Philippa Carr - Song of the Siren

“I was sitting in the summer house,” said Jane, “with my sewing, as I always do, and she was playing nearby with her shuttlecock. She was batting it up and down and was calling out now and then as she always does; and then suddenly I realised there was no sound. I immediately put down my sewing and went to look. I couldn’t see her anywhere. I presumed she had come in to see you.”

“But, no,” I said. “She has not been to me.”

“She was talking about you and how she was going to show you the new bat she had … so I thought …”

Alarm was beginning to stir within me.

“She is a wilful child,” I said. “She has been told not to stray away but to keep you within sight.”

“We were only in the garden. I think she must have come in to see you.”

I refused to face the idea which was beginning to come to me.

“We must find her at once,” I said.

Harriet came in and when I told her, she said she would search the house. I said I would do the same in the garden.

She must be somewhere there, I thought. I remembered the occasion when she had hidden somewhere to tease us and another when she had gone to sleep in the shrubbery.

Jane was growing more and more worried. She was blaming herself, but I knew how mercurial Clarissa could be and that it was impossible to watch her all the time.

We searched everywhere and in an hour’s time we had not found her. Now we were beginning to get very frightened.

Benjie and Gregory, who had been out on estate matters, came in and joined in the search. It was Benjie who found a green feather in the shrubbery. We recognised it as coming from her shuttlecock.

Then I feared the worst.

Harriet said: “She will be safe somewhere. It reminds me of the time you were lost and found in Enderby Hall.”

I didn’t want to think of Enderby Hall ever again and I was terrified for Clarissa.

My fears were now beginning to take a definite form. I thought: He couldn’t. He wouldn’t do such a thing. But I knew he was capable of anything.

I went to the tree I had mentioned—the old oak where we had put our notes and of which I had spoken to Hessenfield. I put in my hand.

Inside was a note and with trembling hands I opened it and read:

My darling, do not be distressed. The child is well and happy. You must join us. Meet me in this spot tonight. I will be ready for you.

H.

I stood there crunching the paper in my hand. I could not describe my feelings. Relief that she was safe; pride, I think, because he had wanted her so much that he risked his life to take her; excitement at the thought of being with him again; and a certain desperate determination to be true from now on to Benjie. My feelings were all so jumbled. I was wildly happy and desperately sad all in the matter of seconds. My mind kept wandering on to the night, to seeing him again, to flying with him … where? … to the coast of course. I knew that a boat would be waiting there. I knew that this night I could begin a life of excitement and exhilaration. I could be reunited with my child, who was meaning more to me every day. The child and her father.

That was what I wanted. What was the use of denying it? This sober life in the country was something I was not meant for. Damaris would have enjoyed it. And Damaris had been denied it. How happy she would have been married to Matt and having children. But I had spoilt that for her. I could so easily spoil Benjie’s life … but I must not. There was enough on my conscience already.

What should I do?

There were two alternatives. No, three. One would lose me my child, and I was determined that should not be. It was that I should say nothing of this, do nothing … not go to meet him. Refuse to see him until he went away taking Clarissa with him. Another way was to show the note to Benjie and Gregory and Harriet. To let them know that he had Clarissa, who he was, and to have soldiers surround the shrubbery and take him at the time when I was to meet him. He would have to give up Clarissa then and that would be the end of him. That would be the loyal course of action—to Benjie and to my country. The last alternative was to go to the meeting place in secret to see him …

I knew what would happen. He would carry me off, by force if need be. Knowing him, I realised what was in his mind.

I could not return to the house yet. My thoughts were in a turmoil.

How could I let them go on searching frantically for Clarissa when I knew where she was? Yet how could I let them know that she was in the keeping of the Jacobite leader who was a wanted man.

Finally I went back to the house. Benjie put an arm about me. His face was white and strained.

“Where have you been? I was beginning to get anxious about you.”

That was the moment to show him the paper which I had screwed up and put inside the bodice of my gown. My hand went to it. It was the sight of Benjie, who loved me so much, who was such a good man. But the moment passed and I did not mention it. I went on letting them believe that Clarissa was still lost.

So the search went on. I shut myself in my bedroom and wrestled with myself.

How could he have done this? He had no right to take her. But what would be the use of talking to Hessenfield about rights? He knew only one law and that was his own. What was right would always be what he considered best for him.

An hour passed and still I was undecided.

They were all out searching the district. Jane Farmer was frantic and I almost told her to put her out of her misery.

What folly! How could I?

I had come to a decision. I would go and see him. I would insist on his bringing back the child.

I put on a cloak and went down to the shrubbery. I waited there in the shadow of the trees.

I did not wait long. I was caught from behind and held against him. I heard his low laughter as he pressed his lips against my ear.

“You are mad,” I said. “This could cost you your life. Where is the child?”

“Safe. We are going to France tonight. My mission here is done. I have everything I came for … and more. My daughter. I adore her already.”

“Where is she?” I insisted.

“Safe,” he repeated. “Come on. The sooner we’re away the better. I have a notion they are on my trail. We have to get to the coast. I have a horse here to take us. There is a boat a little way along the coast … at a nice secluded spot.”

“You really are mad. Do you think I am coming with you?”

“Of course you are coming. Don’t waste time.”

I pulled myself away from him. “I came to tell you that …”

He caught me to him laughing and began kissing me.

“That you love me,” he said between kisses.

“Do you think I am as cruel and callous as you are? Do you think I can just walk out on my husband because you have come back?”

“I am more to you than he can ever be. I am the father of our child, remember.”

“I wish I had never met you, Hessenfield,” I said.

“You lie, dear Carlotta. Admit it. That was love, was it not? Do you remember how you refused to betray me? You could have done so now.”

“Yes, I could, and how do you know that I have not? Perhaps a troop of soldiers is waiting to take you now.”

“I was ready to risk that,” he said. “And I’ll tell you why. I didn’t believe it possible. Come, sweetheart, we don’t want to tempt the fates, do we?”

“Where is my daughter? Give her back to me and go and I will tell no one that you have been here.”

He laughed at me. “Your daughter is very happy. We get on very well. She was delighted to come with me.”

“Where is she?”

“At sea,” he said. “Where you and I will be this night. This night, dear Carlotta. Think of it. There are so many memories. No one can ever be to me what you have been. Never shall I forget that brief period when we were together, you and I.”

“I cannot go,” I said. “You must understand that.”

He took my arm suddenly; then I was lifted from the ground. My cloak dropped from my shoulders. He was carrying me out of the shrubbery. There at its edge was a horse.

He put me on the saddle and leapt up beside me.

I am not sure how much I struggled. I did not entirely want to. Hessenfield’s adventurous spirit called to mine but I kept seeing Benjie’s face and I pictured him stricken as he would be if he knew that I had willingly gone away.

It was only a mile or so to the coast. There was a crescent moon which gave out a faint light and I could see the Eyot lying out there on a sea that was as calm as a lake.

He gave a low whistle and I saw a figure appear from the beach. It was a man who had evidently been lurking there.

“All well, sir,” said the man.

“Good,” replied Hessenfield.

He dismounted and lifted me down. The man took the horse and as Hessenfield dragged me over the shingle I heard the horse being ridden away at a gallop.

A small boat was bobbing about on the sea. A man was holding the oars, waiting.

We waded out to it the water up to our waists before reaching it. Hessenfield lifted me in.

“Lose no time,” said Hessenfield.

The man started to row out towards the Eyot. There was silence. Then Hessenfield said: “Faster. They’re on the beach. By God, we were just in time.”

I could see vague figures on the beach. A shot was fired. It narrowly missed the boat.

“We’ll soon be out of range,” said Hessenfield.

“We should have been well away but for your romantic adventures,” said the man.

“I know. But we’re going to be well away in any case. We’re nearly there.” We had rounded the island and I saw the ship.

“Safe!” said Hessenfield.

We came to rest by the side of the ship, a rope ladder was put down, I was sent up first. Hands reached out to drag me in.

Then in a few seconds Hessenfield was standing beside me.

He put his arm about me and laughed.

“Mission accomplished!” he said. “The most successful I ever carried out. We’d better leave at once. Come,” he went on, “you want to see our daughter.”

She was lying there asleep clutching her shuttlecock. I stooped over her and held her close to me.

She awoke.

“Mamma,” she said.

“Yes, darling …”

She opened her eyes wide.

“I’m on a big ship,” she said. “I’ve got a new father.”

Hessenfield knelt beside us.

“And you’re quite pleased with him, are you not? Tell your mother so.”

“He’s going to give me a new shuttlecock,” she said.

“You haven’t told her you’re pleased with me,” persisted Hessenfield.

She sat up and put her arms about his neck.

“This is his ship,” she said. “He’s going to show me how it sails.”

I WAS THRUST INTO an entirely new scene. At the beginning it was so bewildering that I was more or less bemused by it. In the first place I had renewed that extremely demanding, satisfying, exhilarating and incomparable life with Hessenfield. We resumed it as though it had never been interrupted; and although at first I pretended to be outraged. Hessenfield quickly put an end to that and made me admit, if not in actual words, that I was as enchanted with his company as he was with mine.

It was not unalloyed joy, of course, for it could not be quite as it had been on that first occasion. Although I cannot make any great excuses for myself and have to admit that I was secretly delighted to have been abducted, seduced, raped or whatever name I could put to it when I was trying to make a case for myself, I can honestly say that I felt a deep remorse for what I had done to Benjie and I was glad that I had left my cloak in the shrubbery, which would indicate that I had been taken by force. At least he would not believe that I had gone willingly; and although his grief would not be assuaged, at least he would not think that I had betrayed him.

Poor Benjie, he had lost both me and Clarissa, and I could not be happy because I must think of him.

The crossing was smooth and in a short time we had reached the coast of France.

Clarissa was excited by everything that was happening and, childlike, accepted this extraordinary adventure as a matter of course. She did ask once when her father and grandfather were coming with Harriet. I said evasively that we should have to wait and see.