Two Houses, Alike in Dignity, final chapter. A Rowansford story

A frantic, worried David had been waiting for Claire after school, and had poured all that he’d heard and found out into her ears before her school bus left. Now Claire was risking her great-grandfather’s wrath to tell Blake the same story.
“And so we have nothing. The farm’s not ours, and we’re going to be turned out. There’s some old mill somewhere, but that’s just a ruin, David said…” Claire had grown up with her great-grandfather bullying and dominating the family. Blake had grown up with his older brother’s devious schemes against him. Neither of them expected fairness or kindness from others; neither of them realised that the last thing the adult Waterfolds would do was leave them homeless and destitute. But Blake felt as though a weight had rolled off his shoulders. If Martha was penniless, instead of being heiress to a thriving farm, then he did have something to offer her after all.
“I know what to do,” he began – and then his sharp ears caught the sound of Albert’s approach. “And what do you think you were doing, my girl?”
Claire jumped and dropped the crates that had been her excuse for entering the barn.
“O-o-only getting these out so that I can start picking as soon as I’ve got changed.”
“You don’t have my permission to go in there! And you get changed the instant you come home – understand?” Three weeks had passed since Claire had told Blake of the catastrophe hanging over them all – three weeks in which she hadn’t been able to see or speak to Blake at all. Albert had taken to supervising their homework – upstairs in the old nursery rooms. He’d brought an old rusty table in from the garden and some chairs, and now Claire and Georgina had to sit and work under his angry gaze. Then he would inspect their homework, find them yet more jobs to do, and generally keep them apart from each other and their mother as much as possible.
The summer holidays were getting nearer. Half term had been bad enough. What would Albert be like over the six weeks of the summer? Another silent meal, another hopeless morning. Friday should be a nice day, Martha thought, and weekends should be fun, not dreaded. She looked at her little son and for the first time, she wished that he’d been a girl. She’d been so pleased to have a boy: Mike’s last gift to her. But if Timothy had been a girl, Albert would never have wanted to keep them here. Why he was so desperate for a male heir, Martha didn’t know – but Albert would not let Timothy go without a bitter fight. And she hadn’t the strength for that. For once, Albert wasn’t in when Claire and Georgina came home from school. They still both hastily changed into their old-fashioned clothes though, and began their chores: they didn’t dare do otherwise. And Claire was glad they had when some ten minutes later, Albert's elderly farm truck car came towards the house. But to her surprise, only Blake got out of it.
“Claire. Where’s your mother? Quick!” he called. “You said you’d do anything to get yourself and the children away from Albert.”
“Yes.” Martha was pale and tense.
“Marry me. Today. Now. I have a licence, the registrar’s booked. Married to you, I can protect you all. I’ve found somewhere for us to live. But we must go now. I’ve left Albert right up at the fifty acre field, and that’s a good two hour’s walk away, but he might hitch a lift back. Will you trust me?” She’d said she’d do anything, hadn’t she? She handed Timothy over to him.
“Get the children in the car. There’s a couple of things I must take. I’ll only be three minutes.” On the other side of the valley, a furious Albert was stomping home along a deserted road. Blake would be sorry. He’d make him pay. Many times over. “Squeeze in. We’re leaving right now. I’ve found your mill, Claire. Quick, before Albert gets back.” “Stay hidden up here. We will be back for you.”
Blake had given Claire the keys to the brand-new locks on the doors, before he and Martha had raced off again. “Trust me. Trust us both.”
Claire looked round the upstairs room of the mill, while Georgina played with Timothy, keeping him happy. The room had been swept, and a fence put up to stop them falling through the holes in the floor. Anything was better than being at Nedging Tye, under Albert’s thumb. A sudden thought struck her. “There! No more scraped-back hair.” Claire straightened up, enjoying the feeling of her own hair loose about her face – and the sight of her sister’s hair falling free. Shame about the clothes, but you couldn’t have everything! They none of them ever forgot that first evening together in the old mill – Blake cooking on the wood-fired stove he’d built from scrap, the kitchen and the furniture he’d created from salvage.
“I did this at night,” he explained. “And I dropped off the bits as I found them, when I was out doing errands for Albert. There’s still more to do, but I figured we could cope like this for now.” Martha looked more animated than Claire had seen her looking for ages, as she told Claire and Georgina what she and Blake had done while the girls had been with Timothy.
“We had to take the car back. We couldn’t have Albert setting the police onto Blake for stealing it. Luckily, he wasn’t back.” She almost smiled at the thought of Albert tramping that long way home. “Then we went and got married…”
“I have a father again,” thought Georgina. “I have someone to protect me.” And she gazed happily at Blake. Claire, older and wiser, realised that the marriage was more about giving Blake legal clout than creating a new family. They all had bad dreams though for the next three nights. Come Monday morning, Georgina was clinging, shaking, to her mother, and Claire was holding Timothy as though she feared he’d be torn away from them all. And Martha couldn’t bear the thought of letting any of them out of her sight. “You don’t have to let them go.” Blake reached out and touched Martha’s cheek to reassure her. “I bought a mobile – just a pay-as-you-go. Phone school and say they’re ill. Albert won’t be calling the authorities. You might tell them what’s been going on. And we can stay safely in here until you all feel happier.” “Hello? It’s Martha Battisford here – Claire and Georgina’s mother. I’m afraid Claire and Georgina are both down with flu – yes, there is a lot of it about at the moment, isn’t there? I was afraid this might happen – we saw my cousins last weekend, and she phoned me to tell me her two were ill, and she hoped we hadn’t caught it. I thought we’d escaped it, but no…Yes, Claire’s temperature is 103 at the moment, and Georgina 102. They definitely won’t be in this week! I’ll phone next Monday if they’re still going to be off next week. Yes, I got about two hours sleep last night – it is like that, isn’t it? Thank you very much.”
Blake listened, and admired Martha’s acting skills! “Next stop the walls,” Claire said, looking at them thoughtfully. They’d spent a busy week cleaning, scrubbing, patching floorboards and generally making the place look more homely. They were sleeping better, though it had to be said that the floor was hard! And it was a good job it was summer, or they’d all be decidedly chilly at night!
“Have we still got flu, Mum?”
“Do you want to go back to school?”
“No!” Georgina said from where she was sitting. “No! Don’t make me! Great-grandfather might come and get me.” She sounded decidedly panicky.
“No. Not me either.” Claire could feel the same fears rising within herself.
“Then you’ve still got flu.” Martha was relieved too. “I know you don’t want to be on your own.” Blake put his arms reassuringly round Martha. Physical contact seemed to help her. “But we are going to need some money. So I’ve found a night job. This place is really secure – no-one can get in if you lock the doors. And no-one comes here anyway, and especially not at night. You all need clothes, and the food we’ve got won’t last forever. We’re fine for wood for cooking and the fire, but we need oil for the lamps.”
They were upstairs, out of earshot of the girls. Blake knew that if Martha was happy with the plan, then the girls would be alright too. He felt her begin to relax, saw her eyes lose the worry.
“It’ll be alright. Trust me.”
Trust me. The words were like a lifeline to her. She smiled at him, and his heart turned over within him for love of her – a love he didn’t dare tell. “How did it go?” Patrick asked. Jenny had come into the house in full formal war gear – she’d been at the lawyers’ offices for most of the day.
“Fine. We can serve notice just as soon as you can sign everything. What about the finance?” That, after all, was Patrick’s speciality.
“Big numbers. We’re talking several hundred thousand that’s owed to us by Albert Battisford – and his father before him. Once we’ve evicted the family, we can make a claim…” And that was the point at which David stormed into the room.
“How can you do that? How can you just calmly talk about evicting people and taking their home and their money from them? Haven’t we got enough already? Well, I warned Claire what you were up to weeks ago…”
Neither Patrick nor Jenny had talked to David about their plans. Neither of them knew that he’d overheard Jenny talking to Jonathan Saxtead – and only overheard half of the conversation. Patrick was totally taken aback by his eldest son’s sudden onslaught. Jenny was seriously unimpressed… David was so obviously really upset and worked up however that in the end Jenny took him out for a long walk to calm down. And made sure that he knew all the story and not just the bit he’d overheard.
“Why didn’t you ask us?”
“Well, I knew I shouldn’t have been home in the first place,” David admitted, a bit shame-faced. “And I knew you’d say I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.” “But you’re not going to leave Claire and her mum and Timothy and Georgina homeless are you?”
“David, when have you ever seen us behave like that to anybody? Of course not! But until we’ve reclaimed everything – legally – we can’t give it back to them.”
“And you’re not going to let Albert go on living there are you?”
“Now that’s what I do want to talk to you about. What’s Claire told you about him? And I need to talk to her too.” David still couldn’t sit still. He got up and began walking round the ruins, Jenny following him and listening.
“…so she’s not in school this week. Charlie says she’s got flu. She asked her form teacher, said she had a book to return to her. And she might well be off next week as well. But Charlie says she’s been funny – quieter than ever and looking scared almost and she said that half term was dreadful and then looked like she wished she hadn’t let on…”
Jenny had heard stories like this too often before. She paused, worried.
“She’s never had odd bruises on her or anything?” David was on to her meaning instantly.
“Oh no. Albert’s never hit them. At least, only once, when they’d first arrived and then her mother stopped him from ever doing it again. But she says he’s really strict and old-fashioned and they have to do everything just as he wants and do lots of housework and cooking and things…”
“Well, we expect you four to help out…”
“Yes, but not in such a…such a controlling way. It’s like he thinks he owns them. Like he thinks they’re his servants or something. But I haven’t seen her for weeks now.”
“I think I’m going to have to go there. With back-up.”
But when Jenny did go round, there was no sign of Martha, Claire, Georgina or Timothy. And a furious Albert denied all knowledge of their whereabouts, before bolting and barring the doors against them. David was worried sick about Claire. She still hadn’t been back to school – apparently she still had flu. Martha had phoned in again.
“I know. They’ve never had a day off in years, and now this! They’re still far from well. Someone called at the farm to speak to me? I’m staying with a friend; she’s helping share the nursing. I’m still up most nights for most of the night. No, the GP’s not too worried about them, but they’ve had it badly, and their temperatures are slow to go down…”
School had believed her – why not? But David didn’t. He was sure they had no friends apart from himself. He stood in the ruins of the abbey, looking at the mill stream where Hezekiah Battisford had saved Arabella Waterfold’s life. Their love story had had a happy ending, but what about his? Where could they have gone? They had no home – and from what Claire had said, no money either. And then a sudden thought came into his head. The old mill wasn’t easy to find, hidden as it was among dense woodland. Jonathan had known the way, but it took David a while, and the sun was setting before he came out through the trees and saw before him the solid stone walls of the mill – and a light shining through a window! Carefully, he crept closer. Peering through the overgrown window, he could see them! Claire, cuddling her little brother, Georgina talking to her mother. He didn’t know why they were wearing such strange clothes, but they were there, alive and healthy. He could smell cooking. There was someone else in the room as well, with his back to David, stirring something over a stove. Then David’s foot slipped on the dew-wet grass and he fell over with a noisy clatter. “I got it all wrong! Not about you not owning Nedging Tye, but about what my parents were planning to do. They wanted to reclaim it so it could be legally given back to you.”
“I’m not going back there.” Claire’s voice was final. “Nor me.” Martha came over. “That place was a prison. We’ve escaped. We’re staying free. Blake rescued us. I will not send you back Claire. I should never have gone in the first place. Your father warned me…but I was pregnant and desperate and didn’t know where to turn. I’m sorry.”
There was a plea for understanding in Martha’s eyes as she looked at her daughter. “You’v e got me now. I will take care of you all. Together, we can build a new future, free from Nedging Tye, free from Albert Battisford.”
Blake put his arms round Martha and she leant against him. Claire on the other hand, glared at David.
“Your family can stay out of our business. We don’t need them. We can look after ourselves.”
Her words were a knife-thrust to his heart. Blake saw the lad’s hurt and, more than that, recognised the chivalrous impulse that had driven him.
“Claire, you’re not being fair. He was trying his best to help you – because he cared about you.”
And Claire looked at David and saw him properly again.
“Thank you for telling us we owned this mill – it’s given us somewhere to go. But we don’t want anyone to find us. Especially not Great-grandfather. Promise me you won’t tell anyone we’re here. Please.”
Her voice broke on the last word, and David yielded. “But can I come and see you again?” And Claire saw the boy who loved her, rather than a threat to their new-found security. She looked questioningly at Blake.
“Only if you’re sure you’re not followed. We really don’t want to be found at the moment.”
“Actually, that would be really nice,” Claire admitted, and suddenly they were talking again like the friends they had been. “Why the clothes?” David asked.
“This is what he made us wear. We came away in what we stood up in – there was no time to pack.”
David’s eyes grew wide as he took in the implications of their flight. “Tomorrow afternoon. Can I come here then if I can get here unnoticed?” “This is so kind of you. But won’t your mum miss the clothes?”
“They were going to the charity shop! I volunteered to drop them off – and chose these for you two. Big families grow out of clothes, and if we kept everything, we’d have no space to move! These, on the other hand, are new…”
Rather sheepishly, David produced a couple of brand-new packs of knickers from the bag he’d brought the clothes in.
“I just bought what my sisters wear – you two look about their size…” He wasn’t expecting Claire’s response though! But she was amazed by his heroism in going out to buy girls’ underwear! Everything went flying – but he wasn’t complaining about that. “There’s another pair of jeans each and some more T shirts in the bag. You can keep the bag – it’s only an old one of mine.”
“Thank you David! This is exactly what I wanted. I almost feel like a normal girl!”
And over on the other side of the room, Georgina was showing her clothes to Martha with as much pleasure as if they had been top of the range designer models. Ironically enough, Blake’s job was as night watchman in the very graveyard where David and Claire used to meet – the place where they’d uncovered the first clue to the real owners of Nedging Tye. The pay wasn’t great, but Blake didn’t mind. It would keep them fed – and thanks to David, he only needed clothes for Martha now. The girls would need new school uniforms by the end of the summer, but they’d have saved up enough money by then. This was a new beginning for them all. An uncomplicated one. Uncomplicated for Blake and Martha maybe, but for Patrick and Jenny Waterfold, complicated just went through the roof. Jenny had the bright idea of tracing Mike Battisford’s sisters, who’d both moved abroad, one to Canada and the other to New Zealand. What they told her about growing up at Nedging Tye with Albert in charge had been a bit of an eye-opener.
“They had no idea Martha was at Nedging Tye. They both said they’d have come and rescued her if they’d known – after all, Mike had rescued them. Then they told me about how controlling Albert had been with them, the sort of childhood they’d had…he was violent with them too. Used to lock them up in dark rooms…They’ve sent me written statements, both of them, for us to use if we need to.”
“Why didn’t they tell someone?”
“Albert. He was behind all those fake child abuse claims – remember them? And then he said he’d prove they’d written them. So no-one would believe them if they did complain.”
“Well, that solves that mystery…” It was nearly half-past two in the morning, and they were going over what they would do next. Jenny had finally managed to talk to Martha by phone – she didn’t know that the only reason Martha had agreed to talk was because David had assured Martha, Claire and Blake that his mother really did understand what they’d been through at Nedging Tye.
“They don’t want Nedging Tye! Martha says there’s no way any of them could bear to live there. Mike’s sisters said something pretty similar. But they want Albert out of the farm. Otherwise, they said, he’ll trap someone else there. And he does have the cottage and a pension from the farm income – we’re not putting him out onto the streets. Though Mike’s sisters said that was all he deserved!” “But what about Martha? Her sisters-in-law are married, with incomes of their own: they’re okay. But Martha hasn’t got a job – hang on a minute though!” Patrick had had an idea.
“Listen: Martha worked – unpaid – as Albert’s housekeeper for about four years, didn’t she? Do you think she would at least accept some back pay?”
“That’s worth a try,” Jenny admitted. “We could always threaten to gift the farm to Timothy if she won’t take any help from us!”
“You’re getting silly! You’re tired. Come to bed before you have any more crazy ideas…” Patrick and Jenny had wanted to clean out the cottage, bring it up to date a little – after all, Albert was an old man, and the move wasn’t going to be easy for him. But he had refused all offers of help.
“No Waterfold is going in my property!”
Angry and confrontational, he had threatened to fight them every step of the way – until they had showed him the statements from his grand-daughters, spelling out all too clearly his violent and abusive past.
“And unless you leave the farm, we will prosecute you. You’re not going to do to yet another person what you did to us.” Albert unlocked the door and went inside.
“There have been Battisfords at Nedging Tye for over two hundred years,” he muttered to himself again.
But in his head, he heard the unwelcome truth that had been spelled out to him.
“There could still have been Battisfords at Nedging Tye. And the reason there aren’t any more is because you were so cruel and unkind to Martha, Claire and Georgina that they can’t bear to set foot in the place again. We would have given it to them, but they don’t want it.” “I always wanted a flower garden. Albert would never let me grow them. Now I’m going to have one.”
Jenny and Patrick had talked Martha into letting them help restore the mill to a decent living standard.
“You do need an inside bathroom. And those window frames are rotten – they’re not safe. Timothy could fall through them. And the stream needs fencing off…”
New clothes and a haircut too – Martha felt freer than she had done for ages. “I still don’t want the farm though. Spend the money on Rowansford itself if you feel it isn’t yours to keep. Mike loved Rowansford, just not Nedging Tye.”
Martha had accepted the back pay though. “Mum, you earned that! Four times over, with blood, sweat and tears. Don’t be daft,” Claire had said, very forthrightly. In the end, she’d put it away, “For if any of you go to university. Dad would have been pleased about that.” Blake loved her so much – his brave, bruised and wounded grey-eyed girl. He didn’t know if she’d ever love him in return – she’d only married him as a way of rescuing her children from Albert. But he loved her – and her children – and he would do all that he could to help them have a better future. Even if that meant letting her go.