‘Yes.’
‘I trust he is happy in his work.’
‘I believe so. He still calls on me, once a week.’
‘That is good. I know that you and your brother are very close. And how are you finding things in Ledbury?’ he asked, sipping his tea.
‘I like Ledbury very much. The people have been very kind to us here, and the town has a warmth and charm that is very pleasing.’
‘I am glad of that.’
Ravenscroft, realizing that his left hand was beginning to shake, took another sip of his tea, and looked out of the window, not knowing what he should say next. He had not expected such aloofness, such formality, but now considered he had been foolish to expect otherwise.
‘Do you still dislike London?’ she asked, suddenly breaking the silence.
‘I would prefer to reside in Worcester — or perhaps even Ledbury,’ he replied.
‘But your work is in the capital?’
‘Alas, yes.’
‘Perhaps you could secure another appointment.’
‘Miss Armitage, Lucy, I realize that my last visit caused you some distress and placed you in a predicament. For that, I wish to apologize,’ he said, the words coming quickly and unsure.
‘You have nothing to apologize for, Mr Ravenscroft. It is I who must apologize to you. I was perhaps too cruel in the way in which I treated you.’
‘Never! You could never be cruel to me. It was my impulsive nature that came to the fore. I was entirely to blame.’
‘You sound as though you regretted your decision?’ she said, turning away, leaving Ravenscroft unsure as to what he should say next. Instead he took another drink of his tea, and listened to the slow tick of the clock in the corner of the room.
‘And what will you do, once your case is concluded?’ she asked, ‘Will you return to London? There have been some terrible murders there recently, I understand.’
‘I believe so, although I must admit that I have not had time to read the London papers, so am not fully acquainted with all the details,’ he replied, replacing his cup on the tray.
‘Your colleagues will be missing you there.’
‘I would doubt that.’
‘You would like some more tea?’
‘No, thank you,’ he replied, glancing at the clock face, ‘I must go,’ he said rising from his seat, accepting that his mission was impossible, and anxious to leave as quickly as possible.
‘Yes, your train. You must not miss your train to Hereford,’ she said, a look of anxiety clouding her face.
‘Perhaps I might call on you again, Miss Armitage,’ he said, seeing the sadness in her eyes, and knowing that he might never see her again.
‘You would always be welcome here, Mr Ravenscroft — Samuel.’
‘Lucy, I-’ he began, anxious to declare his true feelings, but afraid that his determination might yet cause more unhappiness.
‘You should catch your train, Samuel,’ she replied, sensing his unease, and touching his arm gently with her hand.
‘Yes. You are right,’ he said, kissing her hand. ‘Good day to you, Lucy.’
As he stepped out into the street, and made his way slowly back to the station, he was overcome with feelings of failure and emptiness. He had wanted to say so much, to have told her how his life had been lonely and without purpose since their last meeting, but her detachment and formality had been like a barrier, which he had felt unable to climb. As he sat on the platform, waiting for the next train to arrive, he began to curse his lack of resolve — and realized that he had faced the most important challenge in his life, and had again been found wanting.
‘Good morning,’ said Crabb, as Ravenscroft stepped down from the train. ‘Welcome to Hay. I trust your enterprise at Ledbury went well?’
‘Have you located Radnor Lodge?’ asked Ravenscroft, ignoring the question, and looking up at the black sky which seemed to match his mood.
‘About a five-minute walk from here, sir, but I don’t think we are in luck. The place looks deserted; all boarded up,’ replied Crabb.
‘Nevertheless, lead on,’ said Ravenscroft.
The two men left the station and made their way down a dusty road, on the edge of the town.
‘I don’t like the look of that sky, sir. The heavens look as though they are about to open. Ah, here we are.’
Ravenscroft found himself outside a large house. ‘I see what you mean,’ he said, observing that all the doors and windows of the property had been covered over with wooden boards, that several tiles were missing from the roof and that the gardens were full of nettles and long grass.
‘Looks as though no one has lived here for years.’
‘I wonder why they went away? Have you enquired at the nearby houses?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘One or two of the neighbours can recall a family living here called Tinniswood, but they can’t remember much about them.’
‘It seems as though our journey may prove pointless. Let’s make our way into the town and find some refreshment before this sky opens up on us,’ replied a gloomy Ravenscroft.
Making their way into the centre of Hay, they were met with a rumble of approaching thunder as the rain started to fall. Quickly passing the old clock tower in the market square, Ravenscroft and Crabb ran up the steep slope and turned the corner before making their way into one of the nearby inns.
‘Just made it in time,’ remarked Crabb, as the rain cascaded down on the pavement.
‘Two tankards of your best ale,’ said Ravenscroft, addressing the landlord.
‘As you wish, sir, won’t keep you long.’
‘That fire looks inviting,’ said Ravenscroft, rubbing his hands and moving closer to the hearth. A group of three men busily engaged in smoking and drinking, looked up briefly from their game of dominoes.
‘There you are, gentlemen,’ said the landlord, placing two tankards on the table, where they had seated themselves. ‘You are not from these parts then?’
‘No, we’ve journeyed from Worcester. Tell me, do you have anything to eat?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘I could rustle up some bread and cheese, and some of the wife’s homemade pickle, if you like.’
‘That sounds most acceptable.’
‘What you doing in Hay then?’ asked one of the domino players, looking up from the game. ‘We don’t get many visitors round these parts.’
‘We’re here on business,’ replied Ravenscroft.
‘Ain’t no business to be done in Hay,’ remarked the second player, letting out a thin wisp of smoke from the corner of his mouth.
‘Picked a good day for it,’ laughed the third, his voice almost eclipsed by the sound of the rain beating on the windows of the inn. ‘This casselty weather dunna suit most owd folks.’
‘So it would seem,’ replied Ravenscroft.
‘Be beazy by afternoon though,’ said the first man.
‘We are trying to trace the Tinniswood family. Do you know of them?’ asked Ravenscroft raising his voice.
‘Maybe,’ said the first player, taking a long draw on his clay pipe.
‘They used to live at Radnor Lodge,’ said Crabb.
‘Radnor Lodge, you say?’
‘The house which is all boarded up, on the edge of town, with the overgrown garden,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘Oh there, Radnor Lodge,’ nodded the second smoker.
‘Yes, the Tinniswood family,’ added Ravenscroft hopefully.
‘You remember them Tinniswoods, Glyn?’ asked the first speaker.
‘Lived at Radnor Lodge. They kept themselves much to themselves, them being English like. Just arrived one day,’ offered the third man.
‘How long were they here for?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Oh, about twenty year or so, then they left one day, and ain’t come back since.’
‘Can you tell me anything about them?’
‘There were MrTinniswood and his wife. They had two sons, I believe. One of ’em died when he was young,’ continued the man.
‘That would be the family,’ said Ravenscroft, realizing that he might be getting somewhere at last.
‘Buried in churchyard, along with them others, he is.’