So it was just my grandparents, my mother and myself.
“I daresay Jack and Marian will be over to see you tomorrow,” my grandmother was saying. “They are so pleased you are here. Marian will be a great help … such a practical girl. And then, of course, there’s Mrs. Polhenny … she’ll be over.” She looked at me. “A pity Pedrek’s not here. Poor boy! School has put an end to his frequent visits. He’s growing up fast.”
“Tell us what has been happening here,” said my mother.
“Oh, nothing much. Life goes on in the same old way in remote places, you know.”
“Well, you did have the French refugees here. Are they still at High Tor?”
“No. They bought the place though. They probably wish they hadn’t now. They’ve got another place near Chislehurst. They pride themselves on their aristocratic connections.”
“Oh yes,” said my mother. “The Emperor and Empress went there, didn’t they?”
“Yes. Exiles. I believe they have a fine house there. When the Emperor died, the Bourdons thought they ought to go and comfort the Empress. I’ve no doubt she keeps a little court there.”
“I heard of his death,” said my mother. “In January … I think.”
My grandmother nodded.
“And what about Mrs. Polhenny’s daughter? “I asked.
“Oh, Leah is staying with an aunt now. St. Ives way, I think.”
“An aunt! Who’s that? Mrs. Polhenny’s sister?”
“I should think so.”
“I didn’t know she had any relations,” I said. “I thought she just descended from Heaven to lead the unrighteous back to the fold.”
We all laughed and my grandfather said: “I must say it seems strange to think of her as a child with a sister … and growing up like an ordinary little girl.”
“It may be that she was quite normal then,” said my mother, “and suddenly she was made aware of her mission … like St. Paul on the road to Damascus.”
“I am sure Mrs. Polhenny would appreciate the comparison,” put in my grandmother.
“Did Leah do the tapestries at High Tor?” I asked.
“Yes. She was there for some weeks … well, all of a month, I believe. It changed her. I saw her once or twice. She looked so well … and happy. Poor girl, it must have been wonderful to get away from her mother.”
“Why do good people so often make others uncomfortable?” I asked.
“I doubt whether they are as good as they think they are,” replied my grandmother, “and the rest of us are not as bad as they think we are.”
“The thing is not to let such people bother you,” added my grandfather.
“It’s not easy if you happen to be the daughter of one,” retorted my mother and added: “Poor Leah!”
“Well, I’m glad she enjoyed her spell at High Tor,” I said. “And now she’s gone to this aunt. It looks as though she has developed a taste for adventure.”
“I’m surprised that Mrs. Polhenny allowed it,” said my mother.
“Well, she was at length persuaded to let her go, though she stood out against it at first.”
“Leah is growing up now,” said my mother. “Perhaps she is developing a will of her own as well as a taste for adventure.”
We went on chattering about life in the Poldoreys, my mother asking after all the people whom she had known as a child.
It was wonderful to be together like this. It was my happiest day since I had heard she was going to marry Benedict Lansdon.
The days sped by. My mother protested when she had to take her enforced rests. Dr. Wilmingham called. He was pleased with her condition. He stayed to luncheon for he had been a friend for many years. He shared my grandmother’s opinion of Mrs. Polhenny. “She can be irritating at times,” he said, “but she is one of the best at her job. A really dedicated midwife. We could do with more like her.”
I used to go for little walks with my mother. “Fresh air and exercise is good,” Dr. Wilmingham said, “as long as it is not overdone.”
We walked in the gardens but my mother liked to go farther afield. She was very fond of the walk to Branok Pool. The place had a strange fascination for her. She told me the story of how it had been dragged when she thought I had strayed into it so many times that I knew every word by heart.
Such places change little. It must have been exactly like that all those years ago with the willows trailing in the water and the marshy ground round the brink. My mother liked to sit on one of the protruding boulders and she would watch the water as though her thoughts were far away.
Now and then we would catch a glimpse of Jenny Stubbs, sometimes singing in that strange voice of hers which had an uncanny otherworldliness about it, and sounded very eerie by the pool.
She would calclass="underline" “Good day to ’ee, Miss Angel … Miss Rebecca.”
My mother answered her in a specially gentle voice. Jenny seemed to have a fondness for her. She hardly noticed me which was strange as I was the one she had kidnapped and she had believed was her own.
“Good day, Jenny. A lovely day, isn’t it?”
Sometimes Jenny would pause and nod her head. She would look at my mother wonderingly. It was obvious that she was pregnant now.
Once Jenny said: “I see you be expecting, Miss Angel.”
“Yes, Jenny.”
Jenny lifted her shoulders and giggled. She pointed to herself. “Me too, Miss Angel. Little girl I be having …”
“Yes, Jenny,” said my mother.
Jenny smiled and walked back to her cottage, singing as she went.
Benedict came down several times. We never knew when he was coming. He would suddenly appear, to cast a cloud over my days. Then it seemed that I lost her. He was the sort of man who seemed to fill a room with his presence. At the dinner table he was the center of conversation. It was all about what was happening in the Party, when the next election could be expected. It was almost as though Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Disraeli joined us at the dinner table.
He and my mother were constantly together during his stay. There was no place for me.
I heard him say to her once: “It seems so long. I wish I had never let you go so far away from me.”
She laughed softly and happily and replied: “It won’t be long now, darling. Then I’ll be home … with the baby. It will be wonderful.”
I felt then that I must enjoy every moment. This happiness could not last.
May had come. In another month the baby would arrive. Mrs. Polhenny was now sure that it would be earlier than we had at first thought.
“I shan’t be able to walk so far soon,” said my mother.
“Perhaps you should not walk so far now,” I replied.
“I want to see the pool once more.”
“I don’t think those boulders are very comfortable for you to sit on.”
“Nothing is comfortable just now, Becca.”
“And they might be a little damp.”
“In this weather? There’s been no rain for weeks. Come on.”
“Well, if you get tired we shall turn back.”
“I can get there. I want to.”
“Why does the place fascinate you so much? It’s gloomy and it always seems to me that there is something evil about it.”
“Perhaps that’s why.”
“They ought to put railings round it to prevent accidents,” I said.