Old Sins Long Shadows (21 page)

‘
You shouldn’t be too harsh on her.’  Daniel handed him the cloth the pasty had been wrapped in, hoping he would take it for a sign to leave him but the vicar remained. ‘We all need friends.’

‘
Some more than others,’ Daniel grunted and he crouched down to return to his building. Using his best theatrical sermon voice the vicar spoke behind him causing him to halt.

‘
Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him who is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him.’  Daniel looked up frowning at the vicar’s speech. ‘And yes, Daniel,’ the vicar nodded defiantly, ‘that was from the Bible. Life without a friend is like death without a witness.’ Satisfied with his sermon the vicar turned and walked away, halting momentarily to see Daniel staring after him before continuing on his way back to the house.

Daniel watched the vicar until he was out of view and he broke into a smile
. It wasn’t often someone challenged Daniel, and it wasn’t often Daniel listened, but that grey haired, God’s word spouting old man had just done both. Daniel liked and respected him for it which was precisely why he was willing to help the old man out in the first place. It wasn’t long, however, before Daniel’s eyes were drawn back to the road. The trap and its occupants were long gone and the road stretched like a silver ribbon into the distance. He hated how the chit of a girl continued to stalk his mind despite his best efforts to forget her. He turned his attention back to his work, picking up a brick and assessing its size and where it would best fit, but the words of the vicar continued to play on his mind, together with the face of Janey Carhart.

Spring had arrived in St.Wenna. What should have been a time of renewed vigour, growth and optimism for the coming year was marred by the arrival of another visitor. Scarlet fever had spent the winter months visiting households up and down the county of Cornwall. Creeping unseen into people’s homes, schools and workplaces, to invade and destroy their bodies and for some, ultimately, their lives. In its wake it left families weak if not bereaved, schools half full and, for those where the bread winner had been struck ill, financially stricken. No one knows how it came to St.Wenna, for the onset was so sudden that no one could pinpoint the first victim. From a full attendance the week before, the headmaster of the village school had begun to mark half his school absent through illness or fear. He therefore took the unprecedented decision to close the school temporarily for the foreseeable future. This decision was unheard of when it was not harvest time and the farming children were needed at home.

The staff of Bosvenna Estate, isolated from the village by work hours and distance, had heard from the gardener about the illness that had bred fear into the villagers. Children no longer played in the streets but were kept indoors by their worried parents. The usual sound of neighbours talking and passing the time of day, a sound that formed a backdrop to village country life, was eerily absent. Even the congregation at the Sunday service had dwindled to four stoutly religious elders who did not fear death.

Life in the servant’s quarters continued as normal but each day more news of another victim succumbing to the fever was brought to them
. Fear breeds fear and Mr Tallock, in his quiet authoritative way, tried to contain the panic. He addressed his staff informing them that he suspected some of the news was embellished and that every illness was being put down to the fever. This may have been true but even he started to become concerned when Miss Petherbridge took herself off to her office and remained there, in isolation, the whole day on the pretext of sorting out the accounts.

Mr Tallock, with palms moist by perspiration, hesitated before giving a cursory knock on the office door
. He liked everything to be in order. Order was stability, order resulted in the smooth running of the house, order allowed him to do his job properly. He dreaded disorder. Disorder reeked havoc, disorder fuelled panic, disorder upset his nerves and made him feel a bumbling sweating fool inside. He had a feeling of dread that on the other side of the door his orderly world would be put to the test and he must take immediate action to contain it. He paused to wipe his sweating palms on his trousers, knocked and went in.

It was as he had feared
. Miss Petherbridge sat at her desk, her account book untouched and her pale forehead resting on her forearms. She looked up with bloodshot eyes and insisted she would be alright but Mr Tallock would have none of it. Closing the door to prying ears and in whispered tones he discovered that she was indeed ill with a sore throat that made it difficult to swallow. Mercifully, she was only mildly hot but he could not let her stay and risk the other servants finding out or her illness spreading. He did not know if it was scarlet fever but remembering Janey’s words, he could not take the chance. He organised the stable boy to take her back to her house in a trap and sent word to her sister in Bodmin to visit her forthwith. Only Janey saw her being walked to the trap by the back dairy entrance and it was to Janey that Miss Petherbridge’s spat words of venom formed by pent up fear and frustration of being taken ill. Despite her white complexion and the dark shadows under her eyes, her voice still held the strong tones of hatred.

‘
Don’t for one minute think you are going to step into my shoes while I’m gone, Carhart!’ she hoarsely whispered. ‘I will die first before you progress up the ladder in this house!’

Mr Tallock pulled her away and
outside to the waiting trap. He sighed with relief as he watched it disappear down the drive with Miss Petherbridge’s fevered body sagging on the bench seat.

‘
Pay no heed to Miss Petherbridge. She is not herself,’ Mr Tallock said as he passed Janey by.

‘
Is it scarlet fever?’

‘
No, it is just a cold. I don’t want you to breathe a word, do you hear?’

Janey nodded and followed him inside
. Nervous perspiration had started to form on his brow and he looked a little shaky.

‘
Mr Tallock, are you ill? You don’t look well.’  She sat him down and made him a cup of tea. He took the cup in shaking hands and took a sip.

More to reas
sure himself than Janey he replied decisively, ‘I am quite well.’

‘
But you are sweating. Do you have a fever?  You should take yourself home.’  Janey was growing concerned. Mr Tallock, despite his denial, looked quite grey.

‘
I’m sure she will soon be well and ordering her staff around once again,’ he gave a shaky laugh, ‘Everything is in order. Nothing has changed.’  Janey sat down beside him and placed her hand on his shaking fingers. They both knew that Miss Petherbridge had more than a cold and it was up to the Lord as to how severe or mild the fever would be.

‘
Please tell me,’ she coaxed.

‘
Rest assured I am not ill, unlike Miss Petherbridge.’ He gnawed at his bottom lip, ‘I hope I have done the right thing.’

‘
Mr Tallock, you have done the right thing. Miss Petherbridge needs rest and care. It would have done no good to have her here ill.’

The butler patted her hand in return, grateful for her support.

‘I think I will bare her wrath when she returns. I’m sure she was none too pleased to be dragged from her office.’

Janey smiled,
‘She fears that Bosvenna Manor will fall like a house of cards without her. She trusts no one but herself to be able to run this place when we all know it is you who is the head and the quiet driving force of the staff.’ Mr Tallock’s smile faded a little as he observed their hands that lay in mutual comfort and support on the table.

‘
Have you ever seen the SS Great Britain?’ he asked, the lady’s maid shook her head. ‘It is a massive iron hulled steamer, faster than any ship before and its power and speed is unrivalled. I saw it once at Bristol docks. It was a magnificent sight. But Janey, the public only sees the opulence, the size and strength. It does not see the sweating bodies of the workers beneath, the heat, the noise that works the engine in its depths. You call me a driving force of the house but inside I am quite, quite different.’ He took a deep breath and came to a decision. ‘Janey, as lady’s maid you are now my second in command. In the coming weeks I may need to rely on you while Miss Petherbridge is ill.’

Janey nodded slowly,
‘I understand.’

‘
I’m not sure that you do. I fear it is only a matter of time before we are struck with the fever here. I may lean on you for your knowledge in this time of crisis as well as direction.’

‘
Direction?’ Janey’s confusion was apparent.

Mr Tallock pulled his hand away and once again wiped his palms on his hands.

‘What I am about to confess to you, you must promise not to breath a word.’ Janey promised. ‘I have been the butler here for ten years and I trust that Lord and Lady Brockenshaw have not found me wanting. Miss Petherbridge and I compliment each other with our different methods of leadership.’  He took a deep breath as if to summon up the courage to go on. ‘I know this job inside out and relish it. Minor crises are of no consequence, the cancelation of guests, the newssheet’s late arrival, the wrong wine delivered. Once in a while a bigger crisis occurs. Staff stealing, for example, or a water pipe bursting and, as in this case, the threat of fever. There is no sense in how these things affect me.’  He placed his hand on his stomach. ‘But sometimes I feel a sickness come upon me, my heart races as if it would burst from my chest, my hands…’ he held them out in front of him and looked at his trembling fingers as if he had not seen them before, ‘See how they shake. Sometimes I feel I can’t catch my breath and I find myself gasping for air. It’s a feeling of dread that wraps around me and I feel as if I am going to die.’ He looked in that instance like a worried little boy. ‘I have always been able to hide these feelings. Miss Petherbridge has made it easy by always stepping in and taking charge whether it was at my bidding or not. I must confess I have allowed her to and been grateful for it.’ He took another breath as if once again, just by thinking about it, he was having trouble breathing, ‘She is not here and I dread what will occur now I am on my own.’

Janey took both his hands in hers and gave them a little shake,

‘But Mr Tallock, you are quite wrong for you are not alone.  You have me, all you have to do is nod and I will be by your side.’

‘
With your knowledge on the fever I may call upon you.’

‘
With my knowledge on the fever,’ Janey chided him gently, ‘I would be very put out if you didn’t!’  Mr Tallock managed a smile.

‘
It is good to hear you are up to the challenge, Janey. For I have a dreadful feeling it is knocking on our door.’

The next two days were as normal albeit the absence of Miss Petherbridge. To prevent panic it was relayed to the staff that she had a minor sore throat and cold, nothing more. This seemed to reassure the staff who was as eager to accept the explanation as to not, but Janey and Mr Tallock knew that it would only be a matter of time before someone else was taken ill. Whilst walking the dog, Janey visited the apothecary and stocked up on chloride and lime, she also made a plan in her head as to how to isolate those who fell ill from the remaining healthy staff. What neither Mr Tallock nor Janey expected was that the first victim to the fever would be Lord Brockenshaw himself.

If they had seen his dinner plate returned with the roast duck barely eaten the evening before, they may have had their
suspicions raised but Janey and Mr Tallock were not present at the time. The plate of food was deposited on the kitchen table in front of Mrs Friggens who immediately started to grumble at the waste of good food before dumping it in a bin for the compost heap. If John, Lord Brockenshaw’s valet, had informed the staff that he had retired to bed an hour earlier than his usual time, they may have had their suspicions raised. However the valet, delighted that his duties were over earlier than usual, took the opportunity to go to his room, change out of his uniform and visit his sweet heart who worked as a servant on a neighbouring farm.

The first anyone knew that the m
aster had grown progressively feverish during the night, to the point that his sheets were drenched and his cheeks flushed red, was when they heard John’s footsteps running down the stairs. The anxious valet came crashing through the kitchen door. He was so panic-stricken that at first his words didn’t make sense but after being told firmly by Janey to speak slowly and calmly, the terrible news was eventually relayed to the staff.

Both Janey and Mr Tallock immediately went to see for themselves
. Lord Brockenshaw was already verging on delirium and struggling to breath. Mr Tallock started to sweat too.

‘
I will inform the mistress,’ said Janey in a hushed urgent tone. ‘You must send for the doctor. Before we proceed we must know what we are dealing with.’ Mr Tallock nodded absently and headed for the door. ‘We must then talk to the staff. We can no longer keep them in the dark.’ He looked back at her with a worried expression and she smiled reassuringly, ‘We will talk to them together. We can contain this. We can cope.’ She looked back at her master’s fever ridden body, then turned and left to speak to her mistress. As she hurried along the passage she offered a little prayer to God for help for she knew that servants living and working in such close quarters was a haven for the fever to spread and thrive.