Midsummer at Eyre Hall: Book Three Eyre Hall Trilogy (18 page)

Max’s grand carriage was at the door. It
wasn’t grander than my mother’s carriage at Eyre Hall, but it made our cart
look quite pitiable. I preferred our life in Primrose Cottage, but sometimes I
did miss the luxuries of Eyre Hall, especially the new wing my mother had built
with two huge bathtubs, velvet curtains, Persian carpets, and all my pretty
dresses and shoes.

Max brought my cape and bonnet, which
looked coarse and simple next to his tweed jacket and silk shirt. I didn’t mind
being poor again; at least I wasn’t as poor as I had been with my previous
mother, when I had worked as a scarecrow before we moved to Eyre Hall. We never
had to worry about food or shoes, or toiletries, but it was nothing like the
grandeur of Eyre Hall. I wondered if Max didn’t mind being my friend, even
though I was much poorer than he was.

“These are for you, Mrs. Stewart.” He
held up a bunch of roses. “The thorns have been removed.”

My mother thanked him, saying how nice
they were.

“Mrs. Stewart, I’d like to invite Helen
to Manderley, well not to Manderley exactly. Manderley is big and cold. I’d
like to invite her to my summerhouse, by the beach. I’d like to show Helen my
books. My grandmother used to love reading. There are hundreds of books at Cove
Cottage. She loved poetry. We have Lord Tennyson’s
The Princess,
Mrs.
Barrett Browning’s
Sonnets
, Miss Rossetti’s
Ballads
and
The
Prince’s Progress
, Shakespeare’s
Sonnets,
and many other poetry
collections. There are also novels by Mr. Dickens, Mr. Thackeray, Miss Bronte,
and
Countess Kate
, Miss Yonge’s most popular novel. It was my
grandmother’s favourite. She can borrow them, or even keep them, all of them.
Nobody is going to read them anymore. I’d like Helen to have them.”

He spoke quickly and stuttered sometimes
when he was nervous, as he was today. He addressed my mother, but he kept
glancing at Michael, which was when he stuttered the most.

“That’s very kind of you, Max,” said my
mother. “Helen can borrow your books, but she can’t keep them, I’m afraid.”

Before he left, he thrust a large glass
jar at my mother. “Mrs. Stewart, this is for Helen.”

I smiled. I could see it was full of
pretty seashells and coloured pebbles from the beach, like the ones I had
dropped the day we met.

Michael watched and listened carefully,
but he didn’t say a word. I could tell he was vexed, but I wasn’t sure why. I
found out the reason when Max left and I asked him if I could go to Manderley
the following day.

 “No,” he said.

I was so surprised by his harsh
expression that I ran to my mother and buried my face in her dress.

“Perhaps another day, Helen,” she said.

“I don’t like that boy,” said Michael.
“He’s like his father. He thinks he can do whatever he wants, or he can buy
whatever or whoever he likes.”

“He seems a nice enough boy, Michael.
He’s shy and lonely, and I’m sure he misses his mother.”

“I don’t think Helen should spend time
alone with him.”

I turned furiously to Michael. “Why? Why
can’t I go to the summer house and see his books?”

He stared back, surprised that I had
raised my voice. I was shocked myself. My mother pushed me away gently. “Helen,
you will apologise to Michael and never speak to him in that tone again.”

My mother was going to take Michael’s
side. I knew it. He used to do what she wanted all the time at Eyre Hall, but
since we were in Cornwall, everything had changed; now she was always doing
what he wanted. I had to obey.

“I’m sorry, Michael. I didn’t mean to
shout. May I go please?”

 “No.”

“That’s not fair, Michael.” His brow was
knotted as he turned to look at me. “It’s not his fault you don’t like his
father.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

“I don’t like him either,” I said. “Max
also has to put up with his horrid father. He says his mother left because she
was unhappy. Can’t I be his friend?” I felt my eyes swell and hot tears rolled
down my cheeks. “It’s not his fault he’s got an awful father, and it’s not mine
either.” 

My mother left my side and pushed her
small fingers through Michael’s huge ones. “Let’s discuss this later, darling,”
she whispered. He tightened his hold and brought her hand to his lips. I couldn’t
hear what she whispered in his ear, but he smiled and walked towards me.

 “I’m sorry, Helen, if I upset you. Come
here.” He put his arms around me and pulled me to the couch with him. “Of
course it’s not your fault, or his.”

“Please let us be friends. He’ll be
going back to boarding school soon and I shan’t have anyone to talk to.”

Michael smoothed my hair and kissed the
top of my head. I put my arms around him. “Please, Michael.”

“You’re growing up so fast, Helen. I
worry about you. There are people…men…who may not be nice to you. You are so
young and innocent.”

“Max would never hurt me.”

Michael sighed. “He better be good to
you, or he’ll have me to answer to. I’ll whip him for every tear you cry.”

“Michael, darling, you’ll frighten Helen
if you say such things.”

“Can I have tea with him tomorrow,
please?”

“I’ll take you to the summer house after
teatime and collect you before the sun sets.”

It wasn’t very long, but I didn’t think
I should argue. It seemed like a small victory, for a start, and perhaps I
could stay longer in the future.

After dinner, when I went up to bed, I
couldn’t sleep. I was so excited because I would be going to Manderley the next
day and would see Max. I tried to read, but I couldn’t concentrate. I heard my
mother and Michael talking downstairs.

“Jane, you should speak to her, about
the dangers, about being a woman. It’ll happen soon.”

“Yes, she’s growing up. I don’t think it
will be long.”

I had noticed I was changing, feeling
restless and nervous at times, suddenly sad, suddenly happy, and I was growing
differently. They kept telling me I was growing up, but I only noticed I was
growing rounder, fatter, and hairier. I wasn’t sure if I liked it, but there
didn’t seem to be any going back.

“I don’t know how I’ll cope with that,
Jane. Helen, a young woman. It’s too soon.”

“She’s not twelve yet. I’m not ready
either.”

“I’ll kill him if he, or anyone else,
hurts her.”

“We’ll be careful, darling. It will be
all right. We’re safe here now.”

“I hope she finds a husband who will
love her half as much as I love you, Jane.”

I heard them kissing and whispering
endearments, then I heard the stairs creaking as they walked up to their
bedroom and the whispers continued, and then I heard my mother’s muffled sighs,
Michael’s groans, and later silence. It wasn’t the first time. It was their
usual ritual. I realised it must be why my mother was always happy when Michael
was near, and why Michael was always watching my mother and telling her how
pretty she looked.

I hadn’t noticed at Eyre Hall, where the
rooms were large and the walls thick, but Primrose Cottage was small, the rooms
were close, and the walls were thin. Far away from Eyre Hall, I learnt that
being in love was full of magical moments shared with someone special. Max made
me feel special. Could it be love I was feeling?

The next day was bright and sunny. I
convinced Michael to take me to the summerhouse before teatime. We sat on a
bench outside the cottage drinking tea and eating some biscuits that Mrs.
Benson had made.

Max told me he was glad I’d come early.

“I almost didn’t.”

“Why? Didn’t you want to come?”

“Yes I did. It was Michael who didn’t
want me to come.”

“Why? He doesn’t like me.” He looked so
sad. “Nobody likes me.”

“That’s not true,” I lied. “He does like
you, but he doesn’t like your father.”

“I agree with him on that.”

I nibbled a biscuit. “He said he’d whip
you if you made me cry.”

“He doesn’t scare me.”

I knew he was just pretending. I could
tell he was terrified of Michael. “He should. Most people are afraid of him.”

He grabbed my hand, spilling my tea.
“I’ll never make you cry, and I’d help him whip anyone who tried to hurt you!”

I giggled. “Don’t be silly! Nobody is
going to hurt me, not anymore.”

“Who has hurt you?”

“My brother. He calls me little imp, and
he sent me to a horrible boarding school. I hate him.”

“Where is he?”

“I’m not supposed to talk about him.
Eyre Hall seems so far away.”

“Where’s that?”

“Eyre Hall is where I used to live, in
Yorkshire. It’s a grand house. It belongs to my mother, well, it used to, now
my brother lives there and my mother says she never wants to go back.” 

“Do you want to go back?”

“No. I want to stay here with my mother
and Michael, and you. I like being your friend.”

“When my father dies, I’ll be alone,
completely alone.”

“Don’t say that. Why would your father
die?”

“We’ll all die.”

“Of course we will, but not yet. He’s
got grey hair and lots of wrinkles, but he’s not dying yet.”

“I wonder what it’s like to be dead.”

“You mustn’t talk like that! Let’s do
something cheerful. We can sit on the beach or play with the dogs. I used to
have two big dogs, now I haven’t got any. I miss Flossy and Keeper.”

After throwing the dogs some sticks, we
sat by the shore. I told Max about Lowood and my friend Catherine, and he told
me all about his horrid boarding school and strict teachers. It was easy to
talk to Max, and sometimes we didn’t need to say anything. We just tossed
pebbles into the sea and watched the ripples rise and fade.

Michael brought me there every afternoon
during the Easter holidays. The last day, when Michael collected me, Max
surprised me by asking if he could visit later in the evening.

Michael shot him an angry look, which
said, ‘Be careful, you’re pushing your luck.’

Max spoke quickly, as he did every time
Michael was around. “I’m leaving tomorrow and I shan’t be back for two months.
I’d like to say goodbye and bring a farewell gift for Helen, if I may, sir.
It’s a surprise.”

Michael nodded. “Not after eight.”

I rushed to the door when I heard Max’s
carriage and screamed when I saw two puppies toppling along the path towards
the door. I dropped to the ground and they jumped on my lap, licking my face.
Max was grinning. When I looked up, Michael was staring at him as sternly as
always while my mother sat down with me to play with the puppies too.

“They’re cocker spaniels, sir.” Max
spoke to Michael, who didn’t look happy about having pets at the cottage. “Just
like the queen’s. I had them brought from Bath.”

My mother and I cried our thanks as we
rolled on the grass with the puppies. I wondered why Michael was so annoyed. I
soon found out. When Max left and we went inside, he looked at me severely and
asked, “How did Max know you used to have dogs?”

“I told him about Keeper and Flossy.”

“Did you tell him about Eyre Hall?”

 “Helen,” said my mother, “remember we
told you not to tell anyone about Eyre Hall. Did you tell Max?”

“Yes, I did, but he promised he wouldn’t
tell anyone. Are you upset? Why do we still have to hide?”

They looked anxious but told me not to
worry. That evening when I went up to bed I heard them talking about it.

“Michael, do you think John will issue a
warrant for our arrest?”

“I don’t think so, but I don’t know,
Jane. We’re still outlaws, and he knows where we live and that Helen’s with
us.”

“Annette wrote and said she would speak
to him.”

“John is so full of hate; I doubt he’ll
listen to anyone.”

“Michael, I don’t want to go back to
Eyre Hall.”

“We’re still safe here, my love.”

I heard the riffling of clothes and
kisses. “I mean I never want to go back,” said my mother.

“Never, Jane? Are you sure?”

“I have been thinking about writing to
John. He can keep Eyre Hall and the estate. I want nothing to do with it.
Perhaps he’ll leave us alone if he keeps it all. We can buy a house here in
Cornwall, a small house. I don’t care for a grand mansion anymore. A cottage,
like this one, for you and me and Helen. Would you like that, Michael?”

“I like it here in Cornwall, too.”

“I have to speak to Mr. Smythe. I’m
entitled to my uncle’s shares in the winery. I could sell them.”

“I’ve been thinking about a long term
project here too, Jane. Blains’ uncle wants to sell the fishery. His wife died,
he’s too old to do it on his own, and his two daughters have married and moved
to Bath. He wants to sell up and move there too. It’s a small business, but it
has possibilities for expansion. There are plenty of men prepared to fish in
the shallow waters, and women can be trained to clean and cut and can the fish.
There are also tin mines and small factories, which can make reasonably priced
cans. Blains sold his pilchards in Cornwall, but we could expand the business.
The train to London guarantees daily transport, and Cornish pilchards are world
famous.”