Daughter of Deceit (22 page)

“Of course not. She does not like any young woman not of her choosing to be friendly with her son.”

“I see.”

“You and I both come into that category. She thinks we have designs on Roderick, and she is preserving him for higher things. It’s rather amusing. She would do anything to keep me from seeing more of Roderick. Just imagine what it would be like if I were on the premises! It’s bad enough having me here. I am sure she wishes that the site had never been discovered.”

My spirits rose a little. It was comforting to find someone in the same position as I was—although I suppose her resentment for me had sprung from Charlie’s relationship with my mother, although she would have noticed my growing friendship with Roderick.

“So that is why you don’t want to have a room in the house?”

“Well, if I thought it would be better for the work, I would put up with Lady Constance’s disapproval. But I don’t think it would be, and it’s true that I think this is better for work.”

Her work, I thought, seems more important to her than Roderick’s presence, and that thought gave me a certain pleasure and relief.

The mystery as to how the fire in the cottage had started was the main topic of conversation in the neighbourhood for several days. Theories were put forward, and the favourite one was that a tramp had got in and set it alight. Some asked why should he want to destroy a place which was his shelter. The answer was that he lighted a pipe and started it that way; then it got out of control, so he ran off and left.

Gertie told me what was being said. She had thought—and this was the general view—that Miss Vance would have had a room at the Manor. Mr. Roderick had been heard to say that this was what she should do—at least while the place was being repaired.

“Poor Miss Fiona,” said Gertie. “Such a nice lady … a real lady. Never gave herself airs. A regular life they say she has with that old grandmother.”

“She never says …”

“Oh no. She wouldn’t … not about her own grandmother. But she’s a strange one, that Mrs. Carling.”

“I believe she has something of a reputation.”

“Oh yes. Well, she’s good with girls in trouble. Those things she grows in her garden work wonders, and she tells the future, some say. They can go to her and she can see what’s going to happen. She tells you what you should do and what will happen to you if you don’t.”

“And you believe this? Have you any proof?”

“Well, there’s some as say they have. But she’s an odd one. She does queer things. She walks about the place at night.”

“How do you know?”

Gertie was silent for a few seconds, and then said: “Well, I’ll tell you, miss. It’s that little Kitty.”

“The maid of hers?”

“Yes, miss. I’m sorry for her. Half scared out of her wits, she is. I’ve made a sort of friendship with her. She was carrying a load from the shops some little time back, and the handle of the bag broke and there was everything, all over the place. She just stood there, looking as if she was going to cry. I said to her, ‘Look here.

That’s not the end of the world, you know.’ I picked up the things for her and put them into the bag. Then I tied up the handle somehow, so she could carry it. You wouldn’t believe it, miss. You’d have thought I’d saved her life. She looked on me as though I was some sort of god. You can’t help liking that sort of thing. As for her … she’s like a little waif … never had a chance. That family of hers didn’t want her. Treated her shocking … and all because she was tuppence short. Then she went to old Mrs. Carling, and she’s like a slave to her. I took quite a fancy to poor little Kitty. I suppose it was because she thought I was so wonderful.”

I laughed. “I think you’re wise in a lot of ways, Gertie.”

“Well, thank you, miss. I had a word with Kitty. I told her she could always come to me and I’d give her a hand if there was any trouble. You should have seen her. Her face … it made me feel I was something.”

“Oh, Gertie, you are. You are indeed.”

“Oh, I’ve got my head screwed on all right, miss. I see her now and then. She always runs up to me. She tells me things. You know, they sort of come out. She thinks Miss Fiona is a saint with what she has to put up with. As for the old lady, she can act very strange sometimes, and Miss Fiona tries to keep it all looking as normal. It seems to me that Mrs. Carling does certain things to make her prophecies come true.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think it seems as though she gives things a little push, to make them go the way she wants.”

“I suppose, when you make prophecies, you should see that there is a good chance of their coming true.”

“Well, you might say that. It’s a pity Miss Fiona don’t come here to do her work. It would be better than that old cottage. Mrs. Carling was really put out about Miss Fiona not taking a room at the Manor when it was offered. She goes on and on about it till Miss Fiona nearly loses her patience. Still she goes on. ‘After all I’ve done for you,’ and that sort of thing. It really upsets Miss Fiona. Mrs. Carling says it’s asking for trouble when you don’t
take the chance when it’s given you. No good will come of it. Of course, you can’t get much out of Kitty. I just piece it all together. Anyway, I don’t reckon Miss Fiona has much of a life with all that going on.”

Descent into Danger

There was a great deal of heavy
rain during the next few days, and Roderick told us that the water was having an effect on some parts of the land. The fact that over the centuries it had been gradually reclaimed from the sea meant that it was soft and in places inclined to be soggy; and there were one or two places where there was a danger of subsidence.

“We’ve had this trouble before,” he said. “It follows this sort of weather. We have to keep a watchful eye on things.”

“What can you do?” I asked.

“The most important part is to keep people off it until we can bank it up or do something about it. All the digging which has been going on since the discoveries hasn’t helped, of course. When my father comes home we’ll have to talk about it. In the meantime we are putting up a few warning notices in what we feel may be vulnerable spots.”

We discussed it over dinner that evening.

“It can’t be long before your father is home,” said Lady Constance.

“No. He’ll soon be back now. There’s more damage been done to the cottage than we thought at first. I do think Miss Vance ought
to come here for a while anyway. She would be so much more comfortable than with the workmen there.”

“It’s her choice,” said Lady Constance sharply. “You offered her a room, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And she wouldn’t take it. I should have thought that was an end to the matter.”

Roderick looked at his mother steadily. “I believe she won’t come because of you.”

“I? What have I to do with it?”

“You are the mistress of the house. If you show clearly that you don’t want her here, she can’t very well come, can she?”

Lady Constance caught my eye guiltily, and I felt sorry for her.

I said: “I understand Miss Vance prefers to work near the site.”

Roderick replied: “That is what she says, but I am sure, Mother, that
if you
invited her, she would come … if only temporarily—while the work is done.”

“Is that what you expect me to do?”

“I don’t expect it, but I should be pleased if you did.”

“I can’t see why.
My
wishes don’t enter into the matter.”

“But they do. Look. It is going to be very uncomfortable for Miss Vance while they are cleaning things up at the cottage. If you invited her to come here temporarily, I am sure she would agree to come.”

“But she has already refused.”

“Because she thought you did not want her. Moreover, she didn’t realize what an upheaval it was going to be. It will certainly disrupt her work.”

“Very well. I’ll have a word with her.”

“You will?” cried Roderick with obvious pleasure.

“As you feel I should and are blaming me for the woman’s being in such dire straits, I’ll have a word with her. I’ll go over to see her this afternoon.”

I was amazed, and so was Roderick. In fact, he was delighted. I was interested to see how Lady Constance basked in his approval. There was no doubt of her affection for her son. He and her husband were the two she cared about. I thought of the scrapbook and how she had kept cuttings about my mother, knowing of Charlie’s love for her, and I could guess how deeply she had suffered. Her resentment of me was completely understandable, and it was insensitive of Charlie to have brought me here. That was another reason why I should go as soon as possible. I understood Lady Constance’s coolness to Fiona. In fact, there was a good deal I was beginning to understand about Lady Constance. I was changing my attitude towards her. I could pity her: I could excuse her resentments because I knew the reason for them. She who had been so proud had been bitterly humbled: she who had determined to be strong, to rule her household and plan the best for her husband and son, was vulnerable.

The next day Roderick went off early. It continued to rain during the morning and cleared up after luncheon, which we took in our rooms. I was glad of that. I did not want to have to face Lady Constance alone.

I was wondering what she would say to Fiona and what Fiona’s response would be. Fiona could be forthright. The outcome would be interesting to me, because in a way Fiona’s case was not unlike my own.

It was my custom to call on Fiona in the afternoon. I very much wanted to hear the result of the interview and I must delay my visit until it was over.

I had seen Lady Constance set out after luncheon. She was walking the short distance from the house to the site. She looked brisk as she set out, as though she were going into battle. She carried a black umbrella. It was not raining at the time, but there could well be another shower or two.

I guessed the meeting would be brief.

I should hear all about it from Fiona. An hour passed while I sat at my window, waiting for the return of Lady Constance. I was surprised that she was so long. The walk would be about fifteen minutes there and fifteen back. An hour had passed. What could they be talking about for the rest of the time?

Could I have missed her return? That was hardly likely. It
might be that she had gone on somewhere else. That was not likely, but I supposed just possible.

It was half an hour later when I decided I would call on Fiona. Lady Constance must have left by now and if by some chance she had not done so, I should have to make some excuse and come away.

I put on my outdoor clothes with stout walking shoes and took an umbrella with me.

It was a somewhat bleak day and the countryside looked a little desolate. Everything was damp and there was rain in the air, although it was not actually falling. There was scarcely any wind and dark clouds loured low in the sky.

When I came near the site, it started to rain. I put up my umbrella and took the path which led up to the cottage.

It looked different. There were pieces of loose earth spattered about. They must have been disturbed by the heavy rains, I thought.

I glanced over at the baths and the mosaic floor. They looked just as usual. Then … too late … I saw the yawning gap before me. I tried to stop sharply, but as I did so, the ground beneath me gave way. I tripped forward, my umbrella flew away and I was falling … down into darkness.

I was stunned and bewildered for a few seconds before I realized what was happening. This was one of the spots Roderick had talked about. The soil was giving way beneath my feet. It was in my eyes. I shut them tightly for a few seconds. I tried to clutch at something, but the damp earth came away in my hands.

My fall was not rapid. It was impeded by the obstructing soil which gave way under my weight. And then … suddenly I was falling no longer. I opened my eyes. I could not see much, but the hole through which I had fallen was still there and it let in a little light.

I was standing on something hard. I felt a mild relief because I was no longer falling.

I was able to put my hand down and touch what I was standing
on. It
was smooth and felt like stone. Fragments of soil were still falling round me and onto the shelf on which I was standing. I listened to the sound of their fall. It was now intermittent and I saw that the hole through which I had fallen remained, so there was still a little light from above coming in.