I awoke in the morning and went, as I usually did, to the window to look out on the splendour of the gardens, which were at their best at this time of day. It was fortuitous, for the first person I saw was Charlie, sitting on the wicker seat on the lawn, and he was alone.
Now was the time. I hastily washed and dressed, hoping that he would still be there when I was ready to go down. By good fortune he was. He called a cheery “Good morning” as I came out of the house and I went over to him.
“It’s a glorious morning,” he said.
“Charlie,” I told him. “I have to talk to you.”
“Sit down,” he said, looking at me anxiously. “Is anything wrong?”
“Yes, it is. I have to go, Charlie. I can’t stay here.”
He was silent for a few moments. Then he asked: “Is it … my wife?”
“Well, yes. She doesn’t want me here.”
“She will change.”
“I don’t think she will. After all, it is asking a lot of her.”
He brooded for a moment. “She will grow accustomed to having you around,” he said, with more hope than conviction.
“No, Charlie, she will not. And I have decided that I must go.”
“Where to? And what will you do?”
“I have to make up my mind. The blow came too suddenly. It was the last thing I expected. She was so well … and she had such vitality … and then, to go like that.”
He held my hand and pressed it. He understood; he felt the same.
“What can I do, Charlie?” I asked.
“There is always a home for you here. I promised her …”
“I know. But she would be the first to understand that I have to go, and the sooner, the better.”
“To London?”
“Just at first. I thought I might get some post.”
“Post? What sort of post?”
“Governess. Companion. That is what most people do when they are in my position.”
“It would not do for you, Noelle. You have your mother’s independent spirit.”
“An independent spirit is all very well if you have the means to support it. I know roughly what my position is. I shall have to consider.”
“My dear Noelle, there is no need to think about that. I am going to give you an allowance.”
“Thank you, Charlie, but I could not accept it. I want to stand on my own feet. When the solicitors have worked things out in detail, I shall know exactly where I stand and what I can do. Very shortly I am going to Mason, Mason & Crevitt and everything will be clear. In the meantime I shall go back to London. Robert will let me stay in the house for a while.”
“Robert bought the house so that it would always be a home for you … in the way it always had been.”
“I cannot take that from him, any more than I can take an allowance from you. I shall not be entirely penniless. Compared with some people, I shall be affluent. Charlie, I have to get away.”
“I have sworn to look after you, Noelle. I promised your mother. She made me swear.”
“Yes, I know you promised her, but she did not foresee difficulties. And … I have made up my mind.”
He sighed. Then he said: “Very soon I shall be going abroad on business. Probably the day after tomorrow. I shall be away for several weeks. Promise me this. You will not go until I come back.”
I could almost hear the voice of Mrs. Carling: “You must get away at once.”
She seemed a long way from reality. Out here in the fresh morning air, I could tell myself that it was ridiculous to be influenced by an old woman with a crystal ball. It smacked of theatrical melodrama. I was sure Charlie would have laughed it to scorn if I had told him.
“That’s a promise, then,” he said. “I tell you what we’ll do, Noelle. Why not go and see your solicitor now? You could travel up to London with me and stay at our place, or your old home. It need only be for a night or two. You could hear what the solicitor has to say and then we could discuss it when I get back. How’s that?”
“Yes. It sounds sensible.”
“You don’t want to rush into anything. You’re shocked, Noelle, still. We all are. It was so sudden and she meant so much to us. We can’t think clearly. I want to know you are under my roof. That is what she wanted. I don’t want you to be in London … alone. So let’s fix it, shall we? You and I will go to London. I shall be going off to the Continent at once. You’ll stay there for a day or so and then come back here. I promise you that when I return to Leverson, we’ll go into all this thoroughly.”
“Yes,” I said. “That seems a good idea.”
I was relieved. In spite of the hostility of Lady Constance, the warning from Mrs. Carling and the feeling that I should not be here, I did not want to leave Leverson.
The Fire and the Rain
Charlie and I arrived in London in the late afternoon. I was deeply moved to be back, and the familiar sights gave me mingling feelings of pleasure and pain. Everywhere there was so much to remind me of her. Charlie and I said little, but we understood each other’s mood because we shared it.
I was staying at his London house. I could have gone to my old home, but I thought that would have been too painful just yet, and there was a certain anonymity about Charlie’s pied-a-terre, something impersonal which suited me at the moment.
The following day Charlie left for the Continent and I went to Mason, Mason & Crevitt. The result of that interview was the assurance that the capital left by my mother would bring me in a small income—enough to live on frugally—so there was no immediate need to think of augmenting it. The position was much as I had thought it to be. If there had been an urgent need, I should have had to take some action. I almost wished there had been something more positive.
I decided that I would not return to Leverson yet.
It was inevitable that I should call at my old home. I had walked past it and resisted the impulse to knock at the door. I kept remembering too much, even in the street. There was the spot where Lisa Fennell had fallen in front of the carriage and so come into our lives. There was the window where I used to watch for my mother’s return from the theatre.
I had felt then that it would be unbearable to go inside.
But the next day the urge to go in was too strong to resist.
When I knocked at the door, it was opened by Jane. She stared at me for a second and then her face broke into a wide smile.
“Miss Noelle!”
“Yes, Jane,” I said. “It is.”
“Oh, come in. I’ll tell Mrs. Crimp.”
“I was passing,” I began, “and I …”
But she was not listening. She ran through the hall and I followed. “Mrs. Crimp! Mrs. Crimp! Look who’s here!”
And there was Mrs. Crimp, her face creased with emotion. She rushed towards me and enfolded me in her arms.
“Oh, Mrs. Crimp,” I said, my voice trembling.
“There!” said Mrs. Crimp. “Oh, Miss Noelle, it is good to see you.”
“I passed yesterday, but I couldn’t …”
“I know. I know. Come along in. Oh, Miss Noelle, it brings it all back, it does.” She took a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. Then she straightened herself and said briskly: “You’d better come to my room. I want to hear how you’re getting on.”
“And how are you getting on, Mrs. Crimp?”
“Oh … it’s not the same. ‘Caretakers,’ I said to Mr. Crimp. That’s what we are!’ When I think of the old days … I tell you, I could sit down and have a good cry.”