Authors: Philippa Carr
I was silent for a while, then she cried out, “Someone has! Oh, Lucie. Just fancy … you! Tell me about it.”
I hesitated, but I guessed that she would hear sooner or later, so I told her about Joel.
She was intrigued. “Disappeared! My dear Lucie, you do attract disaster. Disappeared in Buganda! On a mission! It’s so thrilling. Oh, he’ll come back, then you can be married. It will be a wonderful wedding. All the press will be there. He … a Member of Parliament … and all this happening to him. He must come back. It’s hard to think of you …
you,
Lucie … in the midst of all this.”
“And what of you?” I asked.
“Well, I haven’t lived in such exciting surroundings, have I? There are no Members of Parliament, terrorists and expeditions to Africa. Just imagine the goldfields. …”
“My mother used to tell Rebecca about them and Rebecca told me. The campfires and the celebrations when someone found gold. I heard about the songs they used to sing and the shacks the miners and their families used to live in. …”
I paused and she went on, “Yes, it was like that. I expect it has improved a bit. I was in the big house, of course, and it wasn’t so bad, but I used to long to come home … except when we went to Melbourne. That’s a fine city. I used to look forward to our trips there. But then Tom became ill.”
“He always seemed so hale and hearty when he was here.”
“It was his heart. He had to have a manager. That was when Henry Farrell came.”
I waited eagerly, for clearly she wanted to talk about Henry Farrell.
“He was good-looking … one of those men made to command. Very sunburned, as most of them are over there. He took over from Tom. He knew how to deal with men.”
“You sound as though you were attracted by him.”
“I was.”
“And he?”
“He was besotted about me.”
“I guessed that was coming.”
“He wanted to marry me. You see, you are not the only one who has had a proposal.”
“And you declined?”
“I knew in time that I did not want to spend all my life in the goldfields. I had already made up my mind that I wanted to come home. I would have persuaded them to pay a visit to England. I thought Tom ought to have treatment in London. But then he died and we found out that the mine wasn’t doing as much as it should … but Henry Farrell stayed on … and then he asked me.”
“He probably had his eye on the mine.”
“Well, you might expect that. But I wasn’t Tom’s daughter … only his stepdaughter. But there was no one else and he’d always looked on Leah’s daughter as his. I liked Henry. He was a fine man. If things had been different …”
“What did he think about your leaving?”
“He was devastated, poor man. Tell me … what do you think about my father?”
“I don’t know very much about him. He’s in the wine business, I think. He goes to France now and then. I believe he has a house in London. We don’t see much of him. I believe he goes to the family in Farnborough quite a lot. They moved from Chislehurst when the Empress Eugenie did. I believe there is a sort of court there.”
“How exciting! I’d love to go there.”
“It’s only a court in exile. Don’t expect Versailles in the time of the Sun King.”
“I wonder if he ever thinks of me. Where does the family live in Farnborough?”
“In a house called The Red House, I believe. I’ve heard Celeste mention it. That would be their parents’ home. I don’t know if he has his own house there. I daresay he moves around too much to want a place of his own.”
“A man ought to be aware of his daughter’s existence. I must get his address and write to him. I wonder if Celeste will give it to me. I fancy she does not want to bring us together.”
“Well, he knows of your existence. If he wants to see you I daresay he will.”
“Some people need a bit of prodding. Give me his address.”
“I don’t have it.”
“I daresay The Red House, Farnborough, would be enough.”
“Why don’t you ask Celeste?”
“I think she might warn him and put him on his guard.”
“Well, if you think it would have that effect, wouldn’t it be better to leave it alone?”
“But I don’t want to leave it alone. I want him to be aware of me. I want to visit the court at Farnborough.”
“Why?”
“I rather fancy moving in royal circles. I am sure everyone must know The Red House, Farnborough. After all, in a way it would be connected with the resident royalty.”
Her eyes were dancing with excitement and she brought back many memories of the past. I knew then that her life in the Australian goldfields had not changed her one bit.
She said, “You are looking sleepy, Lucie. I am going now so I will leave you to your slumbers.”
I knew she wanted to get away. In the past, I remembered, when she had made up her mind to do something she would have no delay. It had to be done immediately.
I knew she was going off to write a letter to her father.
A few days had passed. There was still no news of Joel. I had to admit that having Belinda in the house did ease the tension to some degree, and that certain melancholy was less apparent. Belinda refused to be sad; and somehow she carried us along with her.
She was delighted with London and I could not help being caught up, to some extent, in her enthusiasm. There were only occasional moments when she slipped into solemnity, thinking of Leah; but it was only a passing sadness and she seemed determined to throw it off quickly.
There was no doubt that she was overjoyed to be back. Even Celeste cheered up a little. She could not help smiling at Belinda’s exuberance. I think she felt mildly intrigued because Belinda was her niece. She had always craved affection which she had never received from her rather formal parents, and as for her brother, I imagined he was far too immersed in his own affairs to think much about his sister. Celeste would have liked to bestow her affections on Belinda; I was a little dubious as to whether that would bring her satisfaction. I knew too much of the old Belinda not to know that she could not give Celeste the affection she craved.
Belinda wanted to see London, she said. She had missed it and so often thought of it. She loved the parks and the shops—particularly the latter, I discovered. I went with her one day. We looked at fashionable clothes but we bought nothing.
We went into a tea shop, and over tea and cakes Belinda grew a little mournful and began to confide in me.
“I suppose I shouldn’t have come home,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “I thought you were so happy to be back.”
“Oh … I am … it’s where I have longed to be. But …” She bit her lip and, shaking her head, went on, “No … I can’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand. You’re so rich.”
I looked at her in surprise. “What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Well, I know how rich your father was, and most of it is left to you. Just think of that. Anything you want, you can buy. Whereas I … Lucie, I am poor … terribly poor. …”
She stirred her tea thoughtfully. Her expression was one of abject misery. I remembered I had always been amazed at how quickly her moods could change.
“You see,” she went on, “I only have the tiniest income. One of the reasons for Tom’s heart attacks I always felt was the tension. He was dreadfully worried about the mine. Mines are gambles. They can make men’s fortunes and break them. It did very well just after Tom bought it and then it began to decline. Trust your father to have got out in time. Poor Tom was so worried he got ill and died. He left everything to my mother, of course … and she got rid of the mine. It was the only thing she could do. Henry Farrell took it over. That was one of the reasons why she was so anxious for me to come to England. She thought Celeste—who, after all, is my aunt—would look after me, I’d make a grand marriage and live in luxury for the rest of my life.”
“Well, perhaps that will come to pass.”
“Look at me!” she said. “How do I strike you?”
“Well, I suppose you would be reckoned quite good-looking.”
“Don’t mock! I look like a provincial. How can I get into London society?”
“Who said you were going to get into London society?”
“I shall be living in the house. After all, we’ll get back to normal in time … and there’ll be entertaining, won’t there?”
“I don’t know. There was a great deal of entertaining when my father was alive.”
“Well, there will be again.”
“Celeste is not a very social person.”
“I suppose you’ll be having a season.”
“Really, Belinda … with everything that has happened … I haven’t thought about that.”
“No. I suppose not. But in the meantime … oh, I feel so wretched! I don’t want to be here … not as some shabby poor relation. I shouldn’t be living in that house with you and Celeste.”
“What nonsense! As you are short of money, I can let you have some. I have enough.”
“I know you’re rich. Lucky old Lucie. Isn’t life ironical? We thought you were the waif and I was the daughter of the house. Not that he would have left all that money to me … even if he had gone on believing I was his daughter.”
“Stop talking about money. Look, I’m going to give you some.”
“How could I take it?”
“Well, make it a loan and then you can pay me back if you must.”
“How?”
“You’ll find a way, I am sure. Didn’t you always? And now I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
She looked at me with the utmost tenderness. “Oh, Lucie,” she said, “I do love you. I always did, you know. In spite of the fact that I was such a beast to you.”
“Well, that’s settled then.”
“Lucie, do you really mean you’ll give me the money?”
I looked at her in exasperation, but her face expressed such joy that I smiled.
“Do you remember that dress with the little pleats … in that lavender shade … ?”
I nodded, smiling at her enthusiasm.
“If we could go back to that shop … if I could have that, and that cape and that costume with the severe-looking blouse and the frilly one as well … if I had those, I could get by for a little while.”
“You shall have them.”
“Oh, Lucie … you … angel! It’s only a loan though. I insist.”
“Only a loan,” I agreed.
So we went back to the shop and bought the clothes which were charged to me; and I felt happier than I had for a long time. It was good to see Belinda so delighted.
When we returned to the house we were met by one of the maids.
“Oh, Miss Lansdon,” she said. “A Mr. Gerald Greenham has called. He wanted to see you specifically.”
My heart began to beat faster. My one thought was, can there be news of Joel?
Belinda, still gloating over her new acquisitions, took them upstairs; and I went into the drawing room.
“Gerald,” I cried. “How nice to see you.”
He came forward and took both my hands. I saw at once that he was excited.
“Is there news?” I asked eagerly.
“Yes … but nothing of Joel yet. The fact is I am going away. I’ve got special leave. I’m going out there, Lucie.”
“You really are! How have you managed it? I should have thought the regiment …”
He smiled at me and grinned. “I’ve got leave. It’s a special case. After all, he is my brother. Anyway, I’m leaving tomorrow. I had to come and tell you.”
“What are you going to do … when you get there?”
“I’m going to find him, Lucie.”
“Oh, Gerald … do you really think …?”
“I’m full of hope, and I had to come and let you know.”
“Thank you. It was kind of you to think of me. And your parents?”
“They think I’m going to find him … and I shall, Lucie.”
“Oh … I do hope so.”
He told me of his plans. It was a pity the journey would take so long. But he would have plenty to think about on the way. “I am determined to find him … or at least what has happened.”
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if he came back!”
He nodded. “Well, wish me luck, Lucie.”
“With all my heart.”
He was so certain that he was going to succeed that he made me feel more hopeful than I had since I had heard of Joel’s disappearance.
Just as he was leaving Belinda came into the room. She was wearing the lavender dress with the pleats. It fitted her somewhat voluptuous figure perfectly and she looked very attractive.
“Oh, hello,” she said, “I didn’t realize your visitor was still here. I had to try it on, Lucie. I was so thrilled.”
“This is Mr. Gerald Greenham,” I said, “and this is Celeste’s niece, Miss Belinda … Marner.” I hesitated over her name. She had been called Lansdon while she was with us, but of course that had not been her real name. She was, I supposed, in fact Belinda Polhenny for that was her mother’s name; it did not fit her at all and she had taken Tom Marner’s name when Leah had married him, which seemed a sensible thing to do.
She was smiling at him in a way with which I was to become familiar—provocative, inviting admiration.
Gerald certainly gave it.
“I’m delighted to meet you, Miss Marner,” he said.
“I’m delighted, too,” she replied, and they stood smiling at each other with mutual approval.
“Mr. Greenham and his family were great friends of my father,” I said.
“So are you in politics?” said Belinda. “How exciting!”
“Sorry,” said Gerald. “Army. But politics runs in the family. My father … my elder brother…”
“And you escaped that fate,” said Belinda. “Are you leaving now?” She gave a little pout as though she objected to that.
“I have to,” he told her regretfully.
“Mr. Greenham is leaving the country tomorrow,” I told her.
“How exciting! Is it permitted to ask where you are going?”
“To Africa.”
“How thrilling! Of course, people in the army do travel about …”
She had certainly impressed him. I could see that he was very reluctant to go; he seemed temporarily even to have forgotten the project about which he had been so excited on his arrival.
When he had gone Belinda stood before me smoothing down the pleats of the dress. “Well, what do you think?” she asked.
“That you made a great effort to attract his interest,” I said. “And you managed to do it very effectively.”