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The Emma Harte 7-Book Collection: A Woman of Substance, Hold the Dream, To Be the Best, Emma’s Secret, Unexpected Blessings, Just Rewards, Breaking the Rules. Barbara Taylor BradfordЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Emma Harte 7-Book Collection: A Woman of Substance, Hold the Dream, To Be the Best, Emma’s Secret, Unexpected Blessings, Just Rewards, Breaking the Rules - Barbara Taylor Bradford


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there, below the rock.’

      ‘Yer’ll see nowt but more rocks,’ she said bluntly.

      Edwin chuckled, and began to chip away at the crevice. Emma watched him patiently, shaking her head. She was quite certain Edwin was wasting his time, but she had decided to humour him when he had first lost his shilling. After ten minutes of constant chipping he had made a hole in the crevice about two inches in diameter. He lowered his head and pressed one eye to the hole, gripping the sides of the rock to balance himself.

      ‘Can yer see owt, then?’ asked Emma.

      Edwin straightened up and shook his head. ‘No, it’s all black.’ He pulled the nail out of his pocket, and half turned his head so he could see Emma. ‘Edge closer to me, Emma, and listen very carefully.’ She did as he told her, shuffling along the ledge and squeezing up to him. They both bent towards the hole and he dropped the nail into it. There was no sound at all for a few seconds and then they heard a distinct tinkle as it landed.

      ‘Now! Did you hear that, Emma?’

      ‘Yes, I did. But it might have dropped on another rock, that’s all.’

      ‘No, I don’t think it did. It took too long to fall. It’s on the ground,’ Edwin cried firmly. He returned the implements to his jacket pocket. ‘Move back along the ledge and climb down, but go slowly, so you don’t slip. I’ll follow you.’

      Emma lowered herself on to the boulders below the ledge, backed down them cautiously, and jumped to the ground. Edwin was right behind her. He took off his jacket, threw it carelessly on one side, and rolled up his sleeves. Emma stood watching him as he fished around in the sack, a sceptical look on her face. ‘What are yer going ter do now?’ she asked.

      ‘I’m going to remove all the moss and bits of heather and weeds growing here,’ he exclaimed, indicating the base and lower sides of the rock. ‘And you can help me.’ He handed her a garden trowel and took up a small spade himself. ‘You work at that side, and I’ll work here.’

      Emma thought this whole idea was a waste of time and energy; nevertheless, she began to work vigorously, digging out clumps of heather and moss which had crusted the rock for years. After a while she began to perspire. She put down the trowel, rolled up her sleeves, and opened the collar of her dress. Feeling more comfortable, she began to dig again. After about twenty minutes of hard toil they had accomplished a remarkable job of cleaning up the face and base of the rock.

      Edwin stepped back and regarded it thoughtfully. ‘Look, Emma,’ he said. He took hold of her hand and pulled her to him. He pointed to the rock. ‘Do you see how the rock itself is more clearly outlined, now that we’ve removed all the overgrowth. It’s not part of the entire formation of the Crags at all. See how it has been wedged in between the great boulders. No rock could fall so accurately, Emma. I am certain it was placed there.’

      Emma nodded her head. She had to agree. He was right, and she said so, adding, ‘But, Edwin, it’s still a fair size. How do yer think we’re going ter shift it?’

      He strode over to the rock and said, with absolute self-confidence, ‘I am going to make this crevice here larger.’ He tapped the central rock, and pointed out a small space at the base, between the rock itself and the soaring Crags rising up behind it. ‘Then I am going to use a crowbar and a wedge to push the rock away from the Crags.’

      ‘It’ll never work, Edwin. And yer might hurt yerself.’

      ‘No, I won’t, Emma. And I’ve thought it all out very carefully.’

      Working with the hammer and chisel, Edwin had soon made the space big enough to take the crowbar. He put the crowbar into the hole and wedged a small but strong log behind it, placing this on the ground to the left of the rock. ‘Stand back, Emma,’ he warned, ‘go over there by the trees. The rock will fall forward, and I don’t want you standing in its path.’ Using all of his strength, Edwin pressed on the crowbar, pushing the protruding end of it on to the log, using it as a lever to force the rock away from the Crags. But it did not move. Edwin began to sweat profusely, and his arms ached, but he forced himself against the crowbar determinedly.

      Emma held her breath, clasping her hands together. Edwin was wrong. It would not work. She had no sooner thought this than she saw it moving.

      ‘Edwin! Edwin! I think I saw it coming away,’ she shouted.

      ‘I know,’ he gasped, ‘I felt it myself.’ With a final thrust of energy he pressed against the crowbar, and, as he did, the rock toppled forward as he had predicted it would. A small aperture on the face of Ramsden Crags was revealed. This was about eighteen inches wide and two feet high. Edwin could not conceal his excitement. He swung around.

      ‘Look, Emma! There’s a hole here,’ he cried triumphantly. He knelt down and peered into it, and then he inched his head inside. ‘It’s like a little tunnel. And here’s the shilling and the nail!’ He picked them up and pulled back. He held them out to show her, his face wreathed in smiles.

      ‘Where do yer think it goes?’ Emma asked, running to join him at the aperture.

      ‘I don’t know. Under the Crags, I suspect. They do stretch back for miles, you know. I’m going in.’

      ‘Oh, Edwin, do yer think yer should?’ A worried look settled on her face. ‘It might be dangerous. What if yer started a rockslide and got stuck in there?’

      Edwin stood up and pulled out his handkerchief. He mopped his damp face and brushed his hair back. ‘I’ll only go in a little way. And I brought candles and matches. They’re in the sack. Would you get them for me, Emma, and that length of rope, please.’

      ‘Yes, course I will.’ She brought him the items he had requested. ‘I’m going in with yer,’ she announced.

      He stared at her and frowned. ‘I don’t think so. Not at first. Let me go and investigate, and then I’ll come back for you.’

      She compressed her lips and said stoutly, ‘I’m not afraid, yer knows.’

      ‘Yes, I know that. But I think you should stay here, just in case I need something.’ As he spoke Edwin tied the rope around his waist. He handed her the other end. ‘Hold on to this. There could be a labyrinth of tunnels in there. I’ve been reading up on rock climbing and potholing, and potholers always tie a rope around themselves, for safety.’

      Emma, who was now visibly impressed that Edwin’s deductions had been accurate, immediately saw the sense of this. ‘Well, just be careful—’ She looked at Edwin, so tall and muscular, and then at the aperture. ‘How are yer going ter get in there? That’s what I wants ter know. It’s ever so tiny.’

      ‘I’ll have to squeeze in, and then crawl along.’

      ‘Yer’ll get yerself all mucky, Edwin Fairley. Cook’ll wonder what yer’ve been up ter. Yer’ll cop it!’

      Edwin’s mouth twitched and he burst out laughing. ‘Emma, do stop worrying so much, and about trivialities. Cook’s not going to say anything. We’ve come this far. Let’s at least complete the project.’

      Emma sighed. ‘All right. But go ever so slow like, and if yer needs me, tug on the rope. Promise?’

      ‘I promise.’

      It was with a certain amount of trepidation that Emma watched Edwin disappear into the aperture. Slowly the length of rope unwound itself, as he moved further into the tunnel, until she was finally clinging to the very end of it, straining against the outer wall of the Crags. A flicker of anxiety crossed her face, and she lowered her head and called into the tunnel. ‘Edwin! Are yer safe?’

      ‘Yes,’ came back his voice, echoing hollowly as if from a long distance.

      ‘Yer’ve used up all the rope,’ she cried, her voice rising shrilly.

      ‘I know. Let go of it.’

      ‘No! I won’t!’

      ‘Emma,


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