Philippa Carr - The Changeling

I was uneasy about taking the children into such a place, but he took my arm reassuringly. “They’ll love it,” he whispered. “It will be something new for them. I’ll make sure it is all right.”

He exerted his charm wherever he went. He talked to the landlord’s wife; she nodded conspiratorially and we were all seated in the parlor with its oak beams and air of adventure.

Watered-down cider was brought for the children and we all sat there drinking. Neither Belinda nor Lucie had been in an inn before. Their eyes were round with wonder and it was clear that they thought it a great adventure.

Belinda demanded to know about the hanging judge and he told them that the Duke of Monmouth, the son of Charles the Second, thought he had more right to the throne than the King’s brother James, and how there was a battle and Monmouth was defeated and his men captured and brought before the cruel hanging judge.

“There are gibbets all over the West Country,” he told them; and they listened spellbound.

I thought: How they love horror! I could only think it was because they did not fully understand it.

“You think of the most lovely things,” Belinda told Oliver Gerson.

When they reached home they chattered to Miss Stringer about the hanging judge and the Monmouth rebellion. She was delighted.

“So instructive,” she said. “So good for them. What a delightful man!”

My dreams were haunted by Pedrek. I kept recalling that look of dawning horror on his face when we had confronted him with our suspicions. My first thoughts were of him each morning when I awoke, and he seemed to be beside me all through the day.

I said to myself: I must see him. I must tell him that I believe in him. That whatever he has done, I love him.

I knew there had been a mistake.

I would write to him. I would ask him to forgive me for distrusting him. But I did not write. Between me and that letter was the face of Belinda … distorted with fear … her wide innocent eyes showing so clearly that she could not entirely understand what had happened to her.

In the midst of my uncertainty there came a letter from my grandmother.

My dear Rebecca,

I hope you are feeling a little better. I think you did right to get away—and in any case it was necessary for Belinda. It has been sad for us here. Pedrek is leaving Cornwall. I think it is best really. I think we all need to get away from that terrible time … to try to see things in proportion.

He is going to Australia. There have been discoveries of tin in New South Wales and they are asking for mining engineers to go out there. Of course, Pedrek has not finished his course at the college but he has attained a degree of knowledge and there are of course his grandfather’s connections in the mining field and that will stand for a good deal. He needs to get away. We simply could not go on as we have been after all that has happened. He will be leaving almost immediately and I don’t know how long he will be away.

The Pencarrons are very upset. They don’t know what it is all about. They think there has been some big quarrel between you and Pedrek and they are very sad.

Your grandfather and I have felt very uncertain. We could not bring ourselves to tell them. I think it would have killed his grandmother … and what Josiah would have done, I cannot imagine. They worship Pedrek. Then we wondered whether we should have done something about it … whether it was our duty to. It is such a terrible thing … What if some other child …? On the other hand we could not really believe it somehow. As I said to your grandfather even suppose he lost control for a moment he would have learned his lesson.

He looks so unhappy … so terribly sad and bewildered in a way. It is such a wretched business and I know, my darling, how you must be suffering. It is best for you to be right away from it.

We can only wait and see. Try not to grieve too much. Perhaps there will be some explanation some day. However it was best that you should leave here and I think that he should get away, too.

I only wonder whether we have done the right thing …

The letter dropped from my hands. Gone away! To Australia! As my parents had in search of gold. My grandmother had gone there too and met tragedy … and now Pedrek had left to look for tin and get away from a situation which had become intolerable.

Who would have believed that in such a short time life could change so drastically?

I should have written to him before. I should have told him that I loved him and would go on doing so no matter what had happened.

But it was too late now.

He continued to haunt my thoughts. Where was he now? Had he left Cornwall? I could imagine the heartrending farewell between him and his grandparents.

Morwenna came to see me. She was distraught.

“What does all this mean between you and Pedrek?” she demanded.

“We decided we couldn’t marry … for a while.”

“But why? You were so happy … so looking forward to it … why, you had almost got the house.”

“I know … but it changed. We realized that we had made a mistake and it would be wrong to … to er … rush into it.”

“I can’t believe it.”

I looked at her sadly. I could not explain to her. I could not show her how bewildered and unhappy I was. She and his father would be completely shocked if they knew.

So I let them think that I was fickle. They could not believe that it was Pedrek who had changed his mind.

And now he was going to Australia … the home of his birth. I could see the fear in Morwenna’s eyes; her attitude had changed towards me. She was cold and withdrawn.

But I could not tell her. The terrible event at the pool had resulted in misery in all directions.

Mrs. Emery said: “I don’t know what’s the matter with Mrs. Cartwright. She seems changed. It’s because her son’s going out to Australia, I suppose.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” I said.

She looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. They had all guessed that there had been an understanding between Pedrek and me and knew that this was so no longer.

“These matters are for them they belong to,” was her judicial summing up. “It’s for them to decide and nobody else’s business.” She looked at me almost tenderly. “And you’ve got to take a bit of care of yourself. We don’t want you ill, Miss Rebecca.”

“I’ll take care,” I promised.

I imagined how they all discussed the matter round the kitchen table and conjured up reasons for my wan looks.

There were times when I almost walked out of the house and took the train to Cornwall that I might see him before he left and urge him not to go …to tell him that no matter what had happened I wanted to be with him.

Would he accept that? He would not want me to say “no matter what.” He wanted me to have the utmost belief in his innocence. This I instinctively knew would be his terms.

I loved Pedrek. I knew now how much. But I had grown up. I had discovered lust in the bedroom at High Tor and I knew men could change when that lustful urge was upon them. I had learned that it takes a long time to know people and I was asking myself, Did I know Pedrek? Did I know every aspect of him?

The fact of the matter was that I could not be sure. And what he was asking from me was absolute belief in his innocence.

It was an impasse. I hesitated … and so he would go to Australia.

There he would try to forget me … and I must try to forget him.

AN AIR OF EXCITEMENT pervaded the house. I often had talks with Mrs. Emery and found it comforting to sit in her room and chat desultorily about little matters of the household and to drink a cup of tea from one of her special cups.

She was aware of a great deal of what was going on.

One day she said: “Mr. Lansdon is especially busy these days. Emery and me … well, we’re interested in politics … and we’re keeping our fingers crossed for Mr. Lansdon.”

“Oh … why?”

“Well, there’s this Cabinet reshuffle, isn’t there? And since his party’s in … who knows? I reckon Mr. Lansdon’s made for some high post. Emery thinks the Home Office.”

“Does Mr. Emery think that Mr. Gladstone will stay in power?”

“Oh yes. The Conservatives are not the same now that that Mr. Disraeli’s lost his wife. I reckon a man wants a woman behind him.”

“I’m not so sure. He did some important things after her death. It may be that he’s devoted everything to politics now she has gone. What about his getting control in the Suez Canal and proclaiming the Queen Empress of India and cleverly averting war with the Russians and bringing Cyprus into the Empire? He did all that after his wife died.”

“Yes, but he was never a happy man since and a man needs to have a happy home life. There’s Mr. Lansdon …” She shook her head sadly.

I thought: They know everything about us. They know that Benedict does not love Celeste and that he still mourns for my mother, and that I have come back from Cornwall sad and troubled because my engagement to Pedrek is broken. All these things they know of us and they discuss them at meal times when they are all round the table together. No, Mrs. Emery would not allow that. It would be between herself and Mr. Emery when they were alone in their room. But the servants would be all eagerness to learn; they would listen at every opportunity; they would watch; they would garner their information and compare with each other; then they would doubtless draw their garbled conclusions.

“It’s no good looking back,” said Mrs. Emery. “Your dear mother is dead and gone and more’s the pity. If she were here … how different everything would be. The present Mrs. Lansdon … she tries. She could be good for him … if he’d let her be. But he keeps looking back.”

“Perhaps in time.”

“Time. That’s what saves us all. No use nursing your troubles, Miss Rebecca. That’s what I always say … and it will be wonderful for Mr. Lansdon if he gets a post in the Cabinet. Emery and me … well … we’ll be that pleased.”

“Yes,” I said. “I wish …”

She looked at me expectantly but I did not finish.

She was silent. She was a very understanding woman and I think she had the good of the family at heart. She really would like to see Benedict in the Cabinet and happy in his domestic as well as public life; she would like to see me recovered from my wounds and happily engaged to a suitable someone.

She and Emery wanted to have a happy as well as a successful household over which to rule in the lower regions.

Benedict was in London and Celeste with him. Oliver Gerson came down once or twice but his stays were brief. He told me that Mr. Lansdon was so busy in the House that business matters were left to him.

I was pleased to hear Belinda’s laughter. She really seemed to have forgotten. Leah said she never referred to it now and that she slept peacefully and was her old self.

When I went to the children’s room to say goodnight she suddenly put her arms round my neck and hugged me tightly.

“I love you, dear darling sister Rebecca.”

Such expressions of affection from Belinda were rare and made me very happy.

I went over to Lucie’s bed. She hugged me too. But then she often did. “I love you too, Rebecca,” she said.

I was very comforted.

It was a few days later in the early afternoon, a time when the household was usually quiet. Mrs. Emery returned to her room to—as she said—put her feet up for five minutes. I don’t know what Mr. Emery did—probably took a nap in the Emery bedroom. The house had a somnolent air.

I was going upstairs and as I passed the locked room, I thought I heard a sound. I went quietly to the door and stood there for a few moments … listening.

I felt a tingling sensation in my back. Benedict was in London. Mrs. Emery was in her room, and I knew that someone was behind that locked door.

It was so much my mother’s room … her brushes, her mirror … her clothes … just as she had left it. I must be mistaken. I stood very still … listening. And then came the faint rustling sound.

I was trembling. Did the dead really return? Once I had had the feeling that my mother came back to me. That was when I had fancied that she had wanted me to take in Lucie. Fancy? Imagination? I had always had a vivid one. I had been intrigued by the story of Lady Flamstead who had returned to comfort the child whom she had never seen. Perhaps if people left especially loved ones behind they had to come back. My mother had left Benedict and she had left me. I knew how deeply she had loved him and I had been the center of her life until she married him.