A Whisper of Life Read online

  The horror and disappointment she had endured then assailed her again. She had no voice to shout and screams emerged only as a rusty croak, burning her throat. The other thing she had tried and failed at was to break down the door. She had wrapped the musty soiled bedcovers round her feet, and lying on the floor she had tried to kick it in. The wood had refused to give. Had she banged on the walls to get attention? She couldn’t remember. The sickness and dizziness was coming on her again but she must try before she passed out again. She might not come to for hours. She might not wake up at all. Panic made her drag herself to the nearest wall, pulling the bedcovers with her. She couldn’t recall the layout of the house and hoped it was a connecting wall to the one next door.

  Wrapping the covers round her hand she banged on the wall, counting to six before exhaustion stopped her. She listened. ‘Please. Please!’ she rasped. There was nothing. Fear mingled with determination and she battered on the wall with every dreg of energy she could summon. ‘Somebody! Help me!’ she croaked, but screaming inside, desperation eating her away, threatening to consume her, to send her crazed and unfit to carry on, to plunge her into ever greater peril.

  She listened. Oh, why wasn’t anyone there? Please! Please God, please! Her ears hurt. There was a hammering in her head. Then her mind cleared and she thought she heard something. Thud, thud. Yes! Surely that was an answering thud, thud. She hauled up her feeble arms and thumped two bangs. She cried out in wild elation when she got back the same tattoo again. It might be the neighbour banging back in anger. If she kept it up surely someone would come round to complain. If only she knew how to tap out SOS in Morse code and let the respondent know someone was in mortal danger. She banged three times, paused, then did it again, hoping the neighbour would realize it was a message, a plea for help. She listened again, and received three thuds in return. She started a rhythm and got back the same number of thuds each time. It went on for some time. She grew anxious. Was it a child thinking it was someone playing a game? ‘I’m in here, damn you! Come and get me out.’ Her hands were in agony but she bashed the wall with all her might, keeping it up until exhaustion grabbed her in its wilful clutches and she collapsed in a wretched heap.

  Sweating and panting, the room whirling, she could only huddle and try to control her breathing. Oh, please, please, whoever you are, do something. Send for the police. Tell them there’s something suspicious going on next door.

  There was silence. She had failed. She was shivering, shuddering, bitter cold to the bone. How was she going to survive the last of the day and through the night? She felt herself slipping away. She was losing her last fragment of strength. She was losing consciousness and would never wake up again. She would be found eventually, a mess of bones and desiccated flesh. If only she could leave her parents a note. Tell them she loved them. Tell them she was sorry. Against her will her eyes closed.

  A loud sound startled her, brought her round in a tremendous jolt. A terrified scream got trapped in her throat. Bangs and thuds, different sounds to those she had received from the other side of the wall. Someone was at the front door. She could hear a muffled voice. ‘Hello! Who is it? Who’s there?’ Her ploy had worked! Someone had come and was shouting through the letterbox. Somehow she must find the capacity to get to the bedroom door. She couldn’t risk the person going away, this might be her only chance. She had to make a lot of noise. Painfully slow, she crawled across the floor. Then, easing herself in position on her back, she kicked out and drummed her feet against the door for a second or two. Her feet fell like stones. She had used up the final drop of her resources. Her eyes closed. One last thought, she could only rely on fate.

  * * *

  ‘What are they doing here?’ Jonny eyed Alan and Martha Killigrew as they entered Tom and Jill’s sitting room, which was furnished in a fascinating marriage of remnants from the farm’s former days and some new but not modern pieces.

  ‘Jill and I thought Kate should have some more young people here for the evening,’ Tom said, gaily mixing punch, laced with a little alcohol. ‘Her tea party was a great success, this should round off the day perfectly for her. We’re going to play some music.’

  ‘So that’s why Denny is here. I thought he was gate crashing.’

  ‘Don’t be so grumpy. The occasion isn’t for family only. Friends being here will help to make up for Kate not having her own people.’

  ‘She won’t want to dance.’ It was unlikely Kate had ever danced owing to her slight disability, and Jonny couldn’t bear to think of her being made self-conscious by one of these callow youths insisting on her jiving. He had spent an idyllic afternoon with Kate. She had been happy and relaxed and he would ensure she’d stay that way. Nothing must spoil her day.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking. Jill and I are sensitive to the same thing. It will only be some soft background music. Mum has suggested we play charades. We’ll make up two teams. I doubt if Kate has been included in that sort of fun before.’

  ‘I’ll organize the teams.’ Jonny would see to it that he and Kate were on the same team and that he was sitting beside her.

  ‘No need. It will be men against women. Denny’s older sister should be arriving any minute. It will make up the numbers.’

  ‘Huh.’ Jonny mooched off. He went close to Kate, pretending to focus his camera on her for more photographs, but really to listen in on what Alan Killigrew was saying to her. Denny had been bashful while handing over to Kate a small parcel that contained a plaster ornament of a ginger cat, the sort won at a fair, and then he had ambled about the room uncertainly, obviously unused to this sort of gathering. But Killigrew was older, had more status, more experience with girls, and he was flourishing his present with a confident grin.

  ‘You look lovely, Kate. Really lovely. Congratulations. It’s an honour to be invited to your do.’ Alan would have been bitterly disappointed if he had not been included. He liked Kate, more than liked her. It was what kept him hoping to gain a date with her, to really get to know her and hope she’d like him too as more than a friend. He had no trouble attracting girls and had never been shy with them. There were lots of nice pretty girls about, but Kate was different to all of them, she was special. He wasn’t about to give up any chance he had with her. ‘This is for you. I hope you like it.’

  ‘Thank you, Alan,’ Kate said. She kept eye contact with him for a minute to be polite, but knowing Jonny was near she turned and smiled at him. She had so enjoyed the afternoon with him.

  ‘Open it then,’ Jonny encouraged her, stealing Alan’s moment.

  Alan made a wry face. Damn Harvey for getting in the way.

  Jonny was pleased with his vexation.

  Kate unwrapped the present. ‘Oh, it’s beautiful.’ She was delighted with the long tasselled silk scarf. ‘Jill, look at this. Mrs Em, see what Alan’s given me. It’s so soft and delicate.’

  ‘I’d decided what I’d get for you,’ Alan said, moving to look into her face in the hope of keeping her interest, ‘but I asked my mother to go to the shops to be sure it was exactly the right thing. The red and gold colours match your hair perfectly, Kate.’

  ‘It’s very thoughtful of you, Alan. Thank you.’

  ‘I’m thrilled you like it, Kate.’ He smiled a smile deep into her eyes. How he’d love to receive such a warm look in return. He was getting cross with Jonny Harvey for hanging about so close. The wretched chap wasn’t giving them breathing space.

  ‘It’s an excellent choice,’ Emilia said, noting Alan’s admiration for Kate. If Kate started walking out with someone Alan would be ideal. Tom and Perry would warn him to stay in line. Denny too was a nice boy. She felt sorry for him. It was easy to see he was feeling overdressed and gauche in his Sunday best suit, of poorer quality than Alan’s casual sports jacket. He had excluded himself from the crush of people around Kate and kept glancing at the door, probably hoping his sister would soon join them and he wouldn’t feel so much the odd one out. She went over to chat to him to put
him at ease.

  Jill gave Kate a hug. ‘You’ve had some wonderful presents today.’ The locket she and Tom had given her was shining round her neck. She was beautiful in her new dress, her hair richly waved.

  Jonny wanted to be uppermost in Kate’s mind. He took the scarf from her hand then swept it over her head and placed it round her shoulders. ‘It doesn’t go with your dress but it will give you an idea how it could look, Kate, darling.’

  Alan clenched his teeth. What the hell was Harvey up to? Damned bighead. It was Kate’s day. How dare he try to steal the scene?

  Tom gripped Jill’s arm and pulled her aside. ‘What was that all about? Jonny doing that?’

  ‘Everyone loves Kate,’ Jill said, proud of her protégé. ‘She touched Abbie’s heart too and she wanted to do a lot for her. I overreacted and ruined it. If I’d been calmer and not so possessive of Kate, Abbie might be here now. You know, we need to be careful not to overwhelm Kate, darling. It was what Abbie clumsily tried to tell me. We mustn’t put Kate in another prison by trying to run her life for her. She must be allowed to spread her wings and live her life her own way.’

  Tom nodded. ‘It’s hard not to want to protect her from every little knock. But you’re right, we must give Kate credit for being an intelligent and resourceful girl. After all, she’s survived so much. Don’t blame yourself about Abbie, darling. I’m sure she didn’t. I believe she went off because she had problems of her own to resolve.’

  Someone had let themselves in through the kitchen. ‘Ah, that must be Annie, Denny’s sister,’ Jill said. ‘We can start the game.’

  But it was Douglas Goodyear who came into the room. Jill and Tom froze. They assumed the worst about Abbie. What an awful time to come with the dreadful news.

  Emilia saw Douglas. Her heart lurched. He was never an easy man to read. Right now he looked serious. ‘What is it? Have you brought news?’

  The room fell silent. All eyes flew to Douglas. ‘Sorry to intrude,’ he said. ‘But I thought I’d come and tell you personally. Not long ago I had the pleasure of informing the Rothwells that Abbie has been found alive.’

  ‘Thank God!’ Emilia exclaimed. A cry of collective relief echoed round the room.

  ‘Where was she?’ Perry asked.

  ‘Well, that’s where the news isn’t as good. She’s in the infirmary, very poorly and on a drip for dehydration. Apparently she had been abducted from the railway station.’ He told the gathering where she had been taken and the appalling conditions she had been kept in. ‘She has many cuts and bruises from trying to escape. A few hours ago she managed to alert a neighbour. Not having seen the Mitchells – if that’s their real name – for a few days he was alarmed and went round and forced his way into the house. Of course, he called the police and an ambulance immediately. The police suspected it was Abbie, and as soon as they managed to talk to her and confirm it they phoned me at the hotel. It was a double relief for the Rothwells. They had just received a ransom letter demanding five thousand pounds, saying pay up, with no police involvement, or your daughter dies. It had been posted in Birmingham. The ransom was to be left at a railway station in Nottingham tomorrow. The Mitchells have tried to cover their tracks but the game is up for them now. Mr Rothwell is not up to the journey down, but Mrs Rothwell is travelling down on the train as we speak. The doctors say Abbie was found in the nick of time. She couldn’t have lasted much longer.’

  Emilia had her hands to her face. ‘Poor Abbie. Douglas, what time is Honor’s train due in? Perry and I will meet her.’

  Absorbing this news, and because her emotions had been running wonderfully high all day, Kate couldn’t prevent herself bursting into tears. Alan reached for her, but Jonny had made sure he was closer to her and he took her into his arms. ‘It’s all right, darling. Abbie’s safe and will soon get better.’

  ‘I know,’ Kate sobbed, pressing her face into his chest. ‘It’s the best present I could ever have had on my birthday.’

  And this is mine, Jonny thought, relishing the sweet sensations of cradling her, comforting her. Then it hit him like a gale force wind, why he had sought this so eagerly, why it meant so much to him. He had never thought it would happen to him but the impossible had occurred. He had fallen in love with Kate. And it wasn’t a good thing, it was wrong, horribly wrong. He was twice her age, old enough to be her father. He was worldly while she enjoyed a simple everyday life. He let her go and was shaken at how reluctant he was to do so. His arms felt empty, he was bereft not to have her close to him and at the same time horrified at the situation. He fumbled with his camera to obscure his confusion. He couldn’t let Kate know his true feelings. It would scare her. She might end up hating him. He hated himself at that moment for he knew he couldn’t help himself. He loved Kate with all his being and he didn’t have the strength to do the right thing. Which was to stay away from her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Denny was bringing out the thirty-strong Friesian herd from pasture for the short journey to the farm for evening milking. He had the aid of the sheepdog, which needed no orders to direct the cows in the right direction and put stragglers back in line. Having just acquired promotion to cowman, a task he was fully capable of, he had left Tom and the rest of the workers in the harvest fields, and he and the women would attend the milking parlour.

  To coincide with the new confidence endowed by his position, his body had bulked out in the last few weeks giving him an impressive build. He walked tall, with shoulders as true as a serviceman’s, and he had swapped his flat cap and sleeveless jerkin for a Western-style wide-brimmed hat and black waistcoat. To his mind, it gave him a touch of film-star dash, but it had evoked different reactions in others. While he was now coming under the notice of the local girls, and had even lost his virginity, older people were either amused, saying it was his way of growing up, or thought him a bighead or a fool. To the surprise of those at the farm, he had also become moody and remote, not given any more to chit-chat, whistling and innocent pranks. It wasn’t the natural progression to manhood. He was sometimes unfriendly. Only Emilia had an idea what was wrong with him but she said nothing, hoping instead that Denny would come round in good time.

  Kate met him at the gate, across from the field where she had first encountered Jill. ‘Hello, Denny. I’ve come to give you a hand.’ She had a stout stick in readiness to ward off any strays.

  ‘There’s no need. I can manage on my own with Dusty,’ he muttered, tossing his head in a dismissive manner, then securing the gate. He stared at Kate’s feet. ‘And you’d only slow us down.’

  Kate had felt that his surliness was directed mostly at her for some reason and she had come here to try once again to get back on good terms with him. Before, he had cut off her sentences or left her remarks unanswered, but this time he had chosen a direct insult. She hid her hurt but not her anger. ‘That was really nasty! Have I offended you or something? I thought we were friends but now you treat me like an enemy. What’s going on?’

  He stalked off, using his stick to prod the cows into line. He was ignoring her and she wasn’t going to tolerate his animosity any longer. She had to use fast, long steps to keep up with him. ‘Denny, for goodness sake, tell me what I’ve done!’

  He strode on, eyeing her sideways, his bottom lip curled in contempt. ‘Don’t talk to me as if I’m an underling. You carry on as if I’m not good enough for you but you come from a poorer background than I do.’

  ‘What are you talking about? When have I ever made you feel small?’ He refused to answer. She could only think of one reason for his attitude. ‘Is this because I haven’t gone out with you? That’s silly. I haven’t gone out with anyone. And you’re doing all right with the girls, apparently. I really don’t understand you.’

  ‘When have you made me feel small? You’re so full of your bloody self you don’t even know.’ Denny couldn’t forgive her over the way he’d felt she had shunned him at her birthday party. She had thanked him for his gift then seemed to
have immediately forgotten about the ornament, probably thinking it stupid and cheap. Yet she’d squealed like a piglet newly farrowed over Alan Killigrew’s expensive silk scarf. Then after the toff Goodyear had come with the news about the Rothwell woman, she’d thrown herself into Jonny Harvey’s arms and hung about the hoity swine or Killigrew all evening. She had wanted nothing more to do with him. He was unimportant, nothing to her. ‘You think you’re everyone’s darling. You lap it up when people feel sorry for you and fuss all over you. Your rotten grandmother was a selfish old bitch and you’re no better. You’re determined to sponge all you can out of the Harveys and Boswelds. But you’re nothing special, Kate Viant, and you never will be. You should keep that in mind. The bosses may treat you like you’re one of them, but you’re not and they’ll never forget it. If you’re aiming for a husband among their sort you’ll be out of luck. No rich man will want to marry a common little cripple, no matter how pretty and sweet you happen to be. And one more thing, watch out for Killigrew. He’s only after one thing. He’ll not want to marry you either.’

  The spitefulness in the tirade, so unfair and all lies, was exactly the sort of thing she’d got from her family, but in this there was biting bitterness too. Not wanting him to see her hurt, she strangled an angry sob in her throat and fell behind.

  He looked back, as if crowing over her, like he had won some victory. ‘Going to run to Mrs Jill now, are you? Tell her the rotten cowman’s upset you?’

  This was a ruse and she saw straight through it. There was high colour in his cheeks. He wasn’t so brazen and superior now. He was afraid. Afraid a report about his attempt to throw her down in the depths would get him the sack. He was jealous of her and he was pathetic. He had won nothing but her everlasting disrespect. She knew where she stood with those who had given her a home and new purpose. She had their trust and affection, and she had a good friendship with Alan and special closeness to Jonny that no amount of sour grapes could take away from her. The difference between the cowman and Jonny, who was helping with the harvesting today, was worlds wide.