Pauper's Gold (51 page)

‘You look all in, lass. Get yourself home and—’ Ernest began, but Hannah shook her head.

‘No, I must get things organized, Ernest. I’m sure Mr Edmund has had another seizure. And if that’s so,’ she stood up, squaring her shoulders, ‘then I – we
– are in charge again. This foolishness has gone on long enough. Get word around all the workers.’

Ernest waved his hands towards the men and women standing about the yard. ‘Most of ’em are here.’

Hannah nodded. ‘Then call them together. I have something to say.’

In a few moments, Hannah was standing on a crate, the workers gathered around her.

‘Thank you for saving the mill.’ She glanced around. No one spoke and most of them looked as if they couldn’t have cared less whether the mill was saved or not. Yet some inner
instinct had driven them to come running when their place of work was endangered. They muttered morosely amongst themselves. Hannah raised her voice. ‘I’m going up to the Manor to see
how Mr Edmund is. Please – may I ask you all to come back here in the morning, when I shall have some news for you?’

Ernest held out his hand and she stepped down from the box. ‘I was going to tell them to go back to work – that everything would be all right – but I changed my mind. If Mr
Edmund is not as bad as he looked and likely to return to work, then it’s no good me making them promises that won’t be kept, is it?’

‘No, lass, it ain’t,’ he said soberly. ‘I won’t send a message to him, Hannah, because right at this moment I don’t quite know what to think – or
say.’

Hannah sighed and glanced around her. The workers were all drifting away now towards their homes, their futures hanging in the balance.

‘It’s a bad situation, Ernest,’ Hannah murmured. ‘How can you wish a man harm, and yet—?’

‘I know, lass. I know just what you mean.’

There was a pause and then she said, ‘I’ll see you back here in the morning then.’

‘Right you are.’

At home, Hannah washed and changed her clothes and then hurried to the Manor. Her breathing was laboured from the effects of the smoke and she would’ve liked nothing
better than to lie down and rest. But she had to find out what had happened to Edmund.

As the butler ushered her into the hall, the doctor was coming down the stairs. His face was grave.

‘A word with you, Hannah, if I may?’ By now, Dr Barnes was a friend. He’d given generously to the villagers through their time of hardship and was beloved by them all.

‘Of course.’

‘If you would come this way, sir, madam.’ The butler led them towards the morning room.

‘How is he?’ Hannah asked, as soon as the door closed and the doctor and she were alone.

Dr Barnes shook his head. ‘It’s a very bad one. It’s touch and go if he’ll even survive it. And if he does, I doubt he’ll make any kind of reasonable recovery. I
fear he will be paralysed and speechless this time.’

‘I see.’

The doctor glanced at her keenly. ‘I’m sorry to hear about the fire at the mill. Has it done much damage?’

‘A fair amount, but with a lot of work I think we can be up and running inside a week.’ She pulled a wry face. ‘That’s if we can get any raw cotton.’

‘But the workers are on strike, aren’t they?’

‘Not for much longer, I hope. I’ve asked them to meet me at the mill in the morning, but I needed to know how Mr Edmund is before . . . before . . .’ She took a deep breath,
but the doctor finished her sentence for her. ‘Before you could tell them that the strike is over and that they can come back to work.’

She nodded.

‘Good,’ he said, picking up his bag. ‘Some of the families are in a poor way. Their health would’ve suffered before long and then it’s a downward spiral,
isn’t it? And all your efforts to keep things going through these hard times would’ve been for nothing.’

Hannah nodded. ‘Talking of their health, would you be prepared to come to the mill again? Like you did before?’

‘Gladly.’ Dr Barnes smiled. ‘By the way, it’s rumoured that the war in America is coming to an end.’

Hannah clasped her hands together. ‘Oh, is it true? Is it really true?’

‘I think so,’ he began, but as he opened the door for her and they moved into the hall, the butler was opening the front door to two men.

‘Is the doctor here?’ One began, but then, catching sight of Dr Barnes, he pulled his cap off. ‘Ah, there you are, Doctor. Can you come? There’s been a terrible accident
on the railway track. Some poor devil got hit by a train. It’s a nasty mess, Doctor.’

‘He’s dead?’

‘Oh aye. It must have hit him a glancing blow and knocked him flying. He wouldn’t’ve known much about it. I shouldn’t think the train driver even realized he’d hit
anything. He didn’t stop.’

‘Did you find the body?’

‘Yeah. We work on the line, see?’

‘I’ll come at once. Have you called the police?’

The two men looked at each other. ‘No – we didn’t think of that.’

‘Then could one of you go and find Constable Jacques and ask him to meet me up there?’

‘We found these scattered around him.’ The man held out a ledger and a wad of paper money.

‘You really ought to have left it for the police,’ Dr Barnes murmured.

‘We never thought of that, sir, I have to admit. But it was blowing all over the place. We thought we ought to pick it up.’

Hannah gasped and moved forward. ‘That’s a fortune.’ She glanced at the two railway workers. They’d been very honest in handing over the money.

‘We couldn’t think why anyone should be carrying all that, but we thought – well . . .’ The two men glanced at each other. ‘We thought he might have family
that’d be glad of it.’

Hannah’s glance was now on the book they were holding out. ‘That . . . that looks like one of our ledgers.’ She took it and opened it up.

The lines of figures, all in Josiah Roper’s neat handwriting, danced before her eyes. ‘Oh,’ she gasped and swayed a little.

‘And we found this too.’ Now one of the men held out a smaller item. ‘Maybe it’s his.’

Hannah’s hand trembled as she reached out to take the battered wallet the man held. She opened it up, and in a flat voice said, ‘It’s Josiah Roper’s.’

As Hannah had predicted, the mill was running again in under a week, though the supply of cotton – any cotton – was spasmodic. Once they knew that their jobs were
safe for the foreseeable future and that Hannah and Ernest Scarsfield were once more in charge, all the workforce had worked around the clock to clean up the damage and get the huge water-wheel
turning and the machinery running again.

There was only one mystery that remained: what had Josiah Roper been doing on the railway track with a large amount of cash and a bag containing clothing and personal belongings? Hannah, seated
once more behind Edmund’s desk, puzzled over the ledger.

‘I don’t understand it, Ernest. It’s just a list of dates and figures. It starts years ago and it’s all small amounts. Sometimes just a few shillings, even pence. I
can’t think what it can be.’

Ernest moved around the desk to stand beside her.

‘That first date – there . . .’ He pointed. ‘That’s the year he started here. I remember it, because he came just a month or two after I did.’

‘Really?’ Hannah turned page after page noting how the figures mounted up in the running total column. She came to the more recent pages. ‘Look, he’s deducted an amount
here and here and – Ernest, those dates coincide with when he went abroad. I know they do, because he was away just before I had Eddie and . . . and I was worried he might not be back in
time.’

Ernest leaned on the desk. ‘You know what,Hannah, I reckon he’s been thieving from the Critchlows all these years – stashing it away. And then, when he got the chance,
he’s taken it abroad. I bet somewhere there’s a bank with Roper’s nice little nest egg.’

Hannah gasped. ‘You’re right.’ She remembered Josiah’s reaction when Edmund had put a stop to his trips abroad. ‘And I bet this time he was going for good. Ernest,
d’you think he started the fire?’ She’d be relieved to be able to believe it was the embittered clerk. For a few dreadful moments she’d suspected Daniel, though she
hadn’t voiced her fears to anyone else.

‘It’s possible. In fact, I’d say it was probable.’ Ernest stroked his moustache thoughtfully. ‘But that’s something we’ll never know. Thank goodness you
saw it in time before it got a real hold.’

‘Yes,’ Hannah murmured absently, her mind still on the book in front of her. She could hardly believe the evidence before her, and yet now the little remarks that Josiah had made
over the years all seemed to fall into place. His bitterness and resentment against the Critchlows had festered for years and he’d taken revenge, only to have Fate deal him a final blow.

‘I wonder if there’s any way of finding out if he has got a bank account abroad somewhere?’ Ernest murmured.

‘There are some numbers at the back of the ledger. Perhaps there’s a clue there, but it doesn’t make any sense to me. I’m going to hand it all over to the police, Ernest.
Let them sort it out – if they can.’

‘Right,’ he said, standing up. ‘Then I’ll be getting on. Oh, by the way, Daniel wants to see you. Shall I tell him to come up?’

Hannah nodded.

A few moments later, Daniel came into the office.

‘Hello.’ Hannah smiled. ‘Are you all right? Have you recovered from the smoke?’

‘Yes, thanks. You?’

‘I’m fine.’

There was an awkward pause before Daniel cleared his throat and the words came tumbling out, as if he had been rehearsing them and now wanted to get them out before he forgot what he wanted to
say. ‘Hannah – I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I . . . I’ve decided to leave. It’s time I put the past behind me. Got on with my own life, but . . . but I
can’t do it here. There’s too many memories. Too many ghosts.’

‘What about Luke?’ Hannah asked gently.

Daniel’s chin quivered for a moment then he said hoarsely, ‘I shall go to his grave – say “goodbye”. I think he’ll understand.’

‘I’m sure he will,’ Hannah whispered.

They gazed at each other. ‘Would you . . . mind if I came with you?’ she asked hesitantly, and then added swiftly, ‘Say if you’d rather I didn’t. I’ll
understand.’

He smiled. For the first time in years it was a real smile that lit up his eyes. In that instant he looked a young boy again, so like Luke that Hannah’s heart turned over. ‘I’d
like you to come.’

‘Sunday then? After the service?’

Daniel nodded.

Sunday was frosty but bright, and after the family service in the schoolroom, they walked to the cemetery, Eddie riding piggy-back style on Daniel’s shoulders, and
Hannah carrying a small posy of flowers. When they reached Luke’s unmarked grave they stood together looking down at the place where the boy they’d both loved lay. Hannah knelt down and
placed the posy on the grave.

‘I’d’ve loved to have put a headstone up, but I couldn’t afford it,’ Daniel murmured. ‘Maybe one day.’

‘Would you . . . let me have one put up, Daniel?’ Hannah asked tentatively, not wanting to destroy the growing understanding between them. ‘If . . . if you tell me what wording
you’d like, I’ll see it’s done.’

‘Pay for it with Critchlow money, you mean?’

‘Well – yes, I suppose it would be.’

Daniel was thoughtful for a moment before he nodded slowly and said, ‘I reckon that’s the least they could do.’

They were silent for a few moments before Daniel said haltingly, ‘I’m letting go of it, Hannah. Like you said. Harbouring bitterness all these years, well, I’ve only hurt
myself – not the man I wanted to. But I reckon Fate’s taken a hand and done it for me. He’s got his just deserts now.’

‘Yes, Daniel, I think he has.’

‘What about you? Are you staying here? Running the mill?’

She nodded. ‘If I can.’

‘Oh, you can, Hannah. I’ve seen that. It’s as if you were born to do it.’ He ruffled Eddie’s hair. ‘Look after yourself – and him. He’s a grand
little chap.’

‘Thank you, Daniel,’ she said huskily, taking her son’s hand.

‘Do you mind if . . . if I just have a few moments alone with . . . with Luke?’

‘Of course not. Shall I see you again before you leave?’

Daniel shook his head. ‘No, I’m off first thing tomorrow morning on the early train.’

‘So . . . so this is goodbye then.’

They stared at each other, and then awkwardly, Daniel bent and kissed her cheek. ‘God be with you, Hannah,’ he whispered. ‘And come and see Luke sometimes for me, won’t
you?’

‘Of course I will. And don’t forget to let me have the wording for the headstone. I’ll see it’s done. I promise.’

He nodded now, unable to speak.

She squeezed his hand and turned and walked away. At the gate, she glanced back, but he was kneeling on the ground, his head bowed, bidding his twin a final farewell.

Hannah set off steadily down the hill towards the apprentice house, slowing her walk to the little boy’s pace. She was about to turn into the narrow path that ran behind the houses, when she saw a man standing near the big gate leading into the mill yard. He was tall with dark hair blowing in the wind, and the lower half of his face was covered with a dark, bushy beard. He was half-turned away from her, looking through the gate into the yard, but there was something about the way he was standing, the set of his shoulders . . .

Her heart missed a beat as she continued slowly down the hill towards him, hardly daring to breathe, hardly daring to hope . . .

Eddie pointed at the man, and in his clear, piping voice called, ‘Hello.’

Hearing him, the man turned and looked up towards them. He stared for a moment, then wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, as if shaken by the sight of her. She stopped, her eyes wide,
her mouth agape.

‘Adam,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Adam.’

Slowly, he came towards her until they were standing only a couple of paces apart. His gaze was on her face and he reached out and traced the line of her cheek with his finger.

He’s safe
, she was thinking,
he’s safe and he has come back
. Her thoughts were a prayer of thanks.