farms hereabouts. I also know he’s been approached and has turned down other farmers, and I truly appreciate his loyalty.’
‘Well, if you want him to stay tell Mother to stop yelling at him and blaming him for anything that goes wrong. Yesterday she threatened to sack him. I was in the kitchen and I heard her screaming and shouting because he brought the horses in from the fields.’
‘I’m afraid that was my fault,’ John said. ‘I forgot to tell Harry that the blacksmith had to rebook as he’d been called out to an emergency. Unfortunately, it was still down on Harry’s work schedule to bring in the horses for shoeing. I explained to your mother that the employees must remain my responsibility, and if ever there might be a reason to reprimand anyone, I would deal with it. The matter is now done and dusted.’
‘I bet Mother didn’t take any notice.’
‘Oh, I think she did. I made it very clear …’ He now recalled Molly’s response to his words of caution. ‘In fact, to be fair – although she did not actually say it – I got the distinct feeling your mother was sorry for blaming Harry after I explained that it was not his fault.’
He stood and moved to the window, peering into the darkness. ‘What’s keeping her? Where the devil is she?’ He glanced at Rosie’s bedside clock. It was gone eleven o’clock. ‘Your mother is usually home by now. I’d best go and meet her. I know she won’t thank me for it, but it’s pitch-black out there, and you never know who might be hanging about in the shadows. If that clock is right, the Magpie will have closed its doors an hour or so back,’ he added under his breath.
He kissed Rosie on top of her head. ‘I’m going to find her, Rosie, and I need you to stay upstairs with Barney. I’ll secure the house and lock the doors on the way out. You know where the spare key is, don’t you?’
‘Yes, Daddy.’
‘Good.’ He gave Rosie a stern look. ‘Whatever you hear, or whoever might knock on the door, do not go outside. I’ll be as quick as I can. Close the curtains and keep them closed … and make sure you stay well away from the windows.’
He hurried across the room, then stopped at the door. ‘Remember what I said, Rosie. Do not open the door or answer to anyone who might call, no matter who it might be. D’you understand?’
‘Yes, Daddy. But can’t I come with you?’ she asked, following him to the door.
‘No, sweetheart. I don’t want you out there in the dark, and anyway I might need to go into the Magpie, and a pub is no place for a young girl.’ He gave her a quick hug. ‘Don’t you worry. I’ll be back in no time. Here, Barney. Good boy.’ He called the Labrador to him and ruffled the big dog’s collar. ‘I want you to look after our lovely girl. Don’t you leave her … not even for a minute.’
He gave Barney a little push and the dog went straight into Rosie’s arms. Holding him tight, she laughed out loud when he began washing her face with his long pink tongue.
‘I’ll be back before you know it,’ John promised, ‘and with luck I’ll have your mother in tow. Now remember, before I come into the house I’ll call up to you. When you hear my voice, take a little peep through the window to make absolutely sure it’s me. D’you understand?’
Feeling safe and loved, Rosie assured him that she did.
‘Right then, sweetheart … I’m glad we managed to clear the air and I’m glad we’ve been honest with each other. We should have had this little chat long ago, but we’ll do it again, I promise. Now I’d best be off.’
For the next few minutes, Rosie heard her father going from room to room, securing her inside the house. Then she heard him close the front door and she waited for the click of the key in the lock. When she heard that she ran back to the window and gingerly turned up a corner of the curtain in order to catch a glimpse of him.
For a moment or so she could not pick out his tall, strong figure; then he passed under the big automatic security lights attached to the largest building in the yard.
Last winter, after a spate of thefts from farms in the area, Rosie’s father had made this barn strong and secure enough to house his valuable farming equipment.
Rosie watched him, thinking he cut a fine figure in his long dark coat, his black-and-white checked cap pulled down to his brow. ‘Love you, Daddy,’ she whispered. She thought about her mother, out there doing whatever it was she did and not caring who might be at home worrying about her.
Within moments her father was gone, having quickly dodged through the space between two farm buildings to cut across the fields. Rosie often used that same short cut into town, but never in the dark. The very idea made her shiver with fright.
Now, with the dog nudging her, she carefully lowered the curtain and turned to fuss him. ‘Well, Barney, Daddy says we have to stay here and not open the door to anyone.’ She giggled. ‘Though I reckon if anyone tried to get in here, you’d have them for breakfast, wouldn’t you, eh?’
Looking up with soulful eyes, the dog stretched out on the carpet to await his master’s return, although Rosie knew he would leap up should he be needed.
‘I think it’s time the pair of you called it a day.’ Peggy Benson, the landlady of the Magpie, was none too pleased when Molly Tanner refused to climb down from the bar stool. In truth, having been made irritable by the booze, she was actively looking for trouble.
‘Come on, Molly,’ Mrs Benson insisted. ‘I need to lock up now. If you don’t mind.’
‘Hey! What’s your problem, lady?’ As she leaned forward, Molly was in danger of tumbling from her perch. ‘Want us out, do you? OK then, but before we leave, it would be nice to have one last drink … on the house, perhaps, as I’m one of the staff.’
‘Sorry! No more booze for you two … at least not in this pub,’ the landlady insisted.
‘Is that so?’ Molly was in fighting mood. ‘Right then, we’re not budging from here. Not until we’ve had another round to finish off the evening. Go on, off you go … back behind the bar!’ She waggled her finger towards the rows of bottles. ‘My friend will have a pint of your best beer, and another G&T for yours truly – and don’t skimp on the gin this time.’ She laughed as she dug a handful of coins from her handbag. ‘See!’ She threw the coins across the bar. ‘I’ve got money, if you’re too tight to give us them on the house, so you needn’t worry about that.’
‘I don’t want your money, Molly, I want the pair of you out of here,’ said Mrs Benson, swallowing down a retort at the difficult woman’s insults. ‘It’s way past closing time, and I am not serving you any more drinks. The bar is officially closed so the two of you might as well get off.’
‘We will, but not until you pour us each a generous nightcap.’
‘Sorry, did you not hear me? I just told you, there will be no more drinks served here tonight. So take your fancy man and get off home.’ She added with a knowing smile, ‘I’m sure your husband is wondering where you are.’ Leaning forward, she lowered her voice confidentially. ‘I’m thinking maybe I should call him to come and get you.’
‘What! You spiteful old cow!’ Agitated, Molly dashed the empty glasses off the bar. ‘You’d best mind your own damned business if you know what’s good for you!’
She glared at the landlady before ambling over to her companion, a small-built, wiry fellow with a shock of fair hair and a well-worn but curiously attractive face. A man well versed in chiselling a living out of anything that came his way, whether legal or otherwise.
Right now, though, he was lying prostrate on the floor. ‘Come on, you …’ Tugging at his coat sleeve, Molly tried to get him up, but the more she struggled and failed, the sulkier he got.
‘Bugger off, Molly!’ Eventually,