Another Life

by Sara MacDonald

  She got up again and removed some of the rags from her drawer and placed them under articles of clothing in a separate drawer. She left the room and went down the wide staircase and out of the open front door. She walked across the lawn, past the British flag which flapped like washing in the wind, and stood looking out towards Falmouth docks.

  She curved her arms round her stomach and closed her eyes, and it seemed to her that she felt a faint answering beat, and despite her fear her heart swelled with the thought of Tom’s child lying within her. Part of him; part of her.

  I am glad of the cooler weather, but my heart is not in the figurehead of the pirate I am carving. Isabella moves everywhere with me and the heaviness of my heart will not lift as the days go by. I have seen Sir Richard in the harbourmaster’s office and down on the quay but I dare not inquire after Isabella. Then, one month after I have been working in Falmouth, I overhear Sir Richard talking with Mr Vyvyan as they stand on the quay near the schooner I am measuring up for my figurehead. Both men have already greeted me and asked after my father.

  It is a habit of Sir Richard’s to shout, even when talking to a man next to him, and I hear clearly most of the conversation.

  ‘Is my daughter quite recovered now?’ Mr Vyvyan asks.

  ‘From the influenza, yes. But her spirits seem very low. I suggested that your niece, Sophie Tredinnick, come to stay. I thought it might cheer her, but Isabella did not feel up to it.’

  Mr Vyvyan says, ‘Richard, you must not allow Isabella’s low spirits to take hold. Her mother used to suffer in the same way from time to time …’

  ‘Indeed? And what cheered Helena? What brought her back to herself?’

  ‘Isabella. A child made the difference. After Isabella was born, I do not believe Helena ever suffered the same low spirits.’

  I hear Sir Richard laugh. ‘My God, Daniel, I believe you have given me the answer. Of course! Isabella needs children and a purpose.’

  I feel rage, then such sudden despair that I have to hang on to the bowsprit. I know that if Isabella had her way, Sir Richard would never touch her. I swing down from the ship without my measurements and stride past the two men.

  In the late afternoon I walk into the village of Mylor. I have no idea what I am going to do, only that I have an overwhelming need to see Isabella. I walk up the creek road from the village and stand facing the gates of the house. I decide I will search out Lisette and ask how her mistress is. I do not care what Lisette thinks. I head off to the right of the gates towards the small wood that runs behind the back of the house. I skirt the wood, then suddenly hear a horse and see Sir Richard, back from Falmouth, emerging from the trees and riding towards the house. I turn away back to the gate. I can think of no good reason to give for being here.

  Lisette was in the kitchen ironing one of Isabella’s dresses. Something was niggling at her but Lisette could not identify it. As she ironed she thought, I am going to have to take her dresses in soon … It was then that her unease manifested itself.

  Lisette replaced the iron on the stove and went quickly upstairs. She knocked on the door and went in. The room was empty and Lisette went to the top drawer and looked down at the rags. Some had been removed and Lisette felt sudden relief. She went into the bathroom but could find no soiled linen in Isabella’s covered bucket.

  Lisette felt the frightened beat of her heart. Isabella had been left in her care and she had neglected her duty because of her ill and dying mother. Perhaps Isabella’s illness could have changed the pattern of her monthly.

  Then she remembered the look in Ben Welland’s eyes that had mirrored her own suspicion. She went slowly and heavily back down the stairs to her ironing.

  Tom turned back to the gates. Had he continued a few more yards he would have met Isabella, who was walking along the ha-ha towards him.

  Chapter 58

  Lisette went quickly into Isabella’s bedroom. That morning she had woken knowing she must ask Isabella the question she already knew the answer to. She had been hoping for two weeks to see a sign and she dared not leave the situation any longer.

  Isabella was still in bed, lying up on her pillows staring out through the window to the sea beyond the garden. Lisette placed Isabella’s breakfast tray on her knees and stood at the foot of the bed.

  ‘Miss Isabella, are you with child?’

  Isabella started, shocked, for she was not expecting this. She looked at Lisette and her colour rose. Lisette held her eyes steadily and waited.

  Isabella said quietly, ‘I believe so, Lisette.’

  ‘Have you told Sir Richard?’ Lisette needed to discount the possibility of this being a celebration not a tragedy.

  ‘No. Lisette …’

  Do not make me ask, Miss Isabella, Lisette thought. Have the courage to tell me.

  Isabella said, ‘Lisette, the baby cannot be Sir Richard’s. It … is not.’ She looked down at her tray, fiddling with the lace edging.

  Lisette said, ‘Can you be sure, Isabella? He did visit you in St Piran.’

  ‘Yes … Believe me, I am sure.’

  ‘Then there is only one thing to be done. You must take Sir Richard to your bed as soon as possible.’

  ‘I cannot do that, Lisette.’

  Isabella seemed very calm and Lisette wondered if the seriousness of her predicament had dawned on her yet. She felt suddenly angry with her mistress. They stared at one another, neither looking away.

  ‘It is the only thing you can do,’ Lisette said finally.

  ‘It would be dishonest.’

  ‘Dishonest!’ Lisette almost spat the word out and Isabella flushed.

  ‘What do you have in mind, Miss Isabella? I hope that you are not thinking of going to Sir Richard and telling him the truth?’

  ‘Not yet, Lisette.’

  Lisette was now frightened. She went towards the bed.

  ‘Isabella! For pity’s sake! You will be ruined and I will be in the poorhouse …’

  Isabella placed the tray aside and patted the bed.

  ‘Lisette! Come, sit down. Listen to me. I have been thinking. It is all I have been doing these past weeks …’

  Reluctantly, Lisette perched on the edge of the bed. She closed her eyes for a moment to still her heart. She did not realize she was wringing her hands and Isabella took one and smoothed it, knowing she should have talked to Lisette long before now.

  ‘Lisette, I need to see Tom.’

  ‘How is that going to help? Miss Isabella, it is not Tom who is going to grow large. It is not Tom whose reputation and marriage are going to be ruined …’

  ‘Lisette, please listen. When I realized … I was so afraid, I thought as you do, that I would have to deceive Richard. But I cannot do it. I can neither take Richard to my bed nor pretend he is the father. Lisette, I love Tom, I love him. He has the right to know and I believe he will help me …’

  Lisette snatched her hand away. ‘Love? Pah!’ She jumped to her feet. ‘What were you thinking of to be so careless? Passion passes, Miss Isabella. You won’t be the first lady to take a lover, nor the last to have another man’s child. It is what you do next that counts. You can ruin your life or you can be sensible. You have deceived your husband. You have lain with another man. Worse, you have lain with a boy half Sir Richard’s age and one who works for him. You will never be forgiven. Never. Believe me, Miss Isabella, for I swear to you, if Sir Richard ever finds out you carry another man’s child … God help you, for I will not be able to.’

  Isabella had gone pale. She had never seen Lisette afraid. She said slowly, ‘I cannot believe, Lisette, that Tom would abandon me or Sir Richard would ever do me harm …’

  ‘Then you are a fool!’ Lisette interrupted. ‘What can Tom the carver do to protect you? What can he offer you?’

  Isabella leant forward. ‘I have Mama’s money in trust for me. I thought if I tried to explain to Richard that I am being unfair to him … that I do love him, but … not as a husband … I thought if I bought a litt
le house of my own he might let me go …’

  Even to Isabella those words sounded so unlikely and childish that she stopped.

  ‘Lisette, you are right. I do not quite know what I can say, yet …’ She touched Lisette’s arm. ‘Oh, Lisette, I want my freedom from this marriage …’

  Lisette shook her head in despair. ‘You think that Sir Richard will nod his head kindly, that he will understand your rejection of him?’

  ‘Of course not, Lisette … I mean only that I want …’

  ‘You want to hurt and destroy a man’s life and you want him to understand!’ Lisette walked to the door. ‘At this moment I wish your mama was alive, and I a servant only, not a nursemaid.’

  She started to go out, then turned. ‘I ask one thing of you, Miss Isabella. If I can find Tom, will you do nothing, say nothing to Sir Richard until after you have seen him?’

  ‘I will, Lisette. Say nothing of my condition to Tom. Say only that I need to speak to him. I will meet him on the coastal path near the stile by the wood at three o’clock.’

  Isabella was mortified at the tone Lisette had just used. It was as if she was already losing Lisette’s respect.

  Lisette said, more gently, ‘Miss Isabella, you have kept Sir Richard out of your bed for many months now. Absence and illness are no longer the case. I doubt even Sir Richard will indulge you for much longer.’

  Then she left the room.

  Isabella got up and went to the window and stared out. She shivered. She could never lie with Richard again. She would rather die.

  I watch Isabella coming towards me along the path. She seems smaller and thinner, yet she looks more beautiful than ever. I can feel my body tense with the excitement of seeing her again.

  Her smile lights up her face as she sees me and her pace quickens. Oh, that face! I know every feature, it is a familiar map I wander round at night before I sleep.

  Isabella reaches me breathless and we stand staring at each other, so glad to look upon the other’s face. I hold out my hands and she takes them. She is wearing a dress I have seen before in a shiny blue which catches the light.

  I pull her towards me to kiss her mouth and I feel her shaking. Her breasts are tight against the shiny blue of her dress and I can see the swell of her belly. I know every curve of her body, the cut and flow of her dresses, where they are gathered, how they fit and fall around her. I know exactly.

  Isabella meets my eyes and the colour floods her cheeks, and it is then that I realize what her new radiance means and why she suddenly needed to see me.

  As she waits for me to speak, her eyes hold mine, burn into me. She is waiting to see if I will reject her.

  I reach out and touch her rounded belly, then, overcome, I bend to my knees pressing my head against her stomach. Isabella is carrying my child.

  She holds my head hard to her and I can feel her weeping. I lay my coat on the damp grass for her and pull her gently down. I am lost for the right words to say, for this discovery is so startling and unexpected.

  Before I can say anything, Isabella whispers, ‘I have only been with you, Tom. Richard has not shared my bed since … you. This child is not my husband’s.’

  ‘Isabella, do you really think I would doubt or question you?’

  She smiles faintly. ‘No.’

  ‘Only Lisette knows of your condition?’

  ‘Yes. But Tom, my body is changing. Richard might not notice but other people will soon. You did.’

  ‘But I know your body as if it were my own …’ I kiss her mouth, feel the familiar ache of wanting her.

  ‘Isabella, I do not know what is in your mind. I have so little to offer you. I am no longer a poor man but against the life you have known I will seem poor, but I love you and everything that I have is yours to share …’

  ‘You would share a life with me, Tom?’

  ‘I would. But, Isabella, I could love you no less if you stayed with Sir Richard. I would understand.’

  ‘And pass off your child as his?’

  I nod, unable to meet her eyes.

  ‘Lisette has already suggested that is what I must do.’

  ‘Perhaps it is,’ I say miserably.

  There is silence, then Isabella says in a voice that is unsteady, ‘Tom, I do not love my husband in the way he would like, and despite his kindness my life is empty. I carry your child and even when I am afraid, it has been like some wonderful secret that has given me strength and made me calm …’

  She takes my hand and holds it to her face.

  ‘Without you my life feels worthless. I would rather be with you than anything on this earth …’

  ‘Say it once more,’ I whisper. ‘Only then will I believe it.’

  ‘I love you, Tom. You know that I do! Last summer, when we were together in St Piran, I was the happiest I have ever been in my life.’

  I pluck lengths of grass and twist them into a small ring and place it on her finger. ‘Isabella, your husband might never divorce you, this might be the only ring I can ever give you.’

  ‘So be it, Tom. In our hearts we will be married.’

  ‘Your reputation will be ruined, Isabella. If you regret your decision you will never be accepted back into society.’

  ‘I know this.’

  ‘You understand that we shall have to move a long way a way?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You have always lived in Cornwall.’

  ‘I have always wanted to travel, Tom.’

  I tremble, suddenly able to glimpse a life together. ‘Is it possible you could sail with me to Prince Edward Island? Start a new life with me there?’

  ‘Yes!’ Isabella says. ‘Truly I could, Tom. Is it a good place to bring up a child?’

  ‘It is a wonderful place and I am assured of work. I was always going to go back …’ I stop. ‘Isabella, I need to think carefully about how we do this, for there is a need to move fast …’

  I get to my feet and help Isabella to hers. Already her movements are slower and I have a sudden fear of being unable to protect her.

  ‘Isabella, you must leave Botallick House without saying anything to Sir Richard.’

  ‘It seems so cruel.’

  ‘What we are doing is cruel. There is no way out of that. Isabella, even good people do revengeful things when they are angry. I want you safe. I need to be safe to protect you … How quickly could you be ready to leave?’

  I see her face is suddenly anxious. ‘Isabella, maybe you need more time to think on this?’

  ‘No, Tom, I do not. I was thinking only of Lisette. I do not want to leave her, but I do not know whether she will come with me. Where will we go?’

  ‘I think, London or Southampton. A city will hide us and we can obtain a passage there for New England … I will get word to you, Isabella, but our safety depends on your silence. Promise me?’

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘Come, it is getting cold.’

  Isabella is pale as if suddenly realizing all the wider implications for the first time. She will leave everything behind her. So will I.

  I walk a little way back down the coastal path with her. We are silent, our spirits subdued for the troubles ahead. I cannot tell her that I am afraid for us both. I do not doubt our paths lie together but exactly how it is to be executed, at this moment I have no idea.

  Chapter 59

  Returning to London after Josh’s rescue was like finding an oasis. Gabby did not need to explain or talk to Mark, he just let her slide through those first days, sleeping and reading, walking with him and listening to music. When she felt like talking, he was there.

  She moved about the London house touching things, glad they were in the same place they had always been, like a cat re-establishing territory after an absence.

  Lucinda was proving a good friend. Gabby needed to work but found she could only manage short bursts of concentration and Lucinda, noticing, put her in touch with a couple of clients who had smaller paintings to restore.

  I
t was not just the fright with Josh that had knocked Gabby off course. It was Charlie, her life and Mark. Life suddenly seemed tenuous, in the moment of moving on but not yet reaching anywhere lasting.

  She and Mark spent a lot of time walking through parks, where the trees were beginning to shed their leaves, and along the river. Sometimes they walked in silence as they thought about the reality of what they were both about to do. Sometimes they gently rehearsed the things they might say. Both felt joy at the thought of being together and equal dread at the distress and anger and recriminations involved.

  Mark had actually booked a flight to return home for Veronique’s hospital appointment, but had cancelled it when Gabby rang from Cornwall. He told Gabby about Veronique and she immediately felt guilty.

  ‘Mark! You should have told me. I would have understood.’

  ‘There is no way I could have flown home at that point, Gabriella.’

  ‘But her need might have been greater than mine.’

  ‘It might have been,’ Mark agreed, ‘and that would have been on my conscience. But it wasn’t. Her tests were negative.’

  ‘But,’ Gabby said, ‘your wife won’t see it like that, Mark. She will only see that you didn’t travel back to support her when you knew it was possible the outcome could have been quite different.’

  ‘You’re right, and that’s why I must fly back in the next week or so and talk to Veronique and the girls. My daughters will give me the third degree and I want to be honest.’

  They were standing near a huge plane tree. Mark smiled as he put his hand out to touch the vast trunk.

  ‘I bet this guy has heard it all before, the machinations of human beings and what they do for love. I bet he’s glad he’s a tree.’

  Gabby stared at him, suddenly remembering how much more he used to laugh.

  ‘Mark, I have never asked you to leave your family. I can go on as we are … or if …’

  ‘Hey … hey, Gabriella … stop right there …’ Mark pulled her to him leaning against the tree. ‘That must have come out all wrong. A sort of feeble joke that sounded cynical. I’m sorry. I’m as much a coward as the next man. I admit I’m dreading having to confront my family. But I can’t go back to my old life, I don’t want to. I love you, possibly more than you will ever know, Gabriella Ellis …’