Chapter 28
28
When you lose someone, it’s the little things that feel like a vicious kick to the gut. As Olivia cycled down the winding lanes of the flower-dotted Norfolk countryside and approached the ford, it was seeing the last of the bluebells that opened up a gaping chasm inside her. It seemed impossible to her that it was only a year ago, she’d walked down these roads, anxious and unsure, to meet Howard and decide what her feelings for him truly were.
She dismounted and rested the bike against the cold stone of the bridge and took a moment to recover from the sudden rush of memories. Closing her eyes, all she could see was his face as he lay beside her, the ridiculous flowers threaded through his hair, and him not minding a jot. She could almost smell the fustiness of the soil and feel the roughness of his khaki uniform as she’d nestled in his arms afterwards.
He had been so careful to ensure that she wouldn’t fall pregnant, but now she wished more than anything that they’d been careless. Had she fallen, even though it would have been out of wedlock, he would have left a proper legacy behind – a child. Something remaining in this world that proved he had once walked amongst them and he had been truly loved.
Olivia stood by the bridge for quite some time until she was able to move on, mentally and physically, wheeling the bike beside her as she walked into the village. She’d been to Merriford Lode a thousand times – to visit the shops, attend village events and sit in the church pews every Sunday – but never had reason to ask questions about the Tanner family before. The head gardener said they’d lived in a small cottage in Brick Lane, but that Tanner moved out to the bothy when he’d first been given the job at the manor. Would any of the neighbours even remember them?
An older woman was outside the end terrace whacking a row of small rugs strung over a line with a rattan carpet beater. She recognised Olivia immediately, well-dressed and attractive young ladies not being commonplace in such a small village.
‘Always felt sorry for them,’ she said, after Olivia had made her enquiry. ‘Nice people who minded their own business, but were there if you were ever in need. They didn’t deserve what happened. That poor lad had to deal with his sweetheart disappearing without a trace, and the sudden and violent death of his father, all within the space of a week.’
‘How long ago was this?’
‘Let me think… 1911. The year of the coronation.’
So, Tanner had been carrying all that heartache for a year when she’d first met him. No wonder he’d worn a permanent frown.
‘He went from a cheery soul to a broken lad in days. Pitiful to see, and his only salvation was that job of his – always did love nature. Remember him growing a few flowers in tins and old saucepans as a youngster in that dreary little backyard of theirs, and how happy he was when he got a job at the big house and could follow in his grandfather’s footsteps.’
Another pang of guilt shot through Olivia as she was yet again reminded how much Tanner had loved working in the manor gardens. The very fact her Seth (and she thought of him as such purely to differentiate between the two Seths she now felt certain existed) had chosen to come back to Merriford after the war was proof of this.
‘Who was the young girl he was sweet on?’
‘Annie Taylor. Nice enough, but her parents were devout church people and she had a tough upbringing.’ Olivia knew Mrs Taylor through church but hadn’t realised she’d had a daughter. The woman didn’t ever talk about her.
‘There was never going to be anyone good enough for their Annie. Even when the pair started stepping out, they were never left alone or allowed to go anywhere together. And then she broke it off without giving him a reason, but everyone knew she’d been seeing someone else. My Frank saw her creeping through the village in the dead of night on a couple of occasions, out towards Widow Larwood’s, but we never said nothing. Didn’t want her getting thrashed by that puritan father of hers.’
The widow’s house, Olivia knew, was a tumbledown building their side of the woods that had been unlived in since the old woman had died nearly twenty years ago. It was halfway between Merriford Lode and Merriford Manor. Often an overnight stop for tramps, it was also a shelter to several stray cats. Sir Hugo regularly complained about the travellers who occasionally pitched up in the Larwood fields and had once mentioned that the house had been left to a distant relative of the owner who had never bothered to claim it but did not want to sell. Consequently, it had stood empty all this time.
‘And then she disappeared. My Frank reckoned she met some traveller there and they got friendly – if you know what I mean.’ The old woman shook her head. ‘Must be eight or nine years back. There were a couple of possible sightings of her in Norwich and Yarmouth, but nothing was ever confirmed. And then a few days later, young Seth’s father died. Fancy watching your father practically burn alive and not be able to do a thing about it. The poor fellow’s coat caught when he was tending to a bonfire. In the scramble to remove it, he tumbled back into the flames. Dreadful, it was. He took three days to die.’
Olivia’s shock at this horrific detail was apparent across her face and her heart went out to Seth a little bit more.
‘Always said to Frank it was a blessing when the young lad was given the other job in Cambridgeshire. He could make a new start. His mother followed him down there a few weeks later. I miss her; she was a good neighbour and much more respectful than the mouthy lot who moved in after her. She couldn’t write much beyond her name though and Seth had no reason to keep in touch with anyone here, so I don’t know no more, unless you do?’
The older lady looked at her with hopeful eyes, but Olivia shook her head.
‘Did anyone ever hear from Annie Taylor again?’
The woman shrugged. ‘Not to my knowing, and even the traveller thing was a guess. Everyone had a theory. Some thought there was a babe and she’d run off with whoever had fathered it. Being the hellfire and brimstone sorts, her parents would have cast her out anyway. Mind you, I always think those brought up strict are the ones most likely to rebel.’
‘Did anyone else disappear around that time?’ Olivia asked.
The woman shook her head. ‘That’s why many think it was a traveller lad – someone passing through. But I always wondered if the chap responsible was already married and wealthy enough to set her up somewhere as his mistress. It happens.’ She shrugged as she gave the rug another almighty whack and stepped back from the erupting cloud of dust. ‘If you want to know more, you’d best speak to Freda. She was Annie’s friend and girls tell each other everything.’
‘Freda?’
‘Freda Howells. She’s one of your housemaids.’
Olivia hadn’t realised the connection, but decided when there was an appropriate opportunity, she’d quiz the girl. Armed with this new information, she thanked the woman and took her leave. At least she understood better now the reasons the Tanner of eight years ago was so cross with the world.