The Lake House. Helen Phifer
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popping as the fire took hold, and Eleanor began to pray for the people inside. Agnes looked across at the man.
‘Shouldn’t we be going in to help get people out?’
‘No, we should not. We would be crushed or get caught in the fire. I’m afraid it’s hopeless.’
Agnes glared at him. ‘But we might be able to help!’
‘Or you might die. What would you prefer?’
Eleanor reached out for his hand. ‘Thank you; you’ve saved our lives. I’m Eleanor Sloane and this ungrateful wretch is my sister, Agnes.’
He took hold of her hand. ‘You’re very welcome. James Beckett at your service, and that sideshow you were very much enjoying was mine. I hunted far and wide to find those exhibits.’
The fire engines began to appear and they watched as the last throngs of people were led from the gates. The men began to form up to take it in turns to try and fight the fire.
‘You ladies should stay here or go home, but I better go and help them.’
‘Thank you; we live at 3 Park Place if you need anything. We would be more than glad to help. It’s the least we could do.’
Eleanor watched as he jogged towards the men who were lining up, passing buckets of water along to each other. He was nice even if he did work in a fairground. Her father would be furious with them. With her especially for letting Agnes talk her into bringing her here, but she had a feeling that tonight had been worth the days of anger that were to come. She grabbed her sister’s arm, dragging her away from the burning wreckage in front of them.
‘Come now; we best get home before Mother begins to worry where we are.’ As they turned to leave she stole one last glance at James, who had thrown his cape to the floor and had pushed the sleeves of his soot-stained white shirt up to his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms. As if he knew she was looking he glanced in their direction. His eyes meeting hers, he performed a small bow. Eleanor giggled and her sister looked at her.
‘Please tell me you don’t find that man attractive. He works in a freak show of all places.’
‘It’s none of your business who I find attractive and he doesn’t just work in a freak show, as you so rudely put it; he owns the whole thing. So he’s a businessman and he is a lot more attractive than that beastly old man, Thornton, who Father keeps inviting round for dinner.’
Agnes looked over at the blackened tent they had been inside not fifteen minutes ago. ‘He was a businessman. There’s nothing left now.’
‘Come on, let’s go home…’
They set off, walking the short distance to their home, which overlooked the park. The four-storey town house came into view, every window brightly lit. Eleanor could make out the figure of her mother in one of them and her father in another. ‘They are either waiting for us to come home or have been watching the fire.’
Agnes stared at her sister. ‘Let’s not tell them where we’ve been. We can say we went for a stroll.’
Eleanor began to laugh so much that her eyes watered. ‘Agnes, I have no idea if I look like you but you are covered in black soot and smell as if you’ve been standing too close to one of Arthur’s bonfires.’
Agnes for the first time looked at Eleanor and also began to laugh. ‘Oh my, I think we are in a lot of trouble because you look like the chimney sweep. How did we get so dirty?’
They both began to giggle as the front door opened and the tall figure of their father blocked out the light. A yelp or a scream, Eleanor wasn’t quite sure what it was, filled the air as their mother pushed their father to one side and ran down the steps.
‘Oh my goodness, I’ve never been so worried. Look at the state of you two. Where have you been?’
She pulled them both close, hugging them, and they hugged her back.
‘Sorry, Mother, we went to see the fair.’
Their mother pulled away from them both. ‘Well, what matters now is that you’re both safe and home in one piece. Come inside. You smell terrible. A hot bath and your nightdresses on before we talk about any of this terrible business.’
She led them by the hand up the steps to the house. Their father nodded at them both.
‘Do what your mother said and then we’ll talk about your fraternising with those people without our permission.’
Eleanor turned her head to look at him, catching the sigh that escaped his lips as his shoulders relaxed. He wasn’t as angry as she’d thought. She said a prayer for all the people back at the fairground and for James, because she wanted to see him again.
1 September 1929
The workmen had almost finished building the large house on the edge of Lake Windermere and were relieved it was almost over. The slate and limestone house was impressive. Although not as large as some of the homes along this stretch of the lake, it was still a sight to behold. It was the cellar that the builders didn’t like; there was a real sense of desolation down there. There was a problem with the drains, from which a terrible stench was emanating, and they had drawn matches to see who was going down to put it right. They had argued and bickered amongst themselves for the last thirty minutes. Not one of them was brave enough to admit that for some unknown reason they were terrified to go down there now daylight was fading fast.
In the end it had been Fred and Billy who had agreed to do it for an extra two hours’ pay. The family hadn’t moved in yet but last week there had been a delivery of packing boxes and crates, which had been stored in the cellar. They would be moving in in the next few days but they wouldn’t be able to if the house still smelt this bad. Fred and Billy had laughed and joked to their friends to send a search party out to look for them if they weren’t at the pub by eight o’clock. As they’d stood watching the others drive away a silence had descended. Neither of them particularly wanted to go back inside to work now the others had left, especially not in the cellar.
It had been Fred who had gone back in first. ‘The quicker we get it done, the quicker we’ll be out of here and home for tea.’
Billy watched him. A gut feeling that something wasn’t quite right made his feet reluctant to follow his friend, who was ten years older and probably a lot wiser than him. He had to force himself to go inside. They took the handheld lamps so they could at least see what they would be doing down there. With the house just being built the cellar was one big space with some shelves lining one wall, ready to store anything else that was surplus to requirements upstairs out of the way. Fred led the way with Billy close behind and they walked across the space until they found the corner where the drain that led into the sewerage pipe was. There was an awful smell, so Billy had tied his handkerchief around his nose. Fred laughed at him.
‘You great soft bugger, what’s the matter with you?’
They reached the drain and it took the pair of them to lift the heavy-duty cover from it, both of them putting their hands through the gaps in the bars and pulling at the same time. Billy bent his knees, gripped the iron cover and then let out a scream so high-pitched that if you’d asked Fred what it sounded like he would have said a girl who’d just had a spider run across her hand. Billy leapt back from the hole in the ground and Fred did the same, as if he had no idea why but seemed to think it was a good idea.
‘Jesus Christ, Billy, what are you trying to do – give me a bloody heart attack? What’s the matter with you, lad?’
‘Something touched my hand, Fred. It brushed against my fingers and it felt freezing cold.’
Fred started to laugh. He looked at his friend’s face, which was almost glowing it was so white, and he really began to chuckle.
‘You’re an idiot. What did you think it was? Someone trying to hold your hand from the sewers?’
‘I don’t know what the hell it was, Fred, but I’m telling