The Other Cathy Read Online Free Page A

later a parcel came for Cathy containing the three volumes of Wuthering Heights which she had secretly ordered from London.
    Now, as Emma reached the end of a chapter, Cathy breathed a sigh of deep contentment, and said, ‘It’s just like me and Seth, isn’t it?’
    Emma was astonished. ‘Whatever do you mean?’
    ‘Why, Cathy in the book and Heathcliff. It’s just like us.’
    ‘Oh no,’ said Emma with firmness, “there’s really no simi larity at all.’
    Without knowing why, she felt deeply troubled. But be fore she could say any more the door opened and Chloe entered the conservatory, buttoning her black velvet cuffs.
    ‘I declare, those geraniums are wilting,’ she said fussily. ‘ That fool Brigg can’t have watered them properly. He imagines he knows more about the care of plants than I do.’
    She marched to the garden door intent on having it out with the gardener forthwith. Then she paused, her head cocked to one side.
    ‘Isn’t that the dog cart? It sounds as if your papa is back already, Cathy.’
    Seconds later the door from the house burst open and Randolph strode in. His face was inflamed with anger.
    ‘Damn the man! How dare he come here under false pre tences, tricking honest, decent folk into seeking his acquain tance!’  Glancing over his shoulder, he shouted, ‘Hoad, where the devil are you with that whisky?’
    The butler, a short thickset man with bushy side whiskers, appeared bearing a decanter and glass on a silver tray. Randolph helped himself to a large measure and drank deeply.
    His sister, looking bewildered, said in a thin, anxious voice, ‘You surely can’t be referring to that nice Mr Cliffe?’
    ‘Cliffe! That’s not his name, curse him! I hold you to blame, Chloe, for letting me in for this. You met the wretched man in the village, and you should have recognised him at once, just as I did.’
    ‘But I cannot recollect ever meeting him before. And when he was introduced to us in the bank, he behaved as if we were complete strangers. Emma, you will bear me out in that.’ .
    Emma nodded confirmation. Her heart was suddenly beat ing painfully.
    ‘But who is he, Uncle? What is his real name? And what is it that is so dreadful?’
    ‘You do well to ask his name, lass, and I’ll tell you. It’s Matthew Sutcliffe – not Cliffe, but Sutcliffe. There, now you know!’
    In a daze, Emma heard her aunt’s shocked protest. ‘No, Randolph, it cannot be him. You must be mistaken. This man is rich and respectable, a gentleman. And he is so much older.’
    ‘A man changes in fifteen years,’ Randolph grunted furiously as he refilled his glass with whisky and took a long draught.
    Emma clenched her hands together in an effort to stop their trembling.
    ‘Uncle Randolph,’ she faltered, “are you – are you truly saying that the man who has come to live at Oakroyd House is the one who ... who ...’ She could not continue, her throat would not allow the words to pass.
    There was a silence and she was inconsequentially aware of the rapid ticking of the cuckoo clock on the conservatory wall. Randolph brought his gaze from the empty glass in his hand, and looked at her. He drew a long, deep breath and spoke with heavy reluctance.
    ‘Aye, that’s right, lass! He’s Matthew Sutcliffe, the man who killed your father.’
     

Chapter Three
     
    Randolph left it to Cathy’s doctor to decide whether she should go to the Donkey Fair, and Bernard Mottram made a special visit on Saturday morning to examine her.
    ‘Will you promise not to get overexcited, and to wrap up well against the night air?’ he demanded in a severe voice.
    ‘Oh yes, Bernard. Anything – as long as you’ll let me go.’
    ‘Very well then!’ Unscrewing his stethoscope and putting it away in his bag, he whispered to Emma, ‘She is so eager, it would do her greater harm to refuse.’ In a normal tone, he went on, ‘As a matter of fact, I thought of going to the fair myself. Perhaps we could join