What Lies Beneath

Chapter 7

The Present

For over fifty years Ella had been able to push the memories to the back of her mind, but now they came pouring back.

The fact that Geranos was so harmful had been played down by the government.

‘But everyone knew it was absolutely lethal’ said Clem, that night at Ella’s house. ‘Geranos had sulphur mustard in it, only nobody said so at the time. That’s why Priors Bramley was called the Poisoned Village at one stage. Didn’t somebody go in there and get horrible chemical burns or something?’

‘I heard that as well,’ said Veronica. ‘And I remember hearing about the sulphur mustard being dangerous. I used to be worried about my mother putting mustard on ham. Listen, I was only eight,’ she said defensively.

‘Sulphur mustard was used in both World Wars, I think,’ said Clem. ‘But then the government stopped it. I can remember my father saying it had some useful qualities, only I can’t remember what they were.’

‘A lot of harmful things do have good properties if they’re used correctly,’ said Veronica, rather unexpectedly. ‘Arsenic does. I remember reading that.’

‘I suppose,’ said Clem, ‘that everything’s got its dark side, hasn’t it?’

Everything’s got its dark side…

Although the three of them had not talked much about what had happened in Cadence Manor that morning, Ella knew they all remembered it.

She had not really taken any notice of the stuff called Geranos in the beginning; it was just a word, something a plane had dropped on the village, a complicated science thing that the grown-ups probably understood. It was the man who lay at the core of all her nightmares: the man whose face was not quite right, and who had poured out the music in St Anselm’s church and sobbed in that dreadful fashion. Afterwards she dreamed about him lying in the deserted manor house, staring upwards with sightless eyes because nobody had closed them. But she had tried not to think about it, because she would never see him again. She would never go back to Priors Bramley or Cadence Manor.

But she had. One week later she had gone back to Priors Bramley. And afterwards she understood why it came to be called the Poisoned Village.

It had been Saturday afternoon, and Ella had been helping her mother make cakes. As they were putting away the mixing bowls, her mother suddenly said, ‘Ella, where’s your watch? Did you take it off to wash up? Where did you put it?’

Ella stared at her and felt a sickening jolt of panic. The watch, the gold watch that had marked her tenth birthday and that Mum had worked all those extra hours to buy. For a moment she was no longer in the bright kitchen, but in Priors Bramley just seven days ago. She had looked at her watch several times that morning to make sure they would leave before the plane came at midday, and also because she was proud of having such a grown-up birthday present. And then later, seated on Mordwich Bank, watching the plane come over, the watch had no longer been on her wrist. She had not noticed at the time, but standing in the kitchen with the warm scent of cakes baking, she saw her bare wrist as she, Clem and Veronica fed their unwanted sandwiches to the birds.

‘Ella, what’s the matter?’

‘I think,’ said Ella, starting to cry, ‘that I’ve lost it.’

‘Oh, you careless girl. That was a very expensive watch.’

‘I know,’ said Ella, crying harder.

‘Well, try to think when you last had it. We might be able to track it down. There’s no point in crying.’

But Ella could not stop sobbing, and the story of what had happened in Cadence Manor was tumbling out. It was a bit like being sick – you tried to keep it in but it came out of you anyway. The story of how they had gone into Priors Bramley came out like being very sick. She had not meant to tell the part about the man, but she could not help it. Mum did not speak; she simply sat there at the kitchen table, listening.

‘… And when we got up to Mordwich Bank, my watch wasn’t on my wrist any more.’ Ella stopped speaking and she managed to stop crying. She felt empty but oddly better, as if she really had been sick, but she had no idea what was going to happen now. Mum was frowning, not an angry frown, but as if she was trying to think. Ella waited, and after a moment Mum squared her shoulders in the way she did when she was about to do something important.

She said, ‘There’s only one thing for it, Ella. We’ll have to go out there and find your watch. No one need know – we can be there and back without anyone seeing us.’

‘But we can’t,’ said Ella, horrified. ‘It’s all closed up. No one’s allowed in.’

‘I can’t help that. That watch had your initials on it, and the date of your birthday. If that man’s body is found and your watch is with him—’

‘They’d think I killed him?’

‘Well,’ said Ella’s mother, looking at her very directly, ‘did you?’

Ella stared at her, then gave another sob and ran out of the kitchen.

Her mother did not ask the question again. They finished the baking and set out the cakes to cool, then she told Ella to put on her coat because they were going to Priors Bramley. She said it in her firmest voice and Ella knew there was no arguing.

The sun was setting as they walked across Mordwich Meadow. Ella normally liked sunsets, but this one was an angry brownish orange, as if something had clawed at the sky and made it bleed. As they went down the bank the primroses that grew in the clay soil were dull and sad-looking, and when they came in sight of the manor in its dip of land, it was splashed with the same sulky light. Even the crouching outline of the lodge, set apart from it, looked as if it had dried blood on its grey walls. As they got closer there was a too-sweet scent on the air, and Ella shuddered.

‘It’ll be quite safe,’ said her mother, seeing this. ‘I’ll go through the side door in the wall and across the old kitchen gardens. You can wait by the stile.’

‘Everywhere smells horrid,’ said Ella, wrinkling her nose.

‘That’s probably the Geranos. It’s like geranium scent, isn’t it?’

Ella did not say it was making her feel sick.

As they reached the lane with the high wall, in a very small voice, she said, ‘He’ll still be there, won’t he? That man?’

‘If he was dead he will. But you can’t be sure he was dead, you know. It’s very likely he was only knocked out and he got up and walked home.’

No, he didn’t, thought Ella. I know he didn’t. You know it, as well.

‘But don’t worry about it – I’ll find the watch, then no one can ever prove you were here that morning.’

‘Clem and Veronica know I was here.’

‘If it ever comes out I shall say you were with me all day last Saturday,’ said Ella’s mother. ‘I’ll say Clem and Veronica are telling silly lies.’

Ella wanted to find this comforting, but the trouble was that Mum kept saying it. ‘Silly lies, that’s what we’ll say,’ she repeated. ‘All silly lies.’ The third time she said it the words came out sloppily, and Ella saw her eyes had the blurry look that meant she had taken what she called her ‘special medicine’ before coming out. She sometimes took a dose of it if she had to do something difficult or unpleasant; she said it gave her extra strength. Ella thought the medicine might have brandy in it, because it smelled like Christmas pudding.

The side door into the manor grounds was closed. There was a tangle of barbed wire over it – Ella thought that had not been there last week – and a notice saying to keep out.

‘We can’t get in,’ she said in panic.

‘Yes, we can. It won’t be locked, and I’ve brought my gardening gloves to put on so I can unwind the barbed wire.’

‘Are you sure about the – um – Geranos stuff being all right? I mean, really absolutely sure?’ Ella was hating the geranium scent, and now they were closer to the manor a queer brownish haze seemed to hang over everything.

‘Yes, I told you. It’s just a test they’re doing on the plants and wildlife. And they’re only doing it because there’s a delay about the motorway. It’ll be months and months before they start building it, so they don’t want anyone saying the Priors Bramley people were pushed out of their houses too soon. That’s why they’re pretending they need the empty village for an experiment. Only it isn’t important at all, it’s just to fool everyone…’ The words trailed off vaguely and Ella looked at her worriedly. ‘They think they’re fooling everyone, those stupid government people, but they aren’t fooling me. Not a bit, they aren’t. You have to get up very early to do that. Geranos, ha! I’d give them Geranos.’

‘Clem’s father said Geranos was something to do with stopping the Russians from dropping bombs on us,’ said Ella, hoping this would make Mum talk normally again. It was awful when she was all slurry and sloppy like this.

‘Oh, the Russians won’t drop any bombs. Certainly not on us. Clem’s father is a stupid old fool anyway.’

Ella’s mother tugged the barbed wire aside and opened the garden door. The hinges creaked gratingly and, as it swung inwards, Ella had the sudden feeling that a nightmare was opening up. But she could see into the manor grounds and everywhere looked exactly as it had done one week ago, except for the coppery haze that lay everywhere – like a diseased fog, thought Ella. That must be what had tainted the sunset.

Her mother did not seem worried by the copper mist. She went through the gate and across the tangled grass as Ella and the other two had done last Saturday, and then across the cracked pavings surrounding the house. The dust swirled a bit as she disturbed it; Ella saw that in places it lay on the ground in tiny glistening lumps like the top of a rice pudding when the skin got burned.

She sat down on the grass to wait. It shouldn’t take Mum long to find the watch. She had only to go up the stairs and into the room where the three of them had hidden, and then, if the watch was not there, to come downstairs and go into the room off the hall. That was where he was. What would he look like after being dead for a week? Ella had no idea what happened to dead bodies. Would his eyes be open and staring?

The garden door was still partly open, and Ella could see the house – the big doors and the marble pillars on each side. She could see part of the gardens, as well. In autumn there were gentians here, a patch of lovely blue mistiness under a big oak tree, but today the oak looked sick and dusty as if something had shaken masses of pepper over its leaves. The pepperiness was getting into Ella’s throat a bit; it made her cough.

It was very quiet. Usually at this time the evening birdsong was everywhere, but now it was as if even the birds had been smothered. Ella began to feel uneasy; she looked across at the house again, hoping to see her mother come out, hoping against hope the watch would have been found.

And then into this thick tainted silence came a trickle of sound. At first it puzzled Ella, but with dawning horror she realized it was music: threads and curls of sounds, as faint as grey cobwebs that would dissolve if you blew on them.

She sprang to her feet, looking round, her heart starting to pitter-pat with nervousness, because no matter how faint the music was, she recognized it. It was his music, the music he had played and sobbed over inside St Anselm’s church that afternoon. She stood very still, listening intently, wanting to run away as fast as she could, but not daring to move, listening to the music seeping into the sick-smelling gardens. It sounded as if it was being played on a gramophone, but whatever was playing it, there was no mistaking it. Was it coming from inside the house? Or was it from the lodge, a little way along the drive? Did it mean he was still here, that he wasn’t dead?

When her mother appeared between the marble pillars, Ella gave a sob of relief and got to her feet. Mum would know what had happened and what they should do. Here she came, walking quite fast as if she wanted to get away from Cadence Manor and the sad sick village. As she crossed the terrace she stumbled on the uneven surface and Ella started forward, thinking she was going to fall, but Mum waved to her to stay where she was. Ella sat down again on the bit of grass, hugging her knees with her arms. The music had stopped. Ella knew the exact moment it had done so – she had felt the faint thrumming on the air fade into silence.

When her mother reached the gate, she was shaking her head. ‘I couldn’t find it,’ she said. ‘But that’s all right, Ella, because I looked everywhere very thoroughly and if I couldn’t find it, no one else will. We’ll look for it as we go along the lane, though.’

She sounded all right but she looked all wrong. Her face was flushed and she was breathing quickly as if she had been running for a long time or was starting a cold. Ella said, ‘Are you all right?’ and her mother said at once that she was perfectly all right.

‘It was just a bit warm in there. And it’s a bit warm now – don’t you think there’s a lot of heat still in the day?’

Ella had had to wind her scarf tightly round her neck and dig her hands deep into her pockets because she had felt cold while she’d waited. But she said, yes, it was quite warm.

They walked home across Mordwich Bank and along to Upper Bramley, looking on the ground for the glint of gold from the wristwatch, but not seeing it. Once her mother paused and said she would have a little rest, she was becoming so out of breath, and once she stopped and unscrewed the top of the medicine bottle she kept in her handbag, and drank from it. The sun had almost set by this time, but Ella thought her mother’s face looked as if she had been lying in hot sunshine for hours and hours. She was not sure if she should be worried about this.

It was not until they turned into the lane leading down to their cottage that Ella finally managed to say, ‘Did you see him? The man?’

Mum took a few minutes to reply, then she said, ‘Yes, he was there. He must have died at once. Clean and quick and painless. You don’t need to worry about it.’

‘Did anyone seem to be around?’

‘No. The house was deserted.’

‘Yes, I see,’ said Ella. As they went into the house, she thought: but then who was playing his music?

After supper Ella’s mother complained of the heat again. ‘It’s really uncomfortable in here,’ she said, taking off the woollen jacket she had been wearing. ‘It’s making my skin itchy. I wonder if we’re due for a thunderstorm.’

By Ella’s bedtime she was gasping with pain and her eyes were bloodshot. She asked Ella to switch on the light and Ella, feeling a bit scared, said, ‘It’s already on.’

‘The bulb must be going. Or I might have a touch of that eye infection – conjunctivitis. I’ll get some ointment from the chemist’s.’

But by Ella’s bedtime her mother was shivering and moaning, rocking back and forth in the chair. When the light from the standard lamp fell on her face, her eyelids were swollen, and large blisters had formed on her neck and on the side of her face. Once she rubbed at them and to Ella’s horror the blister burst and thick yellow fluid ran out of it.

She said, ‘Mum, you’re ill, really ill. Should I get someone?’ She had no clear idea who she should get, but her mother said, in a hoarse crackly voice, ‘I think you’d better just go along next door and ask them to phone the doctor’s surgery from the call box. Can you do that? Tell them to ask the doctor to come out.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Ella was off like a shot, trying not to shiver with fear, trying not to remember the coppery dust that had been everywhere in Priors Bramley.

‘Chemical burns, by the look of it,’ said the doctor when he arrived an hour later. ‘Very unpleasant. I can’t think how you’d get such a thing in an ordinary domestic environment, though, unless… Have you been near to Priors Bramley in the past twenty-four hours? Ah, that might explain it, then. They’re starting to say that Geranos stuff might be harmful, although nobody’s admitting it outright, not yet at any rate. Still, I’ll report it to the Medical Officer for the county. He might be able to get some details about what it actually contains. That way we’d know what we were treating. I’m afraid we’ll have to take you to hospital, Mrs Ford. But don’t worry, you’ll be all right.’

Ella’s mother was in hospital for three weeks, which everyone said was a long time, but Ella was not to worry, the doctors were marvellous these days and her mother would be fine.

Ella stayed with Veronica for the three weeks. She did not visit her mother; the hospital was twelve miles away anyway, which would have meant two bus journeys. Veronica’s father offered to drive her there, but Ella did not want anyone talking to the doctors or nurses in case it came out about actually being in Priors Bramley and the reason for it. So she said visitors were not allowed, and made up a story about a pan of hot oil, meant for frying fish, tipping over and burning her mother’s neck.

When her mother was finally allowed out of hospital, everyone said how wonderful, and how pleased Ella would be to go back home. Ella did not say she was not particularly pleased. She had liked living in Veronica’s house because it was big and there was a beautiful garden where they had tea on the lawn on Sunday afternoons. Several times, looking around her, Ella thought how much she would like to have a house like this.

Her mother was allowed home on a Monday morning, and Ella was given the day off school to meet her. Veronica’s mother took her shopping first so they could get some nice food as a welcome home. She paid for all the food, buying things Ella’s mother would have said were expensive and extravagant, and rounding it all off with grapes and peaches and a bunch of flowers. Ella could put them in a vase and it would be lovely for her mother to see them when she came in.

The cottage smelled sour and a bit damp, and there were newspapers and letters on the doormat. Ella threw these away and opened the windows to let in some fresh air. Veronica’s mother helped put the food away, and hunted out polish and dusters so they could make the cottage spick and span. Ella began to think it would be nice, after all, to be in her own bedroom again, and she looked forward to seeing her mother’s pleasure at the nice fresh cottage and the food.

But her mother did not seem particularly pleased at anything. She was wearing a thick sweater with a scarf wound round her neck, and her hair was combed forward over her face, which was a new thing. She did not say anything about the flowers or the nicely polished furniture, and she said the food was messy foreign stuff and she was surprised at Ella buying such expensive rubbish. When Ella explained that Veronica’s mother had got the food, her mother said, very sharply, ‘I hope she kept a note of everything so I can pay her back.’

‘I don’t think she meant you to. I think it was a sort of present.’

‘I’m not having charity,’ said Mum, even more sharply. ‘I shall post the money to her, or you must give it to Veronica.’

She ate the food Veronica’s mother had left, picking at it suspiciously and turning it over on her fork. Ella had been looking forward to having this meal with Mum after a whole three weeks, but it was all going wrong.

After they had finished eating, her mother’s hair fell back into its usual place, tucked behind her ears. Ella stared at her in horror. Down the whole of one side of her face were dark lumpy scars, ugly and puckered. When she took off the sweater and scarf, there were more of the same scars down her neck.

Ella tried to look away, but could not, and her mother said, very angrily, ‘Yes, Ella, that’s what the Geranos did to me. It burned my skin and the scars won’t ever fade. You killed that man in Cadence Manor – I know you did – and because of what you did I’m scarred and deformed for ever.’

They never talked about it again. Ella did not dare and her mother did not give her chance.

After she came home from hospital she was different. The doctor told Ella that her mother would have to take things easy for several weeks. He offered to organize visits by people who would help with cooking and shopping, but Ella’s mother said they did not want that, and they would manage. After he had gone, she told Ella she did not want people poking and prying.

Even after the doctor said she was better, she did not bother about keeping the cottage clean or tidy. Dust and grime collected on surfaces and mould grew around the windowpanes in the scullery. Ella, hating the sour, wet smell of the mould, tried to clean things herself while her mother sat bonelessly in the chair, taking surreptitious swigs from the brandy bottle, telling Ella there was no point, everything would get dirty again, and anyway, nobody ever came to the house.

Nobody came to the house because Ella never asked anyone. She had never been ashamed of her home or of her mother, but she began to be now. Several times at school she heard whispers about her mother, and once one of the older girls asked her outright if it was true that her mother had caught a disease from going to bed with men.

Ella had no idea what the girl meant but she was still being very careful not to let anyone know about being in Priors Bramley that day to find her watch. So she tossed her head and said it was a lie, and people who told lies ended in being punished.

After a while she stopped trying to get her mother to go out. If there were school concerts or prize-givings, she no longer brought the details or the dates home. She could not bear anyone to see the unkempt wreck her mother had become, and as well as that she was frightened her mother would talk about that afternoon inside Cadence Manor.

She had no idea what she would do if Priors Bramley were to be opened up again and the body found, nor whether the man’s death could be traced back to her. But as the weeks and then the months went by, the village stayed behind the black barbed wire and the thing that lay inside Cadence Manor remained in its secret tomb. From time to time Ella thought about the cobwebby music that had drifted so eerily across the gardens, but she never heard it again and after a time she managed to push the memory of it into the deepest recesses of her mind. It was part of a nightmare, and as the years passed the nightmare gradually faded.