The Other Cathy (28 page)

‘If anything happens you must call my aunt at once,’ she
said. ‘But I shall not be gone long.’

There was no one about as she walked briskly along the
valley road in the warm sunshine. To her relief, Matthew
appeared from the cover of the birch trees and came to meet
her.

‘Dearest, it is good to see you,’ he said. ‘I was beginning to abandon hope for yet another day.’

‘I’m sorry, Matthew, but this is the very first chance I
have had. Cathy is seriously ill, as you may have heard, I’m afraid I can only stay a few minutes.’

‘I understand.’ Taking her hand he led her in among the
trees. As soon as they were safely concealed from view his
strong arms were round her and he kissed her fiercely, then
gently.

‘Nursing your cousin at such a time is a strain for you, my
love. I know how devoted you are to her. You will miss her sorely when she is gone.’

‘Indeed I shall!’ But Emma did not want to talk of Cathy at this moment. Bleakly, omitting nothing, she told him of Bernard’s outrageous belief that Jane had ended her husband’s
life.

‘It is not possible, is it?’ she said in an agonised appeal.
‘I cannot believe anything so dreadful of Aunt Jane.’

Matthew did not reply at once, and his dark eyes were
deeply thoughtful.

‘Suppose, just for a moment, we consider it as a possibility,’ he said at length. ‘What would be her motive? We have to remember that in Bernard Mottram’s judgment your uncle only had a few hours to live. So why should anyone want to hasten his death? He wasn’t in great pain. He was rambling
in his mind, scarcely conscious.’

Emma seized upon this eagerly. ‘So there could be no possible reason, could there? It just wouldn’t make any sense.’

‘I’m not so sure! Bear with me while we see where my
speculations lead us. It seems to me that Mrs Eade’s only reason for acting as Dr Mottram suspects would have been
to prevent her husband revealing something in his delirious
state. Suppose she feared he would implicate himself in your
father’s death? Would she not perhaps feel justified in gently
smothering him with a pillow to ensure that he died an apparently innocent man. In other words, your aunt might have
robbed her husband of those last few hours in order to pre
serve his good name.’

Desperately, Emma sought for a rebuttal to this horribly
persuasive argument.

‘You talk about motives. Very well, then, what could have
been Uncle Paget’s motive for killing my father? You said
yourself that you knew of no reason why they should have
quarrelled.’

Matthew nodded. ‘But I have discovered something new,
Emma, about which you are clearly unaware. For some time
before your father was killed he and Paget Eade had been on
bad terms. Apparently the doctor was concerned about the
high number of accidents at the mine caused by the new power
machines, which at the time were being installed without
proper safety devices. Although Randolph Hardaker was the
master at the mill, Dr Eade blamed your father as the man
responsible for the technical side. He claimed, and he said it loudly and often, that things were changing too fast; the mill-hands were being put at risk by the quest for ever bigger
profits. Hugh Hardaker, on the other hand, maintained that
this was an inevitable part of progress. The men were earning
more than ever before, and it would be time enough to take
safety precautions when the new Factory Acts came into
force. To which Dr Eade was heard to retort that Hardakers
had better watch out
then,
make no mistake, because he’d
be the local Certifying Surgeon under the new regulations!
Eventually a crisis occurred when, on the same day, two small
children were badly injured by the unfenced gearing of a
spinning mule. One of them lost some fingers, and the other had her arm torn off. A week later your father was dead.’

A stir of breeze rustled the autumn-gold leaves of the birch
trees, and a rabbit scuttled past them, just a few feet away.
Emma said in a bewildered voice, ‘If what you say is true, why
was nothing of their quarrel mentioned at the time?’

‘Because the authorities had a better candidate in me,’
Matthew replied bitterly. ‘In the face of the damning evidence against me, they didn’t trouble to look for any alternative
explanation.’

‘But it’s preposterous to suspect Uncle Paget. He was a very gentle man, and could never have been capable of such vio
lence.’

‘Men are capable of almost anything when their passions are
roused. I’m not suggesting he would have deliberately set
out to harm your father, but if a sudden argument had flared
between them, leading to blows ... It is easily done – fatally
easy! I have seen such things happen many times.’

‘All the same, I cannot believe it of him, any more than
I could believe it of you. Admit it, Matthew,
you
could never
kill a man. It was this conviction that made me trust you right
from the beginning.’

‘Then your judgment was at fault!’

Emma stared at him in horror, and he said quickly, ‘No
,
I have not actually killed a man. But it is in me to do it. Once, only the shackles on my legs prevented me from attacking a
guard with a pickaxe. A few pounds of iron chain, Emma,
between me and certain hanging!’

She put her hands to her face, warding off the terrible
picture he had brought to her mind,,

‘I have distressed you, and I am sorry for it,’ Matthew
said contritely. ‘But having come so far along the road of
investigation, we cannot halt or turn back. Neither of us will ever know any peace of mind again until the truth is estab
lished.’

Distantly Emma heard the whistle of a train as it drew out
of Bythorpe station, and she knew she had already stayed too long. But it was painful to leave him, and as they kissed good
bye, she clung to him.

‘I shall wait here each day,’ Matthew promised. ‘Come
whenever you can.’

* * *

That evening Cathy had another haemorrhage. This time it
was not so severe; or perhaps, Emma thought, she was be
coming hardened to the blood and pain and her cousin’s distress. Cathy herself seemed to endure it better, and when
the paroxysms were over she closed her eyes and slept. Soon
after midnight Emma judged it safe to retire to her own bedroom across the corridor, though as usual she left both doors ajar and placed a small silver handbell within Cathy’s reach.

In the morning Cathy was dreamy and lay like a wraith
watching Emma and Nelly moving about the room, busy with
their tasks. Though obviously very weak, she was tranquil and Emma was thankful that at least she had not drifted into
one of her disturbing fantasies about Heathcliff and the other
Cathy.

But a few moments later Emma’s heart jolted with dismay
when her cousin said plaintively, ‘Will you bring Seth to see
me?’

‘Seth? I’m sorry, dearest, but it wouldn’t do to bring him
upstairs. When you are well enough to sit in a chair again,
you’ll be able to see him from the window.’

‘I want to see him now,’ Cathy insisted.

After all, what harm would be done? If it would make Cathy
happier and ease her last days, Emma reflected, why should
she not see Seth as often as she liked?

‘Very well, dearest. I’ll go down and fetch him.’

Nelly cut in, ‘Nay, miss! Seth – well, he’s out at t’moment.’

‘Oh, I see! Then he shall come up as soon as he gets back.’

Nelly was strangely agitated and in a few minutes she
gathered up her dusters and went to leave the room, signalling
Emma with her eyes. Outside, the girl whispered, ‘Happen
tha’s not heard about Seth, Miss Emma? He’s been dismissed.’

‘Dismissed?’

‘Aye, that’s reet! Master sent him packing this morning
when he come home from t’mill for his breakfast.’

Emma was bewildered. ‘But whatever for, Nelly? There
must have been a reason.’

‘I don’t properly know the ins and outs of it, miss. But
Mr Hoad telled me it’s got something to do with stealing
t’master’s silver snuff box.’

Nelly was reluctant to say more, so Emma let her go and
returned to Cathy. She felt furiously angry, but there was
nothing to be done until Uncle Randolph came home for
dinner at midday. Then she intended to have it out with him.
The idea of Seth being guilty of theft was ludicrous. The lad
was honest through and through.

Her uncle and aunt were already seated at the table when
Emma startled them by bursting into the room.

‘Is something wrong, lass?’ Randolph asked, rising to his
feet.

. ‘Indeed there is! What’s this I hear about Seth being sum
marily dismissed? There must be some mistake.’

‘There’s no mistake about it! I don’t like it any more than
you do, but the lad stole from me – that silver snuff box of my father’s. I gave him ten minutes to clear out and never
show his face here again.’

‘But this is absurd, uncle. Seth is no thief! I refuse to
believe it.’

Holding up his hand to prevent Chloe’s intervention, Randolph said with a steely edge to his voice, ‘Now you listen to me, Emma. That snuff box was stolen, no doubt about it.
When I started making enquiries among the servants I could
tell from his shifty manner that Seth was responsible. So I
took Hoad with me and we searched the lad’s room above the
stables. And there it was under the palliasse! He can thank
Providence I’m not taking him before the magistrate.’

‘I think you’re too soft-hearted,’ Chloe managed to get in.
‘Letting that evil boy go unpunished is an open encourage
ment to others. Don’t forget that he’ll now be living in comfort and idleness in the home you provide for that disgusting old grandmother of his.’

Emma said desperately, ‘There must be some dreadful
mistake, uncle, I’m certain of it. And when we discover the
truth you’ll have to take Seth back. But in the meantime,
what am I to tell Cathy? You know how she feels about Seth. Only this morning she was begging me to fetch him upstairs,’

Chloe was outraged at the thought of such impropriety. ‘I hope you told her it was out of the question.’

‘But why, when it would mean so much to her?’ Emma
sighed. ‘I dare not tell Cathy what’s happened. It would break her heart. I shall have to invent some story to explain Seth’s
absence.’

Randolph rubbed his lower lip reflectively. ‘There’s no reason why the lass need ever learn the truth of the matter.
We must all do what we can to keep her happy for the short time she has left, poor little soul.’

‘You might have thought of that before you threw Seth out, uncle!’

His heavy eyebrows came together in a censuring frown. ‘
I’ll not condone thieving, Emma, not at any price. I never
have and I never will.’

That evening when Randolph went upstairs as usual to see
Cathy on his return from the mill, he was particularly kindly
and affectionate with her. Emma was not surprised to hear her cousin say, ‘I want Seth to come and talk to me, papa.’

Emma held her breath, waiting for his reply. Then Ran
dolph said evasively, ‘Aye, and so he shall! Just leave it a little while, eh, my love? Wait until you’re a wee bit stronger.’

‘When will that be, papa?’ she said hoarsely.

‘Soon, dearest. Soon!’

Cathy had asked about Seth repeatedly throughout the day,
and by now it seemed the only thing she could think about. At
eight o’clock Chloe looked in to see the invalid for a moment before departing to spend yet another night at High Banks with Jane; though scornful of the necessity, she regarded it as her sisterly duty. To Emma’s dismay, as Chloe approached
the bed murmuring a few facile phrases of commiseration, Cathy turned away from her petulantly. ‘I don’t want to see you. I want to see Seth.’

Affronted, Chloe exclaimed, ‘What an absurdity! You had
better know this, Cathy – that wretched boy of whom you’re
so inordinately fond has been —’

‘No!’ Emma protested wildly. ‘You are not to say it, Aunt
Chloe. I forbid it.’

‘You forbid it? How dare you!’ Turning back to Cathy,
who was looking bemused, she drew herself up to her full
height and said righteously, ‘Seth has been dismissed for steal
ing. Your father ordered him off the premises this morning.’

Seconds of throbbing silence went by. Then as Emma moved to her cousin’s side to try and soothe her, Cathy let out a piercing scream. Again and again her frail body was rent by soul-tearing shrieks until she was gripped by a spasm of
coughing which left her gasping for breath.

Chloe looked alarmed at the havoc she had wrought, but
there was pique in her voice too. ‘I had better leave you now, Emma, since my very presence seems to have an adverse
effect upon the child. On my way out, I will send Nelly up to
assist you with her. Goodnight!’