But it was over. I had to start again.
And here I was speeding through the French countryside …past farms, buildings, fields, rivers, hills. At least I was going to my mother and she wanted to see me. I thought of Captain Carmichael. He would be with her, I supposed, and the thought of that cheered me. I had been fascinated by him when I was young, and not at all displeased to discover that he was my father.
It seemed a long journey. Miss Bell would have said: “France is a big country, much bigger than our own.” I smiled fleetingly. Miss Bell would have known the exact proportions.
That was long ago—in the past. I had to turn my back on all that life—stop thinking of it, because when I did I could only see those two deceivers—Jeremy Brandon and Robert Tressidor.
When I arrived at the station and left the train a trap was waiting for me.
I was told that Madame Tressidor was expecting me, and that the journey was not very long.
My fluent French was a great help to me, and my driver was delighted that I could speak the language. He pointed out the line of mountains in the distance and told me that beyond them was the sea.
We stopped before a house. It was white—neither big nor very small. There were balconies at two of the windows in the front and bougainvillea made a colourful purple splash against the walls.
As I alighted a woman came out of the house.
“Everton!” I cried.
“Welcome, Miss Caroline,” she said.
I took her hand and in my excitement would have kissed her, but Everton drew back, reminding me of her place.
“Madame is glad that you were coming,” she said. “This isn’t one of her good days … but she wants to see you as soon as you arrive.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling a little deflated. I had expected my mother or Captain Carmichael to be waiting to greet me, though I was glad, of course, to see the familiar Everton.
“Come on in, Miss Caroline. Oh, there’s your baggage.”
The driver helped carry it into a tiled hall.
I thanked him, gave him some coins, and he touched his cap. Everton was coolly aloof.
There was a bowl of flowers on the table in the hall and their pungent scent hung in the air.
“This is a very small establishment,” Everton explained. “We only have one domestique—as they call them here—and a man for the garden twice a week. You’ll find it very different from …”
“Yes, I suppose so. May I see my mother now?”
“Yes, come up.”
I was taken up a staircase and into a room. The shutters were closed and it was dark.
“Miss Caroline is here,” said Everton. “I’ll open the shutters, shall I, just a little?”
“Oh yes. And are you really there, my darling? Oh, Caroline!”
“Mama!” I cried, and running to the bed threw myself into her arms.
“My dear child, it is wonderful to see you. But you will find everything here … so different.”
“You’re here and I’m here,” I said. “I like the difference.”
“It is so wonderful that you are here.”
Everton went quietly to the door. She looked at me for a moment and said: “You must not tire her.” Then she went out.
“Mama,” I said, “are you ill?”
“My dear, let us not talk of unpleasant things. Here you are and you are going to stay with me for a while. You can’t imagine how I have longed to see you.”
I thought: Then why didn’t you make an effort to do so? But I said nothing.
“I used to say to Everton, if only I could see my girls … Caroline particularly. Of course, you see how I live now … in penury.”
“I thought it seems a very pleasant house. The flowers are lovely.”
“I’m so poor, Caroline. I could never really adjust myself to poverty. Did you know we have only one domestique and one gardener … and not full time at that.”
“I know, Everton told me. But you have her.”
“How could I do without her?”
“Apparently you don’t have to. She seems as devoted as ever.”
“She’s a bit of a tyrant. Good servants often are. She treats me as though I’m a baby. Of course, I suffer quite a lot. There is so much I miss. This is not London, Caroline.”
“That is obvious.”
“When you think of what life was before …”
“Mama,” I said, “what of Captain Carmichael?”
“Oh Jock … poor Jock. He couldn’t stand it, you know. It was idyllic in the beginning. We didn’t seem to mind the poverty at first. We neither of us had been used to it, you know.”
“But you were in love. You had each other.”
“Oh yes. We were in love. But there was nothing to do here. For me … nothing. For him, too. No racing. He loved the races. And then, of course, there was his career … the Army.”
“He gave all that up … for you.”
“Yes. It was sweet of him. And for a while it was wonderful … even here. Your father … I mean my husband … so vindictive. You know all about that now, I gather, from Mr. Cheviot. He’s been a good friend. He looked after everything, you know. He sends the money regularly. I don’t know what I should do without that. My income from my father is infinitesimal. Jock had very little apart from his soldier’s pay, and you know, that’s not much. He was always in debt. No one should attempt to hold a commission in the Queen’s regiments unless he has a good income.”
“But what happened? Where is he now?”
She took a lace handkerchief from under her pillow and held it to her eyes. “He’s gone. He died. It was in India. It was some awful disease he caught there. He had to resign his commission, you see. Poor darling, it was all because of the scandal, you know. He went out there. He was going into some sort of business with people he knew. He was going to make a lot of money and come back to me. But the Army was the only thing he really wanted to do. The Carmichaels were all soldiers. He’d been brought up to it. But he used to say it was all worth while … in the beginning.”
“And he died!” I couldn’t believe that laughing charming man, whose company had been so delightful, was dead. “It is such a short while ago really. Only four years … the Jubilee, you remember. But so much has happened that it seems like an age.”
“Four years … is that all? Four years ago and I was in London. There was so much to do there. Do you know, I have had hardly any new clothes since I have been here. One would have to go to Paris. Such a journey. Of course, Everton is good … but what do we know of the fashions down here?”
“I suppose that is the last thing you have to worry about.”
“We came here. We had to get out of England. That was one of Robert’s conditions. He wouldn’t have us there. He made me a small allowance on condition that I did not see you girls. That broke my heart. Particularly because of you, Caroline. Olivia was his daughter. I hated him, Caroline. I didn’t want to marry him. He was the catch of the season … or one of them. So rich, you see, already making a name for himself. Well, he decided he would marry me as soon as he saw me, and although I would have preferred someone else, I had to take him. It was expected of me and everyone said how lucky I was. Oh Caroline, I can’t tell you how I hated him. I could not bear all that goodness. Do you know, he used to kneel by the bed before getting into it, praying for God’s blessing on our union, and then … and then … but you wouldn’t understand, Caroline.”
I thought of the man visiting Mrs. Crawley’s lying naked in the bed, waiting for Rosie and I said: “Yes, Mama, I think I do.”
“Bless you, my darling. Well, now you are here. I don’t know how I go on living here. It’s been so dull … ever since Jock went … and even before. There is nothing to do. If only I could go back to London. If only I had the money. When I think of all Robert had, I realize what a fool I’ve been. I had endured it for years … and only another four to go. Then I should be there … where I long to be.”