“Noelle is very interested in it.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “It is quite fascinating. I have been allowed to help clean some of the fragments of pottery and things which have been found.”
“How wonderful! I should love to see it.”
“You must come down one day,” said Roderick.
I could not help wondering what Lady Constance’s reaction would be if she were confronted by a dancer from the chorus of Rags and Tatters. It was a thought which depressed me, reminding me as it did of my own reception.
I was rather silent, and Roderick, with his quick understanding of other people’s feelings, realized that the theatre had brought back memories. It was too soon to have come back.
I should have more chance of putting the past behind me away from London. I was right to have decided to go back with Roderick … for a time at least.
I was greeted coolly by Lady Constance, who managed to convey that she was disappointed and had hoped that I might stay in London. Gertie was delighted to see me. It was from her that I learned the news.
“The weather’s been something shocking. It started to rain the day you left and has hardly stopped since. The river overflowed and there was a bit of trouble near all that Roman stuff. Stands to reason … all that digging. Then Grace tripped down the stairs and hurt her ankle.”
Grace was one of the maids who looked after Lady Constance’s rooms. She was more mature than most of them and had been with the household since she was thirteen.
“I hope she wasn’t badly hurt,” I said.
“Well, she’s had to lay up. Mustn’t put her foot to the ground, so the doctor says. Lady Constance sent for the doctor. So it’s me that has to do her ladyship’s rooms now.” She grimaced.
“And that does not please you, Gertie?”
“You know what her ladyship is like. She’s that particular. I’d rather look after you, miss.”
“Thank you, Gertie, but I expect Grace will be better soon.”
“Can’t be too soon for me.”
I went to see Fiona. She welcomed me warmly and told me about the flooding and the land falling in. “It’s not far from the mosaic paving,” she said. “I was very excited when it happened. I thought it might reveal something. I daresay there will be some investigation soon, but the land is too soggy at the moment. As soon as it’s a little drier, they’ll probably get to work on it.”
“I wonder if they will discover something else.”
“It’s a possibility. We’ll have to wait and see. In the meantime, have a look at this drinking vessel. Look at the intricate engraving on it. I’m having a lovely time piecing it together.”
While she was showing me, Mrs. Carling arrived. There was a certain reproach in the look she gave me which I knew meant that she was disappointed in me for not taking her advice to stay away.
“Miss Tremaston has been to London,” said Fiona. “She and Roderick came back yesterday.”
“Travelled together, did you?”
“Yes,” I answered. “He came to London while I was there. So … we came back together.”
“London must seem exciting … after this,” said Mrs. Carling.
“Oh, it is very pleasant here. And all this …” I waved my hand towards the site. “I find it most exciting.”
She gave me a penetrating look, and Fiona said: “I’ll make some coffee.”
“I’ll do that,” put in Mrs. Carling. “You get on showing Miss Tremaston those things.”
As we sat drinking the coffee, I was aware of Mrs. Carling’s attention, which seemed to be fixed on me.
I guessed she was really hurt, and a little angry, because I had not taken her advice.
It was midmorning. Roderick had gone off early with the agent on estate business, and I was wondering what I should do. I should have liked to ride out somewhere … perhaps down to the sea or through some of the little villages in the neighbourhood, but I was not really proficient enough to go out alone. Very soon I hoped to be.
I decided I would stroll down to see Fiona, which was becoming quite a habit. She seemed to like my company and clearly enjoyed talking about the artifacts and how she was treating them.
I was descending the stairs past those rooms which were occupied by Lady Constance when I noticed the door of one of them was open.
Gertie must have heard my footsteps, for she came out.
“Miss,” she whispered. “I have to show you this … it’s what I’ve found.” She put her fingers to her lips, and added: “Come in.”
I hesitated. This was Lady Constance’s bedroom, where Gertie had been working since Grace was unable to.
“You must see,” went on Gertie. “You’ll be ever so interested.”
Still I held back.
“Look … I’ll show you …”
She retreated into the room. I still stood at the door. I watched her go to the dressing table; she opened a drawer and took out a book. It was fairly large … a kind of scrapbook. She spread it out on the dressing-table top and looked over her shoulder at me conspiratorily, jerking her head in a beckoning manner.
I should have refused, I knew, but I acted on impulse and tiptoed into the room.
Gertie pointed to the open book.
I approached and gasped, for I could see a picture of my mother there. I remembered that picture well. It was taken while she was playing in Sweet Lavender. I knew the dress … a lavender-coloured crinoline. There was a mauve velvet band about her neck with some brilliants in the front.
I could not stop myself then. I went closer.
“D6siree, Miss Lavender, dominates the stage,” I read. “Her scintillating presence can even light up this dull piece.”
I felt the tears in my eyes, and for a few seconds I forgot to wonder why a picture of my mother should be in a scrapbook which must belong to Lady Constance.
“It’s all about her, miss,” Gertie was saying. “Look.” She turned a page. There were pictures of my mother … sometimes with other actors and actresses. “Desiree in Passion Flower”; “Desiree in Red Roses for May. ” The cuttings were all about her. “Desiree, looking exquisite, brought something to the tired old songs.” “The Girl from the Country: a poor thing but Desiree’s own.”
The scrapbook was full of these pieces. Someone had taken the trouble to cut them out and paste them in this book.
I was completely absorbed. Once again my memory was betraying me.
Then suddenly I was struck with horror. A shiver ran through me. I knew instinctively, before I turned, that we were being watched.
Lady Constance was standing in the doorway.
She advanced towards us. Her eyes went to the scrapbook. She said in icy tones: “I was wondering to what I owed your presence in my room.”
“Oh …” I stammered. “I was passing … and I just stopped to speak to Gertie.”
Gertie was trembling. With a nervous gesture she closed the book and put it into the open drawer from which she had taken it.
“I thought you would have finished at least ten minutes ago,” said Lady Constance to Gertie. “Grace never took so long.”
I muttered something about just going out. She nodded at me and, overcome by embarrassment and guilt, I escaped.
My thoughts were in a turmoil as I went out of the house. I felt the cool breeze on my heated face. What a terrible situation! How could I have been so foolish? I had allowed myself to pry into her secrets.
There was no doubt in my mind that she was the one who had cut out those pictures, who had pasted the notices into the book, who had read them and suffered over them and been tortured by them.
I had know the depth of Charlie’s feelings for my mother, and so had Lady Constance.