Three Round Towers (5 page)

I was in an agony of worry and fear. Surely, I said to myself, the master would have buried Becca like he promised. I went over and over the words we had exchanged: I had asked him to bury her proper but he had cheated me over the money and I realised I had no reason to expect him to keep his word. I made myself as busy as possible and took over Mrs Fisher's kitchen to make some apple cakes for the family. I used my mother's receipts and was able to lose myself in the slapping of the dough, part of which I used for bread. I loved cooking and it was helpful to have something to occupy my mind. I propped Beth up in a washing tub and padded her with towels so she could see the activity and Cecilia even came in to chat. It was clear she had never done any cooking so after I had shown her round her own kitchen we began preparing to make the dough.

Farmer Elwood surprised us and at first he didn't look too pleased to see his fragile young wife covered in flour and learning how to knead. Somehow, we all ended up laughing and I made a large pot of tea for us all to sit with while I chopped the apples.

Beth crowed in delight and for a few hours I managed to put Becca to the back of my mind.

‘Perhaps tomorrow we could do some preserving,' I suggested. ‘I have found lots of my favourite herbs in your garden and it would be good to make use of them. I could preserve rosemary in oil.'

‘Where did you learn all this Esther?' Mr Elwood asked.

‘My ma was a good cook and she grew a lot of herbs and vegetables to use in the kitchen and the house. We lived over the apothecary's shop and had quite a big plot of land for the growing. My pa used some of her herbs for his own preparations. Mr Fuller, the apothecary, didn't mind, as long as we didn't copy any of the prescriptions that were for sale. Ma used to love to make soap and would press the herbs inside to give it a lovely smell. We sold quite a lot of things like that come Christmas and holidays.'

‘You had a very busy childhood Esther. I wish I knew all the things that you do,' said Cecilia.

‘I can teach you,' I offered.

Farmer Elwood rose and laughed as he wondered why his wife would want to turn herself into a kitchen maid. We all ended up laughing at the thought of Cecilia with her sleeves rolled up and eyes streaming from chopping onions.

My cakes were all prepared and I left the cooking to Cilla while I walked towards the town hoping that Billy-alone would come. I think he realised that I was anxious about this young woman who had been found and I was sure he would come back as soon as he had news.

I looked towards Southover and stood awhile. Once again it was a beautiful mellow day. The sun had a reddish tone and though there were heavy clouds in the distance it didn't smell or look like rain. The fields to the right of the farm track were all a lush green except where the plough and horses had been at work. I could see the path of the river and I wondered again about the family I believed to be in the area. I would have to make enquiries of Farmer Elwood. He owned property all the way downriver and my family might even be his tenants. It was an uneasy thought as I didn't know what they would be like. I had recently wondered why my ma had left her family and hadn't stayed in touch.

What had happened to occasion such a rift; to marry and move household was one thing but to depart the district and never seek to return or want to talk of family was strange.

Billy-alone was nowhere in sight so I returned to the warm kitchen to see how my bread and apple cakes were progressing. Cilla was a good and willing girl and I felt quite at home with her; we chatted together as the fire was encouraged to burn up and bake the bread wholesome and crispy with its enticing smell.

Cecilia was well on her way to a full recovery and it gave me great pleasure to prepare tasty drinks and morsels to tempt her. The doctor had been back to the house to check on her and I found him to be a kindly man beneath the booming voice. He greatly approved my herbal tea when he took a cup himself. Farmer Elwood invited him to supper one night when he had called late in the afternoon and he seemed pleased to sit with him in the study before Cecilia joined them. I was walking by the open door when I heard them talking about the body that had been dragged from the Ouse.

‘What makes you think it was murder?' Master Elwood was asking.

I breathed a sigh of relief: they couldn't be talking about Becca.

‘There was a massive gash in her head, poor thing. She was local, you know. A comely wench with lovely hair, or it must once have been so.'

Cecilia had entered the room and asked, ‘Who was she?'

‘Well, her father identified her as a daughter from his first marriage. Rebecca Franklin. He has recently taken up with the widow Skarrow and I gather the girl was put out to work at a farm near Hamsey some eighteen months ago.'

My soul fainted within me as I heard Becca's name. Murdered. Wicked lies, I fled up the stairs to my room and flung myself on the bed. Why would anyone think that? I had seen Becca with my own eyes; I had dragged her limp body from the clutches of the freezing cold water, seen the mud, reeds and vegetation caught in her clothes and her open mouth. I dragged the chamber pot from beneath the bed and vomited into it as the cold fear of the master's threat came back to me. He had threatened me if I talked about him but I hadn't said a word to anyone except Becca's pa.

I barely slept that night and when I ventured downstairs the next day everyone commented how pale I was. Dear Cecilia wanted me to return to bed for the day and offered to help Mary-Jane with Beth. Gladly I accepted and returned to my room where I tried to calm myself. Should I go to Becca's father and find out what was happening? Had Master Coad done what he threatened and blamed me for Becca's death?

I tossed and turned in my bed and when I wasn't doing that I paced up and down – seeing myself in that all-revealing mirror, tormented.

Cecilia knocked lightly on my door and entered with Cilla and a tray of my own concoction of tea. ‘How are you feeling now, Esther? We thought you would like some refreshment.'

I struggled to compose myself and smiled weakly. ‘I am well enough now. How has Beth been?'

‘Oh, she has been chirping and waving her little hands at anyone who will stop and play. Your young friend Billy-alone has been entertaining her in the kitchen. Mrs Fisher has returned so everything is back to normal. I don't think she approved of your cooking lessons – there has been a great deal of noise and slamming of pans. Cilla says she was very put out at you taking over her kitchen.'

I tried to laugh but my heart wasn't in it. ‘Is Billy still here?' I asked.

‘Yes, he doesn't seem to want to leave,' Cilla replied, her face pinking up.

I'll come down and take a walk in the fresh air, perhaps it will revive me.'

Once Billy and I were alone I pushed him for details. He told me that the body had been removed to the coroner's and the constable was ‘investigating a most tragic crime'.

‘Why do they think she was murdered?' I pressed.

‘She had a big hole in her head and… she had recently had a baby. 'Tis all I know, honest, Esther. Did you know her?'

‘I might have,' I whispered. ‘But she didn't have a hole in her head when I last saw her and she was already dead.'

‘Beth is her baby then is it? I guessed as much.'

‘Billy, I don't know what to do. Beth was her baby and she killed herself just after birthing her. It was Master Coad's baby and Missus Coad wanted rid of it. I ran away from the farm to save the child. I never killed Becca, I loved her; she was my only friend,' I wailed.

Poor Billy, he looked so bewildered to be the recipient of such an outpouring, but I was all used up with keeping things inside me.

He patted me gingerly on the back. ‘Don't 'ee fret miss, it'll all get sorted and little Beth will be taken care of.' I loved how Billy cared so much for Beth.

I got up and gathered myself. ‘I must go to the town and find the coroner and tell him what happened,' I told Billy – but it was too late.

Mrs Fisher was coming towards us with Cecilia, smirking as she shouted, ‘The constable has come for you! You'm wanted in connection with a murder and theft of a baby girl.' She was so pleased to be able to say all this she didn't even notice that she had interrupted and pushed her mistress to one side.

Cecilia spoke angrily: ‘Mrs Fisher, kindly leave us this instant.'

When she had gone she turned to me, ‘Esther, the constable is indeed here and I am afraid it is very bad news but surely you have some explanation. John will be home later but in the meantime you will have to go to town with Constable Wicks.'

I grasped her hand and pulled it to my breast. ‘I have not killed anyone and I have not stolen Beth. She is dearer than life to me. Please believe me…'

Her clear blue eyes searched mine and she squeezed my hand.

‘I will send for my husband, he is some way away today but as soon as he returns we will try and make sense of it.'

Billy butted in. ‘What about Beth ma'am? You mun let 'em take her to the parish, it is a bad place for a little tacker like her.'

Cecilia looked round at Billy in surprise before saying, ‘Beth will stay with us until everything is resolved. No one will be taking her away, I promise.'

I rode behind the silent Constable Wicks and felt myself to be a feeble and pathetic creature unable to defend myself, even thinking that I might be to blame for all this. Hot tears coursed down my face and I felt everyone looking at me, a suspected murderess and child-napper. I was taken to the new house of correction at the market tower and put into a tiny room with naught but a bench to furnish it. The constable looked at me, judgingly it seemed, as he left. ‘The coroner will talk to you as soon as he returns,' he said gruffly. The door slammed and I was alone with my thoughts.

What seemed like hours later I could hear a commotion outside and I went to peep through the grill in the door. I could see nothing but I heard Mrs Makepiece's angry voice upbraiding the constable.

‘Now see here young Wicks, you'm a fool to think that young scrap of a girl a murderer. You let me in to see her or I'll take it up with the coroner himself. Has she been charged? Has she admitted fault? Does she even know what she is s'posed to have done? No? No. I didn't think so. Did the coroner say she was a murderer? No. You just want to look important – going and dragging her in here behind you and letting people think what they liked. That crowd gathering outside will have her strung up if you're not careful and then where will you be when she is shown to be innocent of God knows what. Open that door and let me in to sit with the girl.' I heard hurried steps and the key turned in the lock to admit a very red-faced Mrs Makepiece who pulled me straight into her strong rounded arms. I wept.

Billy-alone had called on Mrs Makepiece as soon as he left South Farm and had poured out his worries at my being taken up by the constable. How could I ever thank him for enlisting this formidable woman to my cause? I took heart as I told her my story and by the time we had sat and talked it all out I was able to get my spirit back and I knew I had to fight Farmer Coad. I had to do it for myself, for Becca and her reputation and most of all for Beth. Mrs Makepiece said to me that unless I got myself together Beth might be taken by the parish and then God only knows what would happen to her.

She was curious. ‘What makes you so certain that Becca's injuries were caused by Farmer Coad?'

‘He threatened me with blame for her death and kidnap of the child if I told on him. He must have struck out at her poor body to make it look like someone had killed her. Me. And the child was to have been my motive.'

Her advice to me was that I tell the coroner exactly what I remembered and trust that he would investigate fairly and that is what I did. He came to the house of correction later that day and I was taken to him. Mrs Makepiece insisted on being present as I had no one else to speak for me. He had his back towards me as we entered but I recognised him immediately. It was the loud physician who had treated Cecilia.

He sat at his desk and put his fingers together like a steeple before starting to speak.

‘Well, Esther, we meet again. Let me tell you why I have asked to speak to you.'

Mrs Makepiece interrupted indignantly. ‘She was arrested and hauled through the town like a common criminal!'

‘Aye, so I heard, and I am sorry that Constable Wicks overstepped his authority. Feelings are running high in the town with the supposed murder of a popular young girl. He got a bit in advance of himself. I have spoken to him.'

‘Well it's a bit late, this poor girl's reputation has been most grievously injured and…'

‘Mrs Makepiece, can we just get on with the business in hand and then all talk of reputations and arrests can be put under the scrutiny of the facts. Esther, you are not under arrest. A body has been found and identified as your work colleague at Coad Farm: a young girl, of fifteen years, known to you as Becca. She was the daughter of Mr Franklin and has been identified by him. Becca's father has also made allegations as to why she died and suggested that you knew the facts of it before running away from Coad Farm. I have examined Becca and found that she recently, very recently, gave birth to a child. I also would tell you that Becca died from drowning but she had some injuries to her body that are suspicious and it is those injuries that concern me: how and where she came by them.'

Mrs Makepiece was about to interrupt again but I stilled her with a gesture of my hand. ‘I will tell you everything I know. I have never had to keep secrets before and I don't want to, ever again.'

‘Before you begin Esther, can you confirm that the child currently living at South Farm was Becca's and not, in fact, yours?'

‘Yes, she is, was, Becca's baby.'

I told my tale from the moment that Becca had arrived at Coad Farm and he only stopped me occasionally with a question.

‘Thank you Esther. I would like you to remain in the town until I have made some further inquiries but I am happy to let you stay with Mrs Makepiece if that is alright with her?' he raised his eyebrows enquiringly.

‘Aye, I'll be happy to give the maid a bed for the time it takes you to get the man who is responsible.'

‘I will do my best to get justice for the deceased,' was all he said.

Mrs Makepiece and I made our way back to Keere Street. The crowd outside the goal had dispersed and no one did more than glance at me as we hurried through the streets.

‘I think we deserve a tot of brandy child. I will warm it up and dip some sugar and cinnamon in it to warm us through.' Later, as we sat in front of a cosy fire I told Mrs Makepiece about my family and the scourge of the great sickness. It was a relief to be able to talk freely once more. As we talked there was a loud knock at the door, my heart surged in my breast as fear clutched at me.

A dark figure with a hat pulled down round his ears turned out to be poor Becca's pa. He came in and put out his hand to me, a gesture of sympathy. ‘I be that sorry lass that I had to tell on thee but I didn't know they would take thee up to blame.'

‘You warned me that there would be no covering up of such a thing,' I said. ‘I should have been prepared to tell on Coad at the outset.'

Mrs Makepiece poured a tot of brandy for him as she asked whether he, as grandfather, would be taking the baby into his care. I was horrified at her words, I couldn't give Beth up now. He swirled his drink and stared into it as he said, ‘I know Becca would want the nipper to be loved and cared for by her friend rather than be taken on by the parish or my wife, who would not care for her as she should. I would try and help with the odd bit of money, if I had some of my own that wasn't spoken for by my wife.'

I was flooded with relief as I thanked him. ‘If everything works out and the coroner releases me I promise to care for Beth as if she were my own flesh and blood.'

‘There's a long way to go yet,' warned Mrs Makepiece. ‘You might be called upon to stake your claim as a grandfather whether you will or no.' And, on this worrying note I withdrew up to my old room hoping to find some peace and sleep.