Among the Darkness Stirs

She had shown the diary to Henry in the hopes of getting his opinion, but he had not had any ideas. Whatever her own guesses were, they might never know the truth. Mad ravings, money owed. She shook her head. None of it made sense. What exactly was Marguerite really writing about?

Audrey thought again of the words in the diary. I see what no one else sees. Things are not what they seem. He died of consumption and that’s what they want everyone to believe. They know that I know.

Of all the words written in the diary, those interested her the most. They know that I know. Who were the “they” Marguerite kept writing about and what did she know? It was possible that there was a group of inmates causing trouble. That made the most sense. Many inmates inside the workhouse had nothing to do but provide the labour they worked for. Some of the labour could be hard and intense, and to pass the time, maybe a group had started problems.

If so, perhaps Marguerite had found out what they were up to. But why kill Alistair and then Marguerite? What had they done that warranted their deaths? Audrey shook her head. It made no sense. It was a puzzle to be solved, and at this moment, it was gibberish.

She passed by the stables and saw a light burning inside, but no one appeared to be about. Everyone was asleep or settling down for the night. The cottages came into view, and instead of walking directly towards them, she veered off towards the orchards. The perfect line of trees calmed her.

She was about to turn back to the cottage when a flash of movement caught her eye. Her heart skipped a beat until she realized it must be her mother. Outrage filled her as she started out in the direction. After everything that had passed between them recently, she was angry to think her mother had once again left her sister alone to prowl the workhouse grounds.

What was to be gained from this? Audrey wondered. Her mother had changed so much since their arrival that there were times Audrey scarcely recognized her. She had once been a vicar’s wife and held Ladies Tea with the women of the church and organized a jumble sale to help those less fortunate. Now she was like a shadow of her former self.

Audrey caught sight of the figure moving ahead of her, and she felt shivers move along her arms. The figure she saw was not her mother. This figure was taller with broad shoulders, and they carried a lantern. She watched as the man skirted along the orchard trees and then went in the direction of the mortuary building. She continued to watch the man until he entered the mortuary, and she stopped. What did it mean? She had no idea.

She waited for several minutes, watching the mortuary building closely, but the man never re-emerged. The temperature was dropping, and she must get inside. She closed the cottage door quietly behind her once she got inside. Making her way upstairs, she stopped outside her mother’s door, staring at it.

She opened the door softly and entered the room. There was no light inside, but her eyes adjusted easily. She saw her mother, dressed for bed in a flannel nightgown, seated in a chair at the window overlooking the garden.

She turned her head to her daughter and said not a word, but her eyes burned with triumph in the dark.

Audrey buttered a piece of toast and watched as her mother fixed her tea, adding milk and sugar to it. Frances sat nearby with her doll in a chair next to her. She was waiting for her mother to say something about the night before, but she remained silent. Then Audrey realized her mother was waiting for her to say something. She was waiting for Audrey to speak.

“I think we should put off the trials for now, Mother,” she said quietly.

“Whatever you think best,” her mother said quietly.

Audrey finished her breakfast and went outside to the garden. There was fresh dew on the plants, and the air was crisp. Her mother had followed her outside.

“I owe you an apology,” Audrey told her. Augusta said nothing. “I spoke too harshly. I didn’t believe you.”

Her mother didn’t speak immediately. “If our roles were reversed, Audrey, I’m not certain I would have believed you either.”

Audrey glanced at her mother. “But just because there’s someone out walking the property doesn’t mean he’s up to no good.”

Augusta pondered these words. “Perhaps not. But we don’t know anything for certain. Do we?”

“That’s true,” Audrey agreed.

“And as we are in a strange place, my only desire is to see you and Frances safe.” Her mother’s eyes pleaded with Audrey to understand.

“I know that, Mother.” And she did.

“And it isn’t just the man out walking that concerns me. I’ve seen him carrying large objects and moving about such that it didn’t seem normal,” Augusta told her.

Audrey was about to respond, but Frances skipped outside. “We’ll see you this evening,” Audrey told her.

Frances caught Audrey’s hand as they walked towards the workhouse. “Are you and Mother done quarrelling?”

“We never quarrel for long. It was just a misunderstanding. That happens sometimes. But I love our mother very much, and she does me. So, don’t worry. We are all fine,” Audrey reassured her sister.

It was a long day. Audrey had been asked to speak at the Board of Guardians meeting that evening on the progress of the schoolroom. She was pleased to be able to talk about the improvement and greeted several of the guardians by name. She had worked hard to bring the classroom up to par and help educate the children. She was making a name for herself at Bowthorpe.

She gave the board a progress report, and when they asked her questions, she was able to answer them accurately. She thanked them for their time and took a seat facing them in the audience. When the meeting was complete, Henry approached her.

“That was impressive,” he told her. “They realize what an asset you are to the workhouse.”

“And to think you didn’t want me here. You wanted me as a what was that? A law clerk?” she teased him.