Rustication (39 page)

What a dreadful story. My mother must have heard it at church and that is why she was so upset when Betsy came in that evening to say she had heard a child crying out on the marshes.

I rose and thanked the old lady. Just as I reached the door she stopped me and, looking very embarrassed, she said:
There is one other thing. I’ve heard something that might be of interest to you. It’s about your servant. The older one who briefly worked for your mother
.

Mrs Yass?

She nodded.
Since she left your mother’s service, she has been working for a family near Southampton. Very sadly, one of the young daughters has recently died. Very horribly
. She hesitated.
A girl who wasn’t married. Mrs Yass has been arrested and charged with . . . with
. . .

I touched her arm to show that she need not continue.

At the door I glanced back and when my eyes fell on the famous chair with its elegantly curved back and faded red satin seat, I remembered something.

Miss Bittlestone, what did you mean about my mother saying I would not be able to fetch the chair last Sunday?

Your mother said you would not be back from Thurchester before luncheon because you would walk home
.

She must have seen from my face that she had said something more significant than she realised.

I was so surprised that I actually sank onto that once-sacred piece of furniture. After a moment I managed to say:
I know you hate the sight of it so I’ll take the wretched thing now
.

We parted affectionately and I am sure she knew she would not see me again.

The policeman was attempting to hide behind a tree nearby as I left the cottage and must have been sorely puzzled to see me half dragging, half bearing a battered old chair. I did not carry it any great distance but flung it into the nearby marsh. It tilted over as it settled into the mud and then it began to sink. As if invisible arms were pulling it down, it twisted slowly as it disappeared beneath the surface.

I walked back by way of Monument Hill and climbed the tree again. With the light shining from the west, I was able to see nothing inside but bare brick walls and naked floorboards. The divan and carpets had been the creation of my fevered imagination.

How much I had failed to understand.

Mrs Yass: Now I understood why it was so urgent that Euphemia secure a husband soon. What the purpose was of the towels and the metal dishes I had seen when I arrived unexpectedly. What the revelation was that my mother had threatened me with and that I was too cowardly to hear.

By now I had made a circuit of the Battlefield. An idea had come floating up towards the surface of my mind. Flight. But if I were going to attempt it, I had to throw Wilson off the scent. Miss Bittlestone’s newspaper had suggested a means.

As I passed through the village I called in at the shop. Mrs Darnton glared at me from behind the counter. I asked her what newspapers she offered.
You know very well
, she said and indicated copies of
The Thurchester Intelligencer
lying nearby.

No
, I said.
That’s not what I want. Have you a paper that serves towns to the east of here?

She jerked her chin towards a pile of copies of
The Rye and Romney Mercury
and I seized one and turned to the shipping pages, holding the paper so that she would see what I was looking at. It confirmed that
The Caledonian Maid
would sail from Rye for Hong Kong on Saturday the 16
^th
.

Mrs Darnton had been peering over my shoulder and now asked sarcastically:
Are you planning a sea-voyage
?

I turned and, looking as guilty and furtive as I could, replaced the paper.

Aren’t you going to buy it?
she demanded.

Certainly not
, I said.
It’s a dreadful newspaper
. I left the shop and as I walked away I glanced back. The policeman was going in and I knew he would find Mrs Darnton eager to complain about what I had just said and done.

· · ·

Poor old tabby. I imagined her in that lonely cottage listening for a step outside after receiving that letter:
I shull come and visit you one nigth
.

½ past 5 o’clock.

As I entered the house I met Betsy in the hall and asked her to tell my mother that I was not hungry and would not dine with them. She looked at me in surprise.

I came up here.

I now see that it wasn’t in order to
spare my feelings
that my mother kept me away from Thurchester until she had moved out here. It wasn’t my father’s misdeeds that she wanted to hide from me but her own and my sister’s: the attempt to ensnare Davenant Burgoyne by even the most reckless means and then the calling of the Whitaker-Smiths’ bluff and the consequent sacrifice of Perceval.

I’m still reeling from Miss Bittlestone’s remark that my mother knew I would not be back from the ball in Thurchester until late in the day. That I would not be riding back in the carriage. She knew what Euphemia and Lyddiard were planning. So many other things that I had not wanted to notice fell only too neatly into place.

I know now when it was that my mother learned about the plot. It was the night before the ball when she made a feeble attempt to warn me—
Willoughby means you harm
—and I misunderstood her.

6 o’clock.

Betsy just knocked at the door and came in with a heel of bread and a piece of cheese. Even she deceived me and betrayed me to Euphemia. I ordered her to put the plate down and get out. She scuttled towards the door like a scared rabbit.

I could not stop myself. I said:
Why didn’t you tell me what was going on? That my sister’s lover had been coming here?

She turned. She said nothing but just stared at the ground in front of my feet with sulky resentfulness.

And why did you tell my sister what you and I did?

Then she muttered:
You’ve been avoiding me. Once you’d had your way, that’s all you wanted from me
.

I said:
It’s you who have been avoiding me. Well, pretty soon you won’t be seeing me at all and that should make you happy
.

To my astonishment she burst into tears and ran out of the room. Puzzling, but I haven’t the time to think about a little skivvy.

I understand what has been done to me but that helps me not at all. Nobody will believe my account of events. No jury, as Wilson made clear.

I almost wish I had not thrown away my lovely little friends—my only friends. That is the only sure means of escape that is open to me—illusory and temporary though it is.

Except that there is one other way to get myself out of this trap but it is fraught with peril and I don’t believe I have the courage to attempt it.

A ¼ past 6 o’clock.

A few minutes ago I heard a sound outside and peered out of my window. I saw Euphemia walking up the path and I assumed she was going to Lady Terrewest’s. I’m sure Lyddiard will not be at the house. After lying low on Sunday, he would have made his escape when darkness fell.

Now was my chance. I went into the parlour and I can’t forget my mother’s voice asking sharply:
What do you want, Richard? Are you going to try to get me to commit perjury again?

I said:
Your alibi won’t help me now
.
But don’t play the outraged innocent. Your lies have got me into this situation
.

How dare you address me in that tone
, she said with querulous dignity.

You told Miss Bittlestone that I would walk home on Sunday morning and you could only have said that if you knew that Euphemia would provoke an argument after the ball and then refuse to ride with me
.
What I wonder is this: When did you first begin to understand what she was plotting? You must have realised that she had some secret intention once she had abandoned the project for which Mrs Yass had been hired
.

She turned away. I said:
Yes, I know that the revelation you would have made to me if I hadn’t agreed to go away was that that woman was going to induce a miscarriage or something worse. That day Euphemia came back from Lady Terrewest’s house and had secured the tickets, when she said Mrs Yass was to be dismissed, I remember how you danced around the room. You knew she wouldn’t be risking Mrs Yass’s dangerous ministrations but you must have known that she was planning some sort of resolution to her situation. What did you think she was going to do? Did you think Euphemia had decided to marry a man like Lyddiard—penniless and illegitimate? You must have realised that they had worked out something that would rescue them from penury. But you convinced yourself that all would turn out as you hoped, as you always do
.

She kept her face turned away and said:
I’ve only ever tried to do what’s for the best
.

I said:
Did that include the business with Maud and her parents?

She flinched and I said:
Yes, I know about that now. I know that you sacrificed Perceval in order to preserve Euphemia’s chance of marrying Davenant Burgoyne. You didn’t believe his family would make use of him to bring shame on my father and force Davenant Burgoyne to throw Euphemia over. But they did and the poor boy suffered the consequences
.

She almost hissed:
That creature you brought into the family, that was his doing
.

I said:
You’re right that Bartlemew pandered to my father’s illicit appetite and then started to blackmail him. But he didn’t tempt him into anything he hadn’t been doing for years and I’m sure you knew about it
.

She was muttering my name as if in despair at my insanity.

When the letters began, I believe you didn’t know that they were writing them. Your shock at the first letter was authentic. And then eventually you began to suspect me. That night I came back from Thurchester you virtually charged me with being a deranged harasser of young women. And then the day before the ball you got up very early and went to Mrs Quance and read the letter that had a play on the word “lucubrations”. That confirmed your suspicions of me. That evening you accused me of having written those filthy letters and you insisted that I leave here the next day. Euphemia was horrified because that would have ruined her plan. So she talked to you in private and persuaded you that I was not responsible for those letters. And the only way she could have convinced you was by telling you who had written them. So she did, didn’t she? She told you everything
.

This is all fantasy, Richard
.

That must have been a shock. But there was a worse one coming. She told you that they intended to murder Davenant Burgoyne and incriminate me
.

She said:
You’re talking nonsense
. She turned away abruptly.

And you were so horrified that you drank some of the wine you kept hidden in your rooms and then you tried to warn me to run away. You said that Willoughby wanted to do me harm. The only Willoughby I knew of was Davenant Burgoyne. Euphemia interrupted us before you could explain. That was the moment when you had to make a choice between Euphemia and me. And you chose her. That’s why you sought me out at the ball and led me to where I would see her coming down the stairs in tears
.

There was no plot
. She sat covering her face with her hands and gently shaking her head.

I said:
I’m going to be charged with murder. If you don’t tell the authorities the truth you will be responsible
.

She was crying now and said:
How can you say these wicked things?

Euphemia suddenly entered the room. I was so intent upon what I was saying that I hadn’t heard the front-door. She was flushed and upset and I noticed a letter in her hand. My mother glanced at it and then exchanged a look with her daughter.

Euphemia said:
You’ve been bullying Mother
.

I’ve been asking her to admit to some things
.

How dare you!
she said.
You’re the one who has serious charges to answer
.

I said:
We don’t have to pretend any longer. There are only the three of us here and we all know the truth. I know how you and your paramour plotted to kill the man you both hated and incriminate me
.

My sister gazed at me impassively while she said:
Has he been raving like this to you, Mother?

Our mother didn’t look round.

I said:
What drove you to it? Did you really hate Davenant Burgoyne so much? Or did your new lover refuse to marry you unless you helped him to inherit? Even when you had the most pressing reason to enter the married state?

She frowned and I said:
Oh yes, I know what you planned with Mrs Yass. But then my telling you I had mistaken your new lover for your old one gave you an idea. You could make me the dupe for your crime. Your plan seems to have succeeded. But how can you be sure your lover will keep his side of the bargain?

Euphemia glanced down at the letter.

Is that what’s happened?
I asked.
Has he thrown you over already? And you can’t do anything. If you denounce him he will be executed but you will hang too
.

There was nothing to be gained by staying. I walked out.

· · ·

A ¼ to 8 o’clock.

My mother knows I’m innocent but is condemning me to death.

I am caught in a trap. Literally. There is a police-officer guarding my one way out. I am as good as dead.
I’ll have the warrant in my hand by the evening
.

Occurs to me that Betsy might be able to tell me about that letter Euphemia was holding. It just might offer me some hope. If the two plotters have fallen out, that can only benefit me. I want to talk to the girl anyway. She knows more than she has admitted. If I have to, I will force the truth out of her.