The two ladies listened with obvious amusement. Then one of them said: “This must be your first visit to the West Country.”
“Yes, it is,” I told them.
“You, as well as the French young lady?”
“The first time for both of us.”
“Is it a holiday?” asked the other.
Marie-Christine said: “In a way. We want to explore.”
“There’s no place like Cornwall, is there, Maria?” said one of the ladies to the other.
Maria said: “It’s true. There’s something about Cornwall that no other place has. I have always said that, haven’t I, Caroline?”
“You have. We’ve lived here all our lives. We don’t leave it much … except to see our married sister. She lives in Exeter.”
“Do you live near Bodmin?” I asked.
“Yes, we do.”
“Do you know a place called Meningarth?” asked Marie-Christine eagerly.
“Meningarth …” mused Caroline. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of that, have you, Maria?”
“Meningarth, did you say? No … I don’t know it.”
“Where are you going to stay?” asked Caroline.
“We haven’t decided. We thought it would be easy to get into some hotel for a night … and then, if we liked it, stay … otherwise we would look round.”
“They ought to stay at the Dancing Maidens, oughtn’t they, Maria?”
“Oh, the Dancing Maidens … yes. They couldn’t find anything better than that. That’s if they don’t mind being a little way from the town.”
“We shouldn’t mind that at all,” I said.
“There’s a fly at the station. That could take you out. It’s only a few miles from Bodmin. You could walk the distance. They’ve only a few rooms, but we’ve heard nothing but good of them. They’d look after you. One or two friends of ours have stayed there. You mention the Misses Tregorran and they’ll look after you.”
“The Dancing Maidens sounds very jolly,” said Marie-Christine.
“It’s named after the stones. They’re supposed to be like dancing maidens. You can see them from the inn. They’ve been there for hundreds of years.”
“We shall go to the Dancing Maidens as soon as we reach Bodmin,” I said. “It is kind of you to be so helpful.”
“By the way, we’re Tregorran … Marie and Caroline.”
“I’m Noelle Tremaston, and this is Marie-Christine du Carron.”
“Tremaston! That’s a good old Cornish name. A good one indeed. You must be related to the Tremastons.”
“Who are the Tremastons?”
“Who are the Tremastons!” Caroline looked at Maria and they laughed. “The family up at the Big House. Sir Nigel and Lady Tremaston. It’s half a mile out of the town. The Tremastons have been here for hundreds of years.”
Marie-Christine’s look said: I told you we ought to come here. This is getting more exciting every minute.
I could see that she had made up her mind that these were my hitherto unknown relations.
The Tregorrans went on to talk of the Tremastons. The garden fete was held on their lawn. It was in aid of the church. If it were wet, they all went into the house. That was exciting. They almost hoped for rain on fete days. The place was like a palace … like a castle.
Talk continued until we arrived at Bodmin. In a flurry of excitement, we alighted. The Misses Tregorran had not finished with us yet.
They took us to where the fly was waiting.
“Oh, there you are, Jemmy,” said Miss Caroline Tregorran.
“Have a good visit, miss? And how was Miss Sarah and the children?”
“All well, Jemmy, thank you. Now you are to take these two ladies to the Dancing Maidens.”
“Yes, miss.”
“They’ve come all the way from London.” She smirked slightly, implying that because of this we might need special care. “If they haven’t room at the Dancing Maidens, you must bring them back to Bodmin and try the Bull’s Head, or if they can’t oblige, go to the Merry Monarch. They are travelling on their own, and haven’t been to Cornwall before.”
“I’ll be doing that, miss,” said Jemmy.
She turned to us as we were getting into the fly. She said: “Mention at the Dancing Maidens that the Misses Tregorran sent you. Then they’ll look after you.”
“You have been so kind to us,” I said. “It was great good luck to meet you on the train.”
They went their way, glowing with satisfaction: and we drove out of the station to the Dancing Maidens.
The landlord at the Dancing Maidens certainly had a room for friends of the Misses Tregorran. He told us that he had looked after many friends of those ladies and there had been satisfaction on both sides.
The inn was of grey Cornish stone, and over the door hung the sign depicting three stone figures which could, by a stretch of the imagination, be said to be dancing.
I guessed it to have been built in the seventeenth century. The rooms were fairly spacious but low-ceilinged, and the windows were small; there was a general air of antiquity about everything which Marie-Christine and I found interesting.
The landlord took us to our room, in which there were two single beds, a wardrobe, a table on which stood a basin and ewer, another small table and two chairs.
We were agreeably surprised to be settled so soon, thanks to the Misses Tregorran.
The landlord told us that if we could be ready in half an hour there would be a meal awaiting us in the dining room. I said that would be very agreeable.
As we were talking, hot water was brought up, and when he left us we laughed together.
“It is all so exciting,” said Marie-Christine. “How glad I am we came!”
She went to the window.
“It’s eerie,” she said. “The sort of place where strange things could happen.”
I joined her. We were looking out over moorland. A slight wind ruffled the grass and here and there boulders jutted out of the earth. Some little way off were the stones which bore enough resemblance to the sign over the inn door to tell us that they were the Dancing Maidens.
I pointed them out to Marie-Christine, who gazed at them in awe.
“What are they supposed to be? Were they turned to stone? Perhaps because they were dancing … when they shouldn’t have been.”
“What a terrible punishment for such a small misdemeanour!”
“People did things like that in the old days. Look at the Greeks. They were always turning people into things … flowers and swans and things like that.”
We were laughing. It was the laughter of anticipation. Whatever vital facts we discovered, this quest was going to be interesting.
“Come on,” I said. “We must dash. That meal will be waiting for us in half an hour.”
There was hot soup, cold roast beef with potatoes in the jackets. This was followed by treacle tart.
“We shall certainly not starve here,” I commented.
We were served by a plump maid, whom we discovered was Sally. She was inclined to be talkative, which suited us very well.
She regarded me with something like awe. I soon realized why.
“You be Miss Tremaston,” she said. “You must belong to the Big House.”
I said: “I had never heard of the Big House until today. So I cannot claim that honour.”
“Well, everyone do know the Tremastons in these parts, and I never heard tell of any other by that name who wasn’t the family like.”
“I’ve always lived in London, apart from when I was in France for some time.”
Sally looked at Marie-Christine and nodded.
Marie-Christine said: “Do you know a place called Meningarth?”
“Meningarth?” repeated Sally vaguely. “Now where would that be to?”
“It’s near Bodmin,” I said.
“This be not far from Bodmin, and I can’t say I’ve ever heard of it.”