Chapter Five #2
‘A friend of Melissa Cartwright’s, you say? We were all saddened by her sudden decline.’ Sister Hendry didn’t blink, but the hardness in her face, which must have been habitual to have left such lines, softened fractionally.
‘I waved Missy off, that morning,’ Theo said.
‘And she was quite well. So, it is very difficult . . . Dr Anscombe explained that she worsened soon after that, and that that’s the way it may go, with injuries like hers, but .
. . I wanted to ask . . . if . . . whether something else could have happened? ’
‘Something else?’ Sister Hendry’s tone flattened. ‘Miss Hallewell, are you suggesting that some fault lies in the medical care she received here?’
Theo was dismayed by her frigid indignation. ‘Oh, no! No, not at all—’
‘Because, I assure you, she received the best possible care from the doctors and from my nurses.’
There was a soft knock at the door and Dr Anscombe appeared. His face lifted at seeing Theo, then fell again.
‘Miss Hallewell! I wasn’t expecting you. Are you well?’
‘The lass was just asking whether there was more we could have done to save Melissa Cartwright,’ Sister Hendry said.
‘Oh, no – I didn’t mean that at all! Only that .
. . with Kit accused of murder . . .’ Theo cast about desperately.
‘Mr Brownlea out at Hilltop Farm – he dropped dead the year before last. He wasn’t as young as Missy, but he wasn’t an old man.
Thirty, or thereabouts. Apoplexy, they said, when he’d been strong as an ox until that moment—’
‘Melissa didn’t suffer an apoplectic fit, she—’
‘But something else? Something that might make them see . . . Kit was not to blame?’
Dr Anscombe and Sister Hendry exchanged a look, then the doctor pulled up a chair and sat down, steepling his fingers. In his face she saw the echo of her own anguish.
‘My dear Miss Hallewell. I understand how difficult this is, but please believe that Melissa died of her head injury. There was no other cause. The pressure beneath her skull would have proved fatal within hours had I not attempted to relieve it. It . . . it may be that the strenuous walk from Hallewell caused the swelling within the skull to increase. We cannot know for sure.’
Theo’s throat ached. ‘Then, if Mama had let Peterson drive her after all—’
‘Please, do not seek ways to castigate yourselves. Nobody could have foreseen the consequences.’
Theo stared at the doctor’s hands. Broad, appealing hands, the nails clipped short and spotlessly clean, apart from a crescent of something dark beneath one little fingernail. Unsteadily, she got to her feet.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered miserably. ‘Good day to you.’
She walked a short way from the hospital and sat on a bench beneath a chestnut tree.
Kit was in a cell at the police station on Bell Street, a short walk back into town.
Theo knew if she went home again without even trying to see him she would hate herself even more, but at the same time she recoiled.
She took Abrecan’s coin from her pocket, studying its strange lettering as she turned it to the light.
Nobody had noticed it was missing. How frightened she had been about taking it; how riddled with pointless nerves.
She understood better, now, the scale of a thing worth worrying about.
She got up, and forced her feet towards Bell Street.
The station was built of brick, with stone window dressings, and might have been somebody’s unlovely home but for the large police lantern by the entrance.
Constable Pryce would not be there – he lived in a tied cottage in West End – which was good, since he was unlikely to be any help.
Theo would be seeing him later to give her sworn testimony, and was dreading it.
So desperate to say the right thing that she wasn’t sure what to say at all.
Some of Shaftesbury’s ten constables – the unmarried ones – had rooms at the police station; the rest, along with the sergeant and superintendent, lived nearby with their wives. Theo was in luck that day: the young constable minding the front desk was a sympathetic sort.
‘Be as quick as you can, miss,’ he said. ‘Sarge’ll be back from his lunch before long. Only don’t go riling the lad up, will you? He’s been nice and quiet a good few hours now.’
He took Theo through to the cells at the back of the building, and there, through a hatch in a metal door, she saw Kit.
He was lying on a mat on the concrete floor, with a covered bucket in the corner, a three-legged stool, a Bible, and nothing else.
Thick layers of shiny paint caked the walls. The cell smelled of urine and sweat.
‘Kit!’ she called softly. ‘It’s Theo.’
At the sound of her voice he struggled up and came rushing to the door. He was pale, and the little muscles in his face that ticked when he was upset were all doing so. His gaze roamed constantly, never resting for more than a second.
‘Have you come to take me home?’ he asked.
‘I wish I could, Kit,’ she said. ‘I do so wish I could! But not just yet.’
His mouth drooped. ‘Soon though? Swear?’
‘I swear.’
It was wrong to promise him, but perhaps there was a way. Somehow, she had to find a way.
‘Did you bring any supper?’ he asked. ‘Did you bring a cake?’
‘No. Sorry. I . . . I forgot.’
‘It’s cold in here. Mum said, “It’s summer, son,” but I said, “It’s still cold, Mum, there on the floor.”’
‘I believe you. She’ll bring you a blanket next time, I’m sure.’
‘Dad said, “Jump about a bit, son.” So I did that for a while.’
‘Are the policemen being kind to you, Kit?’
‘Constable Philpott brings me biscuits and tea.’
‘Does he? That’s nice. Was that Constable Philpott who came in with me just now?’
‘Yes. But I can only sleep in the daytime because of the ghost.’
‘The ghost?’
‘Yes. The ghost. Constable Hickey says there’s a ghost of a man who was hanged in here and he walks about at night-time, and if you fall asleep he steals your teeth.’
‘Well, Constable Hickey is a rotten liar. There were no men hanged here, and there are no ghosts, and even if there were they couldn’t steal your teeth because they’ve got no hands.’
‘Oh.’
‘That’s the truth, Kit. It’s perfectly safe to sleep at night.’
‘Do you promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘All right then. That’s good then. When can I go home?’
Theo swallowed. ‘Soon, Kit.’
‘Constable Hickey says I should confess my sins if I want to get into heaven when I’m dead, but I never meant to hurt Missy.’
‘Of course you didn’t! We all know that, and you mustn’t listen to Constable Hickey – he sounds like a troublemaker to me.’
‘Does he?’
‘Most definitely.’
‘All right. All right then, I won’t.’
There was a whistle from the front, and Constable Philpott jerked his head for Theo to go. She forced her arm between the bars.
‘Shake my hand, Kit,’ she said desperately.
He did as he was told. His skin was gritty with dirt, and very cold. She pressed Abrecan’s coin into his palm. ‘I’m so sorry about all of this, Kit. You’ll be home soon.’
Kit looked down at the coin, puzzled.
‘Put it in your pocket, Kit – quickly! It’s Lord Abrecan’s coin. Remember? It will keep you safe – no ghosts or anything like that can bother you while you’ve got it.’
Relief washed over Kit’s face. ‘Lord Abrecan’s magic coin?’
Theo felt weak. ‘I’ll come again soon,’ she said.
And then wept all the way home.
Toby had been dithering in the front garden, annoying himself.
He wanted to talk to Timothy Crudge about the barrister at law, but didn’t want to go anywhere near the big house.
Then he saw Theo trudging up the hill. The gate clanged behind him as he set off towards her.
She looked up and her expression changed, but not to the joyful welcome of Midsummer’s Night.
He knew he would never see that again, but didn’t pause to decide how he felt about it.
Closer to, he spotted scraps of goosegrass caught on her skirt. He saw her red eyes and tear-streaked face, and the sad slump of her shoulders.
‘I’ve been to Shaftesbury,’ she said. ‘To the hospital. I tried to find out if . . . if it could’ve been something other than the bump on Missy’s head that . . . did it.’
Toby wondered why he hadn’t thought of that. ‘And?’
‘They said no. I tried my best to make them think of something, but—’
‘So, it’s all on Kit,’ Toby said.
Theo wiped her nose with a balled-up handkerchief. ‘Dr Anscombe said she died of the blow to her head, and nothing else.’
‘But perhaps we should ask a different doctor? Difficult, now she is buried. But I will speak to Mr Cornwallis.’
‘Is that the lawyer Uncle Crudge has—?’
‘Yes,’ Toby said stiffly.
Somehow, he’d hoped that the arrangement might be kept private. But no. Of course not. The Meriwethers had become news.
‘I . . . I went to see Kit, too,’ Theo said.
‘Good.’
Pressure was building in Toby’s head again, making it hard to think.
‘He was . . . fairly well,’ she said. ‘He was trying to sleep, because one of the officers had told him a ghost story that kept him awake all night – I talked him out of it, though. But he did keep asking when he could come home. Oh, Toby! It was awful!’ She started crying again.
‘It was awful for you?’ The words pushed their way out; he couldn’t hold them. ‘If it hadn’t been for your foolish game—’
Toby cut himself off.
Theo looked stricken. ‘Then you do blame me. Uncle Crudge told me you would not, but of course you do!’
‘If you hadn’t asked me to explain that symbol . . . if you hadn’t taken me away, so that I stopped watching him—’
‘I wish I could undo it all! I’m so very, very sorry . . .’ She hesitated, then said quietly: ‘Constable Pryce is coming to take my deposition later this afternoon.’
‘But you will stand witness for Kit, as well?’
‘My mother does not wish . . .’ Theo twisted uneasily. ‘The guests . . . she fears—’
‘The guests? What in God’s name have the wretched guests to do with anything?’