The Downstairs Maid Read online

  ‘Well, I mustn’t take up any more of your time,’ Harry said and stood up. ‘That cake was delicious, Mrs Carter – the best I’ve tasted in an age. Don’t tell my mother I said so, but her cakes are not a patch on yours.’

  ‘Emily is just as good a cook as me,’ Stella said, giving her daughter a coy look as she came in from the dairy. ‘I’ve taught her all she needs to know about cooking – and looking after a house. She’s a bright girl our Emily.’

  ‘Ma don’t,’ Emily begged and blushed. ‘I’ll see you out, Harry.’

  ‘I shall call for you on Saturday, Emily. I enjoyed myself so much last time we went dancing. Don’t forget to tell your father I’ll send over that harrow I promised him tomorrow.’

  ‘You want to watch that one,’ Derek said darkly as the door closed behind Standen and Emily came back to the table.

  ‘Well, Emily,’ her mother said as she started to clear the table. ‘He must be keen, because that’s the second time he’s asked you out since Christmas. Dancing again, is it? You are a sly cat! When should we expect the wedding?’

  ‘Nothing like that is going on,’ Emily denied, her cheeks warm. ‘Mr Standen is always friendly when he calls in to see Pa, and yes, he’s asked me out again – but he’s never said anything about us getting married …’

  ‘He doesn’t need to say. You can see what he thinks by the way he looks at you. He likes you, Emily. Play your cards right and you could end up being Mrs Harry Standen.’

  ‘I wouldn’t count my chickens,’ Derek said harshly. ‘A man like that has his choice of all the girls. You be careful, Emily. Just keep your legs crossed and you’ll be all right.’

  ‘Derek! Don’t be so crude,’ his sister rebuked. ‘She knows better than to allow any man liberties. Besides, I think Harry Standen has marriage on his mind. Well, well, I never expected a chance like this, Emily.’

  ‘I’m off.’ Derek scraped back his chair. He couldn’t listen to this. If he stayed another minute he would wipe the satisfied smile off his sister’s face. How dare she push Emily at that bastard Standen when Derek was sick with love for her? Getting up, he left, slamming the kitchen door behind him.

  Emily was a fool if she settled for that bastard. Derek knew he could never have her but the thought of her with another man turned his guts to water.

  Derek waited across the road from the Golden Hen. The pub was busy that evening, noise and laughter spilling out as the door opened and a group of farm workers went in. It was bitter out here, his breath making little clouds on the frosty air. Carla was taking her time about coming out to him and he was frozen. He ground his teeth in frustration, because he didn’t want to be here standing in the dark with his balls nearly frozen off. It had been dripping wet earlier but now the paths were getting slippery and the trees were coated with tiny icicles. What the hell was he doing here? He would much rather be at home in his own kitchen in the warm. Why he’d ever got involved with the greedy little bitch he didn’t know. He must have been drunk or out of his mind. Seeing Carla slip out of the side door, glance back and then run across to join him in the shadows, he felt no sense of satisfaction or pleasure. He was bored with her. The prospect of taking her down had lost its appeal and he was damned if he was going to be stuck with her for the rest of his life.

  ‘You took your time.’

  ‘Pa was in and out of the bar all night. He kept asking me to fetch things for him and I couldn’t get away. I had to pretend I had a headache and then he told me to go to bed. He’d kill me if he knew I’d come out to see you.’

  ‘Why bother then?’ Derek’s manner was rough but he was past caring. ‘It was a bit of fun for a while but it’s no fun standing here in the cold. We’ll call a halt to it and then your pa needn’t know what we’ve been doing.’

  ‘Don’t be like that,’ Carla said and pressed herself against him. She smelled of some cheap perfume that made his nostrils sting. Emily always smelled like flowers. Why wasn’t she Emily? It was Emily he wanted. ‘I love you, Derek. I’m sorry I kept you waiting. You know all I want is to be with you. You love me too – leastwise, you said you did when you wanted me to let you do it.’

  ‘It was all right for a while,’ Derek said. ‘It’s over now. We’ve had our fun and we’ll quit while we can. Besides, I’m going away for a bit …’

  ‘Take me with you,’ Carla begged, clinging to him. Her lovely face was pale in the half-light, desperate. ‘You can’t leave me here alone – my pa will kill me when I start to show. I told you I was having your baby.’

  ‘That’s rubbish,’ Derek said but looked at her uneasily. ‘You can’t be pregnant yet. It doesn’t happen that quick. We’ve only done it a few times.’

  ‘I don’t know how long it takes but I’m sure I’m having a baby. My courses haven’t come. I’m a week late and I feel different.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean anything. You’ve probably just got a chill or something. You’ll start tomorrow and everything will be all right.’

  ‘No, it won’t if you’re not here.’ Carla’s eyes filled with tears and she rubbed at her cheeks. ‘It isn’t fair. You promised you loved me. You kept on until I agreed to do it and now … you don’t want me any more. You’re a beast, Derek Black – and I shan’t let you leave me like this. If you go off without me I’ll tell my father. He’ll come after you and knock your head off.’

  Her expression now had changed, becoming angry and spiteful, her mouth thin with temper and her eyes sharp like a cat’s. He thought she looked ugly and wondered why she couldn’t look more like Emily.

  ‘If he can find me,’ Derek sneered. ‘What makes you think I’d want to marry a cheap little tart like you?’

  They had walked away from the pub and the houses, towards the field, which was sheltered by a high hedge, and the barn where they’d met to make love in the shelter of the straw bales the farmer stored there. It would be warm inside, away from this bitter night, but they didn’t get that far. Carla whirled on him, pulling at his coat lapels in a frenzy. She was crying and hitting at him, spittle on her mouth as she accused him of never caring for her.

  ‘You’re hateful and I’m going to make sure you suffer now,’ she said and she suddenly ripped the front of her dress. ‘I’m going back to the house and I’ll tell my father that you raped me. He’ll come straight after you and he’ll kill you. You won’t have a chance to get away.’

  Derek was certain she was right. He stared at her for a moment and then grabbed her by the throat. ‘You little bitch. You just keep your mouth shut, do you hear me? Breathe one word of this to your father and I’ll make you sorry you were ever born.’

  Derek had lost his temper. He was no longer thinking clearly. She was the cause of all his troubles and if the little slut thought he was going to be blackmailed into marrying her, she had another thing coming.

  Her fingers were clawing at his hand as he held her by the throat, her nails scraping the skin. She was gasping something, her face turning red and then purple. He shook her once by the neck, lifting her off her feet, and then let go. She fell to the ground like a stone and just lay there not moving, her long hair spread out on the ground. For a few seconds Derek stared down at her in disbelief.

  ‘Get up you silly cow. Keep your mouth shut and I shan’t hurt you. I was just teaching you a bit of a lesson. Get up now …’

  Carla didn’t move. Derek caught his breath and dropped to one knee, bending over her. He turned her and her head lolled to one side. Her neck was broken. Derek didn’t know his own strength. He glanced at his large hands, as if he hadn’t known what they were capable of. He’d killed her. He hadn’t meant to do more than give her a scare, but she was dead. He was a murderer.

  Derek could feel the cold sweat trickling down his spine. What was he going to do? Standing up, he looked about him. Had anyone seen him waiting for her? Had they been noticed as they walked to the field?

  It was a cold night, too cold for folk to be standing about. He’d only seen tho
se farm workers go into the pub and they hadn’t noticed him in the shadows across the road. Maybe he could get away with it – if he ran now. No, he mustn’t panic. If he was seen running people might put two and two together when her body was discovered. He must walk. He must go home and stay there – pretend that he’d been there all night if anyone were to ask him.

  Who would ask? No one knew he’d been seeing Carla. She’d kept it secret because her father would have thrashed her if he’d known. All Derek had to do was to keep his nerve. Just go home and carry on as usual. After a few weeks he’d sell up and leave the area. He’d been thinking that it would suit him, to travel for a while – and he couldn’t live here now. It would haunt him, what he’d done … murdered a girl …

  No, it wasn’t murder; it was an accident. Derek fought the panic that was rising inside him. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, not really. He didn’t know his own strength. It was her fault for struggling like that … if she hadn’t pulled away from him it wouldn’t have happened.

  Derek had been walking for a few minutes. He was away from the site of his wicked deeds and now he couldn’t stop the panic. He began to run as fast as he could, across fields, scrambling over stiles and gates, avoiding the roads. The clouds had rolled across the sky and it was pitch black. From time to time he stumbled and once he fell face down, grazing his cheek, but he got up at once and kept on running, heading for home. He ran and ran and ran until his chest burned and he had to stop. Then he began to think. No one was going to suspect him. Why should they?

  If he held his nerve he would be in the clear. He began to walk more slowly across the fields, and then he smiled. He’d shown that little bitch who was the master – and now he was free.

  Derek spent the night hanging on to his nerves by his fingernails. He kept thinking the police would come and arrest him, but when morning came and still no one arrived, he began to relax. He worked on his farm, as always, speaking naturally to his neighbours and behaving as if nothing had happened.

  No one could know he’d been seeing Carla, because she’d been too frightened of her father to tell anyone.

  As the day wore on he began to feel safe. By evening he was sure he was going to get away with it and he laughed inwardly. He’d shown that little bitch! He was too clever to get caught and he decided that he wouldn’t run away, because that might look suspicious. If the police had any idea he’d been meeting Carla they would have been here by now.

  He decided to walk to his sister’s home and see if Emily had come back from her night out with Harry Standen yet. If she were in her bedroom, he would stand in the yard and watch her undress. Emily always drew her curtains at night but the material was thin and if she had the light on he could see the shape of her body … he licked his lips at the thought and smiled.

  He saw them standing outside the kitchen door smiling at each other. Derek couldn’t get close enough to hear what they were saying without risking being seen and he didn’t want anyone to know he was there. As he lurked in the shadows he saw Standen reach out and draw her close; their kiss was deep and intimate and it sent Derek wild with jealous rage. His hands balled at his sides and it was all he could do to stop himself going after Standen right then – but he had to wait until Emily went inside.

  After she closed the door behind her, Standen stood outside grinning. Derek gritted his teeth. He would soon wipe the smile from that bugger’s face. He followed silently as Standen went off whistling.

  Lost in his own thoughts, Derek’s victim didn’t realise that there was someone behind him until Derek jumped on him. In the dark Standen couldn’t see who was attacking him and he got little chance to fight back, because Derek struck him a blow on the side of the head with a brick he’d picked up. As Standen lay on the ground half conscious, Derek went in with the boot as hard as he could.

  Derek was panting when he stopped kicking his victim. He’d lost his temper when he saw the damned scoundrel kissing Emily. If she’d pushed him away or smacked the rogue round the face Derek might not have been so angry, but to see her giving the rotten bugger what she had denied him made his guts boil with rage.

  She was his! If he couldn’t have her he wasn’t going to let someone like this idiot spoil her innocence. Was she daft enough to think he would marry her – a man like Harry Standen? With all his money he could have anyone. He would take Emily down and then desert her – the way Derek had Carla.

  The memory of what he’d done to Carla sent a chill down his spine. So far he was in the clear but for how long? He certainly couldn’t bring himself to visit the Golden Hen and hear the talk about Carla. Because he’d seen hardly anyone all day, he wasn’t sure if her body had been discovered, though he was sure it must have been. He’d left her lying where she fell and someone was sure to find her pretty quickly.

  Derek’s throat went dry. He ran his tongue over his lips. In his fury at seeing Harry Standen kissing Emily he had forgotten he’d already committed one murder. Had his temper led him to kill again? He was about to bend down and examine his victim when he heard a groan. Harry Standen was still alive, though he would be black and blue from his bruises in the morning. Served him right for trying to turn Emily’s head. Well, Derek certainly wasn’t going to hang around and ask if he could get home on his own.

  Setting off at a good pace across the fields, Derek felt pleased with himself. He’d shown that little bitch what he thought of her and now he’d given Standen a good hiding. The fool didn’t have a clue as to who or what had attacked him. It was like taking sweets from a baby. No one was going to come after him. He could do what he liked …

  His feeling of invincibility began to grow in his mind as he strode through the darkness and he laughed. He was too clever for the law, too clever for Standen – and if he got a chance he’d show that stuck-up little miss where she stood too.

  Emily wasn’t the innocent he’d thought her. To think he’d felt ashamed of what he’d thought about her that day in the dairy. She was just like all the other cheap tarts, gagging for it with the first man to notice her.

  A smile touched his mouth. He wasn’t going to stay around here much longer so he didn’t give a damn what Stella thought. He’d bide his time until he was ready, but before he left he’d show Emily who was the master …

  Chapter 11

  The local papers were full of the murder of Carla Bracknell and the story made a few of the nationals too. Emily was so shocked she couldn’t believe it had happened. People didn’t get murdered in their little village. Pa came home from Ely market the following Thursday shaking his head over the fact that something like that could happen to someone they knew.

  ‘I went to see Josh at the pub. He’s devastated, Em. You remember Carla, don’t you? She brought you a glass of lemonade out when I bought that Victorian love seat from her father.’

  ‘Yes, I remember,’ Emily said. She felt an icy chill at her nape as she recalled what the girl had said to her when they sat on Pa’s wagon outside the pub. ‘Do the police know who did it?’

  ‘They’re making inquiries. Apparently, Josh thinks it might have been a gypsy. He had a gang of them making trouble in the pub a few nights earlier and he sent them packing – but what he can’t understand is why she went outside at that time of night. Also, the police said the gypsies had left the area.’

  ‘Perhaps she went to meet someone – a man?’ Emily said. Ought she to tell what she knew? Her conscience nagged at her, because it might help find the killer, but Carla hadn’t told her much – just that she had a lover. But if she told her father it might stir up a hornets’ nest. Josh would be angry if anyone suggested his daughter might be no better than she ought to be. What good could it do to distress him further when Emily didn’t know the name of the man his daughter had been seeing?

  Emily turned away to clear some dirty plates into the sink, feeling deeply troubled. Something else was nagging at the back of her mind but she didn’t know what it was. If she’d thought she could help the
police it was her duty to speak up, but she might just be wasting their time. She decided that she would do better to keep her mouth shut on this occasion, because she didn’t really know anything.

  She listened as her parents talked about the terrible tragedy. Ma was anxious and Pa was upset for his friend. Carla was only just eighteen and Pa was troubled as he looked at Emily.

  ‘It might have been anyone’s daughter … even you, Em.’

  A pot was hissing on the stove. Ma made a dash to move it before it boiled over. They all looked at one another uncomfortably, the sense of menace close and frightening for a moment.

  ‘Emily doesn’t go out alone at night,’ Ma said, breaking the silence at last. ‘Harry Standen is a decent bloke. If I didn’t trust him I wouldn’t let her go …’

  ‘Yes …’ Pa nodded but still looked troubled. ‘Harry was attacked the other night but he’s all right. When I saw him in the market he said it was nothing … seemed a bit embarrassed over it.’

  Emily frowned. Who would want to attack Harry? He was such a friendly, pleasant man. She would have liked to question her father further but the subject was closed.

  ‘You just be careful, Em. Don’t you go walking far from home on your own, until the police catch the culprit,’ her father warned.

  ‘I shan’t,’ Emily promised him. She felt shivery all over. Carla had struck her as being a rather silly girl, but she hadn’t deserved to be murdered. ‘Mrs Smith came for a jug of milk earlier, Pa. She said that Miss Amy Barton was going steady with Sir Arthur Jones. Do you know him?’

  ‘He has been in the shop a couple of times,’ Pa said. ‘That reminds me. Christopher wants to know if you’ll go to the tea dance on Saturday afternoon with him. I told him yes, provided he brings you home on the bus and walks you to the door. Was that all right?’