i 19ecbf681bdbdaf9 (19 page)

She didn't try to rise, for her weight was bending the hedge and taking her downwards, but the scream was still high in her head and it was yelling at her: She meant that! She meant it! She could have killed me. She wanted to. She's mad. Oh, my God! She's mad.

She was now lying almost prone in the bushes;

the branches were entangled in her clothes and she couldn't push herself forward. She wanted to cry out now with the pain from her hands as the bramble spikes pierced her woollen gloves.

Slowly and painfully she drew herself back and into the field, and there she lay for some minutes,

until she felt able to pull herself to her feet and retrieve her hat that was perched on one of the bushes.

She had adjusted her clothes and put her hat on when she heard the horse's hooves again, walking now, and she stood as if petrified, telling herself that she couldn't run across this field because a horse could easily overtake her. She was standing stiffly looking over the broken hedge when the rider drew up and stared at her. And then in an ordinary tone the words came to her: "My horse was startled. It must have been a rabbit. Anyway, you shouldn't be walking along this path, it's dangerous. Are you hurt?"

She made no reply. She couldn't reply. She just stared back at this woman, this terrible woman, this frightening creature, who, shaking the reins, now said, "Well, if you will walk along byways, that's your affair."

She was still standing rigid when the sound of the horse's hooves faded away.

When she reached home and her mother exclaimed at the condition of her coat and her bleeding hands, she told her she had slipped on the ice and fallen into the hedge, and her mother seemed to believe her. But her father looked hard at her, and she returned his stare and they understood each other.

Later, when they were alone together, he said, "Was it from the village?" and she said, "No, Dada; it was a horse-rider and I had to jump out of the way."

She knew he was puzzled by her answer but she didn't enlighten him further.

Their second meeting was in the schoolroom.

Simon often visited the schoolroom now and it was shortly after her visit to his mother that he said, "I understand that you would like to borrow some books from the library, but I'm afraid' he smiled 'there's nothing elementary enough for school use up here."

Then, as his mother had, he too asked, "Have you many books at home?"

and she had answered, "Not as many as my father would like, but he has collected a number over the years." And to this he had said, "Well, if there are any he would care to borrow, you must take them."

This morning he had visited the schoolroom early. She had just set out the books and equipment that would be necessary for the lesson. As always, the child had run to him, crying, "Papa! Papa!" And he had stooped and picked him up, saying, "You're getting heavier every day."

Then looking at Anna, he had asked a question: "Everything all right?"

"Yes. Yes, thank you."

"He is behaving himself?"

"He always behaves himself, sir."

He had looked towards the window and remarked, "It's a lovely day, cold, but the sun is bright." Then he had added, "I shall be away for the next two days, perhaps three; I'm going to London."

Before she could make any comment the child had said, "Will you take me to London one day, Papa?"

"Yes, yes, I hope I shall. That's if you remain a good boy and do what you're told, and learn your lessons."

"I shall. I shall. Papa."

He had put the child down and, stepping towards Anna, had looked her straight in the face as he said, "Should there be anything you need, or advice, my uncle will be in the house. And, of course, there is always my mother. You just need to ask if you may see her."

When she made no answer he had said softly, "You understand?" And then, inclining her head, she had said, "Yes, I understand. But I hope I won't have to trouble them."

"I hope so too. Well, goodbye." He had smiled at her, then patted his son's head. He had not, however, left by the door leading into the nurse's sitting-room, but by that leading to the landing, and there he had turned and looked at her again, his face straight, and when once more he had said, "Goodbye," she too had responded, quickly,

"Goodbye.

Goodbye, sir. "

Why should she have felt troubled? She had sat down at the table opposite the child and when he said, "Papa is big, isn't he?" she had said, "Yes. Yes, he is, dear."

"Will you take me to your house some day, Missanna?"

"I should like to, but I would have to get permission first from your papa."

"You could ask Uncle Timothy."

She had wagged her finger at him, saying now, "We'll get on with our letters, shall we, Andrew?" And he, laughing, had said, "Yes, Missanna."

It was about half past ten in the morning when the second encounter took place. Katie Riddell, who always brought up the child his hot milk and biscuits at this time, scurried into the room saying, "She's on her way."

"Who's on her way?"

"The mistress of course, who else?" And the girl poked her head forward.

"At least she was making for here. She's not usually around this part in the morning, so look out." She plonked the tray down on the table, looking at the child as she did so and saying, "Hello, Master Andrew."

He answered, "Hello Katie'; then she went out as quickly as she had come.

Anna felt a tightness in the bottom of her stomach: it was as if her muscles had suddenly contracted. She made herself go about her duties: she put a bib on the boy, tying the tapes into a bow at the back; then she poured out the milk from the jug into a cup, and he said, "Why don't you have milk, Missanna?"

"Because I prefer tea." Even whilst saying this, Anna half turned her head quickly towards the door leading into the nurse's sitting-room, from where the sound of a voice was now coming, and it certainly wasn't that of the old nurse going for her assistant, Peggy Maybright.

When the door opened to reveal the figure dressed in a riding habit, had the circumstances been otherwise, Anna's thoughts would have been.

She is beautiful! As it was, they were to tell herself she must keep calm, and she must keep her tongue quiet.

She noticed immediately that the child didn't jump from his seat as he would do when either his father or his uncle entered; he got down slowly

to go and meet his mother, and greeted her in a most polite manner.

"Good morning, Mama," he said.

"Good morning, Andrew. What are you doing?" She looked towards the table.

"I am going to have my milk, Mama."

She now walked up to the table, looked down on to the tray, then turned her cold gaze on Anna and said, "He should not be eating off a tray; a table should be set apart."

"I shall see to it, Mistress."

"Yes; yes, you will see to it." She now looked around the room as if she hadn't seen it before and when her gaze was halted as she saw an easel, the child cried excitedly now, "Papa bought that yesterday for Missanna to write on. It is called a black ... board."

His mother now walked towards the easel that supported the blackboard, and the child in his excitement ran to it and said, "This is a weasel."

"Easel."

"Weasel. Yes, Mama, weasel."

"Say, easel."

"It... it is difficult. Mama, to say weasel."

The eyes were turned on Anna now.

"Why haven't you done something about this?"

"It is an impediment of a sort. Mistress. I'm aiming to cure it, but it will take time."

It was as if the child sensed the hostility and aimed to soothe it by saying, "I know my two-times table. Mama, and I can count on the ab a cus. And Missanna says I am ..."

"Who is this Missanna?"

"Why'the child put out his hand' teacher is Missanna. Papa said I had to call... Now the voice was so loud that the child shrank back as his mother yelled at him, " She is the teacher and you will call her teacher. You understand? " She was bending down to him, her hand tapping her skirt as she spoke. And it was a moment before the child answered, " Yes, Mama. "

As Anna watched the woman slowly straighten her back and turn towards her, she had an overwhelming desire to respond physically to this woman- she could see her hand slapping that face for there would be no reasoning with her.

And when she said, "In future you will report his progress to me every week when I'm at home. You understand?" She couldn't answer her; she couldn't force, "Yes, Mistress," through her lips.

"I am speaking to you, girl!"

Now she was answering, her words coming fast:

"I am aware of that. Mistress; you leave no doubt in anyone's mind to whom you are speaking. Well, I am speaking, too, and let me tell you I have no need to put up with your treatment. I was engaged for this post by Andrew's father and I shall take my orders from him. Is that plain?"

She watched the colour drain from the peach-like skin; she watched the high collar of the riding-habit move in and out as if the woman was choking; and she was prepared for the onslaught. The words were fired like bullets from a gun and the report of them as loud, as she screamed, "You insolent slut, you! You low-born insolent slut! Get out of my sight before I take my whip to you!"

"Mama! Mama! Don't! Don't smack Missanna."

The sight of her son throwing his arms protecringly around Anna's hips and pressing his head into her waist was too much. Her hands reached out and, grabbing the collar of the child's blouse, she actually flung him across the room; and his screaming died away as his head hit the skirting board and he became still.

There followed a deep momentary silence, until the door from the sitting-room flew open and the nurse hurried in crying, "Mistress!

Mistress! What have you done? "

Penella Brodrick was now leaning against the table, her hands gripping the edge, her body half over it, and she didn't answer the nurse, nor even turn her head when she heard the child begin to cry now, but seemingly having to make an effort to drag herself up straight, and with one hand held out before her as if groping her way, she went from the room.

"Missanna. Missanna."

"I am here, dear. Don't cry, don't cry. Let me feel your head." Anna felt the back of the child's head, where a bump was slowly rising, and as she picked him up from the floor the nurse said, "Cut?"

"No, only a lump."

"My God! She could have killed him. But you ... you, lass, your tongue'll get you hung. I've never heard anything like it. One thing sure, she's never been spoken to like that in her life ... Bring him in and lay him on the couch."

A few minutes later, when the child was tucked up on the couch, the nurse stood beside the fire and, looking down on Anna, who was now actually shivering, she said, "Lass, lass, you've got to learn to still that tongue of yours."

"How ... how could I? The things she said, the way she went for me."

"Aye, I heard it all; I've sharp ears. She takes some standing, I'll admit that, by God! she does. And I'll say this to you; you know nothing of it. There's never been a day's peace in this house since she set foot in it. Of course it was her upbringing; she was spoilt from the day she was born. She was one of the Harrisons. Rotten with money they were, on their mother's side anyway;

French, she was, so they tell me, and the father Irish, as mad as a hatter, died on his horse blind drunk, they say. The mother had relations in Newcastle and was married to one of the ship owners The mistress came to a dance here with them. I remember the first time I saw her. We were watching from the upper gallery. She had all the men around her like a queen bee, but from the beginning she had her eye on Mr. Simon and he on her an' all, it must be confessed. An' then in the weeks that followed, Mr. Raymond an' all came into the picture.

The three of them were always riding together, and be at this or that do, too. Then, of a sudden, her mother yanks her back to France; she had a Count or some such in her eye for her. But what does she do? In no time she's in Newcastle with her maid and, I understand, enough luggage that would have filled the hall here. And then started the tug of war as to who was going to get her, Mr. Raymond or Mr. Simon. But who did she really want? There seemed to be a tussle.

Anyway, she marries Mr. Simon, and mind, she could give him three years, although she doesn't look her age. "

The old woman walked towards the couch and looked down on the child, whose eyes were now closed as if he had fallen asleep; and almost under her breath she said, "From the minute they came back from the honeymoon there was a change. Nobody knew what had happened. Nobody knows to this day what had happened." She now glanced sideways at Anna as she added, "A body can only guess, but it's wise to keep your guesses to yourself."

"I can't stay here, nurse. I love the child, but you see it's impossible ..."

"And the child loves you, me dear. He's been a different boy since you came. What company am I for a bright little lad like that? What can I learn him, or Peggy Maybright, for that matter. She can't even play with him, doesn't know how. All she's good for is fetchin' and carryin'. Look, me dear." She now pulled a chair up and sat in front of Anna.

"She'll be gone in a day or so. Conway is skittering around, already packing, they say. The clothes that woman has, you wouldn't believe.

They say she changes from her shift up twice a day. The flat irons are going in the laundry from sunrise till the moon shows up.

So, me dear lass' she patted Anna's knees now 'stick it out. Mr.

Simon's for you and Mr. Timothy an' all. Oh aye, Mr. Timothy. And from what you didn't tell me what went on when you met madam, I understand it was pretty plain sailing down there. So you see, just give it a day or two more, perhaps a week at the most, and you won't know you're in the same house. "

"She doesn't seem sane, nurse ... I mean, there's no reason for her attacks."

"Oh, that's what you think. As for being sane, she's sane all right and it's the devil's saneness. And you think there's no reason for her attacking you as she does? Why, that woman is as jealous as hell of anyone Mr. Simon has a good word for. She dismissed her other maid.