The Changeling (28 page)

My grandmother had written:

My dear Rebecca,

Pedrek has just told us and I must write and tell you how happy that has made your grandfather and me. Pedrek was a little contrite. He said you had agreed not to tell yet. You wanted to wait until he was out of college … or almost. Don’t blame him. It slipped out. He was so happy and wanted to share that happiness with us.

If only you could have been here!

Your grandfather says he would not have wished anything else for you and that goes for me. You should have seen the Pencarrons. They are a dear, sentimental old pair and as you know Pedrek and his mother are the sun, moon and stars and the whole universe to them. They are such
family
people.

They are so happy about Pedrek’s going eventually into the mine and this of course has made everything quite blissful for them.

We drank your health and talked of you continually. Mrs. Pencarron is already working out what she will wear for the wedding as the bridegroom’s grandmama and Mr. P is wondering who shall be honoured with the order for the catering for the grand feast he has in mind. Then there are Pedrek’s parents. Morwenna is completely delighted and so is Justin. Morwenna says our families have always been close and she went on about the way the two of you were born in your stepfather’s grand house in that grim mining township and how close she and your dear mother always were. Oh, Rebecca, I am sure your mother would be delighted. Your happiness meant everything to her … as it does to us. Pedrek is a really
good
young man and we all love him dearly. It is wonderful.

Now to more mundane matters. Things in the Poldoreys go on much as usual. Mrs. Arkwright has given birth to twins—predicted of course by our wise Mrs. Polhenny. One of Joe Garth’s fishing boats was lost in a gale recently. All on board were saved, thank God, but the loss of the boat was a blow. Somebody thought she heard the bells of St. Branok recently. But that happens periodically, as you know. Mrs. Yeo and Miss Heathers had their usual fight over who should be in charge of church decorations for Christmas. Mrs. Polhenny still pursues her calling, fighting the good light and travelling round on her old bone-shaker. You would be amused to see her. She really is one of the sights of Poldorey.

It is such a disappointment that you are not with us. You must come in the Spring. That’s the best time really. But it would have been lovely to have you for Christmas—particularly now that Pedrek has broken this wonderful news.

All our love, darling,

Your loving and deprived (of your company, of course) Grandparents

They were lovely, heartwarming letters. I put them in the silver box which my mother had given me and I kept them in a drawer because I knew I should want to read them again and again.

A few days before Christmas Oliver Gerson arrived. I was surprised. I had heard that a business associate of Benedict’s would be spending Christmas at Manor Grange but Oliver’s name had not been mentioned.

I had been out riding with the girls which I did frequently. Miss Stringer had already left and that meant that I was even more frequently than usual in their company.

As we returned into the drive I saw a carriage at the door and Mr. Emery was standing there giving instructions for the gentleman’s luggage to be taken into the house.

Then he turned and I saw who it was.

“Mr. Gerson!” I cried.

Belinda surprised me. She leaped from her pony and ran to him. She stood before him, looking up and smiling. There could not have been a warmer welcome.

He took Belinda’s hand and solemnly kissed it. “What a pleasure it is to see you,” he said.

Then he walked to me and, taking my hand, kissed it in the same manner. He looked at Lucie. She held out her hand and received the same treatment. I had rarely seen such gracious manners.

He was gazing at me as he said: “I have been looking forward to this pleasure. I must confess I was apprehensive, fearing that you might have decided not to spend Christmas here.”

“We shall be here,” cried Belinda, jumping into the air.

“What fun that will be!” he replied. “Christmas in the country with the most delightful of companions.” He included us all in his smile.

“Are you going to stay for a long time?” asked Belinda.

“That will depend on how long my host wants me to.”

“Is your host my father?” asked Belinda a little blankly.

“Indeed he is.”

“Let’s go into the house, shall we?” I suggested.

The groom took our horses and we went into the hall. As we did so Benedict came down the stairs.

“Oh, there you are, Gerson,” he said. “They have your room ready. I’ll get one of them to take you up. It’s good to see you.”

“I am delighted to be here. These ladies have already made me feel welcome.”

“So I see …” said my stepfather vaguely. “Your bags will be taken up. Good journey?”

“Quite good, thanks.”

“I’d like to have a chat about things before dinner.”

“But of course.”

“Right.” He walked with Oliver Gerson across the hall. He seemed hardly to have noticed our presence.

I looked at Belinda. Her eyes were shining. “It’s wonderful,” she said. “Aren’t you pleased, Lucie? He’s going to be here for Christmas.”

“He’s very nice,” said Lucie.

“Of course he’s nice. He’s the nicest man I know.”

“You don’t really know him yet,” I reminded her.

“I
do
know him. I like him. I’m glad he’s here.”

She skipped up three stairs.

I looked at Lucie and laughed. “It’s clear that he has Belinda’s approval,” I said.

“She talks about him a lot. She says, he’s like one of those knights who did all sorts of daring things to win the King’s daughter.”

“Let’s hope she’s right,” I said.

When I look back it seems that that Christmas was dominated by Oliver Gerson. He devoted quite a lot of time to the children which I thought was kind of him. He seemed to understand Belinda and she was certainly happier in his company than I had known her to be before. She had become a normal fun-loving child. It proved to me that she craved attention and that her waywardness had been a method of calling attention to herself. The change in her was remarkable. Oliver Gerson was, for the greater part of the day, in my stepfather’s company. It was for that purpose, I supposed, that he had been invited to the house.

He told me that he was my stepfather’s righthand man.

“I knew that you were in business together,” I said. “It’s those clubs, isn’t it?”

“That and other things. I worked for your stepfather’s grandfather, you know.”

“Oh yes … Uncle Peter.”

“He was a wonderful man. Astute, knowledgeable and crafty as a fox.”

“Did you like working for him?”

“Immensely. It was a great adventure.”

“He is very much missed in the family although we all knew there was something rather shocking about what he was engaged in. Is it the same still?”

“Those who are shocked are envious of others’ success. The clubs provide a need for certain people. If they want to gamble why shouldn’t they? If they lose money it is their affair.”

“I believe there are other things besides gambling.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “No one is dragooned into attending. They use the clubs of their own free will. It is all legitimate business. There is nothing illegal about it.”

“Uncle Peter wanted to be a member of Parliament and there was some scandal about the clubs. It ruined his parliamentary career.”

“I know. It happened years ago. People’s ideas changed after the Consort’s death. It would have been different if it had happened now. It was the Prince who set out these rigid codes.”

“But might it not still be dangerous for my stepfather?”

“I think you can say he knows what he is doing.”

“My mother was very upset when she knew he had inherited the business. She wanted him to sell out.”

“He is too good a businessman to do that. How could he resist the chance of adding to his immense fortune?”

“Easily, I should have thought, as he has enough already.”

“You don’t understand the mind of a businessman, Rebecca.”

“I think family happiness comes before all that.”

He put his hand over mine. “ ‘Oh wise young judge,’ ” he quoted. “ ‘How I do honour thee.’ ”

“I am no Portia but I should have thought that was clear. My mother was very worried. It was just before she died.”

I pulled myself up sharply. I was trying to blame him for what had happened. I was telling myself that in his greed for more wealth he had worried her, weakened her so that when her ordeal came she was unable to face it.

It was nonsense. That had had nothing to do with her death.

“You see,” Oliver Gerson was saying, “he has a great flair for business. I gathered he did well in Australia before he acquired his goldmine. Didn’t he have men working for him?”

“Yes. My mother spoke of it to me many times. He found gold but not enough to make the fortune he had set out for but he was able to employ those men who despaired of ever doing so and wanted a regular wage. Several were working for him so there was more chance of finding gold on his patch.”

“You see what I mean about this flair for business? You can’t expect such people to take the easy way out just because it offers a more peaceful existence. His sort don’t want peace. They want excitement and adventure.”

“And you … you have this flair?”

“But, of course. But I have not had your stepfather’s good fortune … yet.”

“Well, I can only hope that it will come to you in time.”

“Needless to say, I fervently share that hope. But don’t worry about the business. I can assure you your stepfather will know how to steer our craft past the dangerous rocks.”

“You have a great admiration for him.”

“If you worked with him, so would you.”

When he was not with my stepfather he was with us.

He continued to make much of the children and they admired him. He had a way of treating them as adults, never stressing that he was reducing himself to their level but just as though he accepted them as grown-up intelligent beings simply because they were.

We often went riding together. I had never seen Belinda so happy. I was now convinced that she was a normal child who had for a time been warped by the indifference—and even resentment—of an unnatural father.

I was delighted to see the change in her and I encouraged Oliver Gerson to be with us. Not that he needed any encouragement. I realized that he had a flair for being amusing as well as that of which he had told me, for business. Conversation was always lighthearted and punctuated with laughter from the children … not so much the laughter of amusement as of sheer happiness.

He would devise games as we rode along. He always found something fresh with which to stimulate their interest, so the rides were especially enjoyable.

“A mark for the first one who spots a holly bush with at least ten berries.”

They giggled. Lucie cried: “There’s one.”

“It’s not a holly bush, is it, Mr. Gerson?” said Belinda.

“No … it’s some other thing … not holly. We ought to have your governess here to tell us what.”

“Oh, we don’t want her. She makes a lesson out of everything.”

“Well, sorry, Lucie, it’s not holly. Try again.”

Then it would be the first to see a grey horse.

Thus a spirit of competition was added to the rides and both children enjoyed it.

We all knew what we should do on the morning of Christmas Day. There would be church and then the carol singers would come. Hot punch and fairy cakes would be distributed to them and then there would be midday dinner in the great hall when we would have several guests. The children would be at a table near the screens presided over by Leah, and the meal would be served in the traditional manner, the dishes carried in with a certain ceremony.

Afterwards the grown-ups would be a little somnolent and there would be desultory conversation and some dozing. There would be tea at five o’clock and a buffet supper later. Then the guests who were staying at the house would retire to their rooms and the others leave the house. The children would be allowed to stay up until nine o’clock as a concession to the day.

Oliver Gerson said to me: “What a great deal of preparation for something which has to be over almost as soon as it has begun. I am afraid our two are going to wonder what to do while the grown-ups are resting. We should think up some entertainment for them.”

“What an excellent idea. It was different at Cador. There always seemed something to do.”

“We must make something to do here. I thought of a treasure hunt.”

“How? Where?”

“It would have to be in the garden. We could not have them prowling about the house when people are trying to sleep.”

“Suppose it rains or snows?”

“Well then, it would have to be called off or we should have to think of some other indoor pastime.”

“What sort of treasure hunt?”

“Oh … clues … about six, I think. Little couplets, one leading to another. All very simple.”

“It sounds wonderful. Who’ll do the couplets?”

“We shall. I shall need your help to tell me the right places in the garden.”

“It’s a wonderful idea.”

“Of course. It’s mine.”

We laughed together.

“How many children will there be?” he asked.

“Oh, six … maybe seven. There are the agent’s two and three belonging to those indefatigable workers and our two.”

“That’s an ideal number. And we’ll have a prize for the winner. There must be a prize … some goal to work for.”

“What prize?”

“You and I will go to the village today and buy a splendid box of chocolates. Big … and gaudy … so that it looks like a worthwhile prize.”

“I am sure they will all love it.”

“It will dispense with the boredom of having to be quiet in a houseful of somnolent guests.”

“Are you sure you won’t be too somnolent to conduct affairs?”

“I? Never! I shall be as wide awake as you will.”

“I am glad you thought of it. They will be thrilled. It will make an exciting Christmas Day for them.”