Pennyroyal (15 page)

“And what happened to all the money that my grandfather lent to your father? Where did it go?”

“I don’t really know. I think he lost it. There are only a few transactions recorded. I think Lewis invested the money unwisely and lost it.”

Cassy felt the sobs welling up in her throat. Her grandfather’s sacrifice had been wasted. It was so cruelly unfair and so pointless.

“Don’t cry,” said Jake, appalled at the tears welling up in her eyes. He was dismayed and embarrassed, unable to cope with a woman’s distress. “Cassy, please don’t cry…”

“I’m crying for my grandfather,” she wept. “It must have been awful for him. He lost his young wife, then his best friend, even all his money. My mother lived abroad and I-I…oh, I wish I hadn’t, for I did love him so…”

He rocked her gently in his arms, soothing and stroking her hair. He was at a loss for what to say. It was all true, but Jake did not believe that Thomas Ridgeway had lived a sad life. Everything he had heard about the man showed courage and grit.

“He was wonderful to me,” Cassy went on. “When I telephoned he was cheerful and encouraging in every way. I guess that’s how he always was.”

“Then don’t cry anymore. He accepted what fate handed out to him, and found a way of living a happy and fulfilling life. There was no way my father would have cheated his best friend. My father honestly didn’t believe that the mine was worthless.”

Cassy had a strange sense of having heard those words before. Was another piece of the jigsaw falling into place?
He didn’t believe Lewis…
Her mother’s voice came clearly to mind, those last faint words ringing with conviction. Cassy drooped. She was so tired, exhausted by the emotions of the last hours. She wanted to sleep, somewhere with Jake close beside her. It had seemed such a good idea to move into Ridge House, but now she realised that this was the last place where they could be together. She would do nothing to upset Mrs. Hadlow.

She was almost too tired to work out how this shattering news would affect her feelings for Jake Everand. There was no doubt she was strongly drawn to the man; she had never met a man who attracted her in such a fascinating and forbidding way. It was more than a passing romance. But this cruel news was threatening; a guilt situation was developing fast.

“And your father…how did he come to die on the day that Pennyroyal closed?”

The sigh was deep and genuine. Jake Everand’s face stayed grim, his large stature slumped back against the chair.

“Lewis Everand died on 22 November 1951,” said Jake. “Thomas Ridgeway had by then owned Pennyroyal for nearly two years but it had produced little or nothing in the way of lead ore. He was beginning to doubt his friend’s word and I believe they did have a terrible row. Fiona remembers hearing their voices raised at Kettlehulme, and then Thomas walking out, his face furious. The next day Lewis appeared at Pennyroyal, demanding to be allowed down the mine, insisting that he would bring back evidence that he had not lied about the true value of Pennyroyal.”

“What happened?”

“Thomas refused to allow him access. He was told he was trespassing. But Lewis didn’t give up. Somehow he got down the mine. He knew the place inside out. How different everything might have been if Lewis had simply gone home.”

A mask of unhappiness was settling on Cassy’s face, still wet with tears. Every word that Jake spoke took her further and further away from him. The past was demolishing the present.

“There was a dreadful storm. Several inches of rain fell in less than an hour.

Thomas Ridgeway sent his workforce home to be on the safe side. He knew the High Peak’s capacity for torrential rain and the limestone’s rate of absorption. There was a flash flood underground and the water level in the mine rose above the safety level.”

“And no one knew Lewis Everand was down the mine?”

“At some point Thomas Ridgeway guessed or found out. They had known each other so long they could almost read each other’s minds. Thomas went back down the mine and found Lewis, injured and trapped by the flood. They got him out but Winnats Pass was blocked by a fall of rock and it was hours before an ambulance could get through. My father died on the way to Chesterfield hospital.”

The darkness of the room was unbearable. Cassy could imagine the scene at the head of the mine… Thomas trying to revive the man who was his best friend …the rain lashing Winnats Pass as only Derbyshire rain can.

She flung herself off Jake’s lap and staggered across to the light switch. The room flooded with light and she blinked unseeing into the brightness. No wonder Jake had been so tense when they stood at the top of the steps leading to the mine. He had been remembering his father. The past had caught up with them in a way she could never have imagined.

“How awful,” she choked. “Your father dying in Pennyroyal. I wished I’d never come here. I can’t bear it.”

“You wanted to know,” said Jake. “You never stopped asking me.”

“I was wrong,” said Cassy. “The past is better buried. I don’t feel the same about Pennyroyal now. I was so proud of it, so excited and thrilled, but now all I can think of is that your father died there.”

“Not exactly,” he said carefully, knowing she was shocked and irrational. “He died somewhere on the road to Chesterfield. He was injured in Pennyroyal, and if you remember how old the mine is, then Lewis was not the first casualty down there. Women and children were hurt too perhaps in those awful early Victorian days. Human life was very cheap.”

“I don’t want to know!”

“It’s real life, Cassy. Posing for photographs in a magazine hardly touches the surface.”

Cassy buried her face in her hands, sobbing, the shining tears streaming down her lovely face. Jake was right. She lived a superficial life in London, even if the problems were very real. She had no knowledge of the mining communities anywhere in Britain, no idea of the hardships endured by families, but it was not her fault. She could not be held responsible for the arrangement of genes that had given her a face that could command a fortune through a lens.

“I’m sorry. I’m saying all the wrong things.” Cassy fought back the tears. “I’d better go.”

“Hold on. Where are you going?”

“To bed. I’ve had enough of today.”

“I’ll take you to the Castle Inn.”

“I’m not staying there anymore.” Cassy’s voice was like a whispering leaf, dry and faint. “I’ve moved back here, to my old room. The room I had when I was a child.”

It was strange to have Jake taking her upstairs, to hear him telling Mrs. Hadlow in the kitchen that Cassy was worn, out and that a mug of hot milk would be just right. Cassy got herself undressed and slipped into her oyster silk nightie while Jake turned down the bed, drew the curtains and hung up her outer clothes just as if he was looking after a child.

He dropped a soft kiss into the hollow of her neck.

“Not quite how I imagined,” he said with a wicked grin.

“Never mind,” said Cassy sleepily. “I’m sure it’s all for the best. I don’t think we were meant for each other.”

Cassy did not know how long Jake stayed by her bedside, holding her hand in a comforting grip, his eyes devouring her face with a look that belied her words. He cared about what had happened in the past but he would not allow it to colour his life. He knew that Cassandra was the one woman in the world for him. Now she had decided that too much stood between them. He sat with his head bent, bowed by the knowledge.

Cassy slept but one thought kept interrupting her tangled dreams. She tried to grasp it but it fled like a wisp of mist, fleet footed across the hills.

“Alician,” she moaned in her sleep, unaware that she had found the last thread of the story.

Chapter Nine

Cassy did not stay on at Ridge House. She felt cold at heart from Jake’s story as well as being cold physically, restless and dispirited. It was time she returned to the real world, her world.

“But I will be back, I promise you,” she said, kissing Mrs. Hadlow’s worn cheek. “I love it here. I’ll come for the weekend soon.”

“I can’t keep up with you, Miss Cassy,” said Mrs. Hadlow. “You’re like a will-o’-the-wisp. One moment you’re here and the next you’re away. No wonder you’re so skinny.”

Jake left early. He was away before anyone stirred. Cassy heard the Land Rover roar down the lane long before the steely light of dawn lifted the roof off the morning. He left a phone number for Cassy to contact him but she put the square of card at the bottom of her bag without looking at it. She was not sure how she was going to be able to cope with the revelations of their families’ tangled past. For the moment she did not want to think of her grandfather and Lewis Everand. Least of all did she want to think of Jake Everand.

She returned the Daimler and took a bus into Sheffield. It was a grey, damp day with no promise of sunshine. The right day to leave the moors and peaks to their mysterious, misty trails.

The slow, jolting journey into town stultified her mind into a trance-like fog.

But the Inter-City train to London was fast and Cassy began to thaw as the miles sped past, and she was swiftly transported nearer to the life she knew. As she was drawn into the familiar scrum of the London Underground, she felt she had never been away.

She unlocked the door to her top floor flat in Berwick Court. It smelt stale and stuffy and she ran about flinging open windows and doors, an armful of letters and circulars scattering on the carpet. She switched on her answering machine and it seemed that the whole world had left messages.

Cassy threw herself down on the soft, brown tweed sofa and punched out the agency’s number.

“Cassy! Where have you been? Someone told us you’d been left a diamond mine!”

Cassy laughed. “Lead,” she said, “and worked out at that.”

“But where? In South Africa?”

“Close…Derbyshire. But there’s no need to get excited. I’ve still got to work for my living.”

“Well, that’s good news…we’re being inundated with bookings for you. How soon can you start?”

“Tomorrow. Just give me time to have a trim and a hot oil treatment at Vidal’s. My hair is awful.”

“Can you be at Anton’s by twelve noon? There’s the launch of a new skin cream called Streame, and of course he only wants you. Take a selection of clothes and accessories, go to bed early and don’t eat any chocolates.”

“Not a single mint. I’ll call by at the office when I’ve finished at Anton’s.”

Cassy returned some of the other calls and in half an hour her life was organised again with work, hair appointments, and some social engagements.

It was as if she had never met Jake Everand. But she knew that was not quite true.

She could not put him completely out of mind in the days that followed. He was everywhere. The air vibrated with echoes of his voice, images of his face and dark eyes. Every time she saw a big man, head and shoulders above the crowd, her heart began to pound. Once she caught a man by the arm, but the face that peered down at her, surprised, was that of a swarthy stranger.

There was so much to digest in what Jake told her and it was hard to accept that Pennyroyal was responsible for such cruel heartache. She was glad her grandfather and Lewis Everand had been good friends. She liked to imagine her grandfather’s life with the blessing of a real friend. But she could not forgive Lewis Everand for borrowing money from Thomas Ridgeway when he must have known that the young farmer had mortgaged every last acre he owned. Then to lose that money on unwise investments, as if it were nothing…it was almost criminal. How could she ever have thought that she was beginning to love Jake Everand, that man’s son?

But then she remembered that Lewis Everand had lost his life trying to prove that he had not given Thomas Ridgeway a worthless mine…

Cassy was so confused. She turned to her work for solace and accepted as many bookings as she could fit into a day. Her hair soon looked the glorious, shining, tawny mane that was her trademark, and the Derbyshire air had brought a new bloom to her cheeks.

“You’ve changed!” said Anton, head down behind his camera, trying to capture that elusive newness. “I don’t know what it is but I like it. What’s happened? Have you fallen in love?”

“Good heavens, no,” Cassy denied. “It’s the result of feasting one’s eyes on such wonderful views as the High Peak.”

“That’s it,” said Anton. “You look more healthy.”

Cassy lowered her eyes in amusement, but Anton was faster and caught the expression.

“Perfect for Streame,” he grinned.

Jake Everand phoned four times. Cassy ignored the recorded calls and did not phone back even though each time he left a number. She did not know why she behaved this way. She did not understand herself. She wanted to see him, wanted more than anything for everything to be right between them, but the proud Ridgeway blood declared this was now impossible.

“He’s an Everand and I’m a Ridgeway,” she said firmly to her mirror. “I’ll never forgive him.”

And she turned away from the mirror before the same face could say: “For what? Is Jake to blame?”

The fifth call was icy cool. Jake Everand’s curt voice informed her answering machine that the brokers had accepted the offer for Pennyroyal and that she should put them in touch with her solicitors. Not a word more.