Philippa Carr - The Changeling

As we sat down he said: “Yes, it was not strictly fair, was it? It wasn’t according to ethics. But I am sorry for the child. She interests me. I think she has suffered considerably.”

“All she wants is a normal happy life … with parents who love her.”

“She has lost her mother at birth and her father cannot forgive her for coming into the world at the cost of his wife’s life. It is not the first time such a situation has arisen.”

“It is so unfair to the child. Sometimes I hate him for what he has done to Belinda.”

“He doesn’t mean any harm. He just wants to forget … and she doesn’t help him

“But it is years since it happened.”

“I know. There’s nothing we can do about him … but we can help the child, and that is what I am trying to do.”

“You are succeeding. You have made her very happy, but she should not be led to believe that she can get what she wants by cheating.”

“It is often the case in real life.”

“That may be and it has to be deplored. At least it is not the way a child should be taught. It is really telling her that this is the way to succeed.”

“You are a lady of great virtue, I see.”

“That’s not the point. We are dealing with a child’s impressionable mind. She thinks you are wonderful and what you do will seem to her right. I just feel that—small matter as it may seem to you—it was the wrong way to deal with it.”

“Then I offer my humble apologies to you but I think there are times when the rules can be stretched for the sake of a child’s happiness.”

“Happiness? Every one of those children would have been happy to win. It was a game … a test … a competition … and one of them was helped to the winning post.”

“I give you my word that I will not repeat my folly, and if I had known how you would feel, I should never have done it in the first place. But she so desperately wanted to win … and, poor child, she has her troubles and I just thought I would let her have this small triumph.”

“You are very kind and I expect I am making a fuss about something which is not of great importance.”

“I know how you feel and you are right, of course, and I am wrong … but I was overcome by my feelings for the child.”

“You have done a great deal to help her. I thank you for that. It has given her the happiest Christmas she has ever known. So let us say no more. I expect I am carping a bit.”

“You would never carp. You are much too sweet and kind … and delightful in every way.”

I began to feel a trifle uneasy, for he had brought his chair closer to mine.

“Rebecca,” he went on, “I have been trying to tell you something for a long time.”

“Trying?” I said.

“Trying to choose the right moment and feeling afraid that I might choose the wrong one and speak too soon.”

“What are you trying to tell me?”

“Haven’t you guessed? You know how I feel about you.”

I drew back and looked at him steadily. He smiled at me very tenderly.

“I love you, Rebecca,” he said. “I did from the moment I saw you. I know we haven’t known each other long but I knew at once. It was a sort of rapport. Your sweetness and kindness to the children … your anxieties about Belinda … and taking in that other child, Lucie. It shows me that you are indeed a very special person. I have hoped and dreamed. I can see us together … all of us. You need have no qualms in that direction. Rebecca, I love you and want you to marry me.”

“Don’t say any more,” I interrupted. “I am flattered and honored. I do regard you very highly. But I could not marry you.”

“I have spoken too soon. That was what I feared I might do. Forgive me, Rebecca. Let us go on as we were. Think about it and we’ll talk later.”

“No, Oliver, that isn’t any good. As a matter of fact I am going to marry someone else.”

He stared at me in dismay.

“There is a secret understanding between us. It is not at all sudden. We’ve known each other all our lives and it is something which is … well … inevitable. It was arranged only a little while ago … at the beginning of the season. So you see …”

“Yes,” he said soberly, “I see.”

“I am sorry, Oliver. I do like you and I appreciate what you have done for Belinda. I shall never forget that.”

“Perhaps I hoped for too much.”

I shook my head. “If I had been free … if it hadn’t been the way it is …”

“This is definite, is it?”

“Yes.”

“And you love this man?”

“Absolutely.”

“Without any doubts?”

“Yes, without any doubts.”

“And yet it is a secret? Is that because your family do not approve?”

“Oh no … they approve entirely.”

“Your stepfather …?”

“Oh … no … not him. He doesn’t know. I should not take any notice of him for I don’t regard him as family. I mean my grandparents who brought me up … and his people. They are great friends and are delighted.”

“So they all know and your stepfather does not?”

I nodded. “We can’t be married for another year … then everybody will know.”

He took my hand and kissed it. “There is nothing I can do but wish you all the happiness you deserve.”

“Thank you, Oliver. It is good of you to be so understanding.”

The door of the summerhouse burst open and Belinda and Lucie were standing there.

“We’ve been looking all over the place for you,” scolded Belinda. “Haven’t we, Lucie?”

“We have been right round the garden and then Belinda said, ‘What about the summerhouse? Perhaps they’re in there, doing new clues for another treasure hunt.’ ”

“No,” said Oliver. “We were not doing that. One treasure hunt is enough for one Christmas. Familiarity breeds contempt. Miss Rebecca and I were just having a little chat.”

“It seemed a serious sort of chat,” said Belinda. “When are we going to ride?”

“Now if you wish,” said Oliver, turning to me. “If that is all right for you?”

“Yes, it is,” I said.

“What shall we look for?” demanded Belinda. “We looked for brown horses last time.”

“It will be black this time,” said Oliver. “They will be hard to find.”

“Black horses, black horses,” cried Belinda. “I’ll find one. Come on. Don’t waste time.”

She went to Oliver and put her arm through his.

Belinda came to my room that evening. It was just before their bedtime and she would soon be having her glass of milk and biscuits before washing her teeth and going to bed. She was already undressed and in her dressing gown and slippers. I was surprised to see her but felt a thrill of gratification that she had shown a desire to be with me. Our relationship had certainly undergone a change and that gave me great pleasure.

“How nice of you to come and see me, Belinda,” I said. “I see you are almost ready for bed.”

“Leah will bring in the milk soon.”

“Yes. Did you want to tell me something?”

She was silent for a few seconds, then she burst out: “You’re going to marry Oliver, aren’t you?”

“No,” I said.

“I think he is going to ask you. He likes you a lot.”

“What gives you that impression?”

“The way he looks at you and smiles when he talks. He’s always talking about you.”

“You have become very observant, Belinda.”

“I know about these things and I know he wants to marry you. I want him to.”

“Why?”

“Because I could come and live with you. We could leave here and be in his house. You and I, Lucie and Oliver. We could have games and treasure hunts all the time.”

“Life is not all games and treasure hunts, you know.”

“It’s always fun with him. I think it would be lovely. The four of us … and we could take Leah, of course.”

“Before you make too many arrangements, Belinda, I must tell you that I am not going to marry him.”

“He will ask you to.”

“Two people have to want to marry before they do.”

“He’ll ask. I thought he was asking you in the summerhouse when we came in. We should have waited and then you could have announced it.”

“Listen, Belinda. I know you like him very much and would relish him as a brother-in-law but life doesn’t work out as smoothly as that. We can’t always have what we want, especially if it involves other people. I am not going to marry him.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to marry him.”

“Everyone wants to marry when they get old.”

“How can you know?”

“Well, they talk about it. It’s what you have to do when you get old.”

“You don’t have to. And I am not going to marry Mr. Gerson.”

“But he wants to marry you.”

“How do you know?”

“I can tell.”

“Then you are very wise.”

“You are not planning to marry someone else, are you?”

I hesitated a moment too long and she was very perceptive.

“I believe you want to,” she said accusingly.

“Look, Belinda, you don’t know anything about these things. I am not going to marry Mr. Gerson.”

“But why not? It would be wonderful. If you don’t, it will spoil everything. We could all be together. It would be such fun.”

She looked as though she were going to burst into tears. I put my arms round her.

“Things don’t always work out as people want them to. People marry because they believe they have found the one and only person with whom they can live happily. You’ll understand one day. Now, go and have your milk. It will be getting cold.”

Her face hardened and she flounced out of the room.

I asked myself: Why did I think she had changed? She wants everything her own way … even my marriage!

IT WAS LATE MAY before we went to Cornwall. I had been receiving Pedrek’s letters regularly, but they were not enough, so it was with great delight that I set out. Belinda and Lucie were delighted at the prospect—Miss Stringer slightly less so. As for Leah, it was difficult to know what she felt. I was sure she would be glad to see her native town, but she would have to pay frequent visits to her mother and I supposed that was a less attractive proposition.

Life had run smoothly since Christmas. Belinda seemed more contented than ever before. Mrs. Emery said: “It’s good to see her more settled like. She’s lost that moody broody way she used to have … picking quarrels … and wanting to be better than anyone else.” It was true.

Oliver Gerson was a frequent visitor. He came when Benedict was there and they spent a good deal of time together but he usually managed to ride with us. He was as friendly as ever and although I would sometimes find him regarding me ruefully, he did not refer to his proposal. He seemed to be biding his time.

He always showed his affection for Belinda and she blossomed when he was around. Moreover the pleasure inspired by his visits seemed to linger after he had gone and I was sure she lived in a state of pleasant anticipation wondering when he would come again.

I had thought, when I first told her we were going to Cornwall, she would raise objections for it was hardly likely that Oliver would visit us there and for a time it really seemed as though that was on her mind. But after a while she was as excited as Lucie about going back there.

I was glad of that, for although recently she had changed so much for the better, I remembered how sullen she could be and I did not want the pleasure in the visit to be spoilt in any way.

It was wonderful to arrive at the station and find my grandparents with Pedrek waiting to greet us.

I was caught up in loving embraces and everyone seemed to be talking at once.

“Wonderful to have you here at last.” “How well you look!” “We’ve been counting the days … and Lucie … and Belinda … how they’ve grown!” “Everyone in the Poldoreys knows you are coming.”

And there we were, getting into the carriage, Pedrek beside me, clinging to my hand as though he feared I was going to run away, Belinda and Lucie talking excitedly … memories coming back to them. Was Petal still in the stables? Was Snowdrop?

Yes, they were, and waiting to be ridden.

“Oh, there’s the sea,” cried Lucie. “It looks just the same.”

“Did you expect it to turn black or red or violet?” demanded Belinda.

“No, but it’s lovely to see it.”

“Oh, look, there’s Cador.”

And there it was indeed, looking as majestic as ever, having that thrilling effect on me, as it always did after absence, making me feel warm and happy.