Chapter 70
Chapter Seventy
Lothersdale, North Yorkshire
The journey from Whitby to Lothersdale took over two and half hours.
A small village in the Craven district of North Yorkshire, Lothersdale had fewer than two hundred homes, none of which had mains gas or water.
This had the effect of limiting the amount of development potential over the years and had given the village an unspoilt atmosphere.
It almost felt like going back into the past, visiting Lothersdale, and that was exactly the kind of life Anthony Winstanley wanted.
He lived in a stone-built cottage with his mother and stepfather.
Pauline worked in the village shop four afternoons a week and Leo worked behind the bar in the pub every weeknight.
Occasionally, Anthony would go with him, sit at the bar while Leo was serving, have the odd glass of Coke and packet of crisps, and chat to the locals.
They all knew who Anthony was, and all about his past, but they never questioned him about it, and he never volunteered any information.
During the day, Leo and Anthony would take to the hills for long treks.
Sometimes they’d take Woody, Anthony’s guide dog, but it depended on the weather.
The two of them liked nothing more than wrapping up against the elements, throwing a flask and a few sandwiches into their backpacks and disappearing for the day.
They didn’t speak much. They didn’t have to. Occasionally, Anthony would reveal more about his time in prison, to unburden himself, and Leo would listen. It would never go any further than the two of them.
Today was a change from the norm. Today, they were to have a visitor to the cottage.
Jennifer Ripley was coming all the way from Whitby, and she was bringing the twins.
One of them was named after Anthony, which almost made him cry when he heard.
Jennifer had sent over photographs of them, but he was yet to see them in the flesh, so to speak.
They saw Jennifer’s Land Rover coming over the hill and Anthony went to the front door to welcome her, Woody by his side.
‘Someone looks happy,’ Jennifer said, climbing out of the car.
‘I’ve been really looking forward to this visit,’ he beamed.
‘So have I.’
Pauline and Leo came out of the house to help Jennifer get the twins’ car seats out of the back and take them into the house.
‘Kettle’s on,’ Pauline said. ‘We’ve baked as well. I hope you like carrot cake.’
‘It’s one of my favourites.’
‘Mine too,’ Anthony called out.
‘Come on, let’s get inside out of the cold.’
Before she went in, Jennifer looked back over her shoulder at the stunning view. She’d love to live somewhere like this. It wasn’t practical at present with the children so young. Maybe one day.
In the living room, Anthony cooed over the children while they slept in their car seats. When they woke and Jennifer had fed them, Anthony asked if he could hold baby Anthony.
‘I’m not sure about that,’ Pauline said.
‘Of course, you can,’ Jennifer said. ‘Sit down. Hold your arms out and rest his head in the crook of your elbow, that’s it,’ she said, placing the baby in his arm. ‘There you go. You’re a natural.’
‘He’s smiling at me,’ Anthony laughed.
All three stood back and watched as Anthony looked so happy, so content, with a child in his arms.
‘Can we take a photograph? Do you mind?’ Pauline asked.
‘That would be lovely,’ Jennifer said.
Pauline took a camera out of the sideboard and took a picture of Anthony on his own with the baby. Jennifer joined him for another. A third was taken with both Anthony and Jennifer holding a baby each. Then Jennifer took a picture of Anthony with Pauline and Leo with the babies.
‘I can’t wait to get these developed,’ said Pauline. ‘I’ll send you copies.’
‘I’d like that,’ said Jennifer.
‘So, Jennifer, what are you going to do now? I read in the papers that you’ve left the solicitors,’ Leo said.
‘Yes. Well, I’m still a partner, but we’ve got a few juniors doing the day-to-day running.
I’m staying on in an advisory capacity, you might say.
I’m still keeping my hand in with the charity, as well, but I think I just want to spend some time with these two while they’re still young. Enjoy being a mum.’
‘They grow up so quickly,’ Pauline said.
‘You can come and visit us any time you want. Can’t she, Mum?’ said Anthony.
‘Of course. Open invitation. We owe you so much, Jennifer.’
‘You don’t owe me anything. I can’t believe all this time that Malcolm…’ She stopped, tears taking over her words.
Leo placed a hand on her arm. ‘It’s all in the past. We don’t dwell on the past here. We learn from it and move on. Isn’t that right, Anthony?’
Anthony hadn’t heard. He was too busy staring at the sleeping baby in his arms.
All three watched in silence. They couldn’t believe how content Anthony looked.
Anthony and Leo were always the last to go to bed. They enjoyed staying up late, gazing out of the picture window in the living room, and when the sky was clear, looking up at the myriad stars and pointing out the constellations. Anthony was getting very good at it, despite his failing eyesight.
Leo yawned. He looked at his watch. It was just after midnight.
‘I think I might go to bed,’ he said.
‘It’s been a good day today,’ Anthony said. He was sitting in the armchair in his dressing gown and slippers, Woody asleep at his feet.
‘It has. It was lovely to see Jennifer and the babies.’
‘Do you think she’ll come again?’
‘Yes. She said she’ll pop over again next month.’
‘Do you think she’ll move out here?’
‘I doubt it, Anthony. She has her own life in Whitby. Friends. Her work.’ Leo stood up. ‘Are you going to bed?’ he asked when Anthony didn’t make to move.
‘I think I’m going to stay here a bit longer,’ he said with a smile. ‘It’s been the best day today. A perfect day. I don’t want it to end.’
Leo looked at him and smiled. ‘You’re happy, aren’t you, Anthony?’
Anthony looked up. ‘I am.’
‘Goodnight, Anthony. I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘Goodnight, Leo.’
Leo left the room, glancing over his shoulder at Anthony in the chair by the window, looking at the black sky with the twinkling stars, a look of contentment on his face. He closed the door behind him and went upstairs to bed.
The next morning, Pauline was first up, as usual. She opened the door to the living room and found Anthony in the same position as Leo had left him.
‘Good grief, you’re up early,’ she said as she walked towards him.
Woody raised his head and looked at her with big eyes.
As Pauline approached, she looked down at her son, saw his eyes closed, his face pale, his lips, his smiling lips, blue. She placed a hand on his. His skin was stone-cold. She checked his wrist for a pulse. There was nothing there. She shouted for Leo.
Anthony Winstanley died in his sleep from a stroke. He was forty-one years old. According to the post-mortem, he’d simply fallen asleep and hadn’t felt any pain.
Pauline and Leo took comfort from that. The day he died had been a good day. It had been the perfect day.