Philippa Carr - We’ll meet again

“And being German did not help her. All is well with you and the good captain?”

“As well as it can be in such times.”

“I see you ’ave the key to the door.”

“Oh yes. He gave it to me. It’s quite convenient. I can slip in when I like and, if he is not there, leave a note.”

“He is a thoughtful man. It is so romantic. It is good that we have this romance in wartime.”

“As long as the world goes round, love goes on.” Had I made that up, or was I just stating the obvious? It was a real old cliché anyway; but when you consider them, they are very often true.

We sat there gossiping for a while, then said goodbye to Mrs. Yelton and got into our respective cars.

Returning to Tregarland one early evening, Violetta and I found Nanny Crabtree in what she herself called “a state.”

“I’ve told them time after time, if I’ve told them once, I won’t have them dashing round the country after dark. It’s them imps, Charley and Bert. What they don’t seem to understand is that six o’clock in May is not the same as at this time of year. It’s the dark I won’t have them out in. It’s them bikes, that’s what it is. Fancy themselves as goodness knows what, I shouldn’t wonder. Spy catchers one day, dispatch riders the next. Flying round … I don’t know … but I won’t have it.”

“Were they going anywhere special?” asked Violetta.

“No, they wasn’t. I’ve said to them time and time again. After school, it’s home. Then they can get back and wash their dirty selves and sit down to a nice meal. You’d think they’d be satisfied with that, wouldn’t you? But no. They must go dashing about the countryside.”

“I expect they’ll be back soon, Nanny,” I said.

“They’d better be.”

I thought: She loves those boys. That is just how she used to be with us. Dear old Nanny, she is really worried about them.

As a matter of fact, Violetta and I were beginning to get anxious. Violetta said she had seen Gordon and he thought they should be back by now.

“I hope there’s not been an accident,” said Violetta.

When we heard the sound of the boys’ bicycles in the courtyard, we were very relieved.

They were safe, and, now that she was no longer afraid for them, Nanny was growing more and more bellicose. She went into action without delay. She wanted to know what excuses they had, and I could see from her expression that they would have to be very good to satisfy her.

The boys put their bicycles away and came running upstairs, their faces alight with excitement.

Nanny faced them squarely, with Violetta and I on either side of her.

Charley burst out: “There’s been a burglary. Or would ’a bin, if we ’adn’t stopped ’em.”

“A burglary?” I cried. “Where?”

“At that cottage by the river.”

“Riverside Cottage?” I asked quickly.

“That’s it, Mrs. Tregarland. That’s the one. Me and Bert was cycling along, wasn’t we? You can cut round the back if you know the way … by the river.”

“That’s trespassing,” I said.

“It’s only a little way. Well, Bert and me was there, wasn’t we? You could see the back of the place, and I knew Captain Brent wasn’t there, didn’t I?”

“Did you?” I said. “How?”

“Well, he wasn’t there, was he? Hadn’t been for some time. I heard one of the soldiers say he reckoned he’d be away for a bit. I knew it wasn’t him, ’cos I saw this torch, didn’t I? It was moving about … just like in a film, and I said to Bert, I said: ‘P’raps the ’lectricity’s off.’ But then I see the light on the road was on. Well, we left our bikes and went up to the house and then I see the back door was broke open. Then I knew.”

“What did you do then, Charley?” I asked.

“I said to Bert, ‘I reckon they’re burglars. We got to catch ’em.’ I didn’t think me and Bert could do it on our own, so I said to him: ‘You wait ’ere and watch. If you see ’em get into a car, take the number … just like they do in the pictures. I’m going to Constable Darkin. He’s not far off.’”

“That was very ingenious of you, Charley,” said Violetta.

“What, Miss?”

“Very clever. Very resourceful to go to Constable Darkin.”

“He was just going to have his tea. I said, ‘I’ve come to report a burglary.’ He wasn’t that shook up, was he? He said, ‘Oh yes, son.’ Just as if I was a little boy playing a game. Then I said, ‘At Captain Brent’s place … that Riverside Cottage.’ It was different then. He left his tea and said, ‘You’d better get back home, son.’ Then he got onto the telephone and I couldn’t hear what he said, ’cos Mrs. Darkin was talking and taking us to the door. She said, ‘You’ve done well, and now it’s time you was home.’ So I went to find Bert. He was still there watching. He hadn’t seen no more lights in the house. Then we heard the cars and two men came running out. We couldn’t see them very well. They got away though before the police got there. It wasn’t half something, wasn’t it, Bert?”

Bert agreed that it was.

I was thinking of James and wondering how the thieves had known he and Joe would be away at that time and what they could have hoped to steal in a cottage furnished for summer visitors.

Later on Constable Darkin came to Tregarland to tell the boys they had done very well. It was just an ordinary break-in, and the thieves had escaped before they could be caught.

“You did the right thing, son,” said Constable Darkin to Charley. “Always let us know if you see anything fishy round here.”

Then he roared with laughter.

“That be a good ’un,” he said, in case any of us failed to catch the aptness of the allusion.

And so it all ended happily and Nanny Crabtree withdrew her disapproval of the boys and their bicycles. In fact, she was rather proud of her protégés.

IT WAS ONLY TWO weeks later when there was another alarm. This was a very serious one.

Again it started when Violetta and I returned from the Priory. If Nanny Crabtree had been in “a state” because the boys had not come home, now she was in a panic.

And so were we all.

Tristan was missing. He had been having his nap after he had had his meal, and Nanny herself liked to doze off at that time. It gave her a chance, as she said, to put her feet up. She would lie on her bed, which was the only way to rest properly, and she would leave open her bedroom door, which led into Tristan’s room.

He had been a little lively during the morning and did not drop off as quickly as he usually did, so that made it a little late and it must have been after three when Nanny settled down. She did not awaken until just on five, and was amazed when she did. It was not like her to sleep so long. She was usually a light sleeper. She would have expected Tristan to waken her before that. But when she went into his room she saw that he was not in his bed. She had been surprised, but not then unduly alarmed. He must have wandered downstairs, she thought. But Tristan was nowhere to be found. We were all very worried by this time. We had hunted everywhere. Tregarland’s was a very large house and there were all sorts of places where he could hide.

We searched and searched. Nanny kept moaning: “I can’t believe this. I’m a light sleeper, I am. I’ve always been ready to wake at the slightest sound from any of my children. And there he is … getting out of bed … going off like that. Where is he? Where is my baby?”

In the first few moments it did not occur to me that there could be anything seriously wrong. It was only as the time began to pass and there was no sign of Tristan that we grew seriously alarmed and decided to call the police.

Constable Darkin paid another visit to Tregarland’s and this was a very somber one. The house and grounds were searched. The great fear was the sea. Suppose Tristan had gone into the garden, wandered down to the beach and thought he would paddle? Suppose he had been carried out to sea on the waves? Unbearable possibilities came crowding into my mind.

Violetta and I went on searching, and the servants joined in. Gordon was very practical. He arranged search parties, discussed with the police what was best to be done; but as the night came on we were desperate.

I felt sick with horror. My darling child, who was learning to love me, to forgive me for my indifference, now loved me as much as he did Violetta and Nanny Crabtree, no, even more, because I was his mother. Where was he now? Crying for me. I could hear the satisfaction in his voice when he had said: “Got Mummy.”

This was too cruel. I did not deserve this. And what was happening to Tristan? Once before he might have died at the hands of a murderess, but for the vigilance of my sister and Nanny Crabtree. Not again, I thought, oh, not again.

I do not know how I lived through that night. We had searched the house and grounds thoroughly, so there was little hope that he was there.

Then where was he? I could hear the murmur of the sea. It was a quiet sea, but… was it possible that he had wandered down to the beach? He had been warned never to go down there alone. He was an obedient child on the whole, but one could never be sure what a child would do.

Violetta was beside me, close, and I knew she suffered as I did. As for Nanny Crabtree, she was quite distraught, muttering to herself. I think she was praying.

Gordon said: “There must be some explanation. He has wandered off somewhere.”

“A child out alone … at this time of night!” I cried.

Gordon said very slowly, with an effort, as though he were wondering whether it was wise to raise such a possibility: “We must not lose sight of the fact that someone might have taken him.”

“Taken him!” I cried.

Gordon nodded, and Violetta said: “You mean … kidnapped?”

“It could be so. If it is … we’ll get him back.”

“Who … ?” murmured Violetta.

“The family is not without means to pay a ransom.”

I clutched at the idea. It was better than thinking of him caught by the sea.

“Oh yes … yes,” I cried. “He’s been kidnapped. We’ll pay whatever they ask and get him back.”

“It is a possibility we should not lose sight of,” said Gordon.

I felt sure of it now. Otherwise where was he? Some wicked person was putting us all to this anguish for the sake of money. Anything … anything we had was worth giving to get Tristan back. I had been so immersed in my own affairs that I did not realize how much I loved him. He was more important to me than anything else.

There was no sleep for any of us that night. I felt a fierce hatred for those people who had taken him, and a contempt for myself because I had not loved him enough. I had a great desire to blame someone. How had Nanny Crabtree allowed herself to be so fast asleep when all that was happening to him? It was so unlike her. I remembered how she and Violetta had watched over him throughout those nights when they suspected someone was trying to harm him. Then … Gordon. A terrible thought struck me. If Tristan died, Gordon would inherit Tregarland. He was really holding it in trust for him now. Gordon was devoted to Tregarland. He had worked all his life on the estate. He was the son of old James Tregarland—if illegitimate—and he would inherit the place if there were no legitimate heir to come before him. And there was Tristan. Motive indeed.

Oh no! That could not be! Gordon would not be involved in such a thing. But what did I know of what went on in people’s minds?

And so it went on.

I did not know what to do. Search the grounds again? Just suppose he was somewhere there? The house … ?

We were frustrated and helpless. The police were searching for him.

Violetta said: “I cannot believe there is anything else we can do. Gordon is right. We shall hear news soon. I shall keep in easy call of the telephone. It may come that way.”

I could not bear it. I felt a desire to be by myself. I kept going over the past. I had staged an elopement, I had deluded myself into believing that it would all come right in the end. I had always pictured the future the way I wanted it to go. Then I thought of the last time Tristan and I had been together. I had read him his favorite story about the elephant who never forgot. He had leaned against me and laughed at the animal’s exploits and I had changed them a little, just for the pleasure of hearing him say: “No Mummy, he didn’t do that.”

Take everything I have … everything I want … but give him back to me, I bargained with the unknown powers.