Vanishing Point (14 page)

“You are suggesting that Miss Holiday had acquired some dangerous knowledge, and that she may have indicated as much to Miss Cunningham, or that she may have been thought to have done so. Well, then, what about Mrs. Maple and Mrs. Selby? Don’t forget they saw her too, and that in the case of Mrs. Selby there was every opportunity for confidences.”

Miss Silver inclined her head.

“Quite so. But I think Mrs. Maple is negligible. The contact between her and Miss Holiday was brief, and any confidence very unlikely when it would have to be shouted into the ear of so deaf a person.”

“What about Mrs. Selby—a very likely candidate? Nobody seems to have tried to get her out of the way.”

Miss Silver put her head a little on one side in the manner which always reminded him of a bird and said,

“I find the immunity of Mrs. Selby very interesting, my dear Frank.”

Rosamond and Jenny had finished their tea. Jenny had already plunged back into her Gloria Gilmore, which was now at the very peak of sentiment and romance. Rosamond, for the moment unoccupied, lay back in her chair and considered with surprise her own reluctance to pick up the tray and get on with the business of taking it through to the pantry and washing up. After meaning to stay awake the night before, she had slept so deeply and heavily that it did not seem as if she was really awake even now. Her thoughts moved slowly and with an effort, and her body would not have moved at all if she had not pushed it.

The sound of Lydia Crewe’s bell brought her to her feet with an effort. Jenny frowned, jerked impatiently, and said, “Blast!”

“Jenny!”

Jenny made an impish face.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it just happened when you said it? Ping!—and no more bell! I think I’d blast Aunt Lydia too whilst I was about it.”

“Jenny—please!”

Jenny giggled.

“Oh, go along! I’ll say something much worse than that if it goes on ringing.”

Rosamond went into the crowded room with an intensification of the feeling it always gave her. There were so many things— the air was so hot and heavy that it was like moving against a sluggish tide. Her limbs were heavy too, and for a moment her head swam.

Lydia Crewe sat in her upright chair. Her grey features were composed. An old purple wrap flowed round her to her feet. The stones in her rings glittered under the chandelier. Every light was on.

“What is it, Aunt Lydia?”

Lydia Crewe said in her harsh voice,

“Come in and sit down. I want to talk to you.”

Rosamond felt a stirring of alarm. You didn’t talk to Aunt Lydia. She interrogated you, and she laid down the law. There was a cold remembrance of an interview when everyone thought that Jenny was going to die, and of another when the pattern of their life here was laid down and she had to receive it with what gratitude she could muster. She heard Lydia Crewe say, “I want to talk to you about Jenny,” and the room was suddenly full of fear.

“Yes, Aunt Lydia?”

“She is a great deal better. In fact, to all intents and purposes I think we may say that she is well. We have now to consider what the next step should be.”

“Yes—” The word came heavy and halting. She had not meant to let it stand alone, but Lydia Crewe did not wait for her to add anything to the one lame word. She went on in her decided way.

“It has been unavoidable, but no one can pretend that Jenny has been leading a normal life. A neglected education must have serious consequences in after years. She needs discipline, companionship, and a regular course of study. I do not think there can be any possible disagreement on these points. In fact, what she now needs is to go to school.”

It was what Craig had said—it was what she herself believed. But coming from Lydia Crewe it struck like a blow. Before she could find the right words the dominant voice was saying,

“I have therefore been instituting some enquiries. Miss Simmington’s school at Brinton appears to me to be just what is required. It is neither too small nor too large, the air is bracing, and the pupils are equipped to earn their own living. Lady Westerham gives me a very good account of the school and of Miss Simmington. She was left with a cousin’s children on her hands and has very kindly made herself responsible for their education, as I am prepared to do for Jenny’s.”

The deep-set eyes were fixed on Rosamond’s face. They demanded gratitude. They compelled it. Rosamond did the best she could.

“It’s very good of you, Aunt Lydia—”

The “but” which should have followed was never spoken. Miss Crewe had the word again.

“I am glad you should admit it. Young people are only too inclined to take everything for granted. I am prepared to pay Jenny’s fees, and to supply the outfit which the school requires. In return I shall expect you to continue your present duties here, and since you will no longer have Jenny to care for, I shall expect those duties to be carried out rather more efficiently than they have been. I am sure you will agree that the sooner Jenny takes advantage of this arrangement the better. In the circumstances, Miss Simmington has agreed to receive her immediately. She tells me that the outfit can be supplied locally.”

Rosamond was on her feet.

“Aunt Lydia, you don’t mean—you can’t mean that you have made all these arrangements without telling us!”

She met a formidable glance.

“You are taking a very strange tone, Rosamond. I have been put to considerable trouble, and I am prepared to undertake very considerable expense. I do not wish to remind you that you and Jenny are quite without resources of your own, but I feel obliged to do so. I have made these perfectly proper and suitable arrangements, and I expect you to fall in with them.”

Rosamond’s hands gripped one another.

“I know—Jenny will have—to go to school. I have been thinking about it—myself. I thought perhaps—next term—I thought perhaps I could get a post—near her—”

Miss Crewe said harshly,

“You have no qualifications for a post in a school. Your place is here where you can make some return, however inadequate, for what I am prepared to do for you.” She lifted some papers and held them out. “Here is a prospectus of the school, and the last letter which I have received from Miss Simmington. You will see that she suggests your bringing Jenny down on Friday.”

Rosamond made no attempt to take the papers.

“Oh, no—no!”

Miss Crewe said sharply,

“Please control yourself! I am prepared to make some allowance for the fact that this seems to have come as a surprise to you, though after the specialist’s last report you should have been prepared. You have, in fact, admitted as much.”

Rosamond spoke with an effort.

“I know—she ought to go to school. But it’s too soon. I must have time—to get her used to the idea. No one—no one would say it would be right to rush her like this. It would upset her— dreadfully.”

Lydia Crewe gave an impatient sigh.

“Really, Rosamond, you will have to watch your tendency to hysteria. If you take this attitude with Jenny, she will naturally be upset. I expect you to dwell on the advantages I shall be giving her and the companionship she will have. This agitation is entirely out of place. Please sit down and control yourself. If you go near Jenny in your present frame of mind, she will certainly set herself against the plan. Now I want to ask you quite seriously whether you think that Jenny’s present way of life should be prolonged.”

Rosamond sat down again. She mustn’t let Lydia Crewe shake her. The thing was unreasonable, and she must oppose it in a reasonable manner. She said,

“No, of course not. She must go to school, but not at a moment’s notice like this. And before she goes anywhere I should want to go down and see the head mistress, and the school, and the other girls. Jenny would feel quite differently about the whole thing if I could come back and tell her all about it.”

Miss Crewe had been looking down at her rings. The colours moved under the light of the chandelier. There was a large square ruby jostled by a great half-hoop of diamonds. There was a sapphire which had been given to her great-grandmother by the Regent, and the emerald which had been brought back from the Indies by a Crewe who had sailed with Drake. She looked up now, her eyes colder than the jewels, and said in a new voice—quieter—slower—bleak,

“So you are to call the tune? And take your time about it? Do you really know of no reason why time is just the one thing that neither you nor Jenny can be allowed to have?”

Rosamond felt cold at her heart.

“What do you mean?”

“You either know what I mean, or you are even stupider than I have thought you. Are you really ignorant of the fact that Jenny has been getting out of the house at night?”

The colour rushed into Rosamond’s face, only to drain away again and leave her blanched.

Miss Crewe gave a short hard laugh.

“I see you do know. May I ask how long it has been going on?”

“Aunt Lydia, I didn’t know. Someone told me—yesterday— that she had been seen—”

“Who told you?”

“Craig Lester.”

“And who told him?”

“He saw her—himself.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“He had gone for a walk—he couldn’t sleep—”

“Where did he see her?”

Question and answer had come so fast that there had been no time to think. It wasn’t thought that checked her now, it was the instinct to protect, to cover up, to make as little of Jenny’s escapade as she could. She said,

“She was coming into the drive.”

“And what was Mr. Lester doing there?”

“He was passing by, but when he saw Jenny he followed her until he saw her go into the house again.”

Lydia Crewe said grimly,

“By the side door. I believe that is how she comes and goes. She was lucky not to find it locked against her. If I find it open again, that is what I shall do. Well, now that you have admitted this propensity, will you maintain that it can be allowed to continue? Do you think it is safe or suitable to have Jenny wandering heaven knows where in the middle of the night? You are not very sensible or very experienced, but I suppose you read the papers. You must have some idea of what might happen to a girl wandering about alone. She wasn’t walking in her sleep, I suppose?”

Rosamond shook her head.

“Craig said not.”

“Where had she been?”

“I don’t know.”

“What did she have to say for herself?”

“I haven’t asked her anything—yet. It—it was a shock. I wanted time.”

Miss Crewe looked at her with something like a smile.

“Oh, yes, of course—you must have plenty of time. And now that you have had it, are you still going to tell me that there is any to lose? This is Wednesday. If I could have had my way, I would have packed Jenny off today. As it is, you will lock her into her room the next two nights, and you will travel down to Brinton with her by the nine-thirty from Melbury on Friday morning.”

Rosamond got up. She felt the pressure of a formidable will and she had nothing to set against it. It was Jenny herself who had plucked the weapon of reason out of her hand. Lydia Crewe had only to tell her story and everyone who heard it would say that she was doing the right thing. As she took a step towards the door, the harsh voice pursued her.

“You understand me, Rosamond—Jenny leaves this house on Friday morning.”

She said, “Yes,” and went out of the room. There was nothing else for her to say. It was an ultimatum, and they both knew it. Jenny was being turned out. If they had had any money or anywhere to go, it would have been an order of release. The plain fact was that they had nothing. When Jenny left Crewe House on Friday morning Rosamond would have no choice but to take her to the school which Lydia Crewe had chosen. She would have no choice at all.

She turned away from Jenny’s room and ran down the passage into the hall. She had the feeling that she couldn’t run fast enough. Lydia Crewe and her harsh dominant will reaching out to her, ruthless, compelling! It was like knowing that there was a fierce animal shut up in that oppressive room, and that it might at any moment be loosed and follow her. She snatched her old coat from the cupboard under the stairs and ran out by the side door and down the garden into the wood. To be alone in the dusk had no terrors. It was the house that frightened her—and Lydia Crewe. Out here in the wood she would not hear, however stridently the summoning bell might ring, however persistently Jenny might call to her. She wasn’t ready to face her yet. She must have time to put herself out of the way, and to get her to see the whole thing as an adventure. She must keep Jenny from getting hurt, and that was the way that would hurt her least.

It was very dark in the wood. There was still some light outside, but here the trees moved with their shadows and shut her in. They gave her a feeling of safety. They were the walls of her house of defence. It was her own place, where she could be quiet and steady her thoughts. She walked to and fro in the little clearing at the heart of the wood. Presently she would have to think, but for the moment all she wanted was to stop thinking, to be quiet, and above all to be away from Crewe House.

She did not know how long it was before she heard the footstep. It was a man’s step, quick and vigorous. She heard Craig calling her.

“Rosamond! Are you there?”

For a moment she was any wild wood creature. She had an instinct to stay quite still where she was and let the silence cover, her, but when he said her name again, she was Rosamond and he was Craig. She moved and went to meet him.

“Jenny said you might be here.”

There was a roughness in his voice. He had had the unreasoned thought that she might have just walked out of his world and been lost. His arm came round her.

“Why on earth do you go off by yourself like this? I don’t like it.”

She said, “I must—have somewhere—”

“That barrack of a house has rooms enough!”

She shook her head. He could see the movement, but not how she looked.

“I have to get—right away—sometimes—”

“And this was one of the times?”

“Yes.”

“Rosamond, what has been happening?”

He was too close to her not to know when she was in trouble. He felt the trouble now, but he didn’t know what it was. He had to know. He spoke her name again insistently,

“Rosamond—”

She said on a quick uneven breath,

“She’s sending Jenny away—”

“Where?”

“A school at Brinton. She’s got it all fixed up.”

“Without telling you?”

“She never said a word. Craig, I knew she would have to go sometime. But not like this. Even if she hadn’t been ill, I ought to see the place first. No one has seen it. A woman she knows sent some orphan cousins there—that’s how she heard of it. It’s just any place to send Jenny away to, and she has done it all behind my back.”

He said in a controlled voice,

“You must certainly see any place she suggests before Jenny goes there.”

He felt the tremor that went over her.

“There isn’t time—she’s planned it so that there shouldn’t be time. She says I’m to take her there on Friday—day after tomorrow! We’re to take the nine-thirty from Melbury—it’s all fixed up. And there’s nothing I can do. She’s got the whip hand and she knows it. She’s always had the whip hand. We haven’t got any money. There is no one who would take us in, and she won’t keep Jenny any longer. She is to go to school, and I am to stay here and do what I can to make up for the fees Aunt Lydia will have to pay.”

He said in his strong voice,

“Well, it’s not going to work out that way, so don’t worry. Even Miss Crewe can be made to see that she can’t just bundle Jenny off like this at a moment’s notice. Why don’t you stand up to her?”

He felt her stiffen.

“You think I’m afraid. Well, I am, but I wouldn’t let that stop me. If I were on my own I’d just walk out. I’d have done it long ago. In fact I wouldn’t ever have come. It’s like being in prison. But what can I do with Jenny? The specialist said she would need care for some time. I don’t know what I could earn—not very much, because I’m not trained for anything. It would have to be housework, or a shop—and how could I leave Jenny alone all day? I did think if I could find a really nice school they might take Jenny for less and let me work there. I’ve heard of that sort of thing. But this doesn’t give us any time. And, Craig, you say she can’t do it all in a hurry like this—but she can, and everyone would back her up. You see, she knows about Jenny getting out of the house at night.”

“How does she know?”

“She didn’t tell me, but she does. And you see, it justifies her. She said how dangerous it was, and it couldn’t possibly be allowed to go on. Everything she said was reasonable and just what anyone would say. But that wasn’t why she said it. It was just something she’d got to make me come to heel and do what she wanted. Do you see now why I had to get out of the house? I couldn’t see Jenny until I got hold of myself. I couldn’t tell her she was going to be sent away—I don’t know how to tell her now.”

He had had his arm round her all this time, and she had let it stay. It crossed his mind to wonder if she so much as knew that it was there. He put both hands on her shoulders now and let her feel their weight.

“Rosamond, stop talking! If you go on saying there isn’t anything to be done, there won’t be. It’s quite futile. If you’ll stop panicking and listen to me, there’s a perfectly simple way out of all this. I should just like to feel that you are going to listen before I tell you about it.”

“I’m listening.”

“Well, to start with, I don’t know whether you happen to remember that I’ve asked you to marry me. You didn’t say yes, and you didn’t say no, and I didn’t want to rush you. I still don’t want to—I’d like you to believe that. But events seem to be taking charge, and that would be one way of getting the better of them. If we were married there wouldn’t be any problem to settle—we could just take Jenny and go. I’ve got a house, and I’ve got a job. It’s all as simple as the ABC. But it depends on what you feel about it. I don’t know whether I’ve mentioned that I love you, but I don’t think you can have helped noticing it. I fell in love with your picture, and I fall farther and faster every time I see you. I know myself pretty well, and as far as I am concerned it will just go on like that. I’m not putting in any sobstuff, because we’ve got to use our heads. Now what about your side of it? I think I gave you a brief catalogue of my faults. Anyhow you will have noticed them for yourself by now. All I can say is what I think I’ve said before, I’ll look after you, and I’ll look after Jenny. And I’ll eat my hat if I’m not easier to live with than Lydia Crewe. What about it?”

Rosamond found it hard to believe that she could be shaking on the edge of laughter, but right from the beginning, even when he was saying the most outrageous things, even when he was making her angry, there had been a hidden spring of laughter bubbling up and threatening her self-control. If she let it have its way it would drown all the feelings of pride and self-respect to which she had been brought up. You can’t laugh at someone and be proud at the same time. The two things just don’t mix. When he said, “What about it?” it came over her how easy it would be just to say yes and let go of all her troubles.

He bent suddenly and laid his cheek against hers, not kissing her but just staying like that for a moment. When he said her name on a quick shaken breath, she pushed him away.

“You can’t, you can’t! It wouldn’t be fair!”

“To me, or to you?”

“To you of course!”

“Thank you, I can look after myself. We’re not driving a bargain, you know. We’re talking about getting married—to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death us do part. And that’s quite a different sort of thing. It means there are two of you to take whatever comes along, and if they are bad times there are two of you to take them on, and if they are good times, there are two of you to share them. It’s not a matter of being fair or unfair. I’m in it up to my neck, and all you can do about it is to stay high and dry on the bank yourself. Only I warn you I shall never stop trying to pull you in.”

She said with something between a sob and a laugh, “Oh, I’m in all right,” and felt his arms close about her. There were no more words. She put up her face and they kissed, and it was the happiest, most natural thing in the world. It was like coming home after you have been out in the wind and the rain. It was like a fire-lit room when you have been cold for a long, long time. It was like food when you are hungry, and water to quench your thirst.

He became aware that his face was wet with her tears. He said,

“Rosamond, why are you crying? It’s all over—there’s nothing to cry about now.”

“That’s why—”

“My darling idiot!”

“Yes—I am rather. There hasn’t been anyone—for such a long time—” She was groping for a handkerchief and not being very successful.

“Here—have mine.”

It was large and dry and clean. Tears were all very well in one of Gloria Gilmore’s books, but in real life they made a sight of you and you had to blow your nose.

“Better now?”

She stuffed the handkerchief down into the pocket of the old tweed coat. He could just see the movement of her head which meant “Yes.”

“Well, my sweet, that being that, suppose we get down to brass tacks. You’re not the sort that faints when you have a shock, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Because it would be damned inconvenient, and the ground is sure to be wet.”

“Craig—what is it?”

“Well, nothing much—nothing to get the jitters about anyway. It’s just that I want you to marry me tomorrow.”

It wasn’t a shock at all—it just fitted in. But she heard herself say,

“We couldn’t!”

“Darling, that’s where you make a mistake. I went to see my uncle’s solicitor in Melbury yesterday morning and got all the low-down. I am of age, you are of age, and the registrar has to have one clear day’s notice. I went on to see him, and we can get married tomorrow morning at half past ten. We can have a church wedding afterwards if you want to. It takes a bit longer, which is why I plumped for the registrar.”

“Craig—”

“Darling, you had better let me do the talking. I’ve been getting steadily more enraged every day since I first came down here. You are not only being overworked and bullied, but there are all sorts of things going on in the background. Two people have disappeared in this village. One of them has certainly been murdered, and the other probably. Jenny gets out and wanders about in the middle of the night. And now Miss Crewe wants to pack her off to a school no one knows anything about. As things are, she would have public opinion on her side, and you can’t fight her alone. I’ve got no standing and I couldn’t do a thing, but once we were married it would be a very different pair of shoes. Miss Crewe isn’t Jenny’s guardian or anything like that, I take it?”

“Oh, no.”

“Then we can just take her and go, and nobody can say a word about it. But we can’t do anything until I’ve got the legal right to take you away. I won’t rush you afterwards, and I don’t want to rush you now, but you must give me the right to look after you both. Once I’ve got that, it’s all plain sailing. Rosamond, I’ve got to get you away!”

She had walked in the wood so many times and been solaced there. Now all at once it was a cold and desolate place. She wanted to be where there were lights and people. She wanted to be anywhere in the world away from Crewe House, and from Lydia Crewe. She couldn’t look after Jenny by herself, but Craig would look after them both.