Читать книгу Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection - Josephine Cox - Страница 58

‘I’D BEST GIVE you a hand before we set off for the cottage.’ Having come into the barn to give Emily a kiss, Danny was concerned to see her lifting the heavy crates of vegetables. ‘You and Cathleen sort the cabbages while I stack these up against the wall.’

Emily was grateful for the help, but said, ‘I thought you were in a hurry to get to the cottage?’

‘And so I am, but Lizzie’s in good hands with your mam.’ While he stacked the crates, he carried on talking. ‘This job won’t take but a few minutes. Besides, I wouldn’t be much of a man if I left my wife to stack these heavy crates.’

‘All right.’ Emily knew him well enough by now to realise that once Danny made up his mind, there was no changing it. ‘I suppose you’re right – two pairs of hands are better than one. Between us we’ll soon have it done.’

And so they did.

When the last crate was stacked, Danny grabbed Emily into his arms and looking into her brown eyes, whispered of how much he loved her.

‘You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,’ he said. ‘I know we got off to a shaky start, but now I can never imagine being without you.’

When Emily gave no reply, he kissed her tenderly and holding her at arm’s length, told her how pretty she was.

Emily smiled at that. ‘What? Covered in muck and looking like a scarecrow?’

‘All of that,’ he laughed, kissing her again. ‘Look, sweetheart, I’d best be off. Cathleen and I will be there in minutes. Though I’m sure, with your mam in charge, everything is fine and dandy up at the cottage.’

‘I hope so.’ Emily had never forgotten the time she had gone to Lizzie with the truth about John not being the father of her child. She hoped Lizzie would keep her promise and not say anything, because if her mam ever found out – well, she just didn’t dare think about the consequences.

A moment later, Danny was walking across the fields towards the cottage, with Cathleen dancing along beside him, while Emily stood at the barn door watching them go. You’re a good man, Danny Williams, she thought. I don’t deserve you.

Having passed the barn on his way to the bull-field, where he loved to admire the great beasts, Clem Jackson had seen Danny take Emily into his arms, and he was greatly excited by it. He still had fond memories of that day in the barn, when he had possessed the girl against her will.

Now, leaning on the gate, his huge dog sitting obediently at his feet, he watched Danny leave. There seemed to be a lot happening this morning, he thought, with all this coming and going.

‘I expect it’s that damned old woman again!’ he said to the dog, which instinctively curved its back in fear. ‘You should have finished her off while you had the chance.’

Prodding the cur with his cane, he snapped, ‘I’m going to find out what all the fuss is about. You just stay where you are!’ When he took a step away and the dog seemed about to follow him, he held the cane to its nose. ‘Badger – Stay!’ The animal immediately whined and skulked to the ground, its big frightened eyes uplifted to him.

Grinning triumphantly, he stomped off and left it there.

With Danny and Cathleen gone, Emily got on with her chores. She had swept the floor of the barn and was bagging the last of the cabbages when Clem’s hands gripped her shoulders. With a cry, she tried to turn but he held her there, one fist clutching both her hands behind her back, and the other squeezing her neck from the front, holding her in such a way that she couldn’t move. She couldn’t even kick out, because his legs were tight against hers, effectively pinning her to the wall.

‘Well, here we are again, my beauty,’ he growled. It was so good to touch her soft skin. ‘Been missing me, ’ave yer?’

‘Get your filthy hands off me!’ Momentarily frozen with shock, Emily hadn’t been sure who had taken hold of her. But she was sure now, and she was terrified.

Clem swung her round and smacked the back of his hand hard across her mouth. ‘Careful how yer talk to me, lady,’ he warned, ‘unless you want a taste o’ my fist.’ As the blood trickled from the corners of her mouth, he leaned forward and licked at it with the tip of his tongue. Forcibly restraining her, he pushed his face close to hers, his mouth lolling open in a sinister kind of grin. ‘I’m sorry to have neglected yer, lass, only I’ve been that busy with my other women, I ain’t had much time for you. This past week or so, they seem to have deserted me – fickle creatures, women, don’t yer think? But I’m ’ere now, so you’ll be glad to know we can tek up where we left off.’

Emily began desperately struggling. ‘ENOUGH, YOU BITCH!’ He raised his hand and slapped her round the head; chuckling when she fell at his feet, dazed and bleeding. ‘That’s better.’ Getting to his knees, he straddled her and began undoing his trouser-buttons. ‘Don’t go unconscious on me,’ he told her, breathing heavily, ‘I like my women to have a bit of life in ’em.’

It was when she felt her skirt being lifted and his whole weight bearing down on her, that Emily seized her chance. Taking him by surprise, she kicked out and managed to clamber free from under him. By the time he realised what was happening and chased after her, drawing up his trousers as he went, Emily had got hold of the pitchfork and was ready for him. ‘Come on then!’ She was like a wild thing. ‘I’m ready for you now. Come on!’ Pointing the sturdy steel-pronged fork at his stomach, Emily would not have hesitated to use it.

Unfortunately she did not allow for his cunning. In a swift movement, Clem stooped to grab a handful of dust from the heap she had swept on the barn floor and threw it into Emily’s face. As she reeled away, he darted forward.

Half-blinded and still dazed from the beating he had given her, Emily ran. She couldn’t make for the door because he was blocking the way, so she scrambled upwards, into the hayloft, where she planned to drop down the outside shaft to the ground. She was halfway up the ladder when he seized her by the ankle. ‘Thought you could get away from me, did you?’ he panted.

With superhuman effort, Emily managed to kick him away and jump down to the ground. Racing for the door, she thought she was safe. She even managed to get outside, but Clem was right behind her. ‘Oh no, yer don’t!’ Grabbing her round the waist, he carried her back inside, punching her in the face when she started shouting for help.

‘There’s no help,’ he snarled. ‘So you might as well keep still.’

Having woken from his afternoon nap, Grandad had gone to the window in time to see Emily run from the barn. He saw Jackson come after her and he saw how bravely the lass tried to fight him off.

Frantic with fear, he knew only too well what Clem had in mind. ‘Dear God Almighty!’ He began shouting, ‘AGGIE!’ When there was no response, he went to the door and opening it, yelled again: ‘AGGIE, FOR CHRISSAKE!’

Taking the thick woolly jumper from the chairback he pulled it on over his nightshirt, then sliding his feet into his slippers, he started his awkward way down the stairs, calling as he went, ‘AGGIE! DANNY!’ He soon began to realise that he was the only one who could help. With that thought in mind he gathered a superhuman strength.

He knew well enough where the shotgun was kept, for wasn’t he the one who some years before had built the cupboard to keep it safe?

While this scene from Hell was being enacted in the dark cathedral of Potts End barn, another man, walking steadily towards the farm, believed himself to be approaching Heaven.

Some distance away, oblivious to what was going on, Michael Ramsden covered the tracks to the farmhouse. ‘Home at last,’ he breathed. Pausing to view the familiar, beloved landscape he was filled with awe, wondering how he could ever have walked away from such a beautiful place and his precious family.

Over the past ten years, he had known deprivation and despair; he had rummaged in filth for a bite to eat and thought many a time to end it all. But now, with John Hanley’s help he had regained his health and his self-respect; he had something to live for. I’ve some making up to do now, he thought ashamedly, moving on. A terrible wrong to put right. There was no guarantee that they’d have him back. He dreaded meeting his father’s eye: was the dear old man still alive? And his young daughter was now a mother herself; he, a grandfather. As for Aggie, his wife … mere words were no good to explain the way he felt about her, and about what he had put her through.

For a moment, Michael was tempted to sit and weep, but the strange peace of the place, and the hope within him, dried his tears. It was time for action. He needed his family. He needed to let them know how much he loved and missed them. As for Clem Jackson, it was more than time he faced him head to head, man to man … time it was all thrashed out, one way or another! He had never been so determined to rid himself and his family of the plague that was Jackson and now, thanks to John, he had the means to do it.

As he pushed along, head bent and his heart alive with determination, Michael did not spot Aggie at first. But then, as he raised his head he saw her – and emotion clogged his throat. ‘Oh, my God … AGGIE!’ he cried, but no sound came out.

She was closer to the farm than he was, and now as he called her name again, this time in a quivering cry, she went out of earshot, an urgent purpose in her gait as she pelted towards the back of the farmhouse and out of sight.

His heart lifting at the sight of his precious woman, Michael also took to his heels and ran after her.

In the barn, Jackson had Emily at his mercy. ‘Now then, my pretty, let’s ’ave no more trouble from yer.’ He knelt once again, rolled up her skirt, and revelled at the sight of her soft white thighs.

‘Don’t seem right that yon fool of a milkman should ’ave this all to himself, let alone striding around my farm as if he owns the bloody place. I’ll set the dog on him, I will,’ he said viciously, and reached forward to fondle her. His mood changed.

‘We made a good ’un in that daughter o’ yourn, didn’t we, eh? Growing up fast, she is – looks the image of her mammy. By! I wouldn’t be surprised if one dark night, I didn’t mistake her for you … if you know what I mean?’

The more Emily struggled, the more he goaded her. Try as she might, she was no match for his brute strength.

But there was another who was, and that was Aggie who, after talking with Lizzie, had finally seen the truth about Emily, about Cathleen and Clem. Some terrible instinct had made her run back here, had made her run all the way … At that moment, she was standing behind him with the pitchfork at his neck.

‘I could so easily run you through from back to front,’ she said in a low, harsh whisper. ‘Mek no mistake, I won’t even hesitate.’ And to prove her intention, she gave her brother a taste of the steel when she jabbed it and pierced his skin. ‘Get up from there!’

The sound of his sister’s voice put the fear of God in his cowardly heart. His face etched in terror, he slowly got to his feet.

‘Over there!’ Another sharp jab in his neck sent him stumbling towards the wall. When he hesitated, he was sent forward with another painful jab of the prongs.

When flat to the wall he turned round. Emily had clambered up and was crying but nodding to her mam to show that she was all right. Aggie for her part, was again advancing towards him. At the look of murder on her face, he shrank back, cowering like a baby. ‘She wanted me to. She was ready for it,’ he said lamely. ‘Same as before.’

Standing only inches from him now, with the pitchfork pressed so hard against his bare belly it would have taken only one sharp push to skewer his guts, Aggie knew real cold hatred. Killing him was what she intended. But first, she wanted him to suffer.

‘You never learn, do you?’ Aggie’s voice was as hard and unforgiving as her expression. She had never forgotten how he took her against her will, when she was younger even than Emily had been.

Fuelled with loathing, her eyes bored into his. ‘I was just a girl … your own sister! That night all them years ago, when you crept into my room, drunk as the devil and out of your mind, you took my maidenhead and now I’ve just learned you did the same to my daughter, you evil man, and what’s more, you’ve got our Cathleen lined up too – that innocent young lass. You mean to ruin that same child – your own daughter, damn you! Damn you to Hell!’

The deep disgust she had borne all these years was etched on her face. ‘Your own sister!’ She shuddered. For what seemed a lifetime she had lived with her own shame and said nothing, because the horror of what her brother had done to her was too awful to speak about. Because of him she had felt tainted and dirty, unfit to share the lives of ordinary, decent people, until she had met her Michael, who had restored her belief in life and in herself. Oh Michael, if only you were here …

‘I mean to kill you, Clem,’ Aggie said, and he knew he was lost. His one hope, the dog, was too scared of him to move from the gate where he had ordered it to stay. For the first time in his wasted life, Clem Jackson tried to pray.

Thankfully, Emily did not hear her mother speak of her own traumatic rape because, having seen Danny striding over the fields, she had limped out of the barn towards him, blood pouring down her face.

Grandad heard, though. As he entered the barn, shotgun at the ready, he was stunned by what Aggie was saying. And yet he found he already knew! He had always been aware of some tension between his daughter-in-law and that bully-boy brother of hers, ever since the foul creature had bought his way into their lives and taken over the farm. This terrible scene confirmed an old suspicion.

Shuffling closer, he levelled his gun at Jackson. ‘Move away, Aggie.’ His voice was flat. Lifeless.

‘Dad, no!’ Shocked to see her father-in-law there, Aggie stood her ground. ‘Go back to the house. This is between him and me.’

Seeing his chance, Jackson kicked the pitchfork away, sent Aggie flying across the barn, and made his escape.

Behind him, the old man fired off a shot. But Jackson was already out of range.

Hearing the gunshot, Danny told Emily to stay with Cathleen. ‘You’ll be all right now,’ he promised. ‘Don’t move from here, my darlings. I’ll be back for you both.’

Then he went off at a run, following Jackson, who was headed away from the barn and down, towards the back field.

In a matter of minutes, Danny was on him. ‘You filthy bastard!’ Enraged by what Emily had told him, Danny swung him round and with a clenched fist gave him a mighty punch that sent the big man reeling backwards. He went after him again, and again, until Jackson was once more in fear for his life. Finally, hitting out with bunched fist, he managed to send Danny sprawling.

While Danny was down, Clem scrambled over the gate and into the field – but Danny was right behind him.

Leaping on Jackson from behind, he forced Clem down. The fight was fierce, with first Jackson being floored, then Danny – and now Jackson was running again. But Danny was determined. Going after him, he fetched him such a hard upper-cut that the older man reeled back and fell in a crumpled heap, bloodied and beaten. ‘Get up!’ Gasping and panting, Danny hauled him to his feet. ‘I’m not finished with you yet!’ he spat.

The blows were exchanged with murderous ferocity; first Danny, then the other man, and now Danny again.

From the far end of the field where they had been dozing, the bulls were alerted by the disturbance. Curious at first, they ambled over to where they could see the two men locked in battle, their own wicked bloodlust slowly rising. The bulls stood awhile, scraping the ground with one front hoof, and then, heads down, at full speed, they thundered across the field. This was their territory, and they tolerated no intruders.

The old man saw them charging, as did Aggie and Emily, who had gathered at the gate to see Jackson take the beating he deserved. Emily hid her daughter against her skirts. ‘Danny, watch out!’ they screamed in unison.

Emily started to climb over the gate to rescue him, but Aggie pulled her back. ‘No! You’ll be killed!’ Then all three were roaring out to warn him. ‘DANNY! THE BULLS! GET OUT OF THERE!’

What followed happened so quickly there was little anyone could have done. For whatever reason, the bulls made straight for Jackson. Slicing his flesh with their short thick horns, they threw him in the air, and when he fell again, they went in for the kill.

As much as he hated the other man, Danny could not stand by and see another human being trampled and gored to death. Instinct set in. Oblivious to the shouts of his family, he snatched off his jacket and ran at the bulls, waving his coat and attracting their attention away from Jackson.

Incensed, they turned their tiny red eyes on him. When in that moment they came at him, he dropped the coat and took to his heels, making for the gate and safety.

He was almost there when one of the bulls stabbed him in the side with its horn. He stumbled, straightened and clung to the fence, gasping from pain and a terrible fatigue, but by then the same bull had charged again, and gored him in the leg. As he lay there, helpless and in shock, all Danny could do was pray.

Suddenly, the air was shattered by the crack! of a gunshot. The bulls paused in their attack and then ambled away, as if nothing had happened.

Slipping in and out of consciousness, Danny heard the old man yelling, ‘For God’s sake … get him out of there!’ Then came another voice he did not recognise. He saw Michael’s face looking down on him. ‘You’ll be all right, son,’ the man who was his father-in-law said, lifting him effortlessly into his arms. ‘I’ve got you now.’