in court, there’ll only be shadows of the weals and scars on your body, and your face will be completely normal by then. But if we can produce photographs of what he did to you and how your body looks even a week after the incident, then this will go a long, long way to proving his insanity or whatever is wrong with him. For I can tell you, my dear, there’ll be a great deal of opposition from his grandmother. Oh yes, she’ll fight you tooth and claw. But we have one ally, and that’s her nephew. Oh, my dear, there’s a story. I’ll tell you about it later. But I’ve been to see this man, a Mr James Fuller of Wellindean Hall near Harrogate. That’s the place you said the old lady bragged about. Well, you should see it now. And there’s one thing certain, James Fuller detests Marcel and has promised to help by standing as a witness if we ever need him. And we’re going to need him, aren’t we dear?’

  ‘Oh yes, Freddie. Yet at the back of my mind I have this fear that he could force me back.’

  ‘Not on your life! No-one or nothing will get you back there. Now rest your mind easy on that. You know something? I never wanted Maggie’s money, I felt guilty at taking it; at least half of it I felt should be yours, now all of it, every penny, can be used to fight this case. But…but about the photographer: You’ll allow it?’

  ‘Yes. Oh yes, Freddie, anything, anything you say.’

  For a moment he felt a great sadness overwhelming him: ‘Anything Freddie,’ she had said, ‘anything you say.’ All the sparkle, all the spunk had gone from her. Never a day had passed for years, as a young child and then whenever she was home from school, when she hadn’t teased him, contradicted him, or stood up to him. But now, ‘Anything, anything you say, Freddie.’

  ‘Why do you look like that, Freddie?’

  He smiled at her now and, gently holding her face between his hands, he said, ‘I’ll never know real happiness again until I hear you cheek me and tell me to shut up, that I’m too big for me boots, and that I’m devoid of taste in all that really matters.’

  ‘Did I act like that?’

  ‘You did, madam.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Freddie.’ She tried to smile and he said, ‘Don’t be sorry. Don’t you ever say to me you’re sorry. Do you hear?’

  The door opened and Jinny entered. ‘I’ve left your tea in the kitchen,’ she said; ‘Nancy wants a word with you. And you’d better prepare yourself.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Oh, there’s goin’ to be another addition to the family.’

  When his eyes widened and his mouth fell into a slight gape she yelled at him, ‘You’ve got a bad mind, you! She’s goin’ to marry that customs fella, at least she wants to, but she doesn’t want to upset the lot of us.’

  ‘Why should she upset the lot of us by marrying him?’

  ‘Well, you know yourself.’

  ‘I know no such thing, Ma. Anyway, it’ll be a step up for her.’

  ‘You know what, Freddie Musgrave, you’re gettin’ too big for your boots. Something’s turned your head.’

  He laughed at her now while looking towards the bed and saying, ‘Yes, I know; she’ll tell you all about it.’ Then he went out.

  In the kitchen John and Nancy were sitting having a cup of tea, and it was John who said, ‘You know what our Nancy here is just tellin’ me? She’s thinkin’ about movin’ up to the aristocracy of the town, the enemy’s camp, me da would say.’

  ‘Well, you know what I would say’—he put his hand on Nancy’s shoulder—‘you couldn’t be in a better or safer camp, nor a more respectable one. But I’m glad I’m not still a nipper, else I would have a bad time of it, wouldn’t I, lass?’

  She laughed, then stood up and, putting her arms around his neck, she kissed him. ‘He wants to come and see you,’ she said.

  ‘Why see me? It’s Da he’s got to see.’

  ‘He said he would rather see you.’

  ‘Well, any time, tell him. Any time.’

  ‘You know something? It was he who was on the ferry that day. He didn’t tell me till last night. It was he who helped Belle to the office.’

  ‘Was it now? Was it now? Well, Nancy, that’ll be in his favour. Oh yes, yes.’

  ‘Oh, by the way, Freddie,’ John said, ‘I forgot to tell you. A young fella, not from this side, well, I mean by the sound of him, he said his name was Yarrow, he came askin’ to see you. It was around four o’clock or so. I said I didn’t know when you’d be back and he said he’d look in later the night. D’you know anybody called Yarrow?’

  ‘Yarrow?’ Freddie shook his head.

  ‘Well, he seemed to know you, or Belle, ’cos he called her Mrs Birkstead. And he said something about one of the maids. He kept mumbling. He seemed upset, sort of.’

  ‘Just a minute.’ Freddie now went back to the bedroom again, silencing what was going to be a quip from his mother by raising his hand and saying, ‘Just a minute.’ He bent over Belle and asked softly, ‘What was the name of the young fella who brought you in the cart?’

  ‘Roy…Roy Yarrow.’

  ‘Ah, that’s it. And…and the maid?’

  ‘Oh, I told you that was Mary…Mary Chambers. They are…I think they are close friends.’

  ‘Well, it appears that he’s in trouble of some kind because John tells me he called here just recently; but he’s coming back. D’you think they were found out and they’ve got the push?’

  ‘I…I shouldn’t be at all surprised. But, Freddie, I…I promised Mary that if she ever needed a friend she…she had to come to me.’

  ‘Well’—he smiled broadly at her—‘your friends are my friends. And I’ll see to them both, never fear. Now what did you want to say, Mrs Musgrave?’

  ‘Nothin’ important, Mr Musgrave, only to repeat you’re gettin’ too big for your boots.’

  Belle made a queer sound in her throat and her discoloured eyelids closed as she murmured, ‘Oh, Jinny, don’t…don’t make me laugh. I…I don’t want to laugh. Don’t make me laugh, Jinny. Oh! Oh, Freddie!’ As the tears sprang from her eyes he put his arms round her and held her, and as the sobs mounted his mother turned away, saying as she made for the door, ‘The best thing for her, better than the medicine. It’ll wash it away.’

  But as he held Belle’s shaking body and listened to her gasping breath as the sobs seemed to tear her apart, he wondered at the strangeness of old women’s sayings: this tortured crying, the best thing that could have happened. Wash it all away.

  He held her till her crying subsided, and he went on holding her, for that’s what he wanted to do, hold her for the rest of his life, but legally.

  Nineteen

  During the following days a number of things happened. Roy Yarrow had called again that particular night and told Freddie that both he and Mary had taken lodgings in Shields after being dismissed on the spot. It would appear that Mrs Birkstead hadn’t been apprised of Belle’s departure until the following day and that she herself had almost had a seizure when hearing of it. Both Mary and Linda had been summoned before her, and when neither of them would speak she ordered their dismis
sal. It was then that Mary owned up that she was the one. She did this, she said, because Linda had no-one belonging to her, whereas she knew that Roy would stand by her. And Roy did stand by her; and he too was dismissed at a minute’s notice with no references. Apparently, it wasn’t so much the fact that they, like John, had to forgo their wages but that they needed a reference to get another position, and their small savings were now exhausted. That was the important thing. And so the next day Roy brought Mary across to an emotional scene between her and Belle, whereupon Freddie, much to his mother’s chagrin, engaged Mary as a maid. As Freddie said, his da was always complaining about his mother never being at home and she was always saying she would really have to cut her time down here; so what was she grumbling about? Anyway, Mary was a nice lass who had started her life in the workhouse; and this alone should endear her to her. Didn’t she think so? For answer, Jinny had said that one of these days she would tell him what she really thought, and that would be that.

  Nevertheless, Mary was happily installed, and Freddie found Roy temporary work doing necessary repairs on the property, until such time as they would build a stable and have, if not a carriage and pair, a horse and trap.

  The second thing that occurred was Freddie’s receiving a communication commanding him to appear in court in Newcastle in three weeks’ time to answer the charge of withholding information all these years.

  Then a photographer had come, commissioned as he put it himself, to take very odd photographs, but nevertheless very interesting. And as he could only take small parts of the body at one time it was a very long session, which Belle found tiring. The doctor had happened to call during the process, and after expressing his surprise had nodded his approval. His words were: a very clever move, one which would likely come in useful.