Tangled Threads (41 page)

The men were climbing down now to join her and Richard was the first to reach her. Then the hope in her face died. ‘She can’t be in the house, can she, if the key is still under the
brick?’

‘No, probably not,’ Richard said gently, ‘but we’d better take a look anyway now we’re here. It is the most likely place she would come. Could she have found
another way in?’

Eveleen shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’ But she turned the key in the lock, stiff now with disuse, pushed open the door and stepped inside. She wrinkled her nose. The house
was damp and unlived in. The furniture they had been obliged to leave was still there. Eveleen glanced around her. The pots and pans they had used every day, now dull with dust and lack of care,
still lined the dresser. Walter’s wooden rocking chair still stood in its place near the hearth. Even the scraps of paper they had burnt just before leaving were still in the cold grate.

‘I can’t believe it. It – it’s just as we left it.’ Tears prickled her eyes at the injustice of it. ‘No one’s even lived here since we left.’

Richard touched her arm. ‘Do you want me to look upstairs?’

Eveleen shook herself out of her reverie. ‘No, no, I’ll go.’

Only moments later she returned downstairs to say sadly, ‘No, she’s not here.’

‘We’ve looked in the parlour,’ Richard said. ‘But now I think we should search all the outbuildings, thoroughly.’

As they moved outside it was raining again and the pony stood looking woeful and, despite the kindly farmer’s attentions, still hungry. Eveleen, reared to think of the welfare of the
animals even before herself, said at once, ‘I’ll see to the pony. If they’ve not even bothered to clear the house out, then maybe there’s feedstuff still here.’

There was and soon she had fed and watered the animal and had drawn him into the shelter of the barn while the men searched the cowhouse, the large barn and its hayloft and even the
henhouse.

‘I’m so sorry, Eveleen,’ Richard said, and there was no doubting his sincerity. ‘I really thought, like Josh, when we saw the place empty, that she might be
here.’

They were standing just inside the house, sheltering from the rain but with the door open, while they decided what to do next. The sound of hoofbeats in the distance came nearer and slowed near
the gate.

Eveleen, recognizing the rider, drew in a startled breath and felt the three men with her glance at her. But she was staring at the rider as he trotted into the yard and dismounted.

He was as handsome as ever. He hadn’t changed in the months since she had seen him, of course. But she had. Oh how she had changed. The scales had tipped and her love had now become
hatred. Her face coloured as she stepped towards him.

‘So.’ His languid voice now held no appeal for her. ‘We’ve become squatters now, have we?’

‘Don’t worry,’ Eveleen said tightly. ‘We’re going. I wouldn’t want to live in a house owned by you if you paid me.’

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘There’s no fear of that. I can get what I want without having to pay for it.’

His glance took in the three men with her and his left eyebrow rose in the way she remembered so well. Yet now there was a cruel, sardonic slant to it. Perhaps it had always been there, Eveleen
thought, but she had been too blind to see it. Stephen’s gaze had come to rest upon Richard and now there was a sarcastic twist to his smile.

‘I see you still aim high, Eveleen.’ He gave a brief nod and said directly to Richard, ‘I hope she gives you as much pleasure as she once gave me.’

Eveleen’s face went red with rage. His words implied far more than had ever passed between them. He meant to humiliate her in their eyes, especially in Richard’s.

‘How dare you?’ Before she had stopped to think what she was doing, she had flown at him, clawing at his face. She was crying with rage. ‘How dare you say such a thing when it
isn’t true?’

He caught hold of her wrists and held her easily.

‘I hate you!’ she spat at him. ‘Hate you.’

He was laughing in her face. ‘No you don’t. You still love me. You only held out because you thought I’d marry you.’ His lips curled again. ‘You really had the
temerity to think that I’d marry the likes of you. The daughter of our gathman.’

She kicked out at him and caught him on the shin, noticing with satisfaction his wince of pain. He released her and she would have flown at him again if Richard’s strong arms had not come
around her waist from behind and held her firm, while Fred stepped between them.

‘I don’t know who you are, young feller, but I think you’d better leave.’

‘Had I really?’ Stephen’s voice drawled, but his blue eyes glittered dangerously. ‘You’re the ones who had better leave. You’re trespassing. On
my
property.’

‘We’re going.’ Now Josh moved forwards and brushed passed Stephen, deliberately using his bulk to knock the young man off his balance.

Richard, still keeping tight hold of her, whispered, ‘Come, Eveleen. Your mother’s not here. We ought to press on anyway and we’re serving no purpose here.’

Suddenly her defiance deserted her and her spirit drained out of her. The worry over her mother and poor little Bridie, the return to her former home to find it empty and just as they had left
it and to realize there had been no good reason for them to be turned out, then to come face to face with the man she had thought she loved – it was all too much. She hung her head in shame
and defeat and began to sob.

Gently Richard turned her in his arms towards him. She buried her face against his chest and he held her tightly against him.

‘We’re going,’ he said above her head to Stephen. His voice was controlled, but Eveleen could feel the barely suppressed anger in him. ‘But you haven’t heard the
last of this.’

‘Oh, I think we have. This is my land and you have no right to be here.’ Stephen’s lip curled again as he added scathingly, ‘Whoever you are.’

As he helped Eveleen climb into the trap which Fred had brought out from the barn, Richard said, ‘You drive, Fred.’ And he sat beside Eveleen and held her close as they drove
away.

They had not gone far before Richard signalled to Fred to halt.

‘Now,’ he said to Eveleen, offering her a white, neatly folded handkerchief, ‘dry those tears and let’s try to think what we should do next.’

Eveleen drew in a shuddering breath, raised her head and took the handkerchief. She blew her nose and felt better though she knew the humiliation would stay with her for ever.

Richard, however, was sensibly concentrating on the task in hand and she must do the same. The longer her mother and Bridie were out in this terrible weather, the more danger they were in.

‘Is there anywhere else in Bernby where your mother might go?’ Richard asked.

‘I – I suppose she might go to Bill and Dorothy’s.’

‘Where’s that?’

‘If we go a little further on down this road it’s on the right. But it’s still on
his
land.’

‘Never mind about him. I haven’t time to deal with him today,’ Richard muttered, ‘else I would.’

Eveleen noticed that the other men exchanged a glance, but nothing more was said apart from Richard deciding, ‘Right, we’ll go and find Bill and Dorothy.’

As they rocked their way down the muddy cart track towards Bill Morton’s cottage, Eveleen saw their old friend emerge from the lean-to at the side of the house. As soon as they were close
enough for him to recognize her, he hurried forward, reaching up his arms towards her, his face one big grin. ‘Eveleen, lass. By, but it’s good to see you. How are you?’ His voice
faltered as, closer now, he could see her distress. ‘Oh, lass, whatever’s wrong?’

As they all climbed down from the cart Richard swiftly explained, his manner towards Bill at once entirely different from his attitude towards Stephen a few moments ago.

‘Eveleen’s mother is missing. She left home last night and we thought she might have come back home.’

‘It’s all she’s ever wanted,’ Eveleen hiccuped miserably as Bill hugged her. ‘I promised that one day I would bring her back, but . . .’

‘I know, love, and I know you did. But it all takes time. Poor Mary. She never was the most patient of women, was she? Now,’ he said briskly. ‘Come inside. All of you and have
a hot drink and a bite to eat. You look starved to death, lass.’

As he ushered his unexpected guests inside the tiny cottage, he was calling to his wife, ‘Dorothy, Dorothy, look who’s here. Get that kettle singing, lass. We’ve guests for
dinner.’

When Dorothy appeared she gave a squeal of delight and hugged Eveleen. At once she was making everyone welcome and fussing round them.

‘What a good job I’ve made a huge pan of stew this morning. I must have known.’

‘We don’t want to impose—’ Richard began, but his protestations were waved aside.

While they ate, Eveleen found herself bombarded with questions from Dorothy and Bill. The whole, sad story of their life since leaving Bernby was told and Dorothy reached out and touched
Eveleen’s hand. ‘You poor lass. What a time you’ve had. And all that on top of finding your poor father dead in the beck.’ She glanced around at the strangers who had come
into her home, but who she could see at once were trying to help the girl. ‘Life can be very cruel at times, can’t it?’ she remarked.

Back among people who had known her family well, Eveleen felt able to say, ‘Mam always blamed me for Dad’s death. She – she said my wilful ways had brought on his heart
attack.’

‘That’s nonsense,’ Bill said at once. ‘You must never think that, love. Your dad must have had a weak heart. It ran in his family. His father died in just the same
way.’ He glanced around, telling the three other men whom he presumed would not know. ‘Found in a field, he was, just like poor Walter. Besides,’ he went on, looking directly at
Eveleen, ‘I remember your dad having funny turns now and then. When we were haymaking or harvesting. He often had to stop for a rest.’ He shook his head. ‘That wasn’t
normal. Not for a feller of his age.’

Eveleen felt some of the guilt she carried for that event slide away, but now there was an even more pressing need for self-reproach.

‘I seem to bring trouble on everyone,’ she whispered. ‘On poor Rebecca, on my uncle and grandmother . . .’

‘That was Jimmy’s doing, lass, not yours. You can’t be held responsible for what he did. He always was a little rascal even as a young lad. It doesn’t surprise me one
bit.’

‘But I am responsible for my mother being so unhappy that she walked out in the middle of the night.’

To this, no one around the table could think of a comforting answer.

‘We’ll organize a search all around this neighbourhood,’ Bill said a little later when the decision had been made that Eveleen and the three men should try a
different route back towards Nottingham.

‘I’m sure that kindly farmer we met will keep a watch out for her,’ Richard said. ‘So we needn’t retrace ground we’ve already covered.’

Once more, arrangements were made for messages to be sent should there be any news.

Bill and Dorothy hugged Eveleen and told her not to worry. Then they shook hands with the three men and received their thanks with nods and smiles. Although the smiles were genuine, they were
tempered by the anxiety that everyone was feeling.

Just where were Mary and the tiny baby?

Fred took the reins this time without being asked and Richard sat close to Eveleen. She leant against him, allowing herself to give in, just this once, she told herself, and enjoy the feel of
his arm around her shoulders, the strength of him and the confidence and common sense he exuded. It was a relief to hand over, even if only for a short time, the heavy burden she had carried for so
long.

She was weary, worn out with the responsibility that had been thrust on her young shoulders. She closed her eyes and her head drooped. As the trap rocked, Eveleen slept against his shoulder.

She woke with a start as the trap halted. ‘Mam?’ she began, for she had been dreaming about her mother and the child.

‘I’m sorry,’ Richard said at once. ‘We’re almost back at Nottingham and we’ve seen no sign of her. We’ve asked along the way, but nothing.’

Anguished, Eveleen said, ‘What do we do now? Call the police?’

‘Unless she’s been found, that will already have been done by now. I left word with my father.’

Eveleen felt a flicker of anger and opened her mouth to protest. She didn’t want Brinsley Stokes involved. If anyone was to blame for this, then it was him. He was to blame for all the
unhappiness in her mother’s life.

But the retort died on her lips. At this moment, she should take any help she could get – wherever it came from. She looked about her. They were indeed nearing the city, but she recognized
that they were even nearer the village of Flawford.

‘We’re not far from my uncle’s,’ she said glancing at Richard. ‘I don’t think for a minute that she would go there, but—’

He took the words from her. ‘You think we ought to make sure?’

She nodded and, as Fred turned the trap in the right direction, Eveleen instinctively drew closer to Richard.

‘Gone? Gone where?’ Andrew’s face was white with fear. ‘And taken Bridie? My little Bridie? Oh, Eveleen, how could you let that happen?’

Eveleen’s shoulders sagged. Although she had not held out much hope that they would be in Flawford – she believed it was the last place her mother would come – she was still
disappointed. And once more she was shouldering the blame.

Gently, because he could see the young man’s distress was genuine, Richard said, ‘It wasn’t Eveleen’s fault. Mary left in the night while Eveleen was asleep.’

Andrew glanced at her and then looked away. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Of course it’s not your fault. I’m sorry, Eveleen.’

Eveleen nodded, but could not speak. Bridie was all Andrew had left of his beloved Rebecca. He was beside himself with anxiety. Now he was firing questions at them. Where had they searched? Had
they called in the police? What were they going to do next and how could he help?