They continued to walk through the gardens.
“Henry Trevor opened a business here in Norwich, and in 1855, he bought the lease of an old chalk quarry and started creating a picturesque garden,” he explained as they moved through the woodland walkways, the flower beds, and the Italianate terrace.
“It is very picturesque,” Audrey agreed.
“He built a Gothic fountain in 1857,” Henry explained.
“Is he still alive?” she asked.
“He is. I see him occasionally about town,” he told her.
Audrey walked along the water features and rockeries and admired the simple beauty of it all. “I’m glad you took me here. Glad you asked your mother to watch Frances,” Audrey said. “It feels good to be out and away from the workhouse. My job is rewarding but tiring at times. And with everything going on,” she began but he stopped her.
“You’ve been through too much Audrey. I thought a simple break would be good for you,” He told her.
“The green walkways remind me a little of the country around Kent,” she said, admiring the foliage.
She enjoyed this quiet time spent with Henry. She didn’t want to think about her ailing mother or the responsibility of the workhouse. She wanted to be as they were now. Two people together admiring the gardens with nothing else on their minds. They continued to admire the gardens and stopped along the way to sit upon a bench.
“The first time we met was in a park, and we sat on a bench much lik
e this one to discuss the future,” he said.
“I remember,” she said.
Moments ticked by in silence.
“Would you… tell me what your mother might have said about the night at the concert?” Audrey hesitated. “I’m sure you said something, and I’d like to hear it. I honestly thought Mother was doing better and then—”
“I have spoken to my mother about that night. They returned to the box after a glass of champagne. I think your mother had two when the lights dimmed. Your mother and mine were chatting away, looking out over the audience, and suddenly she became quite agitated. She told my mother she saw him. When my mother asked who, she said the shadow man. She said he was in the audience and that he was up to no good. She had seen him on the workhouse grounds many nights, but no one believed her, not even her own daughter.”
Audrey shook her head. It was disturbing to hear how her mother had acted that night in the concert. A woman she had known her entire life, a woman who had always behaved so proper. She had long been the vicar’s wife with never a hair out of place, and now she had begun a descent into madness. It shook Audrey to the core. It frightened her more than she would ever care to voice aloud.
“Then she sprang up and said she would confront the man and make everyone believe the truth, especially you. That was when my mother interceded and the rest you know,” Henry finished.
“I don’t know, Henry. It’s possible there is a man wandering the grounds at night. Certainly, I’ve seen a man myself once. But why does she suddenly think this one man is up to no good? Intuition? Has she seen something else that she’s not told us that is dangerous or frightening?” She shook her head.
Henry shrugged. “You would know more about that than I.”
Audrey bit her lip. “Maybe this whole thing with my father’s death has caused her to snap. He was her whole world.”
“And she’s getting older. It does happen, Audrey,” he pointed out.
“I hope the doctor can give us some good news on that point.” She paused and then told him, “On another note, I was doing some work for the classroom. I am certain that the initials in the diary are people’s initials. I wondered if we might be able to pull the records for the past five years of the inmates in the workhouse and compare them. I know that’s a great deal of people, but it’s a start.”
“Certainly. I could get those ledgers for you, but I would like to help you.”
“Of course,” she said eagerly. “You must. We must do it together.”
He looked at the sky and the setting sun. “Should we take tea? There’s a charming teahouse nearby.”
“I’d like that.”
When she stood, he came to stand by her and took her arm in his. “I’ve enjoyed this outing. It has been a most pleasant afternoon.”
“You’ve quite chased my blues away.”
“Quite,” he said.