Page 51 of Beatrix

She’d told the peeler she’d try find out what she could, but she was going to do better than that. She’d lead them back into this cesspit herself, and once they’d freed Billy and all the kids, she’d burn the bloody place to the ground.

* * *

The light was fading by the time the Shacklefords got close to the main gate at the Grange. The walk from Axbridge had been conducted for the most part in silence with every person lost in their own thoughts. Indeed, the only member of the party that appeared to be getting any enjoyment at all was Aggie.

Once they arrived, however, the grumbling came thick and fast. The thought of spending the next couple of hours sat on nothing but a blanket filled no one with joy, and apprehension about the hours to come made everyone edgy and quarrelsome. But at the end of the day, there was nothing to be done. Charlotte was especially belligerent, so much so that any onlooker might be forgiven for thinking she’d sat in a cowpat.

After fifteen minutes, Henry had finally had enough. He reminded her that she wasn’t in her dotage quite yet, and if they managed to pull this off, they’d have succeeded in dealing with the immediate threat and put a bloody great big spanner in Jacob White’s ambitions.

To his surprise, she merely sniffed at his blunt assessment, only adding that she hoped he wasn’t labouring under any illusions that stopping the auction would stop the man…

Beatrix, meanwhile, sat slightly to one side, back-to-back with Bernice. Bea was facing the distant folly, now almost merging into the surrounding shadows. She wondered how Rob was faring. Certainly, he couldn’t have imagined that coming to Paignton would result in him taking part in a dangerous rescue. She wondered if he regretted it. Abruptly, almost as if she’d spoken her thoughts aloud, Bea felt her twin’s hand seek hers. Words weren’t necessary as they continued to sit, each drawing comfort from the other’s touch.

The light had almost disappeared when Aggie abruptly lifted her head and began growling. The sudden rustling that followed had everyone but Charlotte jumping to their feet. Seconds later Arnold appeared.

‘The guard’s settlin’ in fer the night. ‘I don’t reckon ‘e’s expectin’ any trouble since - beggin yer pardon ladies - ‘e’s trumpin’ like a goodun.’ He turned towards Henry, entirely unconcerned that his words had rendered the female members of the party speechless.

‘My guess is ‘e’ll be diggin’ an ‘ole in the next ‘alf ‘our,’ Arnold went on, ‘an’ while it don’t sit well disturbin’ a bloke’s ablutions, I reckon that’ll be our best chance to put ‘im ter bed all quiet like. We’ll even ‘ave a ready-made ‘ole to put ‘im in…’

For a few seconds, there was absolute silence. Henry of course was more than familiar with the seedier side of life, and absurdly he found himself fighting the urge to chuckle as he imagined his sibling’s current expression. However, he didn’t waste time in berating the large man for his crudeness. Instead, he focused on the putting to bed part. ‘I’d prefer to simply render the man insensible if that’s at all possible,’ he said sternly. ‘There have been more than enough deaths during this business as it is.’

Arnold shook his head without hesitation. ‘You spare this cull’s life, and you risk the ‘ole business collapsin’ round our ears. Who’d you prefer to see grinnin’ at daisy roots - an evil bastard who’s bin aidin’ and abettin’ the sellin’ o’ kids, or your ‘ole bloody family?’

* * *

Although they’d been half expecting Jem and Spry not to turn up, the two men were ready and waiting at the edge of the deer park. Unfortunately, the miasma surrounding Jem was every bit as bad, but neither man appeared to notice it.

Knowing there was no point in mentioning it, the other contented themselves by breathing through their mouths as much as possible and making sure they weren’t downwind.

As they got closer to the breach, Ben spoke in low tones. ‘We wait until ten, then we go in as quietly as we can. Remember to keep your eyes peeled.

‘Jem, if it’s all the same, we’ll leave the dogs to you’

The taciturn man nodded. ‘They’ll smell me comin’ is all,’ he murmured, ‘but nowt can be done about that. We’ll jus’ ‘ave to ‘ope they’re at sixes an’ sevens over the smell o’ fresh liver.’

Realising it was far too late to mention the fact that the liver in Jem’s pocket was anything but fresh, Ben gritted his teeth and turned to Spry. ‘We can only hope that Gladys managed to leave the door unlocked, or at least a note as to how many guards there are. Obviously we can’t count on it, so have your lock picks at the ready, Spry.’ A nod was all he received in return.

‘Even if the back door’s been left unlocked, it’s almost certain the children will be locked in -poppy or no,’ Rob reminded them.

‘Well, let’s just hope Gladys and Billy have found out where,’ Rhys added.

A few minutes later, the wall came into view and Ben took his time walking along it. The only light now was a thin line on the horizon. The moon had not yet fully risen, increasing the chance of a broken leg or worse.

The policeman’s triumphant ‘Here it is’ only prompted a momentary relief as a dark shape suddenly rose from the overgrown foliage.

‘I ‘ope you gentlemen are ready to dust a few jackets,’ Gladys declared, her grin barely visible in the gloom.

‘Where’s Billy?’ Rhys growled, feeling suddenly sick.

‘They’ve locked ‘im up,’ the barmaid responded, ‘jus’ like we knew they would. But ‘e’s safe fer the moment.’ She clambered back through the breach, saying, ‘We ain’t got no time to lose. There’s four guards in the folly, all wi’ barkin’ irons.’ Muttered expletives acknowledged her announcement as the rest of the party climbed after her.

‘Afore you get jumpy, the one wots bin usin’ this trail works in the kitchen. She’s one o’ the orphans - bloody terrified she is, but she’s the one who tol’ me about the guards an’ showed me this way out. Reckon they’d be diggin’ an ‘ole fer me if I’d left through the front door...’

‘Can we trust her?’ Ben prodded.

Gladys grunted, walking cautiously along the faint track. ‘I told ‘er we’d get ‘em all out. An’ since there ain’t bin another offer ‘alf as good, I reckon she’ll play the game. Anyway, the back door should be open an’ I know where they’re keeping the kids.’

She went on to describe what had happened to her and Billy after they’d entered the folly. ‘There’s one other I reckon we all need to be chary of. A woman by the name of Mrs Bridgers. A more bloody evil crone I’ve never come across – an’ that’s sayin’ summat. She’s some kind of ‘ousekeeper who looks after the kids. As far as I can tell, lookin’ after means never lettin’ em see the light o’ day. She wos the one who took Billy and ordered me out. If I’d gone out the way we came in, I’d never ‘ave made it past the front gate.’