Chapter Seven
Ginger was the only witness. Most of the boys had grumbled at being forced to turn out for a run on New Year’s Day. Only the really keen types stripped to their running shorts and vests without complaint and set off along the cliff top path as usual. Ginger wasn’t a runner. He was small and slight, and malnutrition as a baby had weakened his bones and drained his energy. He was usually one of the last to return to Haven House along with Tod Walker.
Here was at least one thing that Tod could not bully someone else into doing for him. He had to complete the run along with everyone else and by the time he returned he would be in a state of complete fury. The others had learned to keep out of his way.
Ginger always hung back to avoid Tod and today was no different. Except that with the swirling mist coming in from the sea the way ahead was obscured and it was hard to tell who exactly was in front of him. This was really spooky, Ginger thought, like a Sherlock Holmes story he’d read, but he didn’t expect that he would see a murder.
The mist thickened and Ginger slowed down. He bent over and grasped his knees when he began to cough. This will be the death of me, he thought, and when the coughing spasm passed he straightened up and rubbed at his watery eyes with cold fingers. By the time he could see again the mist ahead had cleared and there, just like in the story, two figures were struggling on the very edge of the cliff.
Ginger blinked and stared at them. It was Tod and Joe . . . or was it Danny? From this distance he couldn’t tell the difference. It shouldn’t have been either of them. Both twins were reasonably fit and they usually got back to Haven House long before the likes of Tod Walker. Then, while he was still puzzling over this, it happened. Did Tod scream in terror as he went over the cliff or was it the eerie screech of a startled gull?
The mist swirled in again and Ginger remained where he was, trembling with fright. By the time the way ahead had cleared there was nothing to see, no one on the path ahead of him, and he set off fearfully, half-convinced that he had imagined it all. But then he came to a place where the turf was scuffed and he paused and inched towards the edge of the path. He looked down towards the beach, already knowing what he would see.
Tod Walker lay in a crumpled heap amongst the boulders. His eyes were open and he was staring upwards but Ginger knew that he couldn’t see anything. Nor would he ever see anything again. What must his last visions have been? The lowering sky? The cliff face hurtling upwards as he plunged towards the rocks below? The silhouetted figure of another boy looking down on him?
Ginger began to tremble uncontrollably as he tried to make sense of what he had witnessed a few short moments ago. Joe . . . Danny . . . Which one of them did this? And had it been an accident or something more sinister?
He had taken to the Norton twins straight away – lively Joe and quiet, thoughtful Danny. Nice lads, both of them, and Ginger couldn’t believe there was a bad bone in their bodies.
It must have been an accident. Ginger edged back from the cliff top and when he could no longer see the horror of what lay below the trembling subsided. The best thing he could do was to get back sharpish and see what was up. But whatever had happened he decided it wasn’t his place to land either of the twins in trouble.
By the time he got back to Haven House just about everybody had had their showers and they were filing into the dining room for tea. Ginger climbed the stairs slowly. As he reached the landing Joe and Danny came towards him.
‘Tail end as usual?’ Joe said.
Ginger thought Danny’s smile was strained when he said, ‘Don’t tease him, Joe, can’t you see he’s whacked?’
Their expressions didn’t give anything away. What was happening here? What had happened on the cliff top? Had Tod had a go at Danny and had Danny had to defend himself? Or had the bully boy picked a fight with Joe and Joe had got the better of him? Whatever the truth of it was Ginger baulked at asking them. He realized that for the sake of friendship he didn’t want to ask any questions in case he didn’t like the answers.
But when was anyone going to notice that Tod Walker had not returned?
The answer to that came just as Ginger was taking his place at the table. At last one of the teachers spotted that Tod had not signed in and Mr Jenkins, in a very bad humour, started questioning everybody. Joe and Danny shook their heads and professed ignorance like everybody else and Ginger kept quiet. Whatever had happened on the cliff top he was prepared to give the twins the benefit of the doubt, so the best thing to do was wait to see how things developed.
It didn’t take the search party long and by the end of the meal Mr Ridley called for silence and told the boys that there had been a tragic accident. Accident, Ginger thought. It could have been, couldn’t it? Perhaps Joe or Danny didn’t mean Tod to go over the cliff. By now he had convinced himself that was the truth of the matter and his spirits revived. He decided that he wouldn’t have to say anything. He would let things take their course. After all, it was sad but true that no one, not even his bunch of cronies, was going to grieve over Tod Walker. He looked across the table to where the twins were sitting next to each other, smiled at them hesitantly and then turned his attention to his supper.
‘I think Ginger saw what happened,’ Danny said later when the dormitory was silent. He had come to perch on Joe’s bed and he kept his voice low, so as not to risk waking anyone else.
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Well, think about it. He was the last home so he must have been behind us.’
‘Doesn’t mean he saw anything.’
‘What about the way he was looking at us at suppertime? Sort of worried and thoughtful. What was that about?’
‘You’re right. That was odd.’ Thoroughly alert now, Joe sat up.
‘Do you think he’ll say anything?’ Danny asked.
‘He would have said by now.’
‘Maybe not to the teachers, but when the police come. He wouldn’t want to lie to them, would he?’
‘I’m not sure. He’s been a pal, remember.’
‘Yes,’ Danny said. ‘But can we count on that? After all, this is serious.’
They both sat silently for a while, taking in the gravity of the situation. The enormity of what had happened. Nothing in their young lives had prepared them for this. Instinctively they drew together, each wanting to protect the other.
Then Joe said, ‘I think it’s time to go.’
‘Where? To Helen?’
‘First place they’ll look. Besides, Aunt Jane would turn us in.’
‘Helen will worry.’
‘We’ll have to send word somehow.’
‘But we can’t tell her what happened.’
‘No.’ Joe sounded grim.
‘We can’t ever go home, can we?’ Danny said bleakly.
‘We haven’t got a home. But no, we can’t.’
‘What will we do?’
‘I’ll think of something. And remember, Danny. Whatever happens, I’ll always look after you.’
When Hugh came home the house was in uproar. Servants hurried up and down the stairs and there was already a pile of luggage in the hall. He found Selma emptying the contents of her wardrobes on to her bed.
‘What’s happening?’ he asked. ‘Are we going somewhere?’
‘Of course we are. We can’t stay here.’
‘Why ever not?’
‘You saw the letter. You know what’s happened.’ She stopped what she was doing and faced him angrily. ‘And you didn’t even tell me. You just went to the office and left it for me to find and read by myself.’
‘I went out early. I didn’t want to disturb you. And besides, it’s sad but there’s nothing we can do.’
‘About the wretched boys, no. They’ve run away from the best chance life gave them like ungrateful little guttersnipes. But it’s not them I’m worried about.’
‘What then?’
‘The girl, of course. Their elder sister, Helen.’
‘But why? What has she done?’
‘Hugh! Did you actually read this letter?’ Selma picked it up from her dressing table.
‘Yes.’
‘And also the letter that came with the belongings they left behind?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘If you had you would know why we are leaving.’
‘Let me see.’
Hugh sat down on the chair by the dressing table and read the letter that Selma thrust in his hand.
‘So?’ Selma said. ‘Do you see what she told them?’
‘She told them a lot of things.’
‘Including the fact that she came here to spy on us.’
‘That’s a bit strong. She probably just wanted to see if her little sister was all right. That’s natural, isn’t it?’
‘I told her aunt there must be no contact whatsoever.’
‘And at the time I thought that was a little harsh. I mean, why stop them seeing each other?’
‘Because Elise has settled in so well here and I want her to forget about her former life completely. I want her to become our daughter – think how unsettling it would be for her to have all those memories dragged up.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘I’m sure of it. So that’s why we’re going to London.’
Hugh turned to look in the mirrors of the dressing-table. The reflection of his wife moved about the room feverishly. It crossed his mind that she looked almost demented.
‘Selma, sit down a minute,’ he said.
She stopped and looked at him impatiently. ‘Why?’
‘What you propose to do . . .’ he gestured towards the heap of clothes on the bed, the tumble of shoes and handbags on the floor, ‘. . . all this is a little drastic, isn’t it?’
She frowned, lost in thought, and then gave him her full attention. ‘You’re right, Hugh, darling,’ she said and for a moment he thought sanity had returned. She smiled. ‘Why on earth should I bother to take any but my favourites? I can buy whatever I want in London both for me and for Elise.’
Hugh’s spirits sank again. ‘I didn’t mean that. I mean this running away business. It isn’t sa—I mean it isn’t sensible.’ He had almost said ‘sane’. ‘Just go and see the children’s aunt.’
‘I intend to.’
‘Go and see her and tell her what has happened and that she must make sure that Helen doesn’t come near our house again.’
Selma shook her head. ‘That won’t do.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I don’t trust her.’
‘Mrs Roberts?’
‘No, the girl. She didn’t want me to take Elise, that was quite obvious, and didn’t you read what she said in her letter?’
‘That she’d keep an eye on things?’
‘How dare she! But worse than that, she’s promised the boys that one day they will all be together again. Oh, Hugh, don’t you see? She intends to take Elise away from us!’
Selma suddenly collapsed on top of the pile of clothes on the bed and, heedless of the fact that the garment she sat next to was pure silk, she lifted up the sleeve and tried to stem her tears. Hugh was truly alarmed. He had accepted that his young wife was devoted to the child and he had been both pleased and amused when she encouraged him to enjoy the role of father. But this was more than devotion, it was obsession. He must face the prospect that Selma was mentally ill – or dangerously near to it.
He got up and went over to the bed, then sat beside her, taking her in his arms. She turned towards him and wept in earnest. He waited until her anguished sobs subsided then said gently, ‘Of course, my pet, you are right; we must go to live in London.’
She moved away from him and looked up through brimming tears. ‘And you will come with us?’
‘Of course. Why shouldn’t I?’
‘You like living here. And there’s the wretched office.’
He smiled at her. ‘I admit I am very firmly attached to my roots in the North Country, but I am even more attached to you, and as for the office, I can assure you that the premises in London are just as suitable for me to run the business from. In fact the board of directors would prefer it.’
‘Good.’ Like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis, Selma cast off her misery. She looked around at the chaos she had created. ‘Oh, dear, I’ve been very silly, haven’t I?’
‘I wouldn’t dream of saying such a thing.’
‘Of course you wouldn’t. But I have. And now that everything is agreed between us I must go about this in a more organized way.’
Like a good child, Selma began to fold her clothes and hang them away again.
‘Leave that, darling,’ Hugh said. ‘You don’t have to do that. Isn’t it time you popped along to the nursery to see if Elise has had her supper?’
‘Goodness – yes! She’ll be waiting for her bedtime story.’
Selma darted out of the room without a backward glance, leaving Hugh feeling very anxious indeed. He accepted that he was so in love with her that he would do anything in his power to make her happy, but in agreeing that they should take this child in the first place had he unwittingly led them into dangerous waters?
The years of longing for and failing to conceive a child might have seriously affected her already fragile personality. They would go to London, it was the only way to calm her, but he would have to see Charles Harris before they left. Although he would not tell Selma.
Ignoring Selma’s rule that he must not smoke in the bedroom, he took a cigarette from his case, lit up and took a long drag from it. When he exhaled he stared glumly through the bluish smoke. There was a question that had been haunting him from the moment Elise had come into their lives, darling Elise, whom he had found no difficulty in giving his heart to. She gave every indication of being happy with them, but what would happen if in years to come, when she was old enough to understand what had happened, she found out that it was their car that had run down and killed her mother?
At first Jane Roberts felt pleased and honoured when Eva announced that there was a Mrs Partington at the door. ‘Well, show her in here, girl. You mustn’t keep a lady like that waiting on the step.’
In the short interval before Mrs Partington swept into the room, Helen’s aunt hurried to the window, edged the lace curtain aside and looked with satisfaction at the expensive motor car parked in the street outside her house. She hoped earnestly that the neighbours were watching.
‘In here, madam,’ she heard Eva say.
She moved away from the window quickly. ‘Mrs Partington,’ she said, ‘how nice of you to call.’
Her guest didn’t respond but simply regarded her coldly.
‘Erm . . . Can I offer you a cup of tea?’
‘No. And for goodness’ sake tell the girl to leave us.’
Eva was standing in the doorway, wide-eyed as she regarded the slim, elegantly dressed woman who was, she had just decided, the most beautiful creature she had ever seen – even if she did have a temper on her. For Eva had realized, even if it had not dawned on the missus yet, that this woman was wound up tight with fury.
‘Off you go, Eva,’ Jane Roberts said. ‘I’ll – erm – I’ll ring if you are needed.’
Reluctantly the maid withdrew.
‘Well, what have you to say for yourself?’ Mrs Partington said as soon as the door clicked shut.
‘Say for myself? I’m not sure what you mean.’
Selma Partington glared at her. ‘The boys – those wretched twins. Surely you know they have run away?’
Jane Roberts experienced what people called a sinking feeling. Something had gone terribly wrong and she sensed that there was more to come. Suddenly her breath caught in her throat. She stumbled towards an armchair and sank down. With great effort she remembered her manners and waved vaguely towards the other chair. ‘Forgive me,’ she said. ‘Won’t you sit?’
‘I prefer to stand.’
That was a pity. It meant that Jane had to crane her neck and look up at the terrifying woman who was standing over her. ‘What have they done?’ she asked and when Mrs Partington simply scowled at her she said, ‘The boys, what have they done?’
‘I’ve told you. They’ve run away from Haven House.’
‘Nobody told me. But why? Have they . . . have they done something wrong? Have they stolen something?’ She shrank into herself when she saw that Mrs Partington was growing even angrier.
‘I have no idea why they ran away. As far as I know, they have committed no crime or we would have been told. It’s what they left at Haven House that is important.’
‘Left?’
‘Apparently they went in such a hurry that they left everything behind them. When their lockers were searched this letter was found.’ Mrs Partington opened her handbag, took out a letter and handed it over. ‘Read it.’
‘Yes – thank you – but you’re, erm . . . standing in my light.’
To Jane’s enormous relief her visitor at last sat down in the chair opposite to her, but Mrs Partington never took her gaze from her as she fumbled with the envelope and began to read the letter. She saw her own address on the first page. ‘But I didn’t . . .’ she began.
‘Turn to the last page. Look at the signature.’
‘It’s from Helen,’ Jane Roberts said. ‘I didn’t know she’d written to them. Is that why you’re angry?’
‘Read it.’
It didn’t take her long to realize why Mrs Partington was so angry. ‘She came to your house,’ she said.
‘I told you specifically that there was to be no contact.’
‘I know. I agreed. I hope you don’t think I put her up to it.’
‘Actually I don’t.’
Jane Roberts breathed a sigh of relief but the respite was shortlived.
‘But nevertheless I hold you responsible. She actually told her brothers that she would continue to “keep an eye on things” as she put it.’
‘I’m sorry. I’ll see to it that it doesn’t happen again.’
‘It’s no use. You obviously can’t control the girl. Our arrangement must come to an end.’
Ginger faced Mr Ridley, Mr Jenkins and a large policeman in uniform in the headmaster’s study. He had been the last to be called. That was because he had been the last to sign in after the run. He knew from the gossip that no one else had any idea what had happened and he had his story ready.
‘So you’re absolutely sure you saw nothing?’ the policeman asked.
‘No, sir. Well . . .’ he hesitated as he had planned.
‘Well?’ Mr Jenkins asked impatiently.
‘I did see Tod Walker ahead of me. Then I didn’t.’
‘Make sense, boy!’
‘The mist was coming and going. At one point he was there. The mist came in. I stopped – and when the mist cleared again he wasn’t there. I thought he must have gone on while I was coughing.’
‘Coughing?’
‘Yes, sir. You know I have a bad chest.’
‘And you saw no one else?’
‘No one, sir. Tod and me are usually the last home. I thought he’d beaten me to it this time.’
‘What about the Norton boys?’
‘The twins? Oh, they’re pretty fit. They would be among the first home.’ Well, what he said hadn’t been a lie, he thought, and they didn’t seem to realize that he hadn’t really answered the question. And then he wondered again which twin it had been whom he had seen scuffling with Tod Walker, and how they had arranged to sign in. Probably whoever got home first had signed for both of them. Knowing those two that would have been easy enough to arrange.
‘And what did you think when you realized he hadn’t returned?’ the policeman asked.
‘Who?’
‘Tod Walker, of course,’ Mr Jenkins barked.
‘I didn’t think anything. I mean, I just didn’t know, did I?’
Ginger put on what he hoped was a gormless look and was rewarded with an impatient shake of the head by Mr Jenkins and a weary sigh from Mr Ridley. The policeman closed his notebook and said, ‘Well, I think that’s about it. You can go now, lad.’
‘An accident, then?’ Mr Ridley said to Mr Jenkins after the policeman had gone.
‘It seems so.’
‘We will still attract censure.’
‘Why?’
‘We shouldn’t have sent them out in such conditions.’
‘No.’
‘And the Norton boys?’
‘Runaways. It happens. They didn’t realize how lucky they were. Good riddance to them.’
Mr Ridley didn’t reply. He was thinking about the sum of money that Hugh Partington would no longer contribute. He eyed his assistant headmaster thoughtfully. He knew himself to be totally unfitted to run such an establishment as Haven House and he wondered if it was time to find someone more dedicated than Jenkins to be his deputy. It probably was.
‘You stupid, stupid girl! What were you thinking of?’
Aunt Jane had stormed into the kitchen, taken hold of Helen’s arm and dragged her from her chair and then across the hall into the front parlour. She slammed the door behind them and turned to face Helen, breathing heavily.
‘What is it? What’s the matter?’ Helen rubbed her arm and stared at her aunt in alarm. The broken veins on her face had purpled and her eyes were almost popping from their sockets.
‘I’ve just had a visit from Mrs Partington.’
‘I know. Eva told me.’
‘And why do you think she came here? Why do you think a great lady like her bothered to come to my little home?’
‘I . . . I don’t know.’
‘You went to visit your sister. That’s why. Even though you were told not to. Ever.’
‘I didn’t visit her. I just went to . . . to have a look at where she was living.’
‘Nevertheless you saw her.’
‘I didn’t speak to her. She didn’t see me.’
Aunt Jane suddenly clutched at her throat. She began to gasp and Helen thought she saw a flicker of fear in her eyes, but after a moment her aunt’s breathing eased and the fury returned.
‘But you would have done eventually. You told your brothers in your letter. That’s how the Partingtons knew you’d been there.’
‘My brothers? Letter?’ Helen was confused. ‘How do you know about the letter?’
‘Because the ungrateful brats have run away, that’s how, and they left most of their things behind them. Well, they needn’t think they can turn up here, that’s all I can say. And as for you, you needn’t think you’re going back to school. I should put you out. That’s what you deserve. But I’ve decided it’s time you made yourself useful around here.’
