‘Uncovered any skeletons then?’ David asked brightly.
Jolted by his words, Amelia almost spilled her drink. ‘What did you say?’
‘Sorry, bad joke.’
‘Well, as a matter of fact, I don’t think it’s funny,’ Amelia retorted, provoked by his jibe, and without warning she began to cry. ‘Grace wouldn’t let it rest. She insisted we dig underneath the headstone, you know, the one we told you about.’
David knew immediately to what she was referring. ‘I see.’
‘I shouldn’t have snapped at you, I’m sorry.’ Amelia wiped her tears away. David took her hand in his and patted it gently. Finding the gesture a little patronising she withdrew her hand. ‘I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m not like this usually.’
‘I take it from your distress that you’ve found something?’
‘Yes, it looks like a coffin.’ Amelia’s voice quivered. ‘It was such a shock. Grace wants to open it and I’m frightened she’ll be proved right and there’s a body inside.’ She looked at David, her eyes still moist from tears. ‘I want to go to the police, but if it does turn out to be someone’s pet, we’d be wasting their time. I’m at my wit’s end and don’t know what to do for the best.’
It was all Lanceley could do to stop himself from taking her into his arms, but he’d noticed the swift removal of her hand from his and the rebuff hurt. ‘So how can I help?’
‘Will you be there in the garden with us when we open it, please, just in case it does contain human remains?’
Clearly disappointed she only needed him in his capacity as vicar, David reassured her. ‘Of course, I’ll do anything I can to help. When were you thinking of attempting it?’
‘If it stays dry Grace wants to do it tomorrow afternoon.’ Amelia shrugged, indicating the decision was out of her hands. ‘Would you like to come for lunch and then we could make a start straight after.’ David nodded in agreement and Amelia added, ‘About one o’clock would be ideal.’
‘I’ll see you then.’ Reverend Lanceley’s mind was already contemplating the outcome.
Chapter 18
David Lanceley arrived at Primrose Cottage travelling pillion on the back of Nathan’s motorbike. ‘I believe you already know Nathan Brock,’ he said to Amelia, taking off a crash helmet and fluffing his hair. Watching him, Amelia thought the action effeminate. ‘I’ve brought Nathan along to help. I hope you don’t mind,’ he added.
Amelia turned to Nathan and smiled. ‘You were in the pub the other evening.’ She led both men into the kitchen where Grace waited.
The meal, simple spaghetti bolognaise, had to be divided into four now, so Amelia put extra pasta onto boil and rearranged the place settings on the table.
Grace glanced up and said a polite hello to both visitors. Nathan stacked his motorcycle gear in a corner of the room then stood to one side, unsure what to do.
‘Have you done this sort of thing before then?’ Grace asked.
‘What, digging up a coffin, no way.’ Nathan’s words in his strong Cheshire accent were accompanied by a facial expression indicating disgust.
Amelia dished out the meal and watched Nathan tucking heartily into his food.
She wondered if he lived alone. She smiled when he caught her eye. ‘Did you volunteer for this job, Nathan, or were you coerced into it?’
‘He’s only going to help me with the heavier work,’ David answered, battling with spaghetti that refused to stay put on his fork.
‘It’s just a shallow box; I don’t expect it weighs much. We could probably lift it out by ourselves,’ Amelia emphasised.
Grace nodded in agreement. ‘We don’t fancy opening it though. By the way, I found something which may belong to you.’ Grace handed him the piece of paper she had found.
Lanceley took a fleeting look at the paper and paled. He remembered clearly the day he’d dropped it and where.
‘It looks like part of a plan for the cemetery. Is it?’ Grace took the paper back out of his hand then pointed to one of the squares. ‘This one has the initials JF. Do they stand for John Farrell?’
‘It’s the plan for a section of unhallowed ground just outside the graveyard walls, and yes, John Farrell is buried there,’ Reverend Lanceley said seriously.
‘Unhallowed?’ Amelia asked.
‘He committed suicide.’ Lanceley set his fork and spoon straight on his plate, suddenly losing his appetite.
‘I can fill you in on what happened if you like.’ Nathan pushed his plate away, his meal finished.
David got up and walked over to his boots and began pulling them on. ‘Let’s get the grave thing sorted first,’ he said. He retrieved his coat from behind the door and stood looking at them. ‘Come on, someone lead the way. Let’s get this done.’
Amelia looked at the vicar in disappointment. He had known about John Farrell all along. And why the rush, they had all afternoon.
Grace led the way. Everything was how they had left it, and Amelia and Grace hung back while David and Nathan examined the wooden box in the hole. Carefully they lifted it out and set it down again gently on a flat piece of turf.
‘Should we fill in the hole,’ Amelia asked, feeling the need to do something useful.
‘Not yet. We may want to bury it again in a minute.’ Inappropriately Nathan laughed. Grace glared at him, finding his flippancy irritating. ‘It’s more than likely one of Lillian’s cats. She was always taking in the odd stray,’ Nathan told them.
‘You knew Lillian?’ Grace said.
Nathan nodded and glanced over at David who was crouched down beside the box and appeared not to be listening. ‘Don’t see what else it could be anyway, she never had a dog,’ he smirked.
‘What did you say?’ Grace said sharply, deciding she didn’t like Nathan after all.
‘Leave it Grace, we’ll know soon enough, won’t we?’ Amelia said softly. ‘Would you mind opening it now please, David?’ she added.
David looked up and held her eye for a split second. His expression was unfathomable but enough to convey his uneasiness. He began to ease a screwdriver under the lid. The wood was understandably rotten and gave way easily to the pressure. The middle section came away in one large piece and left a gap wide enough to see inside. Fumbling for his handkerchief David held it to his nose. After a quick glance inside he stood and stepped away from the box, feeling nauseous. This wasn’t what he had been expecting.
‘What is it?’ Grace didn’t want him to say a cat or any other animal, and she wished for the only alternative. Grace hoped, if hope could be a fitting expectation in a situation such as this, for answers. Her ghosts needed to be laid to rest and finding the remains of a cat or dog just wouldn’t do it. Also it would justify her insistence on exhuming the coffin. Before David had summoned up the courage to tell them, Grace knelt over the coffin. Amelia looked over Grace’s shoulder, her hands to her mouth.
A baby’s skull, and minuscule skeletal arms and legs all lay in the disintegrated remnants of a nightgown, but what stunned her was the skeleton underneath the baby’s bones. For the first time since they’d found the gravestone, Amelia began to believe Grace. Speechless she placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder and tried to shake off the feeling they were being watched.
Reverend Lanceley replaced and secured the lid to the coffin and with Nathan’s help lowered it back into the hole. While the others headed back to the cottage, the Reverend said a quiet prayer over the coffin, then made the sign of the cross and hurried after them.
Chapter 19
‘What shall we do now? Telephone the police?’ Amelia spoke to no one in particular. The others nodded absently. They were sitting in silence inside the warm kitchen, too stunned for normal conversation. Amelia had already made two pots of strong coffee laced with brandy to warm them and compose their nerves. ‘Sorry you’ve been dragged into this Nathan,’ she said kindly. ‘Are you feeling better now?’
‘Not really.’ Nathan shook his head in bewilderment, the spaghetti bolognaise still churning in his stomach. ‘I think I’ll head home if you don’t mind.’
‘You can’t go anywhere until we’ve notified the authorities and I don’t think we should put it off any longer.’ David glanced at their expectant faces, silently nominating him for the job. With a sigh he went into the hall to use the land line.
While they waited for the police to arrive, Nathan told Amelia and Grace a little about himself. He wasn’t a student after all as Amelia had supposed, but aged twenty-five and working for solicitors in Chester.
‘I live in an apartment overlooking Chester race course,’ he informed them.
David returned from telephoning the police and sounding as though he envied Nathan, said, ‘Yes, it’s all very modern and minimalistic.’
‘I have minimal possessions,’ Nathan responded unpretentiously.
‘Now might be a good time to tell Amelia and Grace what you know about John Farrell,’ David suggested, raising his eyebrows, surreptitiously passing the buck.
Nathan was slouched in an armchair. He reached over to a small table in front of him and lifting a mug of coffee up to his lips he took a sip.
‘Yes, okay.’ He looked at Amelia and Grace and added, ‘Don’t get all uppity with me though. I’m just telling you what I’ve been told. It may have gathered a few Chinese whispers along the way, but the gist of it is this.’ Nathan hesitated and took another sip of coffee. They were in the living room. Amelia and Grace were together on the large sofa, perched on the edges of their seats, taking comfort from each other’s presence. David had distanced himself and taken a chair near the window. He sat upright, tensed, as if ready to bolt. Nathan eyed the girls and David over the rim of his mug. He sifted through conversations he’d had with his grandmother over the years, wondering where to begin. Then sensing Grace’s impatience he made a start.
‘The year before my grandmother was born, there was a scandal involving the Farrells. The Farrells worked in one way or another for Sir Edmund Deverell at Tapscott Manor. Laurence Deverell, one of Sir Edmund’s twin sons, was found dead in Oakham Wood in the summer of 1911, and John Farrell was accused of his murder and subsequently arrested.
‘We know all that,’ Grace interrupted.
‘Oh! Do you want me to carry on or not?’
‘Yes, please do,’ Amelia said, giving Grace a look that implied patience was needed.
‘Okay. The police had no real evidence to incriminate him, so eventually they let him go. However, everybody in the village believed he was guilty. A few months after his release from prison, John Farrell was found hanged in Oakham Wood in almost the same spot Laurence’s body was found. The police took it as a sign of his guilt.’ Nathan hesitated.
Amelia understood now why her father had never spoken of his grandparents. What was there to impart to his daughters but shame.
‘That’s very interesting, but why was he a suspect and blamed?’ Grace said impatiently. ‘Wasn’t there anyone else under suspicion besides him?’
‘Let Nathan finish,’ David said.
Amelia looked at David in surprise. ‘You’ve known about this all along, haven’t you? Why didn’t you mention it before?’ Amelia demanded.
David looked down at his hands. He was getting fed up with her badgering. ‘What could I say that wouldn’t have upset you? I was waiting for the right time, and this seems it, don’t you think.’
Nathan sneaked a glance at the time on his mobile. He was parched and could do with a proper drink. He wondered if he’d be able to get away before the Nags Head closed.
‘Carry on, Nathan,’ Grace said, giving David Lanceley a seething look.
Nathan sighed. ‘A few months after John Farrell was found hanged; a woman who worked at Tapscott Manor overheard a conversation between Jim Farrell, John’s eldest son, and Leo Deverell. The gist of the conversation was that John and Ellen Farrell’s baby, a girl named Grace, born a month after John died, was in fact their daughter Amy’s child, and Laurence Deverell was the father.’
Nathan gave Amelia and Grace a moment to let it sink in. He glanced at David, wondering if he wanted to say anything. David looked back at him briefly, but looked away again quickly, and with folded arms sat hunched in the chair. Nathan picked up his coffee mug but it was empty. He put it back on the coffee table and looked over at Amelia hopefully.
Amelia shook her head. ‘Not yet. Tell us the rest first, please.’
Grace frowned when the name of Amy’s baby was mentioned: another Grace. Trying to put the pieces together she asked, ‘Are you saying that John killed Laurence because he had seduced Amy?’
‘I’m not saying anything. This is only what I’ve been told,’ Nathan emphasised. Then to David, he said, ‘Do you want to add anything before I say anymore?’
‘No, leave me out of this, please,’ Lanceley said, unable to meet Amelia’s eye.
‘Just tell us, Nathan,’ Grace said, almost shouting.
‘Leo had married and his wife, Sylvia, had miscarried. Leo was desperate for an heir so he agreed to exchange the deeds to Primrose Cottage for Grace. As far as Jim was concerned it gave a secure home for Ellen, Lillian and Harry. Leo took the baby, changed her name to Sophia, and brought her up as his own daughter, a Deverell. That’s all I know,’ Nathan concluded.
Amelia gasped at the mention of her grandfather Harry. It gave the story a credibility which she couldn’t ignore.
David stood and walked out of the room, and they heard him go upstairs, presumably to the bathroom.
‘What happened to Jim?’ Amelia asked. This was the first time they had heard about him.
Nathan shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. My Gran might know.’ He looked at Grace’s pensive face and taking the opportunity while David was out of the room, said, ‘Do you realise that if Lillian Farrell was Sophia Deverell’s aunt, you are related to Sophia Deverell as well.’
It took a moment for Grace to get the connection. ‘Grace, or Sophia as she was renamed, was Amy Farrell and Laurence Deverell’s daughter, brought up by her uncle Leo.’
Nathan nodded. ‘Not was, is. Sophia Deverell is still alive.’
Amelia and Grace looked at Nathan, stunned.
A few minutes later David returned, and Nathan got up and went into the conservatory. He stood looking out of the window, glad to stop for breath. He’d said he’d told them all he knew, although that wasn’t strictly true. There was more, but it would have to wait for another day. He saw lights coming along Marsh Lane. Nathan walked back into the living room.