Authors: Philippa Carr
“I can’t see the remains of the chicken,” said Kitty, puzzled.
I thought I should have to be careful. I took a blanket down with the chicken and some bread.
He was glad of them.
“I might have to tell Kitty,” I said, “because she is going to miss the food.”
“I won’t have anyone told,” he retorted. “Don’t bring food. I’ll manage.”
“Digory, have you thought any more about what I’ve said?”
“What?” he asked.
“That if you … harmed him … you would suffer just as much.”
“I wouldn’t be caught.”
Two days passed. I had not seen Rolf. I did not go to the stables because if I did I should surely see him and I should find it difficult not to tell him that Digory was in the woods. I longed to tell him that I knew the truth about that night now. But how could I explain without betraying Digory?
I was constantly worried about him. I had seen the purpose in his face and I knew that he was plunging to certain disaster.
I bought some cheese in the town.
“I’ll tell Kitty you’ve taken the Cheddar,” said Mrs. Glenn who ran the shop.
“Oh, that’s all right. I’ll tell her.”
And I thought how difficult it was to do anything in such a place without being detected.
What would Kitty say if she knew I had bought cheese?
I cut a piece off and put it in the larder, so that I should be prepared.
“Cheddar!” she would say. “Why did you buy that? I thought it wasn’t one of your favourites.”
But when Kitty came in she was so full of the news that she did not notice the cheese.
“What do you think? Luke Tregern has disappeared.”
I felt sick. I stammered: “Disappeared?”
“Yes. He left the house yesterday afternoon and he didn’t come back.”
“What do they think has happened to him?”
“That’s what they don’t know. Mrs. Tregern’s in a rare state, they say. They say she’s well nigh crazy. Annie, the maid there, says she thinks there was a big row.”
“And that … he’s left her?”
Kitty nodded. “You see, they both went out riding together yesterday afternoon … and when they come back she heard them shouting. She said … and Annie heard this with her own ears … ‘What are we going to do?’ just as though she was desperate like. Then after a while he went out … and he didn’t come back.”
Oh, God help him I thought. He’s done it. And I thought I was making him see the folly of it and what it would do to him.
“Do they think he has left her?”
“What else? There was all this trouble when they come in. They say she was white as a sheet … half out of her wits. I reckon he’s gone off. Of course they said he married her for Cador … he being only the manager of the Manor then. Well, I don’t know. You do see life in the country, after all.”
“So the general feeling is that he has left her?”
“Where’d he go, that’s what I wonder. They say he hasn’t taken anything with him. Just the clothes he’s standing up in. He just walked out … just like that … and he didn’t come back.”
I wanted to be alone. I went into my bedroom and shut the door. Where was Digory now? He wouldn’t be in the woods surely. He would have gone by how. He wouldn’t hang about. He wouldn’t want to be caught. There would be a search for Luke Tregern. They would not suspect murder at first. They would think he had just walked out of the house, left his wife.
Apparently they had quarrelled now and then, and yesterday there had been this big upset. They had been out together riding and when they had come back she had looked white as a sheet and half crazed; he was clearly disturbed. They had quarrelled and he had walked out. I was going over it as Kitty had told it.
Yes, I thought, he walked out to the woods where Digory was waiting and there he met his death.
I could not rest. I had to go to the woods.
To my amazement Digory was there.
I said: “You’ve done it then, Digory. You didn’t listen to me.”
He looked bewildered and just stared at me.
“I know,” I said. “The whole town knows he has disappeared. Where is he, Digory? What have you done with his body?”
He continued to stare at me. Then he said: “I can’t believe it … There she was, on her horse. He was with her … I couldn’t understand. I didn’t expect to see her … She knew me. She just stared at me. She was so white I thought she was going to fall off her horse. And he was there with her …
Him
… If I’d had me gun I could have killed him.”
“
If
you had your gun …” I stammered.
“Then she said my name. She said to me, ‘It’s you … ’ I could see she thought she was dreaming. The last thing she thought was to see me here. She hadn’t seen me for two years. I left when my term was done. I heard someone had been looking for me … and I was sorry. I wanted to know who it was. It was a mate of mine who told me. I run across him in Sydney and he said someone had asked him where I was. He’d told him I was at Stillman’s. He didn’t know I’d gone, he was trying to find me, see how I was. A real gentleman who was going to offer me something back in England. He couldn’t remember the name. Sir Something Somebody he said.”
I said: “Digory. It was my father.”
“It don’t matter now … It’s them … But this fellow gave my address to your father or what he thought was my address. But it wasn’t, see, ’cos I’d left there two years before.”
I was thinking of the entry in the notebook. “Was this address Stillman’s Creek?”
“That’s it. That’s where she was. There was three of us sent there. There was Tom James who gave your father this address and Bill Aske … He was educated. He’d been in a lawyer’s office. Forging, that was what he was picked up for. The three of us landed up at Stillman’s.”
“Tell me all about it please, Digory.”
“She was there. She worked for her father. She was mad about England. She used to make me talk to her … all about it. About the green fields and the rain and the houses, too. She wanted to know all about the
big
houses … so I used to tell her. I could stop work and talk to her. Talking was easy. Over and over again she’d make me tell her … so I told her all about what you’d showed me in the big house.”
“She was Maria Stillman,” I said.
“That’s her.”
“And did you know her mother?”
“’Course. She was old Stillman’s missus. Stillman came out to settle and Mrs. Stillman came out on one of the ships … a convict. She went to Stillman’s to work and he married her. She was an old tartar she was.”
“Maria Stillman is living at Cador now, Digory,” I said, “because she says she was my father’s daughter and that he wasn’t really married to my mother.”
“She was old Stillman’s daughter. She took after her mother, she did. She got Aske to forge her father’s signature. Something about money. She used to say one day she was going to England. She was going to live in a grand house like Cador.”
I felt dazed. It was much a tangled web of lies and deceit and who would have thought that Digory would be linked to it and should be the one to bring me the truth?
“I’m sorry, Digory,” I said. “I can’t think clearly. This is such a revelation. Oh, Digory, why did you have to do it? Why couldn’t you have seen it was no good? We would have looked after you … given you a start.”
I heard the sound of horse’s hoofs.
I said: “Someone is coming. Perhaps they’re looking for you. You’d better hide.”
I tried to pull him towards the shelter of the shed, but I was too late.
Maria was there. Deliberately she slipped off her horse and tied it to a bush. We stared at each other.
She said: “They’re both here. What luck. It makes it easier.”
She seemed as though she were talking to herself.
“You’ve told her then,” she said to Digory.
“Yes, he has told me,” I answered. “I always knew it was false but now I know the truth and how you were able to do what you did.”
“You’re the only one who knows … well, the two of you … and that’s how it’s going to stay.”
Calmly she brought out a small pistol.
“What are you doing?” I cried. “Do you think you’ll get away with this?”
“Yes,” she said, “I do.” And quietly: “I have to.”
I saw that her hand was shaking. She was a very frightened woman, and that knowledge gave me courage. She does not want to kill, I thought. She is a cheat, a liar, fraud, but she does not want to commit murder.
I said: “They will catch you. They will hang you for murder, hang you on a gibbet.”
I saw her lips twitch. “They won’t catch me.”
“Of course they will.”
“No …” She shook her head. “There’s been a prowler in the woods. Everyone’s talking. They’ll think … And I’ve got to.” It was as though she were speaking to herself. “I can’t lose Luke. I can’t lose Cador …”
She had lifted her hand. Digory moved clumsily towards me as the shot rang out. I felt something touch my shoulder and then there was another shot. The grass was rushing up to meet me and Digory was lying on top of me. I saw flashing lights; something was happening to my shoulder … and then there was darkness.
When I regained consciousness I was in an unfamiliar bed. There were people in the room. I could vaguely hear their voices; they moved about me like shadows. Then I slipped once more into darkness.
This was my condition for several days, although I was unaware of the passing of time.
Then I awoke one morning to acute discomfort. I was swathed in bandages and aware of nothing but pain.
A woman came to my bedside. I did not know her.
She touched my forehead. “Go to sleep,” she said.
I shut my eyes obediently. It was what I wanted to do.
They gave me something to drink and I was very, very drowsy.
When I awoke someone was sitting by my bed. A voice: “Annora …
dearest
Annora.”
“Hello, Rolf,” I said. I felt I was beginning to come back to life.
I was in the Manor. They had brought me there. I had been there for two weeks and I knew now that I had been close to death.
I could not quite remember what had happened. There were times when I thought it was something to do with Midsummer’s Eve. And when I thought of it afterwards, I supposed it was.
I heard the story gradually.
One of the maids had found us in the woods. Greatly daring she had come to the clearing, and she had seen us lying there. She had run screaming and hysterical back to Cador. Isaacs and Mrs. Penlock had thought she was being fanciful, she was so hysterical. But when she said she thought it was Miss Cadorson and there was a man there and a lot of blood, Isaacs came with several of the men.
They were deeply shocked to find us.
Bob Carter was there and he took the news to Rolf, who immediately came hurrying to the woods.
He told me about it afterwards.
“You were lying there, so still, so white, with your blouse scarlet with blood. And he was there … half covering you. The bullet had gone into his back. It got his lung. The doctor said that from his position he would have saved your life.”
I could scarcely bear it. I had meant to do so much for him. Poor Digory, who had never had a chance, and who in the end had given his life to save mine.
Rolf said I should be taken to the Manor and he would get nurses to look after me. He wanted me under his roof. The doctor thought it a good idea, for Croft Cottage was small and lacked certain amenities.
So I was taken there and Rolf told me that he sat beside my bedside every day willing me to live.
It seemed that the first bullet had hit me just below the shoulder and the second had not touched me because Digory had been there to shield me.
I said: “I am remembering. He moved towards me just as she fired.”
“He saved your life. I wish I could show him what I feel about that,” said Rolf. “I wish I had a chance to repay him … not that one ever could, but I could have tried.”
I said I wanted to know what happened.
Rolf said: “The doctors forbid all that sort of talk.”
“But I must know.”
“You will. All you have to do now is rest. But you are out of danger. You are with those who love you.”
“Those who love me …?”
“Your family is here, Annora. Your uncle and aunt, Helena, Matthew, Jonathan and Tamarisk. Claudine and David … all of them.”
“I know then that they were expecting me to die,” I said.
“Don’t speak of it. I could not have borne it.”
“Do you mean that, Rolf?”
“You know, don’t you?”
“You speak as though you care for me.”
“Of course I care for you. I always have. You always knew it.”
“I didn’t. I thought you did not care for me any more. It was not for myself …”
“It was you, remember, who rejected me.”
“Foolish creature that I was. Rolf, kiss me … please.”
He did gently, and very tenderly.
I said: “I have been lying here and yet not here. I was floating off far away from the world … and unhappiness. I seemed to have left all that behind.”
“Don’t … please.”
“Not now you’re here, Rolf. And you look at me as though you love me and you talk to me as though you love me. If that is true I want to get well. I want to be here … with you.”
I was getting better though I was very weak and still suffering from pains in my shoulder. The wound had yet to heal and that, they told me, would take time.
Gradually I learned what had happened.
I could not help feeling sorry for Maria in spite of everything. I kept thinking of the blank despair in her face when she had fired that shot. I could picture her dreaming her dreams. Digory had made me see that home where she had lived and dreamed of England. Her father was a settler, her mother an ex-convict. I daresay they had both yearned for home at some time and had conveyed that yearning to Maria although she had never seen—at that time—the place they called Home. Cador became a sort of Mecca to her. She made Digory talk of it over and over again. And then when the drowning incident occurred she saw her chance. She had the forger who could provide her with a marriage certificate; and she had come to England full of daring, with him as her solicitor, seeing it all as simple.
Then when Digory had come back and recognized her she was caught. She must have thought the chances of his coming back were very slim. If she had considered that seriously for a moment she would have realized what a dangerous position she could be in.