The Changeling (44 page)

I was filled with pity and took a step towards her, but Benedict signed to me to stand back.

He said gently: “I don’t blame you, Belinda. I never have. I want to be good friends with you. Let’s try, shall we?”

She stopped crying and looked at him.

“We’ll help each other. I’ll help you and you’ll help me. Your mother would be very unhappy if she knew we were bad friends.”

She was silent. He went to her and knelt down beside her.

He said: “Tell me the truth. Tell me everything. You won’t be blamed for I am sure you had a reason for what you did. You love Rebecca, don’t you?”

She nodded vigorously.

“You don’t want her to be unhappy, do you?”

She shook her head. Then she said: “It was because … because …”

“Yes, yes?”

“It was for her.”

“For Rebecca?”

She nodded again. “She was going to marry him. I didn’t want her to. I wanted her to marry Oliver. We could all have lived together. It would have been nicer for her …”

“I see. So you did it because you thought you knew what was best for Rebecca? You are not very old, you know, to judge for other people.”

“I knew it would be lovely if we could all live together. What … what are you going to do to me?”

I went to her then and took her hands in mine.

“Do you hate me?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“He’s gone away, hasn’t he? He’s gone to Australia.”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t want him to. You do hate me.”

“No. I understand now. But it was a wicked thing to do. You must never do anything like that again.”

“It was only a game.”

“A game which has hurt a lot of people.”

“But I did it for you.”

“You knew you were wrong though, didn’t you?”

She started to cry again.

“But,” I went on, “you’ll feel better now you have told us. It’s always good to confess. Now you can start again.”

“I’m sorry, Rebecca. Oliver would have been fun to have with us and he would have married you. We don’t see him now.”

“But there is Mr. Marner. You like him, don’t you?”

“But he’ll go back to Australia.”

“Perhaps not for a little while.” I turned to Benedict. “I think I should take her back to Leah. I’ll tell Leah what’s happened.”

She suddenly flung her arms round my neck. “I did it for you as well,” she said.

“As well as for yourself. I know.”

“And Lucie, too. She liked him.”

“I understand. Now we are going to forget all about it. But promise me you won’t ever do anything like that again.”

She shook her head and clung to me.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go now.”

She did not look at Benedict as I led her out. I left her with Leah.

“There has been a bit of an upset,” I said. “I think she needs to be alone with you. She will tell you about it. I will later. But just now … soothe her, Leah.”

Leah always seemed to understand. She took Belinda in her arms.

I went back to Benedict’s study. He was waiting for me.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“She’s a strange child. I know she is my daughter but she bears no resemblance to her mother or to me. She is like a changeling. I have watched them from my study window sometimes. I find Lucie more appealing. Belinda bears me a grudge.”

“You have ignored her.”

“I know. I couldn’t forget. If she had been a different child …”

“It was a terrible thing to do … to let a child feel she has cause her mother’s death. I know it is not the first time this sort of thing has happened, but it should never be.”

“I know. I am to blame. But there is something about her which … in a way repels. Celeste told me that she took your mother’s clothes and played the ghost. It shows a strange quirk in her nature.”

“It is because you have aroused this feeling of guilt in her.”

“I have done so much that is wrong. But it was so premeditated. She stole the key from Mrs. Emery’s drawer to get the clothes … it was not a matter of dressing up on the spur of the moment. It was
planned.
She knew it would cause distress and I guessed—though it was only a surmise—that this was another of her well-thought-out schemes. She is devious.”

“She is clever to deceive us all.”

“You were too ready to be deceived.”

“It is because of her youth. I would never have thought she knew about that long-ago murder.”

“Foolish people talk to her. There was that maid. You can imagine her version. Then the little girl whose father had been in the mine accident. She would be interested in stories of disaster … legends … bells at the pool. The salacious Madge would corrupt the mind of the young. They would not fully understand, but they would know enough to give a girl like Belinda the material she needed for her game.”

“I feel a little lightheaded.”

“You see why I wanted you to get this letter off to Pedrek? I did not want you to write to him later and say you had discovered the truth. I wanted that letter to go first. I wanted you to show your faith in him … the depth of your feelings …”

“I don’t know what to say to you. I can’t help feeling happy although …”

“Well, at least there is a little brightness now. I feel happier too. Believe me, it grieved me to see you so sad.”

He took my hands and gripped them hard.

“I don’t know what to say to you,” I began.

“Then say nothing. We’ll talk … we’ll talk a lot … later.”

F
EELINGS OF ELATION MINGLED
oddly with a terrible apprehension. This was a house of shadows with a menacing cloud hanging over it. And so it would remain until Celeste was found. But there was something miraculous in my new relationship with my stepfather, and the manner in which he had dealt with my unhappiness filled me with tender admiration for him.

It seemed that he, who had always before been on the fringe of my life, had now walked into it and swept aside all obstacles to my happiness. He had always given an impression of power, and how astute he was for as soon as he was aware of what had happened, he had guessed at the truth and exposed it in a masterly fashion.

I wished that I could do something for him.

I wrote to Pedrek telling him what had happened, making sure, as Benedict would have advised me, that he knew I had written my previous letter before the revelations.

Then I wrote to my grandparents, the Pencarrons and Morwenna and Justin. I told them all that I had already written to Pedrek some days before the truth was known, that I believed in him and hoped he would forgive me for doubting him even for a short time; and I was waiting to hear from him that his feelings towards me had not changed.

I knew what joy that would bring them all. We could now be together in harmony just as we had been in the past.

I asked them all not to think too hardly of Belinda. She was only a child and it had been a great tragedy for her that she had lost her mother before she could know her. We must all try to understand that.

“I have talked to Benedict,” I wrote. “And he wants to do everything he can to make a harmonious family life for us all. At the moment, of course, he is terribly worried and unhappy with this fearful mystery hanging over us. But I am convinced that the truth will come out soon.”

I wondered how long it would take for my letter to reach Pedrek and for him to reply. It was a long way for a letter to go—to the other side of the world.

Meanwhile it was the waiting period. I could not believe that Pedrek would not come back to me. But then he would not have believed I could think him guilty of such a monstrous crime. He must have been bitterly and deeply wounded. Did that sort of thing leave a scar forever?

My grandparents wrote of their delight. How understanding they were! They spared a little sympathy for Belinda in spite of the havoc she had wrought in our lives.

“We must remember that she is only a child,” wrote my grandmother, “and I suppose she did it for your happiness as well as her own. She, in her simple innocence, thought she could play God and direct your lives. At what a cost to poor Pedrek! Let us hope that he will soon come home and that you will be happy together.”

And it was Benedict who had done this. But for him I should not have written that letter. Only he could have made Belinda confess the truth.

How I wished that I could help him!

For some time I had felt a twinge of guilt because I had never said anything about that occasion when I had seen Celeste and Oliver Gerson together at The Hanging Judge. Was it of any significance?

How could I know? But in a case like this any small detail could be of importance. Who knew which were the key pieces to fit into the puzzle to complete the picture?

I could not bring myself to speak to him of Oliver Gerson. He hated the man and would not have him in the house. Understandably since he had tried to blackmail him. As for Oliver Gerson, the thought had occurred to me that he might be responsible for some of the pieces which had appeared in the press. I could well imagine his revelling in supplying damning information. I was sure he was delighted to see Benedict in trouble.

I could not believe that Celeste was dead. I awoke one morning. I had been dreaming, but it was as though a revelation had come to me. In my dream I had seen Oliver Gerson, with a malicious expression on his face. I heard his voice: “Don’t think I shall let this pass.”

I had the firm conviction that Oliver Gerson could tell us something.

He would never help Benedict, but what of me? He had been courteous and charming to me always. Of course, he had thought I was a good proposition. He had planned to marry the stepdaughter and so acquire a share in the business. That had been his motive. Most girls would have been impressed by him and very likely delighted that he had planned to marry them.

Was he so bad? Benedict had married his first wife for the goldmine she brought him. When one grew up one realized that people’s characters were made up of many facets.

Oliver Gerson had been so good to the children, amusing them, playing their games. They had both adored him—Lucie as well as Belinda—but Belinda was more fierce in her emotions. She loved with passion and hated with venom. Therefore while to Lucie he had been Nice Mr. Gerson, to Belinda he had been godlike.

If I could see him now … How? I did not know where he lived. He would, of course, still be connected with the clubs. His had been an important post there. He had been Benedict’s right-hand man; and now that Benedict was no longer working for them, he would still be there with the new owners.

I had heard the names of some of them: The Green Light, The Yellow Canary, Charade and The Devil’s Crown, but that last was the one Benedict had not acquired.

I could find out where the clubs were situated. I knew they were all in the west end of London. It would not be very difficult; and as soon as the idea occurred to me I decided to put it into practice.

I felt so much happier than I had for a long time. I was sure I should be hearing from Pedrek soon … and I owed this to Benedict. He was the one who had made me do the right thing and then set about to prove that it was not only the best for me but the truth. He had given me a chance to be happy again, and I longed to do the same for him.

Just suppose Oliver Gerson knew where Celeste was. It even occurred to me that she might have run off with him. Perhaps they had eloped together to some other country. I could try to find out. Some of his associates at the clubs might know.

I would go to London, I would make the excuse that I wanted to be with Morwenna who was so pleased that we had discovered the truth and that her son was exonerated.

Normally I should have been beset by pleas from the children to come with me. Lucie wanted to, but I told her I had a great deal to do and I should not be away for long. Belinda showed no desire to accompany me. She had been very subdued since her confession.

Leah told me that I need have no qualms about leaving the children at this difficult time. Belinda was clearly relieved that the truth had been revealed. “She had it on her mind, Miss Rebecca,” said Leah, and added, determined to protect her darling: “She meant well.”

“Yes,” I replied, “the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.”

“Poor mite. It’s her father. That hurt her a lot, you know. And he was the one who got it out of her. She’s terrified of him.”

“On this occasion it was a good thing that she was.”

“Don’t you worry, Miss Rebecca. I’ll look after her when you’ve gone.”

“I know you will, Leah.”

She smiled and I remembered Mrs. Emery’s words when she had described the change in her. She no longer looked as though she were going to a funeral. Poor Leah! But she certainly did seem happier. What an effect parental attitudes had on children. There was Belinda—as she was because she resented her father’s attitude towards her. And Leah? What had life been like in that shiningly clean cottage presided over by the self-righteous Mrs. Polhenny? No wonder she was secretive … shut in on herself.

But she seemed to be growing away from that a little now. There was truly a new softness in her face for the whole world and not just for Belinda.

Morwenna was delighted when she heard I was to stay with them for a week or so. So in due course I left Manorleigh for London.

I was warmly welcomed by both Pedrek’s parents, and all the coldness which had existed between us for the last months was swept away.

Morwenna kissed me and said: “Thank you for your letter … particularly the one you sent to Pedrek … before …”

I smiled. What a lot I owed to Benedict.

“I feel sure he will be home soon,” said Morwenna.

Justin came out to greet me. It was like a happy reunion. We talked about Pedrek for practically the whole of the first evening. He was finding Australia interesting but Morwenna fancied he was homesick for Cornwall.

“My father is so delighted that he will be coming home soon,” she added.

“Has he said he is coming home?”

“There has not been time to hear yet, but he will … of course he will.”

I prayed he would and that he would forgive me for my doubts. I did have some dark moments when I wondered whether I had wounded him too deeply that even if the wounds healed the scars would show.