Evie by Julia Stoneham Read Free Book Online Page B

him. ‘I keep forgetting it’s been milkmaids and cowman’s wives since you were widowed, hasn’t it!’ They exchanged wry smiles. ‘So you think Norman will be arrested?’ Alice asked, more seriously.
    ‘I’m sure of it. It can only be a matter of time before they find him. There were witnesses to his attack on Giorgio in Coventry and plenty of evidence of Evie’s injuries, plus the mystery of the mother’s death.’
    ‘Evie said she was ill and obviously needed medical attention …’
    ‘He has a lot to answer for, that bastard.’
     
    Days passed without incident. The repairs to the wall round the slurry pit were almost complete. On the fourth day Dave had taken the tractor up to the higher farm to fetch a load of coping stones, while Ferdinand Vallance sat contentedlymunching his way through the sandwiches his wife had cut for him that morning. Orphaned at nine, crippled by a rolling tractor at fourteen, Ferdie had surprised the world by finding his life’s partner in Mabel Hodges, who, overweight and underwashed, had been one of Alice’s girls, arriving at the hostel the day it opened its doors to the first intake of ill-assorted young women. Instantly drawn to one another, their shared disregard for personal hygiene adding to their mutual attraction, two happy events had eventually taken place in the form of twins, Scarlet O’Hara and Winston Ferdinand, who, added to Mabel’s son, ‘little Arthur’ – the result of an undisclosed, previous impregnation – completed, for the time being at any rate, the Vallance family.
    Stuffing the last of his sandwich into his mouth, Ferdie smiled at Hester who was approaching the slurry pit with a mug in her hand.
    ‘A cuppa with your elevenses, Ferdie?’ she asked him.
    ‘Ta, but this be me twelvses,’ he confessed, with his mouth full. ‘A bit on the early side I daresay, on’y I were feeling peckish’. For a while the two of them sat on the low wall, he munching and sipping and both catching up on the latest news concerning Evie, whose story was proving excellent material for gossip and speculation.
    ‘Reckon she be a bit sly, that one,’ Ferdie said. ‘All those months, creepin’ round the countryside with an Eyetie.’ Ferdie had lowered his mug and was squinting into the sharp sunlight. ‘Who be that then …?’ he said.
    Making its way down the lane towards Lower Post Stone, the figure of a man could be glimpsed through the thinningautumn foliage. He was heavily built and had a light knapsack over one solid shoulder and Hester, who knew Norman only by reputation, guessed at once who he was. She clutched Ferdie’s arm.
    ‘It’s him!’ she whispered, pulling Ferdie down beside her until only their two heads, their outlines broken by a tangle of old man’s beard, were visible. ‘Evie’s fella! See? That’s an army kitbag over ’is shoulder! ’E’s come for her! Get down, Ferdie! Don’t let ’im see us!’
    Norman Clark moved silently towards the empty hostel and stood, listening and looking, his eyes moving over the face of the building, at the closed shutters and drawn curtains. His back was to Hester and Ferdie and the only sound was the mallards on the farm pond and the stream as it funnelled under the humpbacked bridge.
    Hester froze. Across the yard, inside the open door to her cottage, she had left Thurza in her playpen, amusing herself with her toys. It would be no good expecting Ferdie to run for help, his maimed leg prevented any movement beyond a rolling hobble which, though fast enough for herding stock and sound enough for driving horse and cart or tractor, would be no use to him on this occasion.
    ‘Stay there, Ferdie,’ Hester told him. He gaped at her, struggling to comprehend the situation and focus his mind on devising a plan to deal with it. In the meantime he would do as Hester told him. ‘I’m gunna try to get round the back of the barn to the yard phone!’ she said. ‘Make sure you keep your ’ead down,