The Black Swan (3 page)

Joel was talking of the possibilities of our spending a week or so at Marchlands when Parliament was in recess. I looked forward to that. The Greenhams sometimes stayed with us at Manorleigh so we saw a good deal of each other both in London and in the country.

My father was saying something about an African project and even Lady Greenham paused in her conversation with Celeste to listen.

“It’s coming up for discussion,” my father said. “It seems a good idea to send out a few members. They’ll be chosen with care from both parties. The government will want an unbiased view. Well, it is not really a matter of party politics.”

“What part of Africa is this?” asked Sir John.

“Buganda. There has been some trouble since Mwanga took over. When Mtesa was kabaka things ran more smoothly. With Mwanga it’s quite a different case. There were the martyrs, you remember. And now, of course, we are extending our sphere of influence.”

“Were the Germans in on this?” asked Sir John.

“There was the Anglo-German agreement, of course, but this was revoked recently, and that area embracing Buganda is to be under our influence. Hence the interest.”

“Are they going to send some Members of Parliament out there then?” I asked.

“It’s the usual procedure. To spy out the land and see how they are received … what impression they get. It’s a rich country. We want to make sure that the best is made of it.”

“Who are the martyrs of Buganda?” I wanted to know.

“They were African Roman Catholics,” Joel explained. “There were twenty-three of them. It happened a few years back … round about ‘87 … and a little before that, too. The first mission was accepted by Mtesa. It was when Mwanga came to power that the trouble started. He organized a massacre of missionaries. An English bishop, James Hannington, with his band of missionaries was murdered. So you see, we have to step in because it looks as though before long Buganda will become a British Protectorate.”

“And when is the jaunt going to take place?” Sir John asked my father.

“Fairly soon, I should think,” he replied. “It is very important that the right people should go. The situation will require a certain tact.” He was looked at Joel. “I think it would be very good for one’s reputation to be a member of the party.”

“Are you going?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, most definitely not. It’s a job for younger men. I’ve got too many irons in the fire here. So have others. It’s for a strong and healthy young man. The climate needs a bit of withstanding. It needs a man with a little prestige … he’ll have something to show his party and the people that he is capable of action.”

“You are looking at me,” said Joel.

“Well … it might be an idea.”

“It sounds exciting,” I said.

“Yes,” replied Joel slowly.

“Well, who knows?” went on my father. “No one has been chosen yet, but I should say you have a very good chance, Joel … with a nod in the right direction.”

“It would be a great experience.”

“As long as you don’t get eaten by the cannibals,” put in Lady Greenham. “I believe they have them in those outlandish places. And there are fevers and all sorts of unpleasant animals.”

Everyone laughed.

“It’s true,” added Lady Greenham. “And I think it’s about time to let these natives get on with their killing. Let them kill each other and that will be an end of them.”

“It was an English bishop whom they killed, Lady Greenham,” I said.

“Well, he should have stayed at home in England.”

“My dear,” said Sir John mildly, “where should we be today if everyone had followed your advice?”

“
We
should be sitting at this table!” she retorted. “And those who went would be massacred or eaten or die of fever.”

It was always Lady Greenham who had the last word. But I could see that Joel was rather excited by the prospect of going with the mission to Africa.

Then the talk turned to the burning question of the next election and speculation as to when it could be expected to take place. There seemed to be no doubt that Gladstone would be returned to power. The important point was with how big a majority.

Joel and I walked along by the Serpentine. We sometimes rode in Rotten Row while we were in London, but not very often. It was when we were at Marchlands or Manorleigh that we indulged our passion for horses. But we did enjoy walking in the parks—Green Park, St. James’s, Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. One could walk through one to the other and almost feel that one was in the country, only occasionally coming out into the traffic which was considerably muted when one was under the trees or strolling along the sylvan paths.

We sat by the Serpentine and watched the ducks.

I said to him, “Do you really think that you will go to Africa?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “If I were chosen I suppose I would.”

“My father thinks it would be good for your career.”

“He’s right. He always is.”

“I imagine he is putting your name forward.”

“His influence could count considerably.”

“Oh, Joel, how exciting it would be for you!”

“H’m. Your father has talked to me about it … and other things. He is very anxious that I should make a name in the House. It’s absurd that he himself has never had Cabinet rank.”

“There is so much chance in politics. Everything has to be right at a certain moment. Time and place … they matter tremendously. Opportunity comes and if a man can’t take it he probably won’t get another chance … and a politician has to wait for his party to be in power.”

“How right you are!”

“I don’t know the whole story but I do know he came near to having a high post in the Cabinet. There was even some talk of his following Mr. Gladstone as Prime Minister.”

“He might do that yet.”

“Who can say? Life is full of surprises.”

“He’s been good to me.”

“I’m glad of that, Joel. I know he’s fond of you.”

“And my family are fond of him and Celeste … and you.”

“It’s a wonderful friendship between the two families.”

“Lucie, you are very young yet.”

“You’re not exactly old.”

“I’m twenty-five. It’s quite a bit older than you.”

“It seems so at this stage, but when we get older it will seem less so.”

“That’s just it. I … I think they have plans in mind for us.”

“The families, you mean?”

He nodded. “They think it would be a good idea if you and I … one day … when you’re older … well, if we married.”

“Do you think it would be a good idea?”

“I can’t think of anything better. What of you?”

“It seems a good idea to me, too. I’m not seventeen yet, you know.”

“I thought … when you were eighteen …”

“Is this a sort of proposal? I never thought a proposal would be quite like this.”

“It doesn’t matter how it is … as long as it is acceptable to both parties.”

“There’s one thing, Joel. I haven’t lived yet.” That sounded so trite that I began to laugh. But I went on, “It’s true. Have you
lived,
Joel?” He did not speak, so I went on, “I don’t know much about people … about men, I mean. It’s as though we have been chosen for each other by our families. Is that the best way to choose a wife or a husband?”

“We have known each other for such a long time. There wouldn’t be any unpleasant surprises such as come to some people.”

“There wouldn’t be any surprises, pleasant or unpleasant.”

“Well, I think it’s a good idea.”

“So do I,” I said.

He turned to me suddenly and kissed me on the cheek.

“Shall we say we’re engaged?”

“Unofficially … tentatively. And, Joel, if you fall in love with someone else, you mustn’t hesitate to say so.”

“As if I would!”

“You never know. Passion strikes like lightning, so I’ve heard it said. You never know what direction it’s coming from.”

“I know I shall never love anyone as I do you.”

“How can you know yet? You haven’t been struck so far. Some exciting female may come along … someone you meet for the first time in your life … someone mysterious … irresistible.”

“You’re talking nonsense, Lucie.”

“Do you know, I rather hope I am.”

He took my arm and we snuggled close together.

Then he said, “We’re engaged.”

“Secretly,” I reminded him. “We don’t want the families to start planning yet. I have to grow up a little more and you’ve got to go to Buganda or whatever it is.”

“If I go … when I come back …”

“That would be a dramatic moment to announce it. You … the hero covered in glory.”

“Oh, Lucie! It’s only a little mission … half a dozen members going out on a fact-finding expedition. There’s nothing glorious about it.”

“You’ll come back on the way to becoming Prime Minister in the next twenty or thirty years. Prime Ministers are usually rather ancient, aren’t they? We’ll announce it then. That will be great fun. I know my father will be enormously pleased.”

“I hope he will.”

“You
know
he will. You’re his protégé. He likes to watch your progress. I believe he thinks that if he can’t be Prime Minister he’ll make you one in his place. He’ll surely do it for his daughter’s husband, so you had better make sure that you marry me.”

“I’m always hoping that I come up to his expectations.”

“In future there will be only one person whose expectations have to concern you … and I am to be that one. All the same, I know how you feel about my father. He is a wonderful man and although he and I are the greatest friends, I often feel I don’t fully understand him. That makes him exciting.”

“I think he is a wonderful man too,” said Joel.

We walked home rather soberly.

We were engaged. Our marriage was predestined. It would undoubtedly have the approval of the families.

Events were moving along in a very comfortable manner.

There was news from Australia. Leah wrote to Celeste and Belinda to me. The letters arrived at breakfast as usual and Celeste showed me what Leah had written.

It was a very sad letter. She believed she was dying. There was nothing that could be done for her. She was very frail and weak now, too much so to be able to undertake a long voyage.

Celeste’s letter had given her great comfort and she had made all the arrangements. She was greatly relieved to know that when she had gone there would be a home for Belinda in England, and she was glad that God had given her a little time to arrange this and had not struck her down too suddenly.

The last years of her life had been the happiest she had ever known. Tom had been good to her and to Belinda, and they had had a wonderful life together. Although he had lost the bulk of his fortune he had been able to leave them a little money. That would go to Belinda, so she would not be penniless.

“It is just that I want her to have a home,” she wrote. “And I am happy now that I know she can come back to that of her childhood. Life has been strange for me. I suppose it is, when one does unconventional things. But now that I know she can come I feel at peace.”

There were tears in Celeste’s eyes when she read this letter.

“I am so pleased that Benedict agreed to her coming,” she said. “Poor Leah. She was always such a good soul. What a pity she could not have gone on being happy for longer.”

Belinda’s letter brought memories of her back to me.

“Dear Lucie,” she wrote,

I know my mother has written to you and that she is very ill. In time I am to come to England. I remember so much of my life there … and particularly you. Do you remember me?

Oh yes, Belinda, I thought, I shall never forget you.

The terrible things I used to do! I wonder you didn’t hate me. I believe you did sometimes … but not really, Lucie. We were like sisters in a way, weren’t we? I remember so much. The time I dressed up in your mother’s clothes and pretended I’d come back from the grave. I really frightened you as well as Celeste. But don’t hold it against me. I may be not entirely a reformed character now, but at least I am now old enough not to do such senseless things.

I’m very sad about my mother. It was awful when Tom died. It was so sudden. He was well and then he had this stroke. It was hard to believe … and then he wasn’t there anymore.

That was when everything changed here and my mother became ill. She is really very ill. I feel a little scared. I’m here in this country and somehow I feel I don’t belong here … not without Tom and my mother. I really feel I belong at Manorleigh and in London … with you, Lucie. I wonder if I shall see you soon. I know it is what I want more than anything … if I lose my mother.

With my love and memories,

Belinda

Memories indeed. I could see her in my mother’s clothes which she had taken from the locked room, sitting on the haunted seat in the garden where ghosts had been said to gather long ago. I saw her, too, swearing that Pedrek Cartwright had attempted to molest her when she did not want him to marry Rebecca. I could see her when we were very young, dancing round me with a lighted candle in her hand, which suddenly sent the flames running up my dress. I could see Jenny Stubbs, who had loved me better than her own life, dashing to me, smothering the flames with her own body … giving her life that mine might be preserved.

Yes, Belinda, I thought, you have brought back memories to me.

I talked of Belinda to Celeste and to my father.

“Poor, poor Leah,” said Celeste. “I wonder if there is any hope of her recovering. She does not say what is wrong.”

“No. But she is too ill to travel. I am sure that if she were well enough she would bring Belinda to us.”

“All we can do,” said my father, “is to wait and see what happens. In any case we have offered her a home here. It is all we can do.”

So it was left at that.

Soon after that, there was talk of an election and that, as usual, dominated everything else.

The mission to Buganda would naturally have to be postponed until after we knew what government would be in power.

“I have to make sure that I hold my seat before it is decided whether I shall be a member of the mission,” said Joel.