Whispers Read online

  ‘Come on, chop-chop,’ she ordered with a smile, and Jo reluctantly turned and left the room.

  When she came back ten minutes later dressed in jeans and an old T-shirt, Jess pointed to a plateful of tuna sandwiches and a Kit-Kat on the table. Jo wolfed the whole lot down in seconds before calling Alfie and heading for the door as Jess heaved a silent sigh of relief.

  After lunch, Jess put the sketches in the car, and she and Jo visited the art shop in Abbey Street where they chose three nice frames that Jess felt would fit in perfectly with the décor in her bedroom. The man who owned the shop assured her that he would have them done for her by the end of the following week, and she and Jo then went to do some food shopping at the supermarket. Laura and Beth were sitting on the bench in the courtyard waiting for them when they arrived back.

  ‘Why didn’t you go in and make yourself a cuppa?’ Jess asked. ‘The door’s unlocked as the decorators are in.’

  Laura shook her head. ‘It’s too nice to be indoors so we thought we’d wait for you here.’

  Jess secretly thought that it was probably more due to the fact that Laura was reluctant to go into the house, but refrained from saying so. There was only so much drama she could stand in one day, and she felt she’d already had enough with Jo’s episode.

  Beth and Jo instantly shot off to play by the lake as Jess took a seat at the side of Laura.

  ‘Has Jo not been to school today then?’ Laura asked. She had noticed that the girl wasn’t wearing her uniform.

  ‘No, she hasn’t. She had a nightmare last night and ended up in our bed with me and Simon. Then when she got up this morning she said she wasn’t feeling well, so I thought I’d give her the benefit of the doubt, though she’ll certainly be going in tomorrow.’

  ‘What sort of a nightmare was it?’ Laura probed.

  ‘The poor lass thought she saw someone standing at the side of her bed looking down on her. It scared her.’

  Laura didn’t say anything. She could sense that Jess was as taut as a spring and didn’t want to upset her. They were still sitting there chatting when Simon pulled into the courtyard in his lorry, and Jess started guiltily.

  ‘Good grief. It’s never that time already? I wasn’t expecting him for at least another couple of hours.’

  Simon hopped lithely down from the cab and strolled over to them with a charming smile on his face.

  ‘Don’t look so worried,’ he told Jess. ‘I had to finish early. The extra bricks we ordered didn’t arrive, so there didn’t seem to be much point sitting there twiddling our thumbs.’ Then turning to Laura he told her, ‘You’re looking very nice today, Laura. Is that a new blouse you’re wearing?’

  Laura blushed becomingly as Jess silently seethed. Simon was such a flirt, and quite open with it too. She wondered how he would feel if she were to be as openly admiring to one of his friends.

  ‘I’d better go in and start dinner,’ she said shortly. ‘Would you like to come in for a drink before you go, Laura?’

  ‘No, thanks all the same but I ought to get back to start Den’s dinner too. Bye for now.’

  Jess nodded and went inside with Simon following close on her heels. Once they were in the privacy of the kitchen she slammed over to the sink and filled the kettle.

  ‘So what’s wrong with your health and temper then, eh, miss?’ Dropping onto a chair, Simon stretched his long legs in front of him.

  ‘Not a thing.’ Jess would not give him the satisfaction of letting him see that he had upset her.

  ‘If you say so,’ he muttered, obviously not believing her. ‘So where are Mel and Jo then?’

  ‘Mel just got back from school. She’s in her room as usual and Jo is playing outside with Beth,’ she said tersely.

  ‘No changes there then,’ he commented. ‘And are you off to see Karen tonight?’

  ‘Yes, I am. Why, is there a problem?’

  ‘Not at all. There’s some snooker on the telly this evening so I shall be quite happy left to my own devices with that and a few cans of lager.’

  Jess began to unwind, feeling slightly foolish now for the way she had acted. She really would have to curb her jealousy where Simon was concerned. She’d got to the stage where she imagined he was about to run off with every attractive woman he laid eyes on. At that moment, Beth and Jo burst into the kitchen and as usual, at the sight of Simon, Beth’s pretty face lit up.

  ‘Hello, love,’ he said as she shot across to him. ‘Been a good girl for your mum today, have you?’

  She nodded eagerly as he put the flat of his hand gently in the small of her back and pushed her towards the door. ‘You’d best get yourself off home now then. Jo will be having her dinner soon and your mum will think you’ve got lost.’

  Jess instantly forgave him everything as she saw how tender he was with the girl. Beth obviously adored him, which Jess found very touching. The girl had so little in her life and his kindness obviously meant a lot to her.

  As Jess was leaving their bedroom after getting changed to go and see Karen that evening, she saw Simon leaving Mel’s room and heard Mel crying loudly.

  ‘What’s wrong now?’ she asked.

  Simon scowled. ‘We’ve just had words. She wanted to come and see Karen with you, but after the school reports we’ve been getting I’ve told her she’s got to stay here and get some studying done. And don’t look at me like that – you’re always saying I leave everything about the girls’ schooling down to you. I’m only trying to help.’

  Jess felt as if she was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. Mel ventured out so rarely nowadays, apart from to go to school, that Jess thought it might have done her good to get out for a while. But on the other hand she knew that what Simon was saying was perfectly true. She did complain that he left too much responsibility for their schoolwork on her shoulders. And if she undermined his authority now it would only cause another row.

  ‘I suppose you are right,’ she said uncertainly, trying to ignore the sound of Mel’s sobs. ‘Jo and I will shoot off then. We shouldn’t be too late, but don’t wait up for us if you fancy an early night.’

  He nodded as she padded along the landing, and soon she and Jo were in the car and heading down the drive, although strangely she didn’t really feel like going now.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning, as soon as she was alone, Jess took Martha’s journal from the drawer. There were a million and one jobs that needed doing, but she was feeling restless and wasn’t in the mood.

  I’ll just allow myself ten minutes, she promised herself, but the second she opened the book to the next entry, 13 July 1837, she was oblivious to anything else as she went back in time once more.

  ‘Granny, the tinker is here with his cart,’ Martha shouted as she looked out of the kitchen window.

  ‘Huh, so he is, an’ no doubt yer wages will be burnin’ a hole in yer pocket,’ the old woman commented as she looked up from the pastry she was rolling.

  Throwing her a cheeky grin, Martha raced away to her room and came back with a collection of small coins in her hand. Before her granny could stay her, she skipped outside and approached the man’s car.

  ‘Good mornin’, me darlin’, an’ how might you be this fine day?’ The old tinker doffed his cap as Martha’s eyes swept over his wares.

  ‘I’m very well thank you, Mr Dawson. An’ what have you on offer today?’

  ‘Well, there be some fine ribbons here. They’d look a rare treat in your bonny hair. Or there’s a linctus will cure everythin’ from a headache to a fever. Or perhaps you’d like to try the scent? Made from fresh roses petal, it is, an’ guaranteed to ’ave the lads droppin’ at yet feet.’

  He pulled the stopper from a small glass bottle as he spoke and held it out to Martha with a flourish, and she almost swooned with delight and blushed as she thought of Jimmy.

  ‘Oh, that’s just beautiful,’ she sighed. ‘But is it very expensive? If I could afford it I would wear it to Grace’s weddin
g and keep it for very special occasions.’

  ‘To you, me dear, two o’ them shiny coppers yer ’ave in yer fair ’and an’ you’ll be gettin’ a bargain.’

  ‘I think you’re right,’ Martha agreed, readily handing the coins over.

  It was then that a commotion in one of the outbuildings caught their attention, and Martha saw Grace emerge at a run, almost tripping over her skirts in her haste. She was crying, but as Martha made to go towards her, the Master also emerged. He was red in the face and swayed dangerously on his feet as he tried to pick the straw from his breeches, cursing beneath his breath. It was then that he caught sight of the tinker and with a silly grin he swaggered towards him.

  ‘Morning, my man. Come to tempt my girls with your wares, have you?’ He seemed in a fine humour now but Martha was nervous and edged away. She saw Grace disappear into the dairy and would have followed her but the Master caught her arm and looked her up and down.

  ‘She’s growing into a little beauty, wouldn’t you agree, Mr Dawson?’

  The old tinker swiped his cap off and ran a hand over his balding head, clearly ill at ease. ‘She is that, sir. Won’t be long now afore some young fella-me-lad snaps her up, eh?’

  ‘Not too soon, I hope.’

  Martha squirmed as the Master’s eyes seemed to bore into her very soul. Just then, Bertie rounded the corner, and seeing the Master’s hand on Martha’s arm, he began to stride towards them.

  ‘Er . . . happen it’s time I was on me way now. Good day to you, sir, miss!’ And with that the tinker grabbed the handles of his cart and trundled it across the cobbled courtyard as if Old Nick himself were snapping at his heels. The Master meantime released Martha and with a scathing glance at Bertie disappeared off into the house.

  ‘So what’s going on here then?’ Bertie demanded.

  Martha clutched her precious rose water, saying, ‘I ain’t sure, Bertie, but our Grace is in a rare dither. I just saw her come out o’ one o’ the outbuildin’s cryin’, an’ seconds later the Master followed her. He were swayin’ about.’

  ‘Where did she go?’ Bertie demanded as his hands clenched into fists.

  ‘Into the dairy,’ Martha informed him in a small voice, and without another word he turned on his heel and headed in that direction as Martha scuttled away to the kitchen.

  Granny Reid raised an eyebrow as Martha raced in and without wasting a second the girl launched into an explanation of what had happened.

  ‘Damn him to hell an’ back!’ the old woman exclaimed as she leaned heavily on the edge of the scrubbed oak table. ‘No doubt he’s drunk again.’

  ‘But it ain’t even eleven o’clock in the mornin’ yet,’ Martha said incredulously.

  ‘The time o’ day don’t matter to him,’ her granny ground out. ‘I’ve seen ’im drinkin’ brandy wi’ his breakfast. It’ll be his downfall, you just mark my words. But for now give Bertie an’ Grace a bit o’ time to themselves, eh?’

  Bemused, Martha nodded before going about her chores.

  It was later that evening when Grace had served the Master his evening meal that Martha overheard her talking to Bertie in the courtyard. Their voices were raised.

  ‘He is our employer and I must do as he orders,’ Grace told him.

  ‘Not everything he orders.’ Bertie was clearly very distressed. ‘I swear to you, Grace, much more o’ this an’ I’ll kill the bastard, so help me.’

  ‘Martha, come away from there this instant!’

  Granny Reid’s voice made Martha jump, and she flushed as she realised that the old woman had caught her eavesdropping.

  ‘Really, I don’t know what gets into you,’ the old woman scolded. ‘First of all yer go fritterin’ yer hard-earned money away on rubbish from the tinker, an’ then you go listenin’ in to yer sister’s private conversations.’

  ‘I’m fed up with you all still treating me like a child, and perhaps I’m just trying to find out what’s going on around here,’ Martha dared to answer back. ‘You’ve always served the Master his meals till lately, Granny, so why all of a sudden is he insistin’ that Grace serves him? And why does Bertie get so upset when she does?’

  ‘The lessen yer know, the lessen you’ll ’ave to worry about. Now get that dinin’ room cleared an’ let’s be havin’ no more o’ yer lip, eh?’

  Snatching up a tray, Martha slammed into the dining room and began to load the dirty pots onto it. Something was going on here but it was clear that no one was going to tell her what it was. Once the table was cleared she placed the tray on the polished mahogany sideboard that ran the length of one wall while she whisked the snow-white damask cloth off the table. Then, with the cloth under her arm ready for the laundry, and balancing the heavy tray in her hands, she headed back to the kitchen.

  She was trying to open the green baize door that led into the kitchen when she heard voices from within, and once more she became still as she listened intently.

  ‘I swear, as God is me witness, I’ll do fer ’im if I have to,’ she heard Bertie say, and his voice was full of anguish.

  ‘That’s enough o’ that sort o’ talk,’ she heard Granny reply. ‘He’s our Master, lad, and there’s nowt we can do about it. His word is law an’ we have no choice but to obey him. We either do as we’re told or it’s the poor house fer all of us, an’ yer wouldn’t be wantin’ that fer Grace, now would yer?’

  Deciding that she had heard enough, Martha pushed the door open with her hip and was just in time to see Bertie slam his fist onto the table, setting the milk jug dancing. He was crying, but when Martha appeared he stood up abruptly and left without another word.

  ‘Where’s Grace?’ Martha asked, as she placed the tray on the table.

  ‘She’s gone up to her room – she ain’t feelin’ so good.’

  Granny’s lips were set in a hard line, and knowing that it would be pointless to ask any more questions, Martha carried the pots to the deep stone sink and began the unenviable task of washing them up.

  That night, as Martha lay in bed, she heard her sister crying in the next bed, but feeling powerless to help her she turned her face into the pillow and tried to lose herself in sleep. They had all been so happy living there until the Mistress had left, but now things were going from bad to worse.

  The next morning, as Martha helped her grandmother to prepare the breakfast, she peeped at her from the corner of her eye before venturing, ‘I heard Grace cry herself to sleep last night.’

  ‘There you go again, pokin’ yer nose in where it ain’t wanted,’ the woman said crossly. ‘I’ve a good mind to box yer ears, me gel. There’s bad things goin’ on here. Things as don’t concern yer – an’ if we’re not careful we’ll all be out on our arses, so just let things lie, eh?’

  Mid-morning, Martha was working in the dairy churning butter when she heard Grace and Bertie walking past, ‘Please, love, let’s just up an’ go,’ she heard Bertie implore her.

  ‘Granny is too old fer a life on the open road or the poorhouse. We must endure it,’ she heard Grace reply, but then the couple moved out of earshot and Martha could only groan with frustration.

  It was lunchtime when Martha next entered the kitchen to find Bertie and Grace chatting to Granny.

  ‘His lordship come in ’ere this mornin’ an’ told me to prepare a lunch fer Farmer Codd from Leathermill Farm tomorrow,’ Gran informed Martha. ‘We’re thinkin’ he’s happen plannin’ on sellin’ off some more of his land.’

  ‘It’ll be a dark day fer all of us including the Tolleys if he does,’ Bertie muttered. The Tolley family lived in a cottage in the grounds. ‘Not so long ago the land amounted to more than ten acres but I doubt he owns five now, an’ there ain’t goin’ to be enough work fer ’im to keep us all on if any more goes.’

  Mention of Leathermill instantly made Martha think of Jimmy and she felt colour burn into her cheeks. She had been working towards asking Granny if she could walk out with him as he had asked her to on the last market-day, but now
didn’t seem to be the right time. In fact, nothing felt right at present and yet Grace and Bertie were due to be wed in just three weeks’ time at the charming little church, St Theobald and St Chad’s in Caldecote. Surely this should be a happy time? It was all very worrying.

  Jess paused and put down the journal as the first rumbles of thunder could be heard in the distance. The sky had gone ominously dark and she pulled her cardigan more tightly about her. Martha had mentioned the scented rosewater she had bought off the travelling tinker. Could this be the smell that had lingered in her room in the attic? She dismissed the idea almost immediately, and yet . . . A flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the room and Jess started in shock before leaping from the bed and rushing to the window. A strong wind had blown up from nowhere and the curtains were billowing into the room as the first heavy drops of rain began to fall. After a struggle she managed to close the window and looked back at the book on the bed. It was then that she sensed someone standing close behind her again and she whirled about to find that she was alone.

  I’m not sure if it’s doing me any good reading this journal, she thought to herself. And then she grinned. If she wasn’t careful she would start to believe all the same gobbledegook as Laura. Spirits indeed! There was no such thing. Annoyed with herself, she set off purposefully down the stairs, intent on getting some work done.

  ‘What’s this then?’ Simon asked that night as he lifted the journal from the duvet.

  Jess groaned silently. She had meant to put it away. ‘Oh, it’s just an old journal I found up in the attic,’ she said dismissively, shoving it into the drawer of the bedside table.

  ‘Really? Whose was it?’

  ‘Just some servant girl who used to work here, from what I can make of it.’ Jess was keen to change the subject. She turned to Simon with a seductive smile as he slipped into bed. ‘But never mind about that for now. Do you fancy a cuddle?’

  Simon yawned. ‘Can’t say as I do, to be honest, love. I’m dead beat. Perhaps tomorrow, eh? Goodnight.’

  Slightly miffed, Jess climbed in beside him. It was usually she who pleaded a headache or some such ailment but lately the tables were turning and she wondered briefly if he was having another fling. Almost immediately, she felt guilty. He was working hard from early in the morning until late at night most days. No wonder that he wasn’t in the mood for romance. He probably just didn’t have the energy for it.