The Mallen Girl Page 20

  ‘Oh, Dad, who’ll go slack under you? Anyway, no-one pays much attention to me. As McClurk said only yesterday, “You, Mr Dan, are only here to make the numbers up.”’

  ‘McClurk wants his big mouth stopped. If he’s not careful he’ll get his pay stopped an’ all; that’ll keep him dry for a time. I would have done it long since if it hadn’t been for the thirteen he’s got in his squad. Aw, go on.’ He flapped his hand now toward Dan. ‘Get yourself away.’

  ‘No, I won’t bother.’

  ‘Get yourself off, I tell you. God Almighty! I don’t want to spend three nights and all day Sunday lookin’ at your face.’

  ‘Is Aunt Florrie coming on Sunday?’

  ‘Aye, I suppose so. Why d’you ask?’

  ‘Well, you won’t have to bother looking at my face.’

  ‘Now look here, lad, your Aunt Florrie means…’

  ‘Yes, I know; I’ve heard it all before, my Aunt Florrie means well. But she gets on my nerves. And why do you encourage her?’

  ‘Encourage her! What do you mean, encourage her?’

  ‘Just that. Tell me something. Have…have you ideas in her direction?’

  ‘Hell’s flames! Who do you think you are, lad, questioning me along those lines? Look, it doesn’t matter what ideas I’ve got in that direction, it’s got nowt to do with you.’

  ‘You wouldn’t, would you?’ Dan’s voice was quiet and serious now.

  ‘Wouldn’t what? What the hell are you on about?’

  ‘You know.’

  ‘All right I know, an’ I think I’m old enough to please meself, that is when the time comes, when it’s decent to talk about such things. Now get out of me sight, and if you’re going over you’d better get a move on ’cos as it is you won’t land there till late the night. And by the way’—Harry checked Dan as he made for the door—‘you and The Brigadier can get talkin’ and comfort each other over the same subject, your Aunt Florrie, because she sniffs every time she looks at her. Aye, that’s it, you get talking to her and tell her how worried you are about me having ideas in that direction, eh. And give her my regards when you’re at it. And listen a minute.’ He again checked Dan. ‘Bring some butter and cheese back with you from the farm; the stuff I’ve had the last few days has never seen a cow. An’ that’s an idea. Tell Brigie that if there’s none of us there at the weekend to send on some farm stuff. I don’t see why they should all stuff their kites with the fat of my land and us livin’ here on shop kit. I must have been barmy all these years. And by! Lad’—he now nodded his head sharply—‘I’m positive I’m still barmy, ’cos why do I keep the bloody place on anyway? You tell me that.’

  ‘So as I can go down at weekends.’

  Harry didn’t answer this, but leaned back in his chair and said quietly, ‘You know, I think I’d be savin’ money if I let you go your own way now, but I said a year, and you said a year, and we’ll stick to it. Go on, get yourself out afore I change me mind.’ His voice trailed away; then he grabbed some papers toward him and looked to where Dan was still standing near the door, and now he bellowed, ‘Go on with you! Else I will, mind.’

  ‘Why don’t you come down? I’ll wait till tomorrow morning if you’ll come down. There’s no need for you to stay…’

  ‘Look, lad, I see no fun in scurrying to a train, spending eight solid hours travelling, only to get a whiff of fresh air, have a meal, go to bed, and then do it all backwards again.’

  ‘You enjoyed last weekend.’

  ‘You think so? Well, for your information I’ll tell you this, I didn’t. I had a bloody miserable weekend. Once in three weeks or a month is enough for me. And there’s nothing hurting down there. As long as The Brigadier’s in charge things will be run accordin’ to the book.’ He pressed his lips together and jerked his head and ended, ‘I picked a good ’un there. I’ve often thought that if she was at this end there wouldn’t be need for half the staff. By the way, lad—I suppose I should have thought of this afore to ask you—what’s your attraction down there? What makes you want to take such a journey for so little?’

  ‘Let’s say it’s the air, Dad.’ Dan nodded at his father, grinned, then went out, and Harry, tapping the desk, said, ‘The air? Now who is there down there that would qualify for air?’

  Long before Dan reached his destination he was thinking his father was right. Why make this long tedious journey by train, and a further bone-rattling one by cart or carriage from the station, twice in forty-eight hours, and for what? Yes, for what?

  His only guide in the black dark as he went down the road from the little station to the cluster of cottages was the distant dim lights in the windows.

  He had to knock three times on Ben Taggert’s door, and the third time he banged on it to make himself heard above the din of voices coming from within. The door was opened by a boy of about ten who peered up at him and said, ‘Aye, what’s it?’

  ‘Is your father in?’

  ‘No.’ The boy now turned his head on his shoulder and yelled, ‘Ma! a man wants me da.’

  The woman who came to the door was surrounded by a group of children that looked a series of steps and stairs, and by the roundness of her middle she was about to add to their number.

  ‘Ben’s not in, mister,’ she said.

  ‘When is he due back?’

  ‘Don’t know; couldn’t say the night.’

  ‘But is he coming back tonight?’

  ‘Couldn’t say, mister, not with the carry-on. Finished his journey around five, then went off again to help in the search.’

  She turned to one of the children, crying now, ‘Bring the lamp!’ and when the child brought the lamp she held it up high and exclaimed on a laugh, ‘Ho! it’s you, mister, one from High Banks. Aw well, ’tis to your part he’s gone an’ workin’ round there this minute.’

  He paused for a moment before he asked her, ‘Has he taken visitors?’

  ‘No, no, not visitors; looking for the girl he is; lost yesterday on the hills. All Hall an’ farm out, an’ lots of others all night. Perhaps you know her, it’s the Mallen girl. Ben’s known her from when she was a mite, an’ her mother afore her, took ’em over the hills many’s the time…’

  Incredulously he repeated the name, then added, ‘Lost last night? How?’

  ‘No tellin’; just know she went out on the hills an’ the folk from your place went a-lookin for her, and when Ben went that way this mornin’ the place was an uproar. They asked him to keep on the lookout an’ he did, but t’wer no sign of her he says, and as soon as he got back the night off he went again. Knew her he did, and her mother afore her, like I said. But there’s more in it than meets the eye, he said. Picked up something at Wolfbur Farm, he did. She’d been over, the Mallen girl. In an uproar there an’ all. I couldn’t get the bottom of it. He just gulped his tea an’ off he went. Usually tells me the tale he does but just said, “More in it than meets the eye,” he said. Big trouble over at Wolfbur. You can come in and wait if you like.’

  No, no. He shook his head and tried to control his thinking. Barbara gone and trouble at Wolfbur. What trouble? Had she in desperation done something to Michael? And where had she got to since last night?

  ‘Do you know where I could get a horse?’

  ‘A horse?’ The woman spoke as if she had never heard of a horse before; then she repeated, ‘A horse, this time a night?’

  ‘Big Ned’s got one in the smithy, not being collected till the day after the morrow.’ It was the boy who had opened the door speaking. ‘Might lend it to you, mister. It’s not his, but still he might lend it to you.’

  ‘Whereabouts is the smithy?’

  There was a chortle from the children at the ignorance of the man, and some of them chorused together, ‘Why! yon end, round the corner.’

  ‘Light a lantern and take the gentleman to Big Ned’s.’ The mother was commanding the tallest boy now, and the boy went back into the room and appeared within a minute with a candle lantern.

  Da
n thanked the woman, and the children chorused after him, ‘So long, mister! So long, mister!’ And he looked back at them where they stood huddled round the woman like a group of little demons in the dim light and he answered them in kind, saying, ‘So long. So long.’

  The blacksmith was on the point of retiring. ‘A horse at this time of night!’ he said. ‘I don’t know, I don’t know; it isn’t mine.’

  ‘Whose…whose is it?’

  ‘Jim Shallbrank’s.’

  ‘Oh, the farmer on the Allendale road. I know him slightly, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. I’ll recompense him well for it. Anyway, you’ll have it back tomorrow.’

  ‘You from the Hall you say?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘They don’t bring their shoeing here, do they?’

  ‘No, no, I don’t suppose they do.’

  ‘No, they don’t.’

  ‘I suppose it’s because there’s a smithy much nearer.’

  ‘Not so much as all that.’

  Dan took a half-sovereign from his purse. It shone like a small new moon as he held it out between his finger and thumb and the man, looking at it, said, ‘Aw, well, well. You’ll have to wait till I get me things on, coat and the like; it’s bitter the night an’…an’ it’ll be worse afore mornin’. Black frost this is.’

  Fifteen minutes later the horse was saddled and Dan was mounted and the boy walked by his side from the smithy yard on to the rough road and there Dan, again putting his hand into his pocket, drew forth a coin which he handed down to the boy, and the boy, his mouth agape, took it, then stared at it as he said, ‘But…but ’tis a full golden sovereign, an’…an’ I’ve done nowt.’

  ‘You got me a horse. And now you can do me another favour; you can loan me that lantern, it’ll be returned to you tomorrow.’

  ‘Aye, sir, aye, with pleasure.’ The boy handed the lantern up to him and Dan, gathering the reins in one hand, took it from him and held it against the pommel. Then nodding down at the boy and saying to the horse, ‘Get up there,’ he moved off; while the boy’s voice came through the darkness, shouting, ‘I’m your man, mister. Any time, any job, I’m your man.’

  ‘Good enough,’ he called back, then held the lantern up over the horse’s head until they were clear off the pot-holed lane and had reached the carriage road.

  That he did the journey without mishap he knew was more by good luck than management, for the lantern proved of dubious benefit to both the horse and himself. Not being stabilised, the candle several times threatened to extinguish itself, and it was only by the horse’s instinct and good sense that he had been saved from going over its head more than once.

  When he slipped from the saddle onto the empty drive there was no-one to be seen, not even in the stable yard, nothing to suggest any anxiety being present. He looped the reins over a post, then ran up the steps but when he turned the handle of the front door and found it open he knew that this was unusual, for his parents, being town bred, never went to bed without bolting the doors and had insisted on the same habit being carried out since they had come to the Hall.

  There was no-one to be seen when he entered the house but making a guess where Brooks would be at this time if still up, he made for the staff room, and as he thrust open the door three startled faces turned from the table toward him, those of Mrs Kenley, Brooks and Armstrong.

  Without preamble he demanded, ‘What’s happened, what’s this they’re saying? Is there any truth in it?’

  ‘Why! Mr Dan, we didn’t expect you.’ Mrs Kenley was the first to rise; and Brooks, following, said, ‘No, Mr Dan, we didn’t expect you, we didn’t think you’d get the letter till the morrow mornin’.’

  ‘Letter! We’ve had no letter. But…but tell me, what has happened?’

  They now looked from one to the other. Then Brooks, assuming the debatable position as head of the house in the absence of his master and the Brigadier, said, ‘If you’ll just come this way, Mr Dan, I’ll give you the details as far as known.’

  As they reached the door Mrs Kenley said, ‘Would you like something to eat, sir?’

  ‘Yes, please, Mrs Kenley, but just a snack. It’s a hot drink I need most.’

  After standing aside to let Dan enter the drawing room, Brooks closed the door, then stood just within the room because Dan too had stopped.

  Showing impatience and his voice bearing this out, Dan demanded, ‘What is it? What is all this about, Brooks? They say Miss Barbara’s missing.’

  ‘Yes, sir, she’s missing. Been gone since yesterday afternoon. Coming on dark when she ran from the trap and on to the fells. So…so Miss Brigmore says.’

  After a moment, during which Dan gulped in his throat and his hands, which had been stiff with cold, became suddenly clammy, he muttered, ‘And there’s been no sign of her since?’

  ‘Neither hilt nor hair. The staff’s taken it in turns all day to scour the hillsides an’ the countryside, to Hexham one way, Haltwhistle t’other. But, as I said, I couldn’t see her gettin’ that far; she’d be dead beat long afore she reached there, it being eight to ten miles’ distance…’

  ‘Did…did they search the river?’ He asked this question quietly.

  ‘She didn’t go that way so Miss Brigmore said. She’s convinced she went into the hills. As for meself I’m convinced that if she did, an’ didn’t get into shelter, there’s not much use searching for her. A night up on there and her without a pick on her bones she wouldn’t…’

  ‘All right, all right.’ He walked slowly toward the fire, then turned to where Brooks was still standing and asked, ‘Where’s Miss Brigmore now?’

  ‘The last I saw her was around five o’clock. Mrs Kenley tried to get her to lie down ’cos she was droppin’ on her feet but she wouldn’t stay; she went along home; like a madwoman she is. It’s been a time, I can tell you…’

  The door was pushed open and Armstrong entered with a tray and when he placed it on a table to the side of the fireplace and began to arrange the things on it, Dan said sharply, ‘Don’t fuss with that. Tell me, is there anyone in the stables?’

  ‘Yes, Master Dan; Howard’s there, but the rest are still out lookin’, but they should be back anytime ’cos it’s not much use…’

  ‘Tell Howard to get me the trap ready.’ Dan cut him off. ‘No, on second thoughts, just a horse. And have him fix me a lantern. Oh, and by the way, I’ve left a horse in the drive, I forgot.’ He shook his head. ‘Tell him to see to the animal; it’s got to be returned to Shallbrank’s farm tomorrow. I’ll send a note along with it. Tell him to remind me.’

  After the two men had left the room he stood, his head bowed, gripping the mantelpiece while his teeth dug deep into his lower lip.

  After a moment he turned and poured out a cup of black coffee, which he drank almost at one go, then picking up a piece of cold pie he chewed on it as he hurried out, then ran across the hall and up the stairs to his room to change into clothes suitable for a night ride.

  It was Mary who opened the door to him. Her face weary for want of sleep and tear-stained, she peered at him, then said, ‘Oh! Mr Dan, Mr Dan. Oh, am I pleased to see you! Oh am I! Am I! Come in, come in. She’s in the sittin’ room. Do something with her, will you? Get her to rest. Oh! Mr Dan, for such a thing to happen to her. Is it never going to end?’

  She kept talking to him as he crossed the hall and opened the sitting-room door, and when he saw Brigie sitting before the fire, her body lost in the big leather-backed chair, he groaned inwardly, for her whole appearance spoke of despair.

  ‘Dan.’ She brought herself wearily upright. ‘Dan. You’ve heard?’

  ‘Yes, yes, a little.’

  ‘My Barbara’s dead, Dan.’

  He forced the saliva down his dry throat before asking, ‘They…they’ve found her?’

  ‘No, no; but if she were alive she would have come back.’

  ‘She could have tripped and fallen, and be…be lying in some ditch, or deep gully.’

  She was l
ooking into his eyes now and she repeated, ‘Or deep gully, Dan; and all night in the freezing cold. What she did was terrible, but…but she didn’t deserve that. Poor, poor Barbara, she didn’t deserve that.’

  ‘What did she do?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘She…she pushed Sarah down a hill, the place where they throw the old machinery. She wasn’t to know what would happen. Sarah’s leg was badly hurt.’ Her head moved again in small slow movements, and as if she were making a confession she said, ‘More than badly hurt, broken, and the flesh torn and gashed to the bone.’ She closed her eyes as if shutting out the picture, then ended, ‘And…and then she was attacked by Jim.’

  ‘Attacked? Barbara?’ He screwed up his face at her.

  ‘By his own words he struck her and…and if she understood one quarter of what he said he had told her, part of her must have died then; and the rest Michael killed, for his fury was as great as her own must have been as he looked into my face and repeated what Jim Waite had said to her, and then he added, “Never come back here again, do you hear?” Those were Michael’s words to me, Dan, “Never come back here again. Moreover,” he went on, “I’ve told her I never want to see her as long as she lives, and if anything happens to Sarah I’ll hate her until my dying day. I’ve told her I’m going to marry Sarah. And that’s for you too, do you hear? I’m going to marry Sarah. It’s finished, the plotting, the scheming, it’s finished.” And it was finished, Dan. When she mounted the trap on the road I knew it was finished. She was already dead inside, the only thing that was left of her then was to kill her body and…’

  ‘Stop it, Brigie.’ His voice held the same note as it had done when he checked Brooks’ ramblings. ‘If you haven’t found her there’s still hope. Look, tell me, tell me exactly which way she went.’

  ‘She mounted the bank just along the road that would take her on to the fells, and from there she could go either straight ahead toward Allendale, or to the left toward Catton.’