Jane Forxworthy Page 8

  Evie closed the album with a snap but Jane Foxworthy was smitten .. “Think he’s got lovely legs too . . really do,” she said in a ragged and slurred tone. “Really, really do,” she slurped.

  “But I thought he went into the cavalry, Jane? . . This young bucko you talk about.” “I don’t know any bucko, Dear . . Do you? . . .Oh! You must tell me about him, sometime.” she answered dreamily . . “Yes, I definitely think he has lovely legs . . .”Jane’s voice tapered away and a sensual grin appeared around her mouth, before she began to laugh and then to cry and her face became sad with the tears that filled her eyes.

  “Could ‘ave ‘ad a nice chap meself . .you know dear. What was I sayin’?”

  “About the father of the person you haven’t mentioned yet, Jane.”

  Evie wondered why she bothered. She wasn’t that interested and would rather have heard more about the tall, gruff man with the beard.

  “The last we ‘eard of ‘im was that ‘e was carryin’ the banner for somethin’ or other in Bradfold.”

  “Bradford dear . .” Evie closed her eyes and smiled as she helped herself to a whisky only to be disappointed to find there was none left in the decanter. She looked at the bottle to see what she could find there.

  “Like a man with long thighs, I do,” moaned Jane Foxworthy as she sucked her teeth, making a loud smacking noise in Evie’s ear.

  “Don’t think I’ll bother to make that black coffee now,” said Evie as her guest began to snore loudly, waking up for a moment only to add, “Big feet are ever so sexy too,” .. she slurred and then she fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  JANE FOXWORTHY RUBBED HER EYES with the back of her hands and screwed up her face as Evie pulled the blinds in the lounge and let the sunshine streak through the room.

  “Good morning Jane. I hope you slept well. It’s going to be a nice day I think.” Evie handed her sleepy guest a cup of coffee, black with no sugar. “Here, drink this and you’ll feel a lot better.”

  The stout lady moved slowly from where she lay on the settee and looked around.

  “Where am I? Oh! God . . No, I didn’t take to the evils of drink did I Evie? My stockins. Oh! Lord where the hell . . sorry Evie. Have you see them anywhere please?”

  “You tucked them into your handbag last night.”

  “Oh! dear oh! dear . . What ever must you think of me, Evie . .?”

  Evie was pleased that at least and at last, Jane had remembered who she was as Jane sipped her coffee, cringing as if a mallet had crashed down on her head and Evie grinned as she reached towards the coffee table, just in time to save Miss Foxworthy’s drink from going all over the floor.

  “Sorry Love . . I thought that table was nearer than it is. It’s these bifuckles you know. Never ever get bifuckles Evie or you’ll do things you don’t want to do. Believe me, I blame these bloody bifuckles for much of the trouble I get into . .” “Bifocals Dear,” said Evie softly. “What? What was that you said Dear?”

  “The word is bifocals, Jane . . Spectacles, you know?”

  Jane Foxworthy held her head in her hands.

  “Sorry Evie. I must have been a great embarrassment to you last evenin’. I am sorry. Did I say anythin’ I shouldn’t have done. I always do say somethin’ wrong when I’ve had too much to drink . . You won’t tell anyone about this, will you Evie? Oh! please say you won’t. Promise me.”

  Evie touched Miss Foxworthy’s arm affectionately.

  “You didn’t say anything out of place dear and you only had a little medicine for your varicose veins . . and things.”

  “Oh! My God . . Did I go on about those bloody things again,” she said and reached down to touch her knees, but Evie smiled. ‘I wish you had gone on about bloody Angus McPherson,’ she thought . .

  ***

  Jane ate a light breakfast of scrambled egg on toast and had fortunately not lost her appetite as she followed that with two apples and a banana . . . and dipped the latter into the sugar bowl.

  “That was lovely Evie. I feel a lot better now,” she said as she scratched her midriff and sucked her teeth, “Do you mind if I phone Cyn, please? Just to let her know that I shall be a little late gettin’ into the shop.” Evie nodded towards the telephone as she drank her own coffee. “Now you promise dear . . don’t you?” Miss Foxworthy sought her host’s reassurance again before she dialled the number of the sweetie shop and Evie nodded very sincerely . . . “Of course not Jane. What are friends for if you can’t relax in their company now and again,” she said, knowing only too well that the seed of her blackmail . . (she hated that word, .) had been sown and Miss Foxworthy sighed with relief. “You are so understandin’ Evie. You really are, my Dear,” she said most humbly and even if Evie did have her own ulterior motive for her silence, she was beginning to like Jane Foxworthy and the call was duly made to the sweetie shop and from the nodding and grunting that went on, Evie felt that the matter of the night out had been resolved, especially as Jane finished her call by explaining that the delay was due to a little discomfort in the night.

  “There is something that you could perhaps help me to understand Jane, if you would,”

  Evie plied her request, knowing that Jane Foxworthy was like putty in her hand by this time and of course, Jane readily agreed to help. “It’s about Mr. McPherson . . You know . . Young Danny’s grandfather?”

  Jane swallowed hard and looked away.

  “Did I say anythin’ about him last night Evie? You mustn’t pay any attention to my ramblins when I’ve had a few . . you know that.”

  “No . . Not at all Jane. You never said a word about him, but I was just wondering . . Is he quite sociable to talk to? I mean, could I pay him a visit as a new neighbour, do you think?” she said and purposely omitted to mention her last visit to the bearded recluse.

  “Oh! He’s a warrior that one, Evie. He keeps himself to himself these days. Never was like that as a young man though. He was . . He was rather handsome as a matter of fact.”

  Evie raised her eyebrows in further expectancy of Mr. McPherson’s character and Miss Foxworthy was ready, if a little reluctant to oblige. “Never missed a party when he was a young man. Danced and sang all night, he did . . Great mimic too. He could imitate anyone’s voice in the whole village, much to the annoyance of many, I can tell you. Dashing handsome though . . and he married . .”

  Miss Foxworthy stopped talking and stared out of the window.

  “Yes Jane. You were saying he married . ?”

  Jane Foxworthy turned round again to face Evie but she was non-committal.

  “He married a girl from the village. She was quite lovely . . well many thought she was,” was all she would say.

  “Is your head better now Jane?” Evie digressed but she had no intention of giving up. There were questions that had to be answered and she would get those answers, by hook or by crook, but gently does it, she thought as Wills glared at her again from somewhere beyond. . . . and she looked away. It was no time to take notice of a face like that.

  “Yes Evie. I feel a lot better now. A little light headed but I’ll be O.K. after I’ve had a wash.”

  “A girl from the village, you say Jane . . the one that McPherson married?”

  Jane coughed lightly and ran her fingers through her hair.

  “Did I say that? Did I tell you about Angus McPherson, Evie?” Jane asked anxiously and her face was troubled. “I did, didn’t I?”

  “Did you Jane. I’m not quite sure, but go on.”

  Evie played her part well and with considerable detachment from the situation . .. .or so it seemed.

  “What is it you want to know Evie?” asked Jane with a peculiar look in her eye.

  “Oh! Nothing in particular Jane. You know how it is when one sees a little girl like Danny with the handicaps that you’v
e already told me she has and living on her own with a grandfather like that?”

  Jane closed her eyes tightly and remained silent for a few moments as she stood rigidly still.

  “Well Jane?” Evie prompted, trying to show indifference and the older lady frowned

  “It could have been . . . I think perhaps the grandmother was at fault . . with the little one.”

  Evie pricked up her ears.

  “How is that Jane? I thought you said Danny’s grandmother was . . quite a lovely person.”

  Miss Foxworthy took on the look of a guilty child when Evie said that.

  “Perhaps I’ve said more than I should have done, Evie. I think I’d better be off now,”

  “But Jane . .You haven’t finished your coffee and there’s more scrambled egg in the oven. It has to be eaten.”

  Jane raised her eyes. “Well perhaps just a little more Evie. It really was delicious,” she said as she stroked her thighs. “Though I really have to watch my figure you know, my Dear. Look at my thighs . . Thunder thighs I call them and look at my ankles. I’ve seen better on an elephant.”

  “Nonsense Jane. I’m sure you’re no more than a size twelve.”

  Jane Foxworthy could never resist a compliment and her feelings of guilt went out the window when she heard that.

  “Well, I’ve always wanted to be a ten actually, but oh! well, whatever will be, will be, I suppose . . Do you really think I could be a twelve Evie?”

  “Of course Jane. We can never ever see ourselves as others see us,” she commented with her tongue in her cheek, “And I see you quite definitely as a ten . .er twelve, sorry.”

  “In that case I will have that scrambled egg and I’ll start a diet tomorrow.”

  Jane rolled up her sleeves displaying her red podgy arms as she grabbed her knife and fork for the second time and studied the apples more carefully than she had done previously.

  “You were saying Jane . . about Danny’s grandmother . . How she was a lovely girl?”

  Jane spoke with her mouth full of egg.

  “Yes, Oh! Yes, where was I now Evie? Oh! Yes, I remember. Can you pass me the tomato sauce please Dear? She was a lovely LOOKIN’ woman but I think there was a little somethin’ wrong with her mind.”

  Evie gasped and her eyes went wide.

  “What makes you say that Jane?”

  Miss Foxworthy pushed some more scrambled egg into the side of her mouth, first with her fork and then with her thumb, before she dabbed her chin with her serviette and picked a little piece of stray egg from her breast which she carelessly threw to the floor.

  “Well, I never listen to gossip, you understand, but it was rumoured . . .”

  Evie nodded enthusiastically in total sympathy and understanding as she waited impatiently for more.

  “Well,” she said, “What is it? What was the rumour, Jane?”

  “Well, it was said that she wouldn’t allow him . . .”

  “Wouldn’t allow him WHAT, Jane?” Evie asked as her patience was being sorely tried.

  “You know Evie . . . That thing . . Oh! Gosh, I’d better shut up, hadn’t I?” said Jane, hoping that Evie would disregard her reticence and persuade her to go on . . . which of course, she did.. “The marriage thing, Evie . . You know?” she said, pronouncing her words very clearly and shaping her lips to the sound of her voice and Evie’s eyes narrowed as she set about her cat and mouse game with Miss Foxworthy.

  “I don’t know what you mean Jane . . “ she said, looking the picture of innocence, but I know your just aching to tell me, she thought and Miss Foxworthy blushed as she scooped the last of her egg into her chewing mouth.

  “She would not allow him to consummate the marriage . . “ she said quickly, “There now you’ve gone and made me say it.” Evie’s lips formed in the shape of a polo mint, but Miss Foxworthy hadn’t quite finished. “It is thought that he walked out on her several times, probably for this reason, I wouldn’t doubt,” she said as she nodded her head in approval of her own conclusions, before she shrugged her shoulders in a show of sympathy . . . . apparently towards Angus McPherson and not his puritanical wife from what she went on to say, “Some say that he went back to the house one night and . . . . .” she said the next few words in utter silence and Evie couldn’t quite read her lips, even if her mouth looked as though she had it on a piece of elastic.

  “And what Jane?”

  Evie was gradually getting more impatient, but Miss Foxworthy would never utter certain words . .in public, although she was known to say fuck and far worse in the quiet silence of her bedroom. . Instead, she took a small piece of paper from her Dorothy bag and scribbled something on it for Evie to read.

  “R.A.P.E . . Is that what you wanted to say, Jane?”

  “Sssh! dear . . Someone might hear.” Evie slipped the little note into her pocket, whilst Jane Foxworthy looked about her furtively before she went on. “It was on a Sunday evenin’ I can well remember and Angus was convicted and sent to prison. The whole village was horrified. Have you a wee sharp knife so that I can peel this apple Evie?” Evie dutifully handed the wee knife over and Jane continued her tale of woe. “Yes, it was a Sunday evenin’ . . Thank you for that Dear,” she began to skin the apple and stuck a slice of the fruit into her mouth with the blade attached. “Och! Well, I had better tell you her name. It was Margaret and she kept the Sabbath to such an extent that she would do nothin’ on that day. Absolutely NOTHIN’ . . She wouldn’t even speak on the Sabbath. Went to Kirk in the mornin’ and again in the evenin’ but apart from her prayers and her hymn singin’ she would never open her mouth, not even to pass the time of day if you met her in the street. . . Well, I ask you?”

  “And he? Angus, I mean . . He did what he felt he had to do on a Sunday, did he Jane?”

  Jane Foxworthy shoved another slice of apple into her mouth and threw the core onto the carpet.

  “Ironical, isn’t it Evie dear,” she mumbled with her mouth full and then she laughed, spitting pieces of apple all around her. “I bet she opened her mouth when that happened to her eh?” She giggled and coughed simultaneously. “Sorry Evie. I must sound very rude.” she said but Evie’s thoughts were elsewhere.

  “And he was sent to prison, did you say, Jane?”

  “Yes he went into Inverness for the trial and the jury found him guilty . . Oh! with a vengeance they did too, but that’s not the end of it. Oh! no, not by a long chalk.”

  Evie was mesmerised. The whisky of the previous evening; the egg and the apples and the banana for breakfast . . they were all worth what she was hearing now.

  “What? There’s more then Jane?”

  Miss Foxworthy bit her lower lip and picked nervously at her finger nails.

  “I don’t know why I’m tellin’ you all this Evie. I shouldn’t be, you know. You’re a total stranger to me, aren’t you Dear?”

  Evie could have smiled at that last remark, but she was too anxious to know what happened next as she reminded Miss Foxworthy of something she had said to her previously,

  “That’s what friends are for Jane,” she said and Jane Foxworthy smiled in appreciation. “What happened next Jane . . . . Do tell . .” she went on and Jane Foxworthy sighed and cast her eyes to heaven.

  “I’ll burn in hell for my big mouth . . I will that, Evie.”

  “Yes Jane . . and what happened next?”

  Miss Foxworthy tut-tutted.

  “Well now . . Sometime after, he was sent to prison . . about nine months after to be precise and one of the local farm-hands was walkin’ home late one night, after the pub had shut and he needed a piss . . Oh! God, I’m sorry Evie. . . So sorry, I mean to say, he needed to attend the call of nature, you know . .”

  “Yes Jane. Go on . . Go on, please.”

  “He heard a baby cryin’ in the copse wh
ere he had stopped to do his . . you know . . and when he went to investigate, he found a new born baby, wrapped neatly in a shawl and lyin’ in a cardboard box . . all clean an’ everythin’, but nearby in the shadow of the moonlight, he saw a young woman hangin’ from a tree. It was a spot we called the kissing trees because the two trees looked as though that was just what they were doing. Margaret had hanged herself just a few weeks after she had given birth to her little one, it was said.”

  Evie sat back in horror.

  “Jane, what a sad thing to happen. Poor Margaret . . Did you know her well?”

  Miss Foxworthy pulled out a scarlet and green hankie and dabbed her eyes.

  “Yes . . well, quite well, I suppose and they let Angus out of prison to bury his wife and to look after the child . . It was a little girl. He called her Isabelle, Bella for short and she grew up to be the livin’ image of her mother. They say Angus doted on her but he became very strict and wouldn’t let her out of the house on her own.”

  “But Jane, she must have got out at some time surely, if she got pregnant.”

  “Yes, you’re right Dear and Angus went mad when he heard about that. Some say he threw her out of the house and others say she ran away in fear. Nobody really knows for he’s such a secretive man and he rarely speaks now-a-days. Bella would have been as young as Danny is now, I suppose when it happened. About fifteen, I would imagine.”

  “And the father Jane. . .Who was the father?”

  “Who? Oh! you mean Bella’s man? Nobody ever found out who he was . It was very strange, but then there was always lads deliverin’ stuff to the house at the back entrance and she was very beautiful, you know. She might have taken a fancy to one of them, I suppose . .but I never could think that way . . and she used to sing and they could hear her . . . Yes, just like her mother she was, but Bella had all her wits about her and in that way she was different to Margaret. Old McPherson would have done better not to have got married. . . at least not to Margaret, but mind you, I don’t say that Margaret was daft or anythin’ like that. She was more eccentric, I would say. Yes, eccentric . . that was what she was, poor girl. I told you she was a strange girl and no mistake, but she wasn’t mad . . just eccentric.”