Suddenly she seemed to change her mind. Perhaps it occurred to her that she was being a little too frank on such a short acquaintance and she began to talk of the village and what a difference the discoveries had made, how glad she was that Fiona had found the work she loved so close to home—such absorbing work which she was able to share with Roderick. She talked of some of the people in the village and how she had managed to cure them of certain ailments because she had a herb garden where she grew all sorts of medicinal plants which her special knowledge helped her to use to advantage.
“Some of them call me a witch,” she told me. “Years ago I might have been burned as one. Think of all the good women who met that fate. There are white witches as well as the other sort, you know. White witches bring nothing but good. I am one of that kind … if you can call me one. I want to help people. I want to help you.”
I was relieved to hear the sound of horse’s hoofs. Mrs. Carling rose and went to the window.
“It’s Fiona,” she said, and in a few moments Fiona came into the cottage.
“Oh, Noelle,” she said. “How nice to see you. You’ve met my grandmother.”
“We have been getting along very well,” said Mrs. Carling.
“I had to go to Jasmine Cottage,” said Fiona to me. “They found some fragments of china in the garden. Someone must have thrown an old milk jug out a few years ago.” She smiled ruefully. “We get that now and then. But of course we have to look at everything. We can’t afford to let anything pass.”
“Of course not,” I said.
“Well, I’m glad my grandmother entertained you. Thanks, Granny.”
She looked a little uneasy and, having met the grandmother, I could understand that.
“I daresay you’d like some refreshment, Fiona,” said Mrs. Carling.
“Oh, I would,” said Fiona.
When Mrs. Carling left us to make the coffee, Fiona looked at me almost questioningly. I knew she was wondering what her grandmother had said to me.
I told her that we had had a very interesting chat and she seemed relieved.
We were drinking the coffee which had been prepared when Roderick arrived.
He told us that he had been to see one of the tenants and, as he was passing, he couldn’t resist calling. He looked pleased to see me there. I knew he was delighted that Fiona and I got along so well.
Fiona explained about her visit to the cottage to inspect the broken milk jug.
Roderick laughed. “Another?” he said. “Well, no doubt there will be lots more.”
“The trouble is, one can never be sure.”
“No stone must be left unturned,” quoted Roderick. “Who knows? You might find the discovery of the century. How is the vase coming along?”
“Slowly. I’m getting so many pieces of various things that I don’t know how I get them all in this place.”
“You’ll have to have a room at the Manor.”
“I might even want that.”
“Why not? There’s plenty of room. All you have to do is ask.”
“I’ll remember that,” said Fiona.
“Well, she is certainly overcrowded here,” said Mrs. Carling, smiling benignly on her granddaughter.
When Roderick and I were leaving together to return to the Manor, Mrs. Carling took my hand and looked at me earnestly.
“I do want you to come and see me,” she said.
“Thank you. I should like that.”
“Please promise me.”
“I will come.”
“I think you will find it … useful.”
We said goodbye, and when we had left the cottage, Roderick said: “What did you think of the old lady?”
“She’s very unusual.”
“Unusual! Some people think she is slightly mad.”
“She did say that she could have been burned as a witch two hundred years ago.”
“Lucky for her, then, that she was not born earlier.”
“I think she is devoted to Fiona.”
“There is no doubt about that. Fiona is a very admirable young lady. She certainly does not take after her grandmother. No flights of fancy there. Fiona has her feet firmly planted on the ground. She is wonderful to her grandmother, who, at times, must be something of a trial to her.”
We reached the house. I went in while Roderick took our horses to the stables.
I heard from Lisa Fennell. She wrote:
Dear Noelle,
I have not written before, as I have been ill. I am still at the house. Monsieur Bouchere has said I may stay until I find something suitable. Mrs. Crimp has been an angel. I don’t know what I should have done without her—and of course Monsieur Bouchere’s kind hospitality.
I was so terribly shocked by your mother’s death. I was very fond of her. Her wonderful understanding and help meant so much to me. I shall never forget how she helped me. She was the most wonderful person I ever met.
That she should die like that … at the height of her powers … and so suddenly … really shattered me. I had a slight cold at the time. It developed and with the shock I became really ill.
I can’t stop thinking of her and what we have all lost … including the theatre, which will never be the same without her. I was so depressed … so wretched. She had come into my life like an angel of mercy … and then to be taken away. I felt guilty because I was taking her place when it happened.
I’ve recovered now. I am going to throw myself into my work. I have been very lucky. Mr. Dollington has given me a part in his new show, Rags and Tatters. It will be opening in a few weeks. At which theatre, I am as yet uncertain. We are into rehearsals madly, as you can guess. Lottie Langdon is taking the lead. Mr. Dollington is very sad. Something seems to have gone out of him.
But we all have to go on, don’t we?
I do hope you will come and see the show. Perhaps you could persuade Mr. Claverham to come with you. I should so enjoy seeing you again.
With my best regards,
Lisa Fennell
Here it was back … the heartbreaking memories … Lisa under the horse’s hoofs … bringing her into the house. Desiree’s concern … bullying Dolly into giving Lisa a place in the chorus.
It would always be like that.
A few days passed and I was no nearer to making a decision about my future. One moment I wanted to stay at Leverson Manor, the next I felt an urgent desire to get away. The main reason for this was, of course, Lady Constance. At dinner I would often find her eyes on me. It was an uncanny feeling. Once, when I was talking to Roderick in the garden, I glanced up at the house and saw a shadow at a window. I knew it was Lady Constance, and I had the feeling that she was willing me to go. But whenever I suggested that I should, there were loud protests from Roderick and Charlie.
I should soon be having a meeting with the solicitor who had looked after my mother’s affairs; and when he told me exactly what the position was, I must make plans.
The estate kept Charlie and Roderick busy. It was very large and they were often out all day.
Roderick said: “When you are a little more practised, you will be able to ride out with me and see something of the estate … meet some of the tenants. I think you will enjoy that.”
He spoke as though I should be at Leverson Manor indefinitely, and I reminded myself—though not him at that time—that as soon as I had seen the solicitor, I must bestir myself and decide on my future.
My friendship with Fiona grew quickly. She was very interested in the theatrical world and over cups of coffee we talked a great deal. I found it comforting to talk of Desiree to someone who had not known her. I explained about the shows and the way she had worked. I could smile, remembering the first nights, the tension before them and the relief when they were over, the people who had come to the house, the dramas, the triumphs.