Читать книгу Josephine Cox 3-Book Collection 2: The Loner, Born Bad, Three Letters - Josephine Cox - Страница 28

THE LATE MONTHS of December 1961 had been unusually hard in Bedfordshire, with days and nights of snowfall. Some drifts were so high they brought traffic to a standstill and made everyday life very difficult.

Winter had arrived with a vengeance, catching everyone unawares. People in isolated places were trapped, animals were lost in the far fields, pipes were frozen and schools had to close their doors to the children. And when the thaw came, it was with the same ferocity. The ice melted and the waters ran headlong down the banks and valleys and into the streets. Shops were flooded and emergency services were tried to the limit.

It had been a costly time, but now they were into the month of January, and chaos was replaced with normality. There were still cold, breezy days, but with the odd flicker of bright sunshine.

And the harsh months of 1961 already seemed a distant memory.

This particular Saturday afternoon was pleasantly mild, and having time to spare, Lucy strolled into the stable to see if Dave was there. She loved chatting to him. Humming her favourite Buddy Holly song, ‘Listen To Me’, she was feeling on top of the world, but her good mood came to a halt, along with the song, when she saw the expression on his face. Dave was checking the hooves of her father’s best mare, Molly. ‘I don’t like the look of this,’ he told her grimly. ‘I saw her limping a few days ago when Seamus was riding her back from the fields.’

‘Did you tell him?’ Lucy came closer.

‘Yes, but he rounded on me – said it was none of my business and that he was dealing with it. I took that to mean he’d already seen the vet and was treating it. But when I came in this morning, she was sweating badly. I suspected an infection, but I couldn’t be certain until I took a look.’

Bending down, he raised the mare’s hoof to wedge it between his knees; as he prodded it with the flat blade of the knife, he reeled from the stink that came up. ‘Jesus!’

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

Dave didn’t answer straight away. Instead, holding his breath against the stench, he gently dug until he had located the culprit – a long bramble-thorn deeply driven into the mare’s soft hoof. With that done he eased the iron-shoe away, reeling again when the pus was revealed.

‘Well done, girl.’ Patting her side, he carefully lowered the mare’s leg to the ground and when in distress she hobbled over to the far corner, he burst out of the stable, securing the door behind him. ‘Damn it!’ He shook his head angrily. ‘What in God’s name is Seamus playing at? Why didn’t he get the vet out to her?’

‘Is it bad?’ Lucy could see he was worried. ‘Will she be all right?’

‘Not if Seamus has anything to do with it. It’s real bad, Lucy. The infection has gone right down into the soft flesh. There’s a mass of pulp and the hoof was tightly swollen under the shoe. We’d best get the vet out straight away. She’s in a lot of pain.’

Following him to the yard office, Lucy waited anxiously while Dave telephoned the vet; he was in the middle of describing the mare’s symptoms, when Lucy’s father arrived. Standing in the doorway, Frank Thomson listened to Dave’s every word.

‘By my reckoning, the hoof’s been infected for some days now,’ Dave was explaining. ‘No, I’ve no idea why you weren’t called earlier. Yes, I managed to dig out the thorn, and I prised the shoe off … lots of pus, yes. She’s got a temperature. She seems in a bad way.’

He finished the conversation. ‘Thank you. Yes, I will.’

Frank was at his side as he put the receiver down, his face hard and angry. ‘Where’s Seamus?’ While Dave was talking, Lucy had told her father everything she knew.

‘I saw him go off about an hour ago. He should be back soon.’

‘Show me!’ Enraged, he stormed out of the office.

Together with Dave and Lucy, he went straight for the mare’s stable. Dave was the first in. ‘Oh no, she’s gone down!’ Lying flat on her side and panting heavily, the mare was struggling to breathe.

Shouting instructions to them, Dave went inside. ‘We need buckets of hot water and salt … plenty of salt, and towels … some cotton-wool. Quickly, Lucy. HURRY!’

While Lucy ran to get help, Dave tended the horse and Frank got to his knees, soothing the stressed animal and promising her that she would be all right.

By the time the vet arrived, Dave had drawn out as much of the foul-smelling pus as he could, before bathing the hoof several times in warm salt-water. Lucy was laying cold compresses across the mare’s forehead, and Frank was in the office, having summoned two of the junior grooms, to satisfy himself that they had had no idea how bad the mare was. ‘We’re never allowed near her,’ admitted the young girl. ‘Seamus keeps us up the other end of the yard.’

Frank excused them, and when they were gone he slammed his fist on the desk. ‘You’ve a lot to answer for, my man!’ he growled. ‘It seems you’ve forgotten whose yard this is!’

In the stables, the vet had concluded his examination. ‘How is she?’ Both Dave and Lucy were deeply concerned. ‘Will she be all right?’ Dave sensed the news was not good.

Scrambling to his feet, the vet slowly shook his head. ‘Where’s Frank?’ He and Frank had known each other these past ten years and more.

‘He’s in the office, I think.’ Before he could leave, Dave needed to know. ‘Will she pull through?’

‘I’m not sure. We’ll have to wait and see.’

‘But she’s got to be all right!’ Lucy was close to tears.

The vet explained, ‘If the infection had been treated earlier, she would have had a better chance of recovering. But it’s been left so long, there are complications. Her lungs are affected.’ He spoke solemnly. ‘I’ve done all I can; it’s up to her now. All you can do is stay with her, keep her warm and calm, and hope the antibiotics do their work. But like I say, it’s not good.’

‘But when will we know?’ Lucy asked brokenly. ‘What else can we do?’

‘There is nothing else to be done,’ he assured her. ‘The next twenty-four hours will be crucial.’ He glanced at Dave. ‘It might be as well if Miss Thomson waits inside the house.’

‘No!’ Lucy was adamant. ‘I want to stay with Molly.’

‘That’s all right,’ Dave assured the man quietly. ‘I’ll be here with her.’

‘Well, if you’re sure … Just do what you’re doing – mop her face with a cool cloth, and keep her warm.’

Dave was desolate. ‘What are her chances?’ he asked once more.

‘Fifty-fifty, I’d say. She’s strong. She won’t give up without a fight.’ He made his way across the stable. ‘I need a word with Frank.’

They saw the two men meet up in the yard; they saw Frank’s face go pale as the conversation progressed, and when the vet was gone, Frank came across to join them. ‘Molly is my best mare.’ His voice was thick with pain. ‘Aren’t you, me beauty?’ Gently, he stroked the horse’s sweating sides.

‘The vet says she’s got a fifty-fifty chance.’ Lucy had never seen her father so distressed. ‘She’ll pull through, Daddy. She’s strong, you know that.’

Frank looked down at the mare, and he shook his head. ‘I’ve seen how these infections can take hold,’ he told her sadly. ‘I hope you’re right and she does somehow pull through, but she’s got a hell of a lot of work to do, before she can shake this off. So don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart. Let’s just wait and see, eh?’

After a last whispered word or two of encouragement to the mare, he quickly left, his shoulders bent and his step determined.

A short time later, he saw Seamus arrive. ‘I want a word with you, Macintyre!’ He called him into the house.

‘What’s wrong, guv?’ Bold and arrogant, Seamus confronted him.

For what seemed an age, Frank took stock of this man, a man he had trusted with his prized animals; a man who had callously abused that trust and might have cost him one of the finest brood mares in the land.

‘Frank!’ Seamus was blissfully ignorant of his boss’s anger. ‘You called me in. Mind telling me what I can do for you?’

His face fell when Frank snapped back, his voice low and trembling. “‘What can you do?” You can go and collect what’s yours and take yourself off my property. I never want to see hide nor hair of you again.’

The younger man was visibly shocked. ‘What the devil are you talking about? What d’you mean, get off your property?’ Even now, his arrogance blinded him.

Fixing him in his glare, Frank stepped forward until he was so close he could see the tiny red veins in the other man’s eyes. ‘I’ve been a fool,’ he growled. ‘I’ve trusted you … given you too much power, until now you act like you’re lord of your own kingdom.’

‘What on earth are you getting at?’ Never having witnessed such rage in this usually tolerant man, Seamus instinctively stepped back a pace, his voice shaking with fear, his eyes wide and bewildered. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’

Desperately controlling the urge to lash out with both fists, Frank continued to glare at him. ‘If I were you,’ he said, ‘I’d get out of here as quick as you can, before I cause you a deal of pain – just like you caused that poor mare lying in the stables.’

When the head groom’s eyes lit up with comprehension, Frank went on, ‘Oh! So now you know what I’m talking about! You neglected a simple thing like a thorn in the hoof, and now Molly is down, and the vet doesn’t give her a cat in hell’s chance of recovering.’

‘But I was onto it!’ Seeing his cushy lifestyle coming to an end, Seamus began screaming. ‘It was nothing – I would have got round to it. Damn it, she was fine when I left this morning. It’s that fool of a boy you took on – he’s the one responsible. Why don’t you go and ask him what he’s been up to? Meddling, that’s what! He knows nothing about horses – nothing!’

‘Dave is more of a horseman than you will ever be.’ Frank was beginning to lose control. ‘He knows every bit as much as you – probably more. And out of the two of you, he’s the one to be trusted. So, like I say, pack your bags and get out of here, as fast and as far from here as you can.’

He thrust him away. ‘If I were you, I’d go right now – because I don’t know how long I can keep it together … if you know what I mean.’ His eyes said it all, and the other man saw the violence there, yet still he was defiant.

‘I want what’s due to me! I’m owed three weeks’ wages and severance pay. And I’m going nowhere without it.’

‘You’ll get nothing from me!’

‘Then I’m not leaving!’

Frank smiled, which was more frightening than his temper. ‘Is that so?’

With one lurch he had Seamus by the collar of his shirt. With the other hand, he took hold of the seat of his pants and with a mighty heave he threw him outside, where he landed hard on the ground, screaming and shouting and promising all kinds of retribution.

When Frank took a step towards him, he was gone … fleeing across the yard like the coward he was.

Having heard the commotion, Dave and Lucy had come to the stable door and witnessed the scene. ‘It’s no more than you deserve!’ Dave called out, and fearing that he too would confront Seamus, Lucy called him back to the mare. ‘She’s trembling, Dave … she must be cold.’ With great tenderness, she drew the blanket up and over the mare’s flanks. ‘There must be something we can do to help her?’

‘You heard what the vet said, Lucy.’ Realising that Molly had gone into convulsions, Dave took Lucy by the shoulders and spun her round to him. ‘Go indoors,’ he ordered quietly. ‘This is no place for you just now.’

Realising something bad was about to happen, Lucy would not be persuaded. ‘No, Dave. I want to stay here, with you.’

‘No.’ He led her towards the stable door. ‘You have to trust me, Lucy. You really shouldn’t be here.’ Opening the door, he walked her outside. ‘I’ll call you if anything happens.’

‘Promise?’

‘I promise.’

With Lucy making her way across the yard, Dave returned to the mare. ‘Easy does it.’ He wiped her forehead with the cool cloth. ‘Breathe easy, sweetheart. The fever’s got a hold of you. Once that’s broken, you’ll begin to feel better.’ But he was not hopeful, because now, her eyes were rolling and her whole body was shivering. He drew the blanket higher, and prayed a little. She didn’t deserve this, but what was worse, it could all have been avoided.

Ever since he’d worked at the stud farm, Dave’s love and respect for horses had grown, along with his knowledge of their ways. With the exception of Madden, the big, nervy stallion, the horses here were biddable, trustworthy creatures – a joy to deal with, and a deep balm to Dave Adams’s troubled heart.

From across the yard, the shouting got louder. ‘I HOPE SHE DIES!’ Seamus was yelling shrilly. ‘From the first time your boyfriend set foot on this yard I knew he wouldn’t rest until he got it all – my job and you, you little whore. Oh yes, he wanted you all right, and by God he’s got you now, hasn’t he, eh? I expect the two of you have already climbed into bed, haven’t you? Well? Answer me, you little bitch!’ He raised his hand to slap her.

In minutes, Dave had raced across the yard to launch himself at Seamus. ‘You bad-mouthed bastard, I ought to tear you limb from limb!’ He swung a clenched punch which caught Seamus between the eyes and sent him reeling backwards to the ground.

Before Dave could follow up, however, Frank had gripped Seamus by the arm and was frog-marching him across the yard, where he threw him out of the gates and into the lane, together with his bag of belongings.

As he walked away he didn’t look back, but Seamus’s raised voice carried across the yard.

‘YOU’VE NOT SEEN THE LAST OF ME, ESPECIALLY NOT YOUR SLUT OF A DAUGHTER AND HER GYPSY BOYO. OH, I’LL BE BACK ALL RIGHT, AND MARK MY WORDS, WHEN I DO, YOU’LL BE SORRY, THE LOT OF YOU!’

His angry words flew towards them as they returned to the stable.

One glance at the mare was enough. Dave looked at Frank and the man took his meaning. Without hesitation he guided Lucy out of there.

With Lucy sobbing on her father’s shoulder, Dave bent to stroke the mare’s nose. ‘Couldn’t quite manage it, eh, old girl?’ There was immense sadness in his voice, and anger too. ‘What a waste! What a shocking waste!’

He stayed awhile, cross-legged on the straw next to Molly, wondering how Seamus could have let this happen.

A few moments later, he covered her over and went into the house. Frank poured them all a drink, while Dave telephoned the vet. ‘There’s no rush,’ he told him sadly. ‘She didn’t pull through.’

The following day, Frank asked Dave to take Lucy into town. ‘A day at the shops will do her good,’ he said. ‘She’s had a bad night. We all have. Here. Take this and give it to her.’ The man handed him three ten-pound notes. ‘She can treat herself to a new outfit for the barn-dance next Saturday.’

‘Whatever you say,’ Dave answered respectfully. ‘But if you’d rather take her, I’ll stay here and get everything cleared away.’

Frank thought about the mare, and the task of having her corpse removed from the stable, and for one brief moment he was tempted to leave Dave here to deal with it. But then he thought how Lucy would be better off in the company of someone her own age than with himself; and besides, he had seen the way things seemed to be going between them. It gladdened his heart to think the two of them might get together in a serious way.

‘No, son, thanks all the same. You and Lucy get off. I’ll see to everything this end.’

When she heard they were going into town, Maggie begged a lift. ‘I’ve a new hat to buy,’ she announced. ‘I’m giving a cookery talk next week at the Townswomen’s Guild, and I need to look my best. I can’t be outdone by some fancy townsfolk.’

When Frank groaned and muttered, ‘Women and hats!’ Maggie told him in no uncertain terms to mind his own business.

‘Men should be seen and not heard,’ she said smartly, with her rolling Scottish ‘rrs’. ‘You’re not my keeper!’

‘Not yet,’ he murmured as he turned away. ‘But one day – who knows?’

It had been a long, lonely fifteen years without a woman’s loving embrace. The stud farm was his pride and joy, but now that Lucy was grown into a woman, and his job with her was nearly done, Frank Thomson had fallen in love again, and the thought of putting a ring on Maggie’s finger brought a huge smile to his face, despite recent tragic events.

Ten minutes later, the three of them set off in Dave’s Hillman-Minx, with Lucy and Maggie discussing shoes and hats, and which colour would suit the little woman best.

When they arrived in town, Dave parked by the church. ‘Which way, ladies?’ He didn’t relish a day traipsing round shops, but this was for Lucy, and that was fine.

‘I’m off to Taylor’s hat shop,’ Maggie told them. ‘We can meet up later for a cup of tea if you want?’

So it was arranged. They would meet underneath the market clock at midday.

‘Right!’ said Dave. ‘Where to first?’ He thought Lucy strikingly pretty in her boots and long coat; the high collar drawn up to her chin to keep out the cold. With her hair loose about her shoulders, she had the vulnerable look of a child and, for one fleeting moment as she turned her back to say cheerio to Maggie, he was reminded of Judy Makepeace.

The thought both shocked and disturbed him.

For too long now, he had promised himself to go back, to see both her and his grandfather. But time had raced away almost without him realising, and then there was that sickening sense of fear deep down inside him.

Every time he thought of home it was there, swamping him; the lingering memories, the dark images, and the feeling of utter desolation.

By some unfair alchemy, Judy was caught up in it, had become part of it – almost something to be feared. With his rational mind, he knew that she was sweet, loyal, innocent – a friend for life – and that he had somehow betrayed her by disappearing, by failing to fulfil his promise to write. One day, all this would have to be faced – he knew it, but oh, dear God – not yet. Not yet.

There were times when he was acutely conscious of it, and other times when he was able to thrust it all to the back of his mind. But day or night, it never went away.

Shaking off the melancholy, he turned his attention to Lucy. ‘Come along, madam!’ he teased with an easy smile. ‘Chop chop!’

‘Oh, there’s no rush. Let’s just wander.’ She curled her arm through his. ‘It’s so nice to have you all to myself, without Dad monopolising you.’

As they strolled through the High Street, Dave thought how comfortable he felt with Lucy holding onto him. She was a lovely girl, and he had great affection for her. But he was shocked to find that the more comfortable he felt, the more he found himself thinking of Judy. His feelings for his employer’s daughter were triggering other, long-buried emotions. Taking a deep breath, Dave returned to the present moment.

Lucy had a wonderful time going in and out of shops and taking Dave with her; though he felt embarrassed at the curious looks the sales assistants gave him in Etam and Marks & Spencer. They had fun listening to a couple of new records in a booth at the radiogram shop near Woolworths. Both of them were Cliff Richard fans, and Dave bought his latest EP for them both to listen to.

Dave was paid a good wage by Frank – enough to run a car and make regular payments into a Post Office savings account. It was the first time he’d ever had spare money, and today he enjoyed lashing out on a new shirt, shoes and trousers for best. Lucy naughtily tried to persuade him to get a pair of winkle-pickers, but as he explained to her, tongue in cheek, they would frighten the horses!

By midday, he and Lucy were loaded down with bags and boxes, and Maggie the same. ‘Whew, what a rush!’ She came stumbling towards them. ‘I tell you what, my darlings,’ she gasped. ‘I’m more than ready for a cuppa tea.’

Fortunately, there was a café just round the corner. The trio found a table by the window and fell into the seats. ‘I feel worn out,’ Dave laughed. ‘I’d rather shift a ton of bricks than do that again!’

‘You might have to do it again when you’re married,’ Maggie chuckled. ‘Wives need their husbands to carry the shopping.’

Dave was taken aback, while Lucy stared at her wide-eyed. ‘Who said anything about getting married?’ the girl asked, blushing.

‘I’m a woman,’ Maggie answered coyly. ‘And we have a way of sensing things.’ She tapped her nose. ‘Now then, where’s that waitress?’

After they had ordered a plate of sandwiches and some drinks, they started looking through their purchases.

‘Now then, Lucy.’ Maggie prised open the largest of her shopping bags. ‘What d’you think to this?’ Whipping out a mad creation of black lace and brown roses, she popped it onto her head.

‘Well, I never!’ Lucy was astonished at the change in Maggie. ‘I’ve never seen you in a hat before. It really suits you.’

Maggie beamed with delight. ‘What I want to know is, do I look like Dorothy Lamour?’

‘Who’s she when she’s at home?’ Dave asked.

‘Good Lord!’ Maggie was astounded. ‘Are you telling me you don’t know who Dorothy Lamour is?’

‘Neither do I,’ Lucy confessed.

The Scotswoman sighed. ‘She’s a film star … made a lot of films wearing a swimsuit, dancing in the water to music. But she sometimes dresses up all fancy. Yes, she is an amazing-looking woman!’ She preened, and posed with her hat. ‘So, do you think I look a bit like a film star in this?’

Lucy glanced at Dave who was thoroughly enjoying the conversation. ‘What do you think?’ she asked, straight-faced. ‘Do you think that Maggie looks like a Dorothy Lamour?’

Before he could answer, the waitress was back with a big tray. ‘Ooh, you do look nice,’ she said, admiring Maggie’s frivolous hat. ‘I reckon you’re the spitting image of Dorothy Lamour. I’ve seen a few of her films, and she’s a right glamour-puss.’

Maggie almost swooned. ‘There!’ She gave Dave and Lucy a haughty look. ‘I’m glad somebody knows who I’m talking about.’ For a while after that, there was no controlling her.

While they enjoyed their lunchtime snack, they talked of Seamus and the way Frank had managed to keep his temper, most of the time. ‘I’m surprised Frank didn’t take a horse-whip to him!’ Maggie said indignantly.

‘I’m worried,’ Lucy said quietly. ‘It was a terrible thing, to lose Molly like that, and when Dad threw him out on his ear, Seamus promised all kinds of trouble. To me, he seems the sort to carry out his threat. I’m scared, Dave. Will he really come back, do you think?’

‘He’ll have to get through me if he does come back,’ Dave promised. ‘But Macintyre is all mouth and no substance, so I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you.’

Maggie wasn’t so certain. ‘I haven’t said anything to your father about this, Lucy, but I think Seamus is a thoroughly bad lot. I’ve heard the way he talked to the stable girls, and once he came back late at night, drunk as a Lord … mad as a bull, he was.’

Hesitating, she hoped she was right in mentioning the following incident. ‘The next day, young Laura from the top yard had an angry red mark across her face, as though somebody had slapped her really hard. I asked if Seamus had hurt her, and she denied it – got a bit upset at me asking. She made me promise I would not repeat that to anyone, or she would have to leave. And anyway, she insisted it was not Seamus, but a disgruntled boyfriend.’

‘And was it – a boyfriend?’ Lucy was horrified.

Maggie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Well, it wasn’t my right to question her. Anyway, in the end, I took her at her word and said nothing. But I regret it now, because if I’d spoken out and it was discovered that it really was Seamus who got rough with her, he’d have been sent on his way long ago.’

Dave could see how Maggie was blaming herself. ‘You did what you thought was right,’ he told her now. ‘You believed Laura. Any one of us might have done the same.’

The woman wasn’t so sure. ‘The thing is, I’ve seen Seamus drunk before when he’s come home late,’ she confessed. ‘I’ve seen him throwing things about. Once he kicked at the fencing and smashed it through. During the day he seemed always to be working, calm as you like – pleasant, even. He was a right Jekyll and Hyde,’ she recalled his behaviour, ‘because when he’d been drinking, he was out of his mind.’

‘And you never told Dad any of this?’ Lucy asked.

‘No. Like I say, maybe I should have. But as far as I know, he never hurt anyone or did any real damage to speak of, and he was a natural with the animals.’

She gave an almighty sigh. ‘I didn’t think your father would thank me for telling tales, especially when he got along so well with Seamus. Frank trusted him as his head groom. Relied on him to keep that part of the business running smoothly.’

Dave agreed. ‘You’re right.’ He could see Maggie working herself up to misery. ‘If there was no real damage done and no evidence that he was not doing his work properly, Frank might well have given him the benefit of the doubt – and then you would have felt all the worse for telling.’ He recalled how Frank had been oblivious of his daughter’s reservations about Seamus, the day he had first come to the stud farm, nearly four years ago.

Maggie gave a sigh of relief, and took off her hat. ‘Oh Dave, thank you. You’ve put my mind at rest.’

Lucy gave her a hug. ‘So there you are, and now you can have a look at the shoes I’ve bought for the barn-dance this Saturday.’

With the confession off her chest, Maggie was her old self again. ‘Go on then,’ she urged. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got.’

When Lucy took out the shoes, Maggie oohed and aahed and said how pretty they were. The shoes were dark blue, with high heels and a peep toe, and where the foot slipped into the shoe, there was a darling yellow daisy. ‘I’d never get my big clodhoppers in there,’ Maggie groaned, ‘but you’ll look a picture in them, come Saturday.’ She rubbed her hands gleefully. ‘Put them away and let me see what else you’ve got.’

One by one, and much to Dave’s amusement, Lucy displayed the articles. There was the daintiest pink crocheted bolero; a pretty blue, long-sleeved dress with a cinched waist and big belt, and a dark green skirt that hugged the hips and swung out at the hem. ‘Lovely!’ Maggie was beside herself. ‘Wish I could get into them!’

Across the room behind the counter, the two waitresses drooled over Lucy’s choice of clothes. ‘Take down the name on the carrier bags,’ one urged the other. ‘I’m gonna save all me tips, and when I get me wages on Friday, I’m off to see if there’s anything left worth having.’