I knew this routine must soon be interrupted by the return of James. I was enjoying my stay, but ever present was the need to find out the truth about Simon and there were times when I felt a deep frustration and despair.
It was maddening to be so near to his old home, but how could I get to it without arousing suspicion? I was afraid to make outright enquiries. The very fact that Lucas had met him at some time implied that it would be very easy to make a false step and reveal to him who John Player really was. And if he discovered, how did I know what action he would take? True, John Player had saved our lives, but if Lucas believed him to be a murderer, a fugitive from justice, what would he feel he ought to do about it?
It would have been such a relief to talk to him about Simon, but I dared not do it. Sometimes I thought of telling Felicity. I was indeed often on the verge of doing so, but I always drew back in time.
But I was getting desperate and that day at luncheon I had to speak. I said tentatively: “Wasn’t there a murder somewhere about here … ?”
Theresa wrinkled her brows. Then she said: “You must mean that affair at Perrivale Court.”
“Yes,” I cried, hoping I did not show the emotion I always felt when the subject was raised.
“I … I think that was where it was.”
“It was the adopted son,” said Lucas.
“He’d been cared for all his life,” Carleton added, ‘and he showed his gratitude by murdering one of the sons of the house. “
“I think we mentioned it before,” I said to Lucas.
“Didn’t you say you’d met him?”
“Oh yes … years ago … and briefly.”
“How far is the place from here?”
Theresa looked at Carleton, who pondered for a few moments.
“As the crow flies, I’d say seven or eight miles, but if you are not a crow it could be a little longer.”
“Is it near some place … some town … or village?”
Carleton said: “It could be near … where would you say, Lucas?
Perhaps Upbridge is the nearest town. “
“It’s a mile or two from there,” said Lucas.
“The nearest village would be Tretarrant.”
“Well, that is little more than a hamlet.”
“Yes. Upbridge is the nearest big town.”
“If you can call it big,” added Lucas.
“It’s hardly a teeming metropolis.”
“Oh, it’s a pleasant little place,” said Theresa.
“Not that I’ve been there much.”
“I dare say it seemed more important… after the death of that man.”
“Well, of course the Upbridge Times was in great demand,” said Lucas.
“They had inside information. They knew the family well. I see you have a morbid interest in the place, Rosetta. I tell you what we’ll do. Tomorrow we’ll ride out there and you can see the notorious town of Upbridge for yourself.”
“I should like that,” I said, my heart beating with triumph.
It was progress.
The next day Lucas and I set out. When he was in the saddle, I could almost believe that he had not changed since our first meeting.
“It’s all of eight miles from here, you know,” he said.
“Do you feel up to it? Eight miles there and eight back? I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll have a meal there. Perhaps in good old Upbridge. Now I come to think of it, I believe there’s quite a good place this side of Tretarrant. Do you feel you can do that?”
“Of course. It’s a challenge.”
It was, in more ways than one.
Then I was admonishing myself. What good would it do just to look at the place? Still . who knew what might come out of it?
Lucas went on: “The inn I’m thinking of is called the King’s Head, I believe. Original, you’ll think? The King in question is William IV not the most popular of monarchs except in the matter of inn signs. I am always hoping to find one with Charles I. The Severed Head instead of merely the King’s Head. But, brewers being the most tactful of men, he has never appeared.”
I found myself laughing with him. He could forget bitterness for a while; but there was often something on hand to remind him.
We passed some blackberry bushes.
“There’ll be a good crop this year,” he said.
“Do you remember how thrilled we were when we found some on the island?”
“We were thrilled to find anything edible.”
“Sometimes I marvel…”
“Yes, so do I.”
“I wonder what would have happened to us if the pirates had not come along?”
“Heaven knows.”
“But it proved to be out of the frying-pan into the fire.”
“At least we escaped the fire.”
“You and I did. I wonder about Player.”
“Yes, I do, too.”
I was silent. I felt that before long I would be telling him, in spite of my determination not to. The temptation was great.
“I expect he’d be all right. He looked like one of nature’s survivors to me.”
“He would need to be,” I said.
“By the way, how far are we?”
“Getting tired?” , “Oh … no.”
“I’ll tell you something. You’ll be a champion rider one day.”
“I only want to be a reasonably good one now.”
“Then you are almost there.”
“Coming from you, that’s a great compliment.”
“Tell me the truth. Am I what is called an old curmudgeon?”
“Coming towards it. You could become entitled to it before I become a champion rider.”
He laughed.
“That’s right,” he said.
“Be frank. Don’t cushion me. I’m tired of being protected. Carleton and Theresa … I can hear them thinking, ” Now what shall we say, not to upset the poor devil? “
“Well, I shall say what I think.”
“It’s good to be with you, Rosetta. I hope you won’t leave Trecorn for a long time.”
“Well, I shall go back with James and Felicity. Felicity hates to leave her children.”
He sighed.
“We must make the most of the days you are here. What an excellent idea it was coming out like this. I only hope it won’t be too long for you.”
“Didn’t you say I’d be a champion rider one day? Well, that day may not be far off.”
“Good. We’ll go across this field. I think it might be a short cut.”
When we had crossed the field, he pulled up. There’s a view for you.
Pleasant bit of coast, isn’t it? “
“Pleasant! It’s spectacular and very rugged. I’d hardly say pleasant. That doesn’t fit somehow.”
“You’re right. Along that coast the wreckers used to ply their evil trade … enticing ships in rough seas on to the rocks out there so that they could steal their cargoes. I’ll bet you anything the locals hear the cries of shipwrecked sailors on rough nights. Winds can make strange noises and if they fall on susceptible ears, there are your ghosts!”
“Were you born a cynic?”
“I expect so. We couldn’t have had two saints in the family.”
“You’re referring to Carleton as a saint. Why are people always slightly patronizing about saints?”
“There’s an easy answer to that. Because we find it so difficult to follow in their footsteps. We sinners have to feel we are slightly superior because we’re having a better time.”
“Do sinners have a better time than saints?”
“Oh yes. At the same time they feel it is unfair that they should do so. That is why they have to take up that patronizing attitude towards sainthood. Carleton is a good sort. He always did the right thing.
Learned the management of the estate, married the right girl, produced Henry the heir and the charming Jennifer; he is adored by the tenants, the estate is more prosperous under him than it has ever been. Oh yes, he has all the virtues. Well, you can’t have too many good people around. They’d overcrowd the market and would lose much of their glory. So you see, sinners have their uses. “