The Trial of Marie Montrecourt (10 page)

He held his hands up in surrender. “You’re right, no more questions.”

She nodded and returned to grooming the dog.

After a moment, he asked: “Do you walk these monsters?”

“After breakfast. It’s my routine.”

“Even in the snow?”

“Even in the snow.”

“Feel like having company today?” She glanced at him uncertainly, so he added by way of explanation: “I need to get out of this house before it suffocates me.”

She could certainly sympathise with that. “As long as there are no more questions.”

He mockingly made the sign of the cross against his heart. “I’ll be in my room. Shout when you’re ready to go.”

She watched him make his way back to the house, hands in trouser pockets, kicking up the snow as he walked.

*

Peter became a regular companion on her walks and Marie soon found herself relaxing in his company. He was pleasant to be with and, although his humour was sometimes very childish, he made her laugh. It was hard to believe he was a Minton. She never thought to ask Jenny Godson if she minded his joining them, because she seemed to accept his presence quite happily. So it was a surprise when, after a few weeks, Jenny arrived earlier than usual for their walk.

“Is something wrong?” Marie asked, taking her up to the small box room. She could see that Jenny was perturbed.

“Well, I just wanted to talk to you. Alone. With Peter always there, it’s become difficult to discuss things like we used to do.”

“Oh. You mean about Ralph?” Marie had forgotten Jenny’s need to unburden herself.

“I can’t really talk about him like I used to with Peter there.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. Has something happened?” She indicated for Jenny to sit down beside her on the bed.

“Yes. Martin saw the doctor today. He said Ralph’s foot isn’t getting any better. If anything, it seems even more deformed and it’s going to become obvious to everybody soon. We don’t know what to do, Marie – the shame of it. Everybody will know.”

That seemed a strange remark to Marie. Surely shame didn’t enter into it, as helping Ralph was all that mattered. “There is something.” Marie pulled a case out from underneath the bed. “I’m convinced that the only way to cure Ralph is to let him have surgery.”

“An operation?”

“It would cost money but… here, look. Let me show you what I mean. I have an illustration somewhere of how the foot is formed.”

She opened the case and Jenny saw that it was packed with books. On top was one called
Esoteric Anthropology
.

“No, not this one.” Marie tossed it on the bed beside Jenny. “Maybe it’s in Anne Robin’s book.”

Esoteric Anthropology
fell open at a page containing a detailed drawing of the male nude body, the genitals prominently on show. Jenny stared down at it in mortification. She’d never seen the male body so openly displayed before. When she and Martin made love, it was in the dark and under the covers. She sat rooted to the spot, staring at the drawing. Marie leant towards her with another book and Jenny saw, with growing alarm, that it was called
Exploring the Human Form
.

“No.” She shot to her feet and turned her back on the offending pictures. “I – er – what I came to say was that I can’t walk out with you today. In fact, Ralph’s taking up more and more of my time and I’ll probably not be able to walk out again. Ever. I’m sorry.”

Marie watched with some astonishment as Jenny headed towards the door. “You came all the way out here just to tell me that?” she called after her.

“I’ll see myself out. I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

Marie heard her footsteps rushing down the stairs. She then heard Edith, who had just returned from chapel, call out: “Is everything all right, Mrs Godson?” And Jenny’s mumbled reply, “I’ve got to get back for the baby.” Then the front door slammed shut. Marie looked at the book lying open on the bed. If that was the effect it had on Jenny, she couldn’t imagine what it would do to Stanley if she ever found the courage to show him.

*

Although Marie missed Jenny, Peter more than compensated for her absence. He was always such an easygoing companion – except for today. They’d barely exchanged a word since they’d left The Laurels and he had a permanent scowl on his face. He picked up a branch and threw it for the dogs. Both of them bounded away in pursuit, legs flying in all directions, slithering past the stick and then running back to retrieve it. They snapped playfully at each other over who’d be the one to return it to the thrower.

“God! Sometimes I think I’d rather be dead than stuck in this place,” he said eventually.

Marie was surprised by his vehemence. “Why did you come back then if you feel like that?”

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” She was offended and he was immediately contrite. “Sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you.” They continued walking in silence for a moment. “Trouble is, I get so restless staying in one place for too long. Always have. And Stanley’s starting to insist I look for another job. As if they can be picked up that easily.”

Peter had told her a few days ago that he’d lost his job and that was why he’d returned to Ilkley. She was surprised Stanley hadn’t urged him to find work before. Perhaps that was Edith’s influence. She was just happy to have her youngest back at home.

“What did you do in Bradford?” She’d often been curious about it.

“I was a clerk in an office at a saw mill.”

“A clerk?” She was surprised; it sounded so dull. She’d imagined his world to be much more glamorous. He obviously read her mind.

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I’m not sure I can trust you with that information.” The frown went and he grinned at her. “It might turn you against me. Do you think it will?”

She couldn’t help smiling, relieved to see Peter restored to good humour. “I won’t know until you tell me, will I?”

“Will you keep it a secret? Do you swear?” He circled around her playfully as they walked.

She was happy to join in the game. “If you don’t think you can trust me, then don’t tell me.”

“Will you swear?”

“All right, I’ll swear.”

“Fact is – I’ve done something a bit stupid, even for me.” He pushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. “I… er… borrowed some money from the office at the mill. From the safe.”

Shocked, she stopped walking. “You stole money?”

“I was obviously going to put it back again; I wasn’t stealing it. I mean, the night before the cards were falling my way like magic. I couldn’t put a foot wrong. Honestly, Marie, there’s never been anything like it. I was on a winning streak and I knew it. I couldn’t turn my back on it, could I? It was my chance to clean my life up, to make good. I wanted it so badly and the only thing that was stopping me was lack of money. I had the keys to the safe, and I just borrowed what I needed. The next night, luck deserted me and the sky fell in. I lost everything. Wham!”

She was still trying to take it in. “You stole money?”

“Borrowed it. I borrowed it. Stealing means you have no intention of paying it back. There is a difference.”

“Not a difference anyone else will see.” Was that the cause of the raised voices she’d heard on the day Peter had returned?

“Problem is the firm missed it before I could return it. If everything had gone as planned, it would have been back in the safe first thing the next morning. They would never have known anything about it, I’d be filthy rich and everyone’d be congratulating me.”

“It is stealing.”

“How can it be stealing when I intended to pay it back?”

“If the story’s true.” There was always the possibility with Peter that it wasn’t. “If it’s true, why haven’t the police arrested you?”

“My boss said that if the money was paid back by the end of the next day, they wouldn’t take any further action than sacking me on the spot and,” he added lamely, “not giving me any references. And so it was paid back, by Stanley – and I was sacked and I didn’t get a reference. You try getting work without a reference.”

“Stanley paid it back?” Now she knew he wasn’t telling the truth. Stanley was hard to separate from his money and Peter had told her the new tea room was taking every penny he had. “How much did you steal?”

“Borrow. I borrowed fifty guineas.” He saw her look of horror. “I stood to make three times that amount if I’d won.”

“Stanley could pay back fifty guineas? Just like that?”

“Well, thanks to you, yes.”

“Me?”

“Ma told him to pay for it using the money you brought with you when you married him. So, thank you, Madame. I am very grateful.”

Marie stared at him in astonishment. “What money? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t bring any money with me.”

He laughed. “Oh, come on. What do you think is paying for Appleyards?”

“I didn’t… I don’t have any money.” She felt the need to sit down. She sank onto the grass, her skirts billowing out around her. Peter squatted down beside her.

“I mean the eight hundred pounds, you ninny.”

She stared at him. This must surely be some of his nonsense.

He saw her look of disbelief. “You didn’t know about it, did you?”

She shook her head, still trying to comprehend it. “Eight hundred pounds is a fortune. How could I provide such money?” There was no way that Sister Grace could have found such a huge sum either.

“I gather John Pickard, your guardian, paid it to him.”

Thoughts whirled and twisted through Marie’s mind. John Pickard had hidden the existence of such a sum from her? She had been lied to. Stanley hadn’t wanted a wife nor had he wanted to offer her his protection; he needed her money for his business. If she had been told such a sum existed, how different her choice of future might have been. Whose money was it? Who had decreed how it should be used? Who had instructed John Pickard? She stood up and began to run down the hill.

“Where are you going? Marie?” Peter set off in pursuit, the dogs bounding after him. He caught up with her and grabbed her by the arm. “Where are you going?”

“To see Stanley and demand to be told what he knows.”

“No, Marie.” She’d never seen Peter look frightened before. “Don’t say anything to Stanley or Ma. Don’t tell them I told you. I shouldn’t have said anything. And I might have got it wrong. I just overheard them talking one day. I’ve probably got it wrong.”

She didn’t think so. It would explain so much. She shook herself free. “Somebody needs to tell me what’s happening.”

“If you stir everything up, there’ll be the devil to pay, Marie. Stanley will chuck me out in an instant if he thinks I’ve caused trouble, and I’ve nowhere else to go. You’ve got to leave things as they are. If they haven’t told you it’s for a reason. Please, Marie, stop and think – what good will it do to challenge him? How will it change anything? Promise me you won’t say anything. It could make things difficult for
you,
too.”

She turned away and continued down the hill, with Peter trailing miserably after her. She went straight up to her room and shut the door, leaving him to put the dogs in their pen. Stanley was out at work as usual and Edith was at chapel. She had no idea where Edwin was. She sat on her bed and stared at the wall. After what seemed like an age, she began to think through her confusion. Perhaps Peter was right. To confront Stanley would make her position at The Laurels even worse. She needed to know more before she took that risk, and
the one person who could tell her was the man who had obviously lied to her from the beginning.

*

She wasted no time. She didn’t write for an appointment and caught the train to Harrogate the next day, where John Pickard had his office. She walked straight past the clerk, who was too surprised to stop her, and confronted the startled solicitor across his desk. She came straight to the point.

“Did you pay Stanley eight hundred pounds to marry me?”

John Pickard looked shocked. He saw his clerk hovering anxiously in the doorway and waved him away. “Close the door,” he ordered and turned to face her. “Sit down, Mrs Minton. Please, compose yourself. Shall I get you a glass of water?”

“No, thank you. I just need to know the truth,” she answered not caring if he found her manner rude.

“What’s given rise to all of this?”

“Peter told me he’d overheard a conversation. Is it true?”

After a moment, and with obvious reluctance, the solicitor answered, “Yes, it’s true.”

She expelled the breath she’d been holding and, totally bewildered, sank onto the chair opposite him. “But where did so much money come from? It can’t have been from Sister Grace. It can’t have been.” None of this made any sense. “Perhaps Sister wasn’t responsible for any of this happening.” She could see from the solicitor’s face that this was the truth. “Why have you lied to me?”

“I never said it was the nun,” he said awkwardly. “That’s a conclusion you jumped to yourself.”

“You never said I was wrong.” He must have thought her such a fool. “You let me go on believing it.”

“If it made things easier for you, I could see no harm in it. There is nothing more I can tell you.”

Marie looked at him incredulously. “There is everything to tell me. Who has been providing for me while I’ve been in England? Who provided the money for me to be married?”

“My instruction, when you insisted on leaving the convent so precipitously, was to settle your future. I have done that to the best of my ability. By whom I was instructed, or why, I’m in no position to discuss with you. I am legally bound to respect my client’s demand for privacy.” He softened his tone a little. “You must see that for a young woman on her own, marriage was the only possibility.”

“But I was given no choice in the matter.” It was obvious he had nothing more to say. “Does Stanley know where the money came from?”

“He has no idea. I explained to him that I was restricted in what I could tell him. He accepted my word that it was all perfectly proper,” Pickard assured her. “He agreed to the marriage because The Emporium was close to bankruptcy. And he accepted my terms, which were to make no enquiries about the source of the money and to make no mention of it to you. He signed a legal contract to that effect. In exchange, he agreed to give you the protection of his name and promised to provide for you for the rest of your life.”