Our Eternal Curse I (22 page)

Robert had spent his first four
years of life completely cocooned from the real world.  He never left the
grounds of Pishiobury Park for any length of time and had no interest in a world
outside of his wonderful playground.  Every day, from the time he was old
enough to walk in the grounds by himself, Robert communed with nature.  Summer
and winter he ran to the spinney every day to look at the birds as they nested
or fed their young in the trees and undergrowth.

Invariably two of his father’s
favorite gun dogs Louis and Marie ran in huge circles around him.  If they
strayed too far a short whistle always brought them back panting and looking to
him for the approval he was happy to give.  The shining black Labradors were
his best friends but he never became emotionally close to the dogs named in
honor of the guillotined King and Queen of France because his instincts told
him to beware of attachments to living things.

The river Stort passed through
the estate and meandered in a sweeping loop behind the great house.  Robert lay
on its grass covered banks for endless hours watching big brown fish stalking
insects which merely dented the surface above them.  He empathized with these
insignificant little creatures because an unknown assailant could come crashing
through a flimsy membrane to end their lives at any moment and that was the
only way he could describe how he felt about his own fragile existence.

In the heat of the summer Robert
watched busy spiders weave their webs and a wide variety of insects glide
innocently into them.  Birds powered effortlessly through the warm air picking
off tiny black dots while deer cared for their young on the woodlands below.

He knew the location of every
rabbit burrow and badger set.  Robert was as one with his natural world and
while wandering aimlessly for endless periods of time his anxiety became
tolerable.  He simply felt safer while alone in this environment without the
complexities of human interaction.

Robert had no reason to fear
people even the staff expressed the love they felt for their benevolent
master’s through him.  No one had even so much as raised their voice to him but
a real fear of people existed nonetheless.  He was a child showered with
positive emotions, his country home was without doubt one of the most loving
and secure environments that any child could grow up in, yet Nanny Parks knew
something was not as it should be.  The wonderfully handsome and deeply
intelligent boy had a fragile quality about him and for absolutely no
discernible reason he seemed constantly afraid.

In keeping with her belief that
Robert needed more time to develop his character Miss Parks recommended that he
be enrolled at the village school near Pishiobury when he reached the age of
five.  This broke with tradition because Pishiobury children had been boarding
at the same remote preparatory school for generations.  Robert would still be
leaving for the Leys school in Cambridge as soon as he was eight years old of
course but, until then, Nanny wanted him to enjoy his protected childhood at
home for as long as possible.

Robert always disliked traveling
in his father’s coach because doing so stirred irrational feelings of drawing
unwanted attention to himself.  As bad luck would have it, Robert’s first coach
trip to school coincided with four seemingly unrelated events that brought his
latent anxiety cascading to the surface.

The first event was caused by an
insignificant rut just deep enough to break the axle of the little cart which
had reliably trundled into the village of Sawbridgeworth every morning at dawn
for far too many years to remember.  Stuck half way along its four-mile run,
the little cart’s cargo of correspondence, newspapers and sundry goods was stranded
and had to be rescued.

The second event was Robert’s
coach stopping to see what had happened to the cart.  The third when his driver
offered to deliver the cargo.  The fourth when a newspaper happened to be
placed on the top of the little pile of cargo transferred from the cart to the
seat across from Robert.

The front page of the
London
Times
was devoted to a report of the recent French invasion of Venice. 
This news was shocking enough, but it was the portrait of the young French
General Napoleon Bonaparte that sent Robert into spasms of inexplicable fear
and panic just moments before the coach drew to a halt outside his new school.

Poor Nanny was horrified by the
dreadful appearance of her young charge at the end of his first day at
Spellbrook School.  His demeanor had changed so completely within the six hours
between sending him to school in the morning and welcoming him home in the
afternoon.  Nanny thought something significant must have happened during the
day.  Lord and Lady Pishiobury were also shocked but putting on a brave face
they assured her that Robert was simply suffering from first day melancholy.

Like his parents, Nanny wanted
to believe that it was just a new environment but she felt sure something far
more serious was influencing her beloved boy, so the next morning Nanny Parks
confronted the elderly Head Mistress of the small village school while Robert
went to his class and was entirely dissatisfied with Miss Wagstaff’s
explanation:

 “
He is a charming, bright young boy but he has no
inner resilience.”

“
What may I ask is inner resilience?”  Miss Parks
was not good at accepting criticism when it came to Robert and this sounded a
lot like criticism.

“
It is something I have observed during my many
years as an educator,” replied Miss Wagstaff.  “I have spent a good deal of my
professional career working in the poorer areas of London and later in the
workhouses of the industrial cities in the north of England.  In my experience
children who are born and brought up in hardship or are maltreated from an
early age often suffer with this mental disorder.”

“
Young Robert has been raised in the most nurturing
of environments!”  Miss Parks tone was one of complete indignation and
disbelief.  “Are you suggesting that he has been in some way abused or
neglected?”

“
I am suggesting no such thing,” replied Miss
Wagstaff defensively.  “I am responding to your question with complete
frankness.  I am not speculating upon the cause of the boy’s problem.”

“
I do not believe that Lord and Lady Pishiobury will
wish their son to remain in your school a moment longer.  Please have Robert
brought to my carriage.  I will be taking him home immediately!”

This was a very delicate
situation for Miss Wagstaff because the school existed simply because Lord
Pishiobury provided funds.  It was by no means the norm for children of estate
workers and farm laborers to receive education and she did not want to place
the future of her school in jeopardy, but she was compelled to tell the truth.

When Robert eventually arrived
at the coach escorted by his teacher Mrs Putnham, he was in a shocking state. 
The thirty minutes he spent in the classroom had seen him fall into a terrible
decline.  His face was white as snow and covered in sweat.  He felt hot to the
touch but his body shivered as though freezing cold.

Without concern for his lack of
status the coachman picked the boy up and placed him on one of the studded
leather-bench seats within his carriage.  He then climbed the step to his
driving position to retrieve the tartan blanket he used to keep his legs warm
on cold days.  With the red and green cover under his arm he moved passed the
overweight teacher with a look of disgust on his face.  The coach driver had
been at Pishiobury since before Robert’s birth. He had followed the boy’s
progress with great interest and, like all of the staff, he had grown to love
the sensitive lad while playing with him over the years and the anger he felt
for these apparently evil women showed clearly on his face.

Miss Parks thanked him for the
rug, covered the distraught little boy then turning back to face Miss Putnham
with an accusing look in her eyes.  With deep concern in her voice she asked, 
“What have you done?”

Interjecting to save her member
of staff, Miss Wagstaff answered.  “We have done nothing!  Whatever Robert
suffers from was within him well before he came to our school.”

Although Miss Wagstaff believed
her words totally she was confused by the love being displayed by the driver
and the boy’s Nanny.  She had been convinced that the child’s behavior was as a
consequence of maltreatment but the open affection being shown by his staff
baffled her.  Miss Wagstaff had seen many wealthy children display insecurities
and in her experience they always came from families who treated both their children
and staff disrespectfully.  It was always obvious which families behaved in
this way because the staff treated their master’s offspring in a vengeful
manner but this young boy’s troubles were clearly born of a different source
than his environment.

Turning her back Miss Parks
climbed aboard.  She wanted nothing more to do with the horrible women standing
outside her evil little school.  Banging on the ceiling of the carriage she
called, “Take us home as fast as you can go!”

The two very shocked teachers
watched the coach pass through the school gates.  Both agreed that in all their
years in the classroom they had never seen such a fragile child.  The fact that
he was clearly intelligent, appeared so perfectly formed and came from a secure
environment had them completely baffled.

Lady Pishiobury sat at a table
on the front lawn with her head cook planning menus for the coming season. 
Both were lost in total concentration because many dignitaries even royalty
attended dinners and balls at Pishiobury and the menus had to be absolutely
perfect.

Reveling in the interaction with
her employer, and the warm sun on her back, Cook’s thoughts of quail, pheasant,
roast swan, fresh Scottish salmon and venison were distracted by the sound of
carriage wheels moving rapidly along the gravel driveway.  Looking up, Cook
wondering why her husband wasn’t returning his beloved vehicle to the stables
at the back of the house as he usually did after a run to town.

“
About the dinner party for fifty guests during the
week before the Cambridge end of term balls?”  said Lady Pishiobury bringing
Cook’s attention back to the menus.

Cook was about to say that she
would not let her Ladyship down when the carriage pulled to a halt in front of
the grand stairway and her employer’s attention was completely lost.  Climbing
out of the carriage was a distraught Nanny with an even more distraught Robert
in her arms.

Lady Pishiobury stood with a
look of deep concern on her face and the pain of losing her sister returned to
her thoughts.

“
Whatever has happened?”  There was deep pain in her
voice.

Robert ran to the source of the
loving words and buried his sobbing head in his mother’s huge petticoats.

“
Whatever has happened?”  she asked looking up at
Nanny Parks.

“
I have decided to bring Robert home in light of
what happened at that terrible school, my Lady.”  Nanny’s tone was indignant. 
“That horrible woman said he has been maltreated!  Can you imagine?  Our little
Robert?  Poorly treated?  I have never been more outraged in my life!”

“
Poorly treated?  What could she possibly mean? 
Robert has never so much as been shouted at let alone maltreated?”

Lady Pishiobury attempted to
lower herself to hold the distraught boy and kiss the top of his head in his
favorite way but he clung to her as though his life depended on it.  She could
feel the circulation in her legs being stifled as she said reassuringly:  “You
are safe now my darling, please loosen your grip.”

Robert could not be convinced
with words alone so Nanny tried gently prying his fingers from one another but
he simply applied even more pressure.  Cook had to help because the little
white knuckles reconnected as fast as they could be separated.  When his
powerful little arms were eventually parted Lady Pishiobury dropped to her knees
to hug him as she asked in a soothing voice, “What has frightened you so my
darling?”  Her beautiful, lemon-yellow dress absorbed brown and green moisture
from the dew-covered lawn like blotting paper.  The discoloration which worked
its way between the silk fibers of the exquisite garment would have horrified
her just seconds before but, at this moment, polite behavior meant absolutely
nothing; she could think only of the pain that had taken possession of her
beloved offspring as she asked her coach driver to carry Robert to his room.

When Lord Pishiobury arrived
home with his shooting party he was completely unaware of the change that had
so suddenly befallen his household.  The first indication of any problem was
the unusual concern in Pinker’s voice as he walked out to meet him. 
Maintaining the dignity befitting his status, the butler hid his anxiety behind
small talk, “Good afternoon my Lord, I trust that you had a good day with the
muskets.”

“
Yes, thank you Pinker, marvelous shoot, we have all
bagged enough game for a feast.”  Pausing for a moment he noticed the change in
his Butler and said, “May I ask if there is something wrong Pinker?”

“
May I have a private word with you my Lord, it is a
matter of some delicacy.”

Pinker felt very conscious of
the fact that he was being melodramatic but Lady Pishiobury had insisted that
her husband be told at the very moment of his return because he loved Robert as
much as anyone.

The other guests were all men of
power and status who understood matters of importance.  Respecting Lord
Pishiobury’s need for privacy they all walked to the food-laden tables standing
on the perfectly groomed lawn at the side of the house.  The footmen who
surrounded the white cloth covered trestles poured cold drinks from the silver
decanters for the parched hunting party who were all ready for a libation after
a full morning spent bagging hundreds of pheasants.

“
What is it Pinker? Has something happened to Lady
Pishiobury?”

“
Gladly, no my Lord.”

‘
Then what is it?  Be a good fellow and spit it
out.’

His Lordship’s relief was felt
by Pinker who genuinely regretted causing his master to fret but by not fully
considering his next words made things even worse.  “It is your son Robert, my
Lord.”

Before Pinker was able to say
any more Lord Pishiobury was running towards the house.  Sprinting up the
marble stairs and through the open doors he gave the cleaning staff a terrible
start.  Without looking at his bewildered maids he took the stairs to the first
floor two at a time.  After very nearly colliding with another young housemaid
in the long corridor, Lord Pishiobury found the bedroom of the son who meant
everything to him.  Pausing outside the doorway before entering, he prepared
himself for the worst.

The first thing Lord Pishiobury
saw as he entered the room was his wife sitting on his son’s bed dressed in a
striking yellow dress covered in mud and holding him motionless in her arms. 
His heart seemed to stop for one brief moment as he spoke.  “What has
happened?” The words emerged in an uncontrolled sob.

Both Lady Pishiobury and Miss
Parks turned to look at him with total surprise on their faces.  His wife
understood immediately what the sound of his voice meant.  “Did Pinker not
explain darling?”

“
What has happened?”

“
Robert has had a terrible experience at school.”

“
What kind of experience?  Is our son hurt in any
way?”

“
No, he is just upset.”

“
Upset!  Upset?”  He concern was beginning to shift
towards anger.

“
Yes, Robert was upset by the other children at
school.”  As she said the words, Lady Pishiobury realized how pathetic the
whole thing sounded and his temper when it came had not been entirely
unexpected, but its ferocity took her completely by surprise.

“
I believed my son to be dead or at best maimed! 
And you tell me that he is upset by other children on his first day at school!”

“
Second day darling.”  Lady Pishiobury wished she
could take these pathetic words back.

“
What the hell difference does that make?  The point
is I have been scared half out of my wits because the boy had a tiff, at his
school no less.”

“
A little more than a tiff my dear, he is very
upset.”

Turning to leave Lord Pishiobury
snapped, “I have important guests to attend to, I have no more time for this
nonsense!”

Watching through his tears
Robert was petrified, he had never seen his father so angry and it concerned
him greatly.  He had not meant to cause such trouble but the sudden company of
other children left him feeling so completely and uncontrollably afraid.  His
instincts told him that everyone in the classroom intended to do him harm. 
Every time they had looked his way Robert felt their connivance and became
gripped with intolerable terror.  The truth was they were doing nothing of the
kind.  The children had all welcomed him but a strange lack of belief in himself
manifested itself from the very moment he entered the playground on the morning
of his first day.

Being cocooned on the estate
with so much love had kept Robert on an even keel but as soon as he entered a
less nurturing environment his fragile confidence crumbled.  The inevitable
confrontation with one of the more aggressive boys on the morning of his second
day dropped him into what felt like a deep shaft of fear that he had no way of
coping with.

Coming home should have revived
him. However, Robert was now very shocked and saddened because his overreacting
mind feared that the father, who was the major part of his juvenile stability,
would probably leave home because of him and he found himself falling deeper
into his exaggerated and illogical despair.

As he walked back to his guests
Lord Pishiobury realized that he had completely blown things out of all
proportion.  He wondered why he had so completely lost his temper and concluded
that it was because of the shock of believing that he had lost his only son. 
I
must apologize to Emilia
he thought as he walked,
she will be terribly
upset by my outburst.

If he had turned on his heels
and walked back to Robert’s room to deliver the apology immediately Robert may
have been able to arrest his decline.  As it was, he lay sobbing in the absurd
belief that he had destroyed his happy home.  His view of the world had changed
so completely in only two days and he now saw himself as the cause of all past
and future problems.

Later that day Lord Pishiobury
walked into his wife’s dressing room just as her handmaid placed a wonderful
string of diamonds around her neck.  “Please allow me to do that,” he said as
he took the jewel encrusted adornment from the maid.

Lady Pishiobury accepted her
husband’s apology as soon as he asked her forgiveness.  The words came easily
to her lips as the maid walked from the dressing room.  She knew her husband
was not a man who wished to cause his wife any angst.  He had never enjoyed
making anyone uncomfortable, unlike a number of their powerful guests who
seemed to find pleasure in baiting defenseless people.

“
What has caused this change in our son my dear?” 
he asked with concern in his voice.

Answering honestly she witnessed
her husband’s anger for the second time in the same day.  “Nanny tells me that
the Head Mistress of the school, Miss Wagstaff, believes he has been
maltreated.”

“
She said what?”  The words burst from him.  Fair
treatment of his son, his wife and his staff were his major source of pride. 
If a man had even mentioned in passing that he had poorly treated any of them
he would have slapped his face and insisted upon a duel to the death.