A Whisper of Life Read online

  ‘Why should I want to do that? None of you wanted me, not just Mother.’ Kate couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  ‘Yeh, I admit that.’ Sidney looked away, as if ashamed. ‘But it was Mother always nagging at us that made us jumpy and argumentative. We men hate to admit it but we was all scared of her.’

  ‘There’s no excuse for the way you treated me…’ She was stung to fury, still doubtful of his intentions. ‘You enjoyed taunting me, hurting me, and you enjoyed telling me I was no longer wanted. Why have you really come? It has to be money. There can be no other reason why you’d bother to come here. You’re after money, aren’t you?’ She started walking again.

  Sidney was surprised at how much she had changed from the frightened girl who had begged him not to leave her behind in Hennaford. He would have to be careful. It would be worth it if he could convince her he wanted to play happy families. She was well set up here, she could be pumped for a few quid every now and then and he had just the right ploy. He walked along beside her, hands in his pockets. ‘Yeh, I admit it, I did enjoy it. I’m a bit of a hard case, don’t s’pose I’ll ever change my ways altogether. Father and Tony were just weak, would do anything for a quiet life. It was Mother who made me so shirty. She’d have put two stones to fight. I’m glad you never went that way, Kate. I’ll also admit we’re finding it hard to meet the funeral expenses. But the main reason I’m here is because of Delia. You and her got along all right. She’s lonely. Her family has disowned her because I got her into trouble and she hasn’t really got any friends. She’s scared about having the baby, not long to go now before the birth, and she’s got no woman to give her advice and help her out afterwards. She keeps saying if only Kate was still here. Now I’m not suggesting you move back in, of course. I just thought you might like to see Delia and the baby. After all, it’ll be your niece or nephew. What do you say, Kate? Can you help us out with the funeral money and would you like to see Delia?’

  There was no way that she would ever trust Sidney. He was rotten to the roots of his soul. But she had been friendly with Delia and the baby was just an innocent little soul. She felt a stirring of interest in her niece or nephew. Yet it was probably unwise to keep in touch with her family. She had to test Sidney’s motives. ‘Can I think about it?’ She expected him to fly into a temper or to try further cajoling. He had always hated not getting his own way at once.

  ‘Yeh, you do that. Thanks for listening to me, Kate. Write to Delia, will you? Tell her what you decide. She’d really like to hear from you. P’raps you’d like to come over one Sunday for tea.’ He peered round the yard. No one was about. He was glad of that. He could get off without a confrontation with one or more of Kate’s mentors that would perhaps lose him the ground he hoped he’d gained with her. ‘I’d better be off. Will that boy give you any more trouble?’ Kate could hardly believe his placid attitude, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t up to something. She had to think about all this but first she wanted him out of the way before he was seen. ‘No, I shouldn’t think after what you did to Denny he’d dare show his face here again. Give my regards to Delia. Goodbye, Sidney.’ She was praying he’d just leave.

  ‘Bye, Kate. I’m sorry about the past.’

  He strode away, head up in his usual conceited manner. ‘Sorry, my foot,’ she muttered. She crept after him, keeping out of sight to make sure he really did leave. In the lane, he lit up a smoke and got on his bicycle, which he’d left propped against the hedge. Would he scowl and go off in a mood? He went off whistling cheerfully, by way of the back lanes. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be seen by Tom or anyone else about the property.

  Kate trudged back. The ordeal with Denny suddenly taking its toll, and not wanting Jill to see her trembling and flushed, she sat on the bottom step of the goat house. It wasn’t wise to stay here on cold wet stone in the steady drizzle. Jill would fuss she’d catch a chill, but she had to clear her thoughts before she went in. She bent her head and brought her hands up to her face. Sidney’s timely appearance had saved her from a further struggle with Denny, but why did he have to show up at all? She had hoped to put her family behind her for good. She had no love for her brothers or father and never would have, and who could blame her? But she felt sorry for Delia and couldn’t bring herself to dismiss the baby. She knew how it felt to be rejected. Even if conditions were better at Tregony, poor Delia and the baby couldn’t look forward to having much of a life. What should she do? Write to Delia? Send some money towards her mother’s funeral costs? Did she have a moral obligation to help her family? It would almost certainly open up the way to more money being scrounged off her. She could ignore Sidney’s visit and do nothing and hope no one would get in touch again. But what about the poor baby? It was her own flesh and blood. It didn’t deserve to be rejected by an aunt who was in better circumstances. She had her grandmother’s secret savings and parting with a little of it would cause her no hardship, while it would mean a lot to Delia and the baby.

  If Jonny was here she would ask his advice, but she already knew what she would do. She couldn’t ignore Delia and the baby. She would tell Jill that Sidney had been here and how he had hurt Denny. And she would have to mention what Denny had done to her. She didn’t believe he was trying to rape her, just to hurt and humiliate her. He had definitely lost his job and could be charged with assault. She didn’t want that. She would feel the shame, as if it was her fault, and wouldn’t be able to face the villagers again, or Alan. She’d hate to forsake her friendship with Alan. Oh God, this had been such a nice day, now it was completely tainted. Thoughts about her mother’s death crowded in on her. In her mind she heard her mother screaming. Not because of her accident but at herself throughout her life, as her mother had always done, angry and hateful, shouting and abusing her. She’d had no right to treat her like that. She had been her mother. Mothers were supposed to love and care for their children, not use them like despised worthless slaves.

  Then she saw herself back in her grandmother’s cottage and Granny Moses was shouting and bawling at her on the day she had died. ‘Stupid girl! This soup is scalding hot. I’ve burnt my mouth. Why didn’t you warn me? You’re worse than useless. Just like your mother. Neither of you care about me.’ Granny Moses banged her soup spoon on the table, again and again. Each time Kate winced and blinked. The soup wasn’t too hot, the old woman was complaining again for nothing, just to be beastly, to make her feel small. Her stomach wound itself into knots and she couldn’t eat herself, just watch Granny Moses shovel in mouthful after mouthful of soup while stuffing in bread at the same time.

  Then Granny Moses was dropping her spoon and clutching at her throat and banging on her chest. Gesticulating wildly with her hands. Kate watched as if seeing it in a dream. Granny Moses was making dreadful noises and trying to spit at her. She was trying to retch, to spit out her food as if accusing Kate of poisoning her. Her face was changing from red to puce to purple. Kate was fascinated with the colours. Fascinated that Granny Moses was actually afraid. And seemingly pleading with her instead of barracking her. With her fingers clawing her throat, Granny Moses thrust back her chair with her legs and shot up, twisting and turning as she came at her. She was like a grotesque monster, terrifying and evil. Kate sprang up and backed away. Granny Moses was going to hurt her. Take her hands from her own throat and put them round hers. Choke the life out of her. Kill her.

  Granny Moses was falling, thumping down to the floor, twisting and contorting, her legs thrashing about, her face dark with corruption, her eyes bulging as if about to pop out of their sockets. She stiffened, jerked and became still, her hands flopped down from her throat. In her insanity she had killed herself. It said in the Bible that the wicked would die at their own hands and that was exactly what had happened to Granny Moses.

  Long moments passed before Kate realized that her grandmother had been choking to death on too much food and had been pleading for her help. Appalled at how she had shrunk back and left her to battle, terri
fied, on her own, she edged towards the lump of a body to see if Granny Moses was breathing, then recoiled at the gruesome sight of her misshapen features and clawed hands.

  Huddling on the steps of the goat house Kate experienced again every vile shudder of horror and disgust with herself she had felt at the time. She knew that her mind, unable to cope with the terrible truth, had pushed it into a darkly veiled corner, making her forget she had watched the revolting scene without lifting a finger, had even retreated from her grandmother. She had screamed, ‘I’ll get someone, Granny!’ and had fled from the house shouting for help.

  Now she knew the source of her nightmares, the reality that had been trying to break through. Oh, God in heaven, it made her a murderer! She could hear her grandmother’s accusing voice. ‘Murderer. Murderer!’ She clamped her hands over her ears and rocked, trying to rid herself of the mocking sound. She took her hands away. There were no voices, except for the usual animal and bird life braying and twittering on the farm. She couldn’t stand what she had done, watching and waiting for Granny Moses to die. She sprang up and ran, awkwardly with her limp, stumbling and righting herself, out into the lane and down the hill. She had to get away. She couldn’t stay with the kind people who had taken her in when she wasn’t the good person they thought she was but a cold-hearted murderer.

  Alan had bought a second-hand motor car, a pre-war Morris 8, and had driven it home from the buyer’s house at Perranporth. Proud he had saved the purchase price himself, it would give him a reason to go on the extra yards to Ford Farm and show it to Kate. If she agreed to take a ride with him some time, it was just the thing to get her away from the Harveys’ ever-watchful eyes, to give him the chance to build up something closer and meaningful with her. It was what he wanted above all else. He was crazy about her. Things were easier now Jonny Harvey had taken himself off. He had been strangely possessive of Kate. Jill and Tom hadn’t seemed to notice his inappropriate behaviour towards her. Alan had been about to have a quiet word with Tom and if necessary he would have challenged Harvey. Harvey had better watch out if he started anything of the kind when he got back. He should know better. It was bad form, a gigolo hanging about an inexperienced girl. He wasn’t Kate’s type nor she his, surely he must know that. Mind you, it was all too easy to fall in love with Kate. He had himself. He wasn’t as religious as his mother but he prayed morning and night that the day would soon dawn when she’d return his feelings. He’d wait and hope no matter how long it took.

  Kate was hurrying down the hill. It was the wrong direction. She was heading towards the village, and the other way led to Ford House and Keresyk where there was too much of a risk of her being seen. An unfamiliar motor car was crossing the ford. Oh no! It pulled in to the grass verge and someone got out. Through the haze of tears stinging her eyes she made out a man waving to her. This was the last thing she wanted and she veered off for the nearest field. She clambered over the gate, then as best she could squelched through rows of cauliflowers, the wet earth clogging her boots. She slipped and plummeted to her knees, scrabbled to her feet and went on. She was making for the moors, to hide among the scrubby bushes and willow and gorse. It was the only thing in her head, to get away and be alone.

  Someone was calling to her but all she could hear was the wind in her ears. She was caught from behind. She was struggling to get away from someone a second time and in her horror and panic she screamed and screamed. ‘Let me go! Let me go!’

  ‘Kate! It’s all right. I want to help you.’

  It was a deep caring voice. ‘Jonny!’ She went limp. Only he could help her now. She let him turn her round and hold her against him, feeling the shelter of his strong arms.

  ‘It’s me, Alan. I was coming to see you to show you my new car. Kate, what’s the matter? Why are you running off like this? You can trust me. Whatever’s wrong, please let me help you.’

  She was disappointed that it wasn’t Jonny but Alan was just as trustworthy and understanding. She went quiet and rigid, letting him support her.

  ‘I’ll take you home,’ he said.

  ‘No! Please not there. I don’t want Jill to see me like this.’

  ‘OK. We’ll stay here, or I could take you somewhere in the car.’

  ‘No. I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t know what to do,’ she wailed.

  Alan took off his coat and cloaked it round her shoulders. He was frightened for her. What had happened to bring her to this? ‘Kate, it’s all right. We’ll stay here for as long as you like. Tell me why you’re so upset. You need to tell someone. I promise it won’t go any further.’

  She had to tell someone or she’d go mad. ‘I’ve done something terrible, Alan,’ she blurted out with a gulping sob.

  ‘I’m sure you haven’t, Kate. You couldn’t possibly do any such thing. But tell me what you mean.’

  ‘I – I killed my grandmother. There, I’ve said it. You’ll think me terrible now.’

  ‘I’d never think badly of you,’ he soothed. ‘It wasn’t your fault the old lady choked to death, Kate. There’s no need to blame yourself. There was nothing you could do.’

  ‘But you don’t understand.’ She looked up at him from desperate eyes. ‘She was choking and at first I just sat at the table watching, then I jumped up and backed away from her. I did nothing to help her, Alan. She was dying and I just let it happen. I killed her.’

  ‘But you didn’t kill her. Think about it, really think about it, Kate. What was going through your head at the time?’

  ‘I thought it was a dream. I was scared. I was scared of her. I thought she was coming after me. I forgot all about it until a short time ago, after my brother turned up to tell me my mother had died and it all came flooding back.’

  ‘There you are then. You didn’t wish her dead while she was choking, did you? You’re not like that, Kate. You’re good and kind and wonderful. Your grandmother treated you like a slave yet you kept your patience and did all you could for her. You didn’t kill her, Kate, my love. You didn’t even hurt her. I read the coroner’s report in the Western Morning News. She choked on a large mouthful of food. It was wedged in her throat. Even if a doctor had been there he couldn’t have saved her. You’ve done nothing wrong. You don’t need to punish yourself with these guilty feelings.’

  ‘But I could have tried to do something to save her, Alan.’

  ‘You were in shock and you were scared. No one could have done anything when they’re like that. It was your grandmother’s time to die. It’s as simple as that. It gave you the chance of a new life. Don’t let old memories ruin it for you. Jill and Tom would hate that.’ The horror seemed to be leaving her, although doubt was filling her beautiful eyes. It would take a while longer to convince herself she wasn’t to blame for the tragedy. ‘I’m sorry you’ve suffered again, Kate, and sorry about your mother. You’ve had an awful time. Can I take you home now? Jill will understand everything. She’ll say exactly the same as I have.’

  She nodded. Her home and security was what she wanted now. Thanks to Alan she was ready to go. She pushed her arm through his, needing his help to trudge back through the field and needing him near. ‘There’s something else.’

  ‘What’s that?’ he said gently.

  She told him about Denny grabbing her and how Sidney had beaten him.

  ‘Oh, Kate, that’s terrible.’ He put a hand over her hand, making a mental note to have more than a few choice words with Denny James. ‘You didn’t deserve any of this. Don’t worry, I’ll help you through it.’

  ‘Thanks, Alan.’ Her confidence crushed, she was glad he was with her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Alan enclosed Kate’s hand in his. ‘You’ll be fine, Kate. You can do this,’ he whispered. The play was in progress. A castle scene had finished and the scenery was swiftly being changed for the market scene. ‘There will be lots of us on stage together.’

  Her ‘big’ moment had nearly arrived and she was trembling a little. She squeezed back on his wa
rm flesh, trying to ignore the jitters in her tummy. Her peasant’s costume covered her feet but she wasn’t too bothered about her limp. Alan had persuaded her not to duck out of the play. ‘Don’t let them win, Kate,’ he’d said. ‘Your family, or Denny. They’re not worth it and you are worth so much more. Believe it, believe in yourself. All of us who care about you do.’ It had taken an effort for her to reach this point, but here she was, thanks to Alan. She wouldn’t allow the past to keep its cruel grip on her life any more. Jonny would have said, ‘You have a future. Reach for it.’

  ‘Jill and Tom will be proud of you,’ Alan said. ‘I’m proud of you, Kate.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’ll steal the show.’

  ‘No, I won’t,’ she laughed softly. ‘You have already and no one deserves it more.’

  A minute later she was facing the seated villagers, with a laden straw basket on her hip. ‘Butter and cheese! The very finest!’ She’d done it, got her lines out. It was so much easier to repeat them and wander about, helping to make the scene look busy. Alan had been right, once her nerves had settled she got a wonderful high feeling, as if she could do anything in the world. She was eager to return to the stage when it was time for the archery scene.

  At the final curtain call, to thunderous applause, Mr Trevean shouted out, ‘Well done, Kate! Good to see ’ee up there.’ Mr Trevean couldn’t have heard very much of the play, but it meant everything to her to receive his good wishes. Many others congratulated her that night. She was a full member of the village now.

  * * *

  Dear Jonny,

  I hope you are well. Thanks for your message to me on Tom and Jill’s postcard. I’m glad you’re enjoying taking photos of those big lakes and hills.

  It sounds really nice there. I go out riding a lot on Cully. The play went off well. I actually took a small part in it. I was so nervous at first but I really enjoyed it. It’s a pity you missed it. Anyway, you will be back for the wedding. It will be nice to see you again.