Because now he knew without a shadow of doubt that Clem Jackson was capable of anything, even murder.
Down at the brook, Emily had no idea of the horrible scenes happening up at the farm. All she knew was that John had arranged to meet her here at their usual place, and now here she was, patiently waiting for him, her heart leaping at every sound and her face flushed with anticipation.
Time and again she had wandered along the water’s edge, her eyes trained on the top field. She knew from their meetings in the past, it was the track he would take. Never once had he been late, not even when he had to put in extra work. He always got through it in time to be there when he promised.
Today, though, he was already late, she thought anxiously. And what did he have to tell her that was so urgent?
When they spoke last night, and he told her he would have some good news for her today, there had been a sparkle in his eye, making her think that he was going to see her mammy, and maybe ask if it was all right for him and Emily to start courting. She smiled at that. ‘A surprise’ – that’s all he would say, so now she would have to wait and see what it was.
Waiting wasn’t so hard though, she told herself. Not if she knew for certain he would be there.
Sitting cross-legged on the bank, with the sound of the brook playing over the boulders, she felt so content. This was a beautiful place, where the two of them had sat many a time over the past six months or so, talking and laughing, putting the world to rights. Making plans, dreaming dreams, and every passing minute, learning to love each other. John had been at Potts End Farm for just on eight months now, living with his Aunt Lizzie in a cottage over the rise in Salmesbury. Nearly twenty years old, the lad had been just a good friend to Thomas’s granddaughter for a few weeks, chatting to her while he worked on the wagons, and occasionally helping her with the animals when his own chores were done. From being good mates, the two of them had discovered love, and by now, each knew they were made for the other.
While she waited for John, Emily watched the late spring lambs at play and smiled. God’s world was a wonderful place, she thought.
Just then, a fat little lamb came to her side, curious as to what she was doing there. She ran her hands along its woolly shoulders. ‘My! You get bigger every time I see you.’ She laughed when it skipped off to find its mother. ‘Look at you … tapping your mammy for milk, and you’re almost as big as she is, poor thing.’ She watched with pleasure as the lamb nuzzled under the ewe’s belly, its tail wagging and its mouth locked onto its mammy’s long red teat, while the noise of its sucking echoed in that quiet morning air.
Emily loved it here. The bottom field was the furthest from the house and the prettiest of all. With the ragged hedges of dog roses and other wild flowers spilling their colour across the skyline, and the soft ripple of water as it meandered along, she thought this must be as close to Paradise as anybody could get.
Here in this idyllic place, alone or with John, she could sit and think, and wonder, and hope that one day her Uncle Clem would leave and their world would be happy again.
For now though, as the lambs skipped about her, she held out her arms and embracing the smallest of the flock, she gazed into its big dark eyes. The love in her heart spilled over. ‘His name is John,’ she whispered into its woolly ear. ‘We like each other a lot, and one day, maybe we’ll get married.’ Her face flushed a bashful pink. ‘Oh, I don’t mean he’s told me that’s what he wants, but I can feel it,’ she said to the wriggling creature. ‘At least, I hope he wants to marry me, because I don’t think I’ll ever want to marry anybody else.’
A sudden awareness filled her young heart. ‘I really do love him,’ she confided. ‘I must do, because when we’re together I’m so happy, I don’t even let Clem upset me. Then, when we’re apart, I feel so lonely.’ She looked to the top field. ‘He’ll be here any minute. Isn’t that wonderful!’
Giving the lamb a final hug, she took a leisurely stroll along the water’s edge. Her thoughts lingered with John, and the possibility of spending the rest of her life with him. It was a daring, wonderful thought, and it brought a smile to her face. I wonder what he’s got to tell me? she asked herself for the twentieth time.
Once again, she trained her gaze on the top field. Still no sign of him, but it didn’t matter. There was time enough before she had to be back. Besides, if she had to, she would wait for him for ever.
Filled with the energy of youth, she began to run, gently at first, her bare feet feeling every bump and curve of the land. Soon though, urged on by a rush of exhilaration, she was running like the wind, her hair loose and lifted by the breeze, and her strong legs covering the ground with surprising speed. Caught up in her own private joy, she didn’t notice the locket fly from around her neck and lose itself in a patch of sweet-scented clover.
Laughing out loud, on she ran, along the brook’s edge, then through the cool water and back again.
Thrilled to see the lambs leaping after her, she led them up and down, but they stopped at the stream’s edge and, in spite of her cajoling, would not enter the water. So she played the game and took great delight in their company. She ran and splashed and ran again, up the field and down with the lambs in pursuit. Until at last she fell in a heap, exhausted and happy, certain that today was special.
Because John had some important news to tell her.
Lying there, spreadeagled on the grass, her face uplifted to the sun and her heart pounding, Emily had never felt so alive. ‘I love him!’ she shouted to the elements. ‘I LOVE HIM!’ Her smile deepened and her laughter was a joyful sound that echoed across the fields.
She felt free out here; free to say what was in her heart. Free to be herself and not be afraid.
It was a wonderful feeling.
MAKING HIS WAY slowly and painfully to the brook, John looked towards that special place where he and Emily had arranged to meet. His sorry eyes scoured the area, but he couldn’t see her, and a small wave of relief surged through him. Though he had longed to see her, he had not wanted Emily to look on him the way he was now; nor was he ready to tell her what was on his mind. He needed time to think. He had decisions to make, and above all else, whatever the cost, he had to do what was right for Emily. Nothing else was important. Nothing else mattered.
Right now, though, he had to clean himself up, so with that in mind he headed for that part of the brook where the water tumbled down from the hillside. Here there was a deep pool where he could immerse himself in the cool, soothing waters, and put his mind to what lay ahead.
Afterwards, he would speak with his Aunt Lizzie. She was the wisest person he knew. All his life, whenever he had been troubled, she had been there to guide him. Like Emily, she was kind and giving, with a way that put a man’s heart at peace.
Determined now, he pushed on, his mind alive with thoughts of Emily.
There were things she had to know, and other, more worrying things that she must never find out, such as Jackson’s determined threat to ‘punish’ her unless John left the area for good. But how could he go? How could he leave her behind? Dear God! It didn’t bear thinking about.
On the other hand, how could he stay, when that maniac had promised to harm her? And even though
