CHAPTER FIFTEEN (Part One)
‘A dead woman below the cliffs?’
Twm Beynon regarded the young lad with suspicion. If a village woman had gone missing he would have heard about it before this. Some of the local youths thought it great fun to bait the village watchman and send him on a wild goose chase.
‘Aye, it’s true, Mr Beynon.’ The boy insisted, nodding. ‘Look, I found this shawl near her.’
Twm took the shawl. It had a Paisley design and as far as he could tell was of the finest silk. No village woman ever wore such finery. Now he was inclined to believe the boy’s tale.
‘She be washed in from the sea,’ he said aloud. ‘Fallen overboard from some passing ship.’
The boy shook his head. ‘Her clothes are dry, Mr Beynon. And there’s been low tides hereabouts lately.’
Twm frowned at him. ‘What were you doing skulking about at the foot of the cliffs anyway?’ he asked. ‘You know that’s dangerous if you’re caught by the tide.’
‘Collecting driftwood for our fire, Mr Beynon,’ the boy said. ‘My Mam is a widow and appreciates anything I can do to help out.’
‘It wouldn’t be very helpful to her if you drowned,’ Twm said cuttingly. He regarded the boy for a moment and then made up his mind. ‘Well, come along then. You best show me where this body is.’
Following the cliff path away from the village the boy showed him a steep path that led to the narrow shale shore.
‘It’s quite a way along, Mr Beynon,’ the boy said. ‘I reckon she lies just beneath the path that leads to the big house.’
They walked for some twenty minutes along the shore line; Twm keeping a wary eye on the advancing tide. Eventually, the boy pointed ahead.
‘There she is!’
There was a body all right. Twm stopped to consider. ‘Boy, you run back to the village as fast as you can and fetch help. Be quick! That tide waits for no man.’
The boy turned tail and run. After a moment’s hesitated Twm advanced on the body. The woman was a stranger to him and again he wondered if she had been washed up by the tide.
He knelt down beside her. She did not look as though she had been immersed in water. Her bright blonde hair was matted with blood from a terrible wound at the side of her head. The way she lay sprawled he suspected her back was broken and limbs too. He touch her hand which was limp and he fancied still slightly warm. She had died not too long ago.
He had seen many dead but no one that had died so violently as this poor creature certainly had and he glanced up at the cliffs towering above him. Undoubtedly, she had lost her footing and fallen. Twm glanced up at the cliff again. No, that did not fit. The body lay too far out from the cliff bottom.
Twm sat on a rock outcrop nearby awaiting help and ruminated on the oddness of it all. A total stranger falls from a cliff. He felt a prickling of hairs at the back of his neck and shifted his position uneasily. Fell or is pushed? Suppose she didn’t just fall? Suppose someone had pushed her? But why? A total stranger. Who was she?
He was relieved to see some men from the village hurrying towards him, the boy with then.
They stood around the poor dead creature, curiosity and dread in their expressions. Twm knew how they felt.
‘Best get her back to the village,’ Twm said.
One man produced a large piece of sacking. Gently the body was lifted onto it and with a man taking grasp of each corner the body was carried with solemnity back the way they had come.
There was no help for it, Twm thought. The body must lie at his cottage while he made enquiries as to her identity. It was his responsibility now. He was the law around here, at least for the time being, until a magistrate could be fetched. Folks must pay heed to him for once. That made him feel rather important.
He decided to make first enquiries at the post office. Daisy Bream always had her nose in other people’s business.
‘You found a body, Mr Beynon,’ Daisy greeted him as he entered her cottage. ‘A woman, so I’m told.’
‘Aye.’ He gave her a hard officious look. ‘Any strangers around the village of late?’
Daisy raised her brows. ‘Not in the village, but I hear from my Linda that there’s been lady visitors up at Cliff House recently. You’d best ask there.’
Twm felt uneasy. He usually kept out of Sir Leopold’s way as much as he could due to that gentleman’s uncertain temper. He did not know whether his new assumed authority would protect him, as many people considered watchmen no higher than thieves and liars. Very unfairly, Twm considered. He took his position and duties very seriously.
‘Who are these ladies then?’ he asked although he could hardly believe that a lady would go missing from the big house without an immediate hue and cry.
Daisy’s lips thinned and she looked annoyed. ‘Linda wouldn’t tell me,’ she said peevishly. ‘She doesn’t trust her own mother not to gossip. Can you believe that Mr Beynon?’
‘Umph! Twm was noncommittal.
‘What does this poor dead woman look like?’ Daisy asked.
Twm described the body as best he could.
‘I’ll ask my customers,’ Daisy said eagerly. ‘Someone must know her.’
‘Umph!’ Twm had to leave it there for the moment. He jibbed at going to Cliff House himself without firmer ground to stand on. ‘Let me know as soon as you hear anything,’ he told Daisy in heavy official tones. ‘This is a very serious matter.’
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POVERTY'S PRIDE
Historical Fiction1885 When her father dies, Rosalind Trevellian (19) is left destitute and homeless. Grief-stricken and apprehensive, Rosalind travels far west to the mansion of her distant cousin Sir Leopold Trevellian. A great scandal has rocked the family in the...