Edward Marston - The excursion train

'You're entitled to rejoice, Win.'

'No, it's wrong. He was a man of the cloth.'

'Are you forgetting what Nathan said about him?'

'It makes no difference. This is awful news. How did he die?'

'I don't know the details,' said Newman, disappointed by her response. 'Our foreman passed it on to me. All that he picked up was that the chaplain was found dead in a railway carriage at Maidstone.'

'Did you tell this to Adam?'

'Yes, and I thought that he'd be glad as well.'

'Wasn't he?'

'It was difficult to say, Win. There was hardly any reaction at all and that was surprising when you think of the way that he damned the chaplain at the execution. It's odd,' Newman went on, scratching his beard, 'but it was almost as if Adam already knew.'

'How could he?'

'I don't know and he didn't stay long enough for me to find out. He rushed off. Adam said that he had somewhere to go and, judging by the way he left, it must have been somewhere important.'

'He told me that he didn't sleep at all last night.'

Newman was puzzled. 'Then what is the lad up to?' He dismissed the subject and turned his attention to her. 'Let's put him aside for the moment, shall we? The person I'm really worried about is you, Win.'

'Why?'

'You looked so drawn and harassed when I saw you this morning. So desperately tired. To be honest, I thought you were sickening for something.'

'Don't fret about me, Gregory.'

'But I do.'

'I'm worn down, that's all,' she explained. 'This whole business has dragged on for so long. Nathan's arrest was such a shock to me and the trial was unbearable. As for the execution…'

'You shouldn't have been there. I did try to stop you.'

'He was my husband. I had to be there.'

'It was too much to ask of any wife, Win. It was foolish to put yourself through all that suffering outside Maidstone prison.'

'Nathan wanted me, Gregory. I gave him my word.'

She looked down at her hands as unpleasant memories surged back to make her temples pound. He could see her struggling to compose herself. Newman gave her time to recover. When she eventually glanced up, she manufactured a smile.

'I'm sorry. I try not to think about it or the pain floods back.'

'I know.'

'At least Emily was spared the sight. It would have been cruel to make her go with us. She adored Nathan – he could talk to her somehow. Emily always turned to him for help, not me.'

'He was a good father to her.'

'She trusted him.'

He looked upwards. 'She spends all her time in her room?'

'Yes, it's so worrying. She won't eat and she won't speak to me.'

'Would you like me to talk to her?'

'You?'

'Yes,' said Newman, persuasively. 'Emily and I always got on very well. She adored horses so she'd spend hours watching me at work in the forge. She talked all the time then. If a horse was well behaved, I'd let her hold the bridle sometimes. Emily liked that.'

'Nathan always talked about buying her a pony of her own.'

'Let me see if I can draw her out.'

Win was hesitant. 'I'm not sure that it would do any good.'

'It will certainly do no harm. Bring her down.'

'Well…'

'And leave us alone for five minutes,' he suggested.

Winifred considered the request for some time before she agreed to it. At length she went upstairs and Newman could hear a muted discussion with her daughter. Emily's voice then rose in protest but it was instantly silenced by her mother's rebuke. After another minute, tentative footsteps came down the stairs and the girl entered the room.

Newman stood up and gave her a welcoming smile.

'Hello, Emily,' he said.

'Hello.'

'I haven't seen you for a while. Come and sit down so that I can have a proper look at you.' She glanced nervously around the room then perched on the edge of an upright chair near the door. 'That's better,' he said, resuming his own seat. 'I was just talking to your mother about the way that you used to hold the horses for me at the forge.'

'Yes.'

'You enjoyed that, didn't you?' Emily nodded. 'I don't work as a blacksmith any more but I've still got my own horse and cart. If ever you want to come for a ride, you only have to ask. You can take the reins.'

'Thank you.'

'It's important to get out. You mustn't lock yourself away in your room like a hermit. We all miss Nathan terribly,' he went on, lowering his voice to a soothing whisper. 'When I take my wife to church on Sundays, the first prayer I say is for your father. Do you pray for him as well?'

'All the time.'

'But we haven't seen you in church for weeks. You mustn't be afraid of what other people may say,' he told her. 'You've just as much right as anyone to go to St Mary's. There are one or two narrow-minded busybodies who may turn up their noses when they see anyone from this family but you've nothing at all to be embarrassed about, Emily. Your father was innocent.'

'I know,' she said, 'that's what makes it so hard to bear.'

'You loved him dearly, didn't you?' said Newman. 'Nathan was so proud of you. He was always talking about his lovely daughter. That's how he thought of you, Emily – as his own child. And you looked on him as your real father, didn't you?'

'I tried.'

'You were a proper family, all four of you.'

She shifted on her seat. 'Can I go now, Mr Newman?'

'Am I upsetting you in some way?'

'No, no.'

'Because we both want the same thing, Emily, you know that, don't you? I'll strain every bone in my body to prove that your father did not commit that crime. That's why I got that petition together,' he said, 'and you saw how many people signed that.'

'You did so much for us, Mr Newman.'

'Then let me do a little more,' he offered, spreading his arms. 'Let me help you through this period of mourning. Share your grief, Emily. Talk to your mother about it. Come to church with us and show the town that you can bear this loss because you know in your heart that your father was not a killer. Stand up and be seen.'

'I can't, Mr Newman,' she said, shaking her head.

'Why not?'

'Don't ask me that.'

'But we're entitled to know. Your father was the best friend I ever had, Emily,' he said, soulfully, 'and I stood by him until the end. I'll not give up on him now. Nathan may be dead but he still needs us to speak up for him, to show everyone how hard we'll fight to protect his good name. You care, don't you?'

'Yes,' she said, tearfully. 'I care more than anyone.'

'Then why can't you open your heart to us?'

She stood up. 'Let me go,' she bleated, taking out a handkerchief.

'Wait,' he said, getting up to cross over to her. 'Just tell me one thing, Emily. Why are you pushing away the people who love you? Mourn for your father with the rest of us.'

'No, Mr Newman!'

'It's the right and proper way.'

'I'm sorry but I can't do it.'

'Why ever not?'

'You wouldn't understand.'

'Why not?' he pressed.

She looked him in the eyes. 'Because I feel too ashamed.'

After a hearty breakfast and a discussion as to how the investigation would proceed, Superintendent Edward Tallis was driven in a trap to Ashford Station to catch a train back to London. Both detectives were pleased to see him go but it was Victor Leeming who really savoured his departure. Slapping his thigh, he let out a controlled whoop of delight.

'He's gone at last!' he cried.

'He was only here for about twelve hours,' Colbeck pointed out.

'It seemed much longer somehow. If I have to spend a night away from my wife, I'd rather not do it under the same roof as Mr Tallis. It unsettled me, knowing that His Lordship was only a few doors away. I took ages to get off and I expect that you did as well.'

'No, I slept extremely well.'