The Pool of St. Branok (58 page)

I had been home only two days when my mother announced a breakfast that she had had a letter from Grace.

“She wants to come down and stay for a week or so. She says we have often told her that she will be welcome. I am writing at once to say we shall be delighted to have her. I expect it is very sad for her. She was such a friend of Lizzie’s.”

I felt a shiver run through me.

Grace coming to Cornwall? Why?

I kept thinking of Justin and how earnestly he had warned me. It had all seemed so melodramatic … Grace wanting to murder me … in the hope that one day Ben would marry her!

It was too far-fetched.

I thought I had dismissed the matter from my mind, but here it was back again.

If Ben had been guilty he could not have come to me and talked so earnestly. He was ruthless, I knew; but he was not a murderer. He had been sincere when he had talked to me; his strength had been broken down by a sense of terrible guilt … but it was not the guilt of a murderer.

But what of Grace … who was really Wilhelmina? She had once loved a murderer. I think she had helped him to escape. I tried to remember reports which had come out during the hunt for Mervyn Duncarry. He had made his escape by stabbing a warder with a knife. It was not understood how a prisoner could have a knife. Someone must have smuggled it in to him. That had been suggested at the time.

Who could have done that? Grace?

Was Justin’s theory so wild? And now she was following me to Cornwall.

Grace arrived in due course. She looked changed in some subtle way. There was an air of purpose about her.

My mother welcomed her warmly. She had always been fond of Grace and regarded her as a member of the family.

At dinner, Grace talked about the Mission. She had been there once or twice and was greatly impressed by the work which was being done.

“Well, you know what I’m talking about, Angelet,” she said. “There is that wonderful story of Fanny. I asked Timothy Ransome if I could go down and see her.”

“And did you?” I asked.

“Yes, I did. What a lovely family! Fanny is settling in. She was quite sociable, which I gather is something she has learned there. She asked after you. She told me how you and Timothy came and took her away. She seems fond of you … and Timothy … and the children, of course. Don’t you think that is a wonderful thing to have done?” she added turning to my parents. “And that is just one case.”

My mother said it was indeed wonderful.

“I gather you are doing the books,” I said.

She laughed. “What a mess they were in! Frances is magnificent … but accounts are not her line … and with all the donations coming in and the bills that have to be paid … Well, it does seem to be a line of work which nobody wants to undertake.”

“It’s the less glamorous side of the business, I suppose,” said my father.

“But very necessary,” put in my mother. “So what is happening, Grace? Are you giving them temporary assistance?”

“I’ve found it useful to have something to do. It won’t be figures all the time … once I’ve straightened out the books. I should like to do a little bit of social work, too. I think I shall be there quite frequently.”

“Frances wants all the helpers she can get,” I said.

She smiled at me. There was a certain glitter in her eyes. Or did I imagine that? I could not get the picture of her out of my mind … going into Lizzie’s bedroom … I saw Lizzie drowsy from a laudanum-induced sleep. I seemed to hear Grace’s voice. “Can’t you sleep, Lizzie? You must. You need to be fresh for tomorrow … There is a great deal to do … Here, another few drops won’t do any harm.”

Could Justin have been right?

And Lizzie had been in the way. And now … so was I.

I wanted to think of everything that had happened.

I rode out alone. Memories of the past crowded into my mind and when I remembered the past there was one incident which must always be there. The encounter by the pool … a child murdered … and Ben, younger than he was now … a little uncertain … acting in such a way as was to affect the rest of our lives. I could not help it. I found myself making my way to the pool. There was the cottage where crazy Jenny Stubbs had held Rebecca captive not so long ago. I was thinking of the dragging of the pool, the discovery of the watch and the remains of the man whom Ben and I had thrown in all those years ago.

Violence had come into our quiet lives and it had had an effect on me which was never forgotten.

I slipped off my horse and tied him to the bush just as I had on that other occasion. It was quiet … no sound at all but a sudden sighing of a gentle breeze in the weeping willows trailing into the water.

Thus it had been on that fateful day. There was the spot where he had come upon me—the piece of wall exposed now as it had not been on that day before Gervaise and Jonnie had done their excavating; and Jonnie and Gervaise now both dead.

There was so much to remind me.

The eeriness seemed to surround me. I should not have been surprised if I heard the bells—not Jenny Stubbs’s bells but the real ones—or the fantasy ones perhaps I should say—and perhaps the sound of monks’ singing as they went into their ghostly underground chapel to pray.

I stood by the pool. It looked swollen. There had been a good deal of rain recently, and as the ground about it was flat it had advanced at least a foot.

No sound at all. Nothing but memories and the feeling that here anything might happen.

Someone was coming towards me. I saw that it was Grace. She walked purposefully.

“Hello, Angelet. I guessed you’d be here. Two minds with one thought. I want to talk to you alone. It’s why I have come to Cornwall really.”

She came and stood very close to me. The ground was slippery. I was aware of her … very near to me.

“This pool fascinates you,” she said. “It’s because of what happened.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“You’ve never forgotten. How could you, after what you did with Ben’s help?”

I said: “I believe you know a great deal about that man.”

“Yes,” she answered. “I want to talk to you about it.”

“Why to me?”

“Because it concerns you. I knew Mervyn Duncarry. He was a tutor in a house where I was a governess.”

“Perhaps I should tell you that I know that.”

“Through Justin? I thought he would tell you. He is the reformed character now. Who would have believed it? And he wants to protect you. I know Justin. I know how his mind works. I know how yours works, too, Angelet.”

“I should like to know how yours does,” I retorted.

“I believe you are afraid of me. There is no need to be.”

“What should I be afraid of?”

“That is what you have to tell me. I’ve just come here to talk to you. I told you that is why I have come to Cornwall. I don’t know what is going on in your mind, but I am sure that whatever you are thinking is wrong.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because there is something you have to know and I am going to tell you. I’m fond of you, Angelet. I’m fond of your family. I remember what they did for me. I don’t know what would have happened to me but for them. Let me tell you all about it. Imagine a rather frightened young woman who suddenly has to go out and earn her living. I had looked after my mother for many years. My father had died and from then on I had cared for her. My parents had educated me well and I was said to be clever, so when she died and there was only a small income left to me I had to become a governess. I went to a house where there were two children—a girl and a boy. There was a tutor for the boy and a girl for me.”

“I know that,” I told her.

“I fell in love with the tutor. He was charming but there was this flaw in his character. It was like two personalities. There are people like that. They can be cured … with the right treatment, I believe. One night he went out and killed a girl.”

“He was the murderer,” I said.

“I loved him. I wanted to help him. You can understand that, I know. I visited him in prison. We planned to escape together. He chose a place near the sea where I would stay until he was ready to go. That’s why I came to this neighborhood. I stayed at that inn for a few nights, but I wanted to save as much money as I could for we should need it … so I decided to find a sort of post … where I need not spend money and that’s why I came to you. I went to see him in jail. I smuggled in the knife he asked for …”

“But you knew he could kill again.”

“I was desperately in love with this man. In spite of everything I wanted our future to be together. I believed I could take him away … right out of this country. I believed I could cure him. You see, it was because I refused him that he went out and did that dreadful thing. I had left clothes for him in a broken-down old hut on the moor. I put the watch there with the clothes. It had belonged to my father and I had scratched our initials on it. It was meant to be a sign that I was with him whatever happened. Then he met you.”

“And he tried to murder me.”

“I could have cured him. I was sure of it. I cannot tell you what I suffered. I thought he had deserted me. If I had known that he was lying at the bottom of the pool I could have borne it more easily. You lied. You said you found the ring near the boathouse. The boat was missing.”

“I remember. We gave it to one of the fisher boys.”

“I thought he had escaped without me and that I had helped him to do that. That was the most unhappy time of my life. I was so bitter … so angry.”

“You threw the ring into the sea.”

She nodded. “And when they dragged the pool they found the watch … they found his remains … and I knew that he had not deceived me. I hated you then … you and Ben … for all the years that I had suffered when I thought he had deserted me. He had not. He would have been faithful to me. I told myself that we could have got away together. We could have found a new life overseas. And you killed him … you and Ben.”

“We did not kill him. He killed himself. He fell and struck his head.”

“But you hid him. You gave me all those years of anguish. I hated him for what I believed he had done to me, and all the time he was lying there in that pool. He was faithful to me and I had believed him faithless.”

“So you hated us for that.”

“It was difficult to hate you, because I had grown fond of you. You and your family had been so good to me.”

“You married Jonnie. Had you forgotten your murderer then?”

“I’ll never forget him. I loved once. Some people are like that.”

“After all he did! After all he was!”

“Love such as I had for him does not take count of things like that.” She seized my arm and pressed it, and for the moment I thought she was going to attempt to throw me into the pool.

I jerked myself free. I said: “You married Jonnie for his money, I suppose.”

“I liked Jonnie. Jonnie was a good man. I worked hard in Scutari. You simplify things too much, Angelet, and people are the least simple of all things on earth. I was a good nurse. I liked Jonnie … I liked him very much. We were happy for the little time we were together. But there was one I cared for more than anyone else … and would go on caring for.”

“And Ben? You wanted Ben, didn’t you?”

“I thought I would be a very suitable wife for a politician.”

“I am sure you would. And Ben?”

“Ben was looking in another direction, wasn’t he? He was always besotted about you. I think that adventure you had together did something to you both. You wanted Ben and he wanted you and he was married to Lizzie.”

“And what of you? You wanted Ben, too.”

“Yes. I thought I might make it, too. Ben is a powerful man … the sort who was a challenge to me. He was rich … thanks to Lizzie’s gold mine. I wanted to be rich.”

“Tell me what happened on the night Lizzie died.”

“I only know what happened on the morning after. I went in and found her dead.”

“Who killed her?”

She looked at me and her lips curled faintly at the corners. “You think I might have done it, don’t you? Or was it Ben? We both had our reasons, didn’t we? It would have been rather silly of Ben to kill her just then because it would inevitably lose him that seat he so much wanted. On the other hand it would be a master stroke. People would say, If he was going to kill her why do it at such a time? On the other hand you suspect that I may have done it. Why? Because I wanted Ben for myself. But he is in love with you. I’ve always known that—so what chance have I? You wouldn’t expect me to kill a woman to make way for you, would you?”

“Grace, why are you saying all this?”

“Because I want you to see it clearly and I want to see it that way myself.”

Then I said: “Why should you kill her?”

“Because … you would not many Ben if you suspected him of murder, would you? I was ready to help and look after Mervyn, but perhaps your feelings do not go as deep as mine. I wasn’t sure. And then, you see, there was the nice kind Timothy Ransome … the pleasant life in the country, the waif living there to remind you of your virtue. You had a choice. I might have thought that if you suspected Ben of murdering his wife you would have turned to Timothy. Then the field would be clear for me, wouldn’t it?”

“Grace … I don’t understand.”

“Do you believe in reformed characters?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, look at Justin … card-sharper, blackmailer, adventurer … and now good business man, the perfect husband and father. What a transformation!”

“I really believe that Justin has changed.”

“So do I. He was lucky. I wonder what would have happened to him if he hadn’t found Morwenna and his accommodating father-in-law. Justin is one of the lucky ones.”

“And he’s turned his good fortune to advantage.”

“Nobody is entirely virtuous, you know. Not you … nor Ben … nor any of us … and some are worse than others … Mervyn, for instance, who had that terrible affliction … if affliction it was. Justin the adventurer … and I suppose you would call me an adventuress. Even Gervaise was a gambler and died owing money, didn’t he? People have to be accepted for what they are. We should not judge them too harshly.”

“Once again, Grace, why are you telling me all this?”