She thought of the pavilion. She should not have allowed her to be there by herself – what had she been thinking of? She let out a little cry – almost a sob – and pushed her chair back. She got to her feet, and stumbled. She picked herself up and ran from the room. She cried out, “Bella!”
From the veranda, as she rushed to negotiate the steps down to the lawn, she saw two figures in the pavilion, and her heart gave a leap. Bella had not fallen over the edge, and Miss White with her. Now she saw Miss White push Bella away and then bundle her out of the pavilion, half lifting her, half shoving her. Virginia ran down the steps and across the lawn. She almost tripped on a croquet hoop, but it was ripped out of the soil and clattered to one side.
Miss White was shouting, and Virginia realised that this was what she had heard in the bungalow – she had heard the governess rather than Bella. The relief overwhelmed her; she almost stopped where she was; she felt her legs become unsteady beneath her; she almost sank to her knees.
But now Miss White had noticed her and was shouting something that she could not quite make out. The governess shouted again, and this time she pointed towards the lawn in front of Virginia.
“There,” Miss White shouted. “There. There.”
Virginia stopped. She had seen something on the grass, and it was moving towards her. For a few seconds, she froze, but then she moved sharply to one side. The snake, an elegant slithering shape, shot past her, its long body moving from side to side as it made its escape. Its neck and head were slightly raised, and she could see from the half-extended hood that it was a cobra.
Now she ran across the rest of the lawn until she reached the pavilion. Bella was on one of the steps that led up from the lawn; Miss White stood behind her, her hands on the child’s shoulders.
“A cobra,” said Miss White. “There was a cobra.”
Bella threw herself at her mother, hugging her. “Mummy . . .”
Virginia comforted her. She looked up at Miss White. “What happened?”
“I was on my veranda,” Miss White said. “Thank heavens I came out. I saw Bella out here, and I saw that there was something on the floor in front of her. Then it moved, and I knew what it was. My heart stopped. It actually stopped. I ran across . . .” She paused. “I think it must have seen me, and it decided to shoot off. Thank God. That was it on the lawn in front of you back there.”
“It’s gone now,” said Virginia.
She hugged Bella to her. The little girl was shaking. Virginia looked at Miss White. “I don’t know what to say,” she half whispered.
Miss White said, “No need to say anything. No need at all.” Her tone was controlled, but Virginia noticed that her hands were shaking.
12
It Was a Big Snake
V irginia shepherded Bella back into the bungalow. Neither said anything until they were inside, when Bella, who had Li Po and Po Chü-i tucked under her arm, took one in each hand and addressed them gravely.
“You were very brave,” she said.
Virginia smiled. “Of course they were. But you were brave too, darling. It’s important not to frighten snakes. They go away if you don’t panic them. You did the right thing, I think.”
Bella nodded. “It was a big snake.”
Virginia agreed. She shuddered. It was best not to think about what might have happened. It was a nerve poison, was it not, cobra venom? It attacked the nervous system and your breathing. She closed her eyes briefly. Then she said, “What happened? Where did it come from?”
They were now in Bella’s bedroom, and she laid Li Po and Po Chü-i down on her bed. Turning to her mother, she said, “I knocked over your basket. You know the basket that you keep your magazines in? That one.”
“And the snake was behind it?”
Bella shook her head. “No, not behind it. It was in it.”
Virginia stared at her. “You mean . . . Inside? Inside the basket?”
“Yes. Inside. When the basket fell over, the lid came off. That’s how the snake got out. He was very cross. He put up his neck thing . . .”
“His hood.”
“Yes, his hood. Like that. You know how they do. Remember when we were in Colombo visiting Mr Pessoa? Remember? And that old man came to the gate with his basket, and he had that big snake. He played his pipe, and the snake danced. Daddy gave him money. He was a very smelly old man.”
“He was.” She thought quickly. “But the lid was on, you say? Are you sure?”
Bella did not hesitate. “Yes. You always keep the lid on that basket, don’t you? It stops your magazines getting wet if it rains and some rain comes into the pavilion.”
Virginia looked away. She needed to compose herself. She did not want to frighten Bella, who had been shocked enough as it was. “So the snake had been trapped inside the basket, and when you knocked it over it escaped? Is that what happened, darling?”
Bella was matter-of-fact. “Yes. That’s what happened.” She turned to Li Po. “You saw it, Li Po, didn’t you? You saw the snake come out of the basket. You saw it.”
Li Po agreed. “I saw it,” he said.
“You see?” said Bella.
“See what?”
“Li Po says he saw it. He says the snake came out of the basket.”
Virginia glanced at the doll. “I wonder if Li Po knows how the snake got into the basket,” she said, trying to keep her tone even. “He often sees things we don’t see, I suspect.”
Bella liked this. Most of the time, adults failed to grasp things under their very noses, but occasionally they did – as with now. She looked directly at Li Po and asked him. Then she turned back to face her mother. “He says that somebody must have put it there.”
For a few moments Virginia was silent, but then she said, “Why would he say that, do you think?”
Bella shrugged. “He didn’t tell me why. But I think I know why.”
“Which is?”
“Because snakes can’t open lids. Even Po Chü-i knows that.”
Virginia felt her heart beating within her. Delayed shock, she thought. It is sometimes only well after an event that you feel the impact, she had read somewhere. They called it delayed shock.
Bella had begun to tidy her dressing table. Her ribbons were in a muddle; now she began to disentangle them. She said to her mother, “Miss White saved me, I think. Otherwise, I’d be dead.”
The words hung in the air.
“You mustn’t talk like that,” said Virginia. “It was a nasty moment, but the snake probably would not have bitten you. They don’t like to bite, you know. They’re just defending themselves.”
As she said this, she remembered that she had fished in the basket for that copy of National Geographic. Had the lid been off it? She did not think so. She always replaced the lid. It had almost been blown away once, and since then she had made a point of ensuring that she replaced it. But then she thought: had the snake been in the basket when she put her hand in for the magazine? If so, there had been two narrow deliverances that day. But why was there a cobra there, anyway? Cobras did not like high altitudes; it was just too cool for them where they were. They were snakes of the lower plains and the coastal jungle. They liked the warmth.
She watched Bella sorting out her ribbons. At least she was none the worse for the experience. Children were like that: they could experience the most dreadful things, and they would bounce back as if nothing had happened, their resilience an effective emotional armour against all but the most devastating blows. She would do nothing to disturb that now.
“Would you like me to read you a story?” Virginia asked. “Perhaps you’d like some more lemonade and a story. On the veranda?”
Bella looked thoughtful. “Could we invite Miss White?”
Virginia hesitated, but only for a moment or two. “Of course. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” said Bella. “She saved my life, you see.”
“Darling, I’m not sure if that’s absolutely true. She certainly helped, b
ut I don’t think we’d say she actually saved your life. That’s maybe going a bit too far.”
“No,” Bella insisted. “She did. She saved my life.”
Virginia swallowed. “Well, let’s not argue about that. I’ll go over and ask her. We’ve got some lemon drizzle cake, I think. She might like a slice of that.”
They sat on the veranda. The sun was sinking low, a great red ball over the hills to the west, and the sky had that very distinctive pale wash of the day’s end. A small flock of parrots, squawking in outrage, rose from a treetop, swooped and dipped, before descending on the branches of another tree.
“Silly birds,” observed Miss White. “They’re always making a fuss about something.”
Virginia was trying her best to be cheerful. “I must admit I love them. I love green birds.”
“I like the paradise fly-catcher,” said Miss White. Turning to Bella, she asked, “And you, Bella? What’s your favourite bird, do you think? Of all the birds you can see in the garden, which one is the nicest?”
“I like tiny birds,” said Bella. “You know those little ones. They sit on the window sometimes.”
“I know the ones you mean,” said Virginia. “I forget what they’re called. They’re very pretty.”
Suddenly Bella looked at Miss White. “I’m very sorry,” she said.
Miss White looked puzzled. “Sorry about what? About the snake?”
“That wasn’t your fault,” said Virginia, sounding bemused. “You don’t need to be sorry about what happened.” Children, she knew, could blame themselves when things went wrong.
“No, not that,” said Bella. She had fixed Miss White with an earnest stare now, and the governess looked uncomfortable, shifting in her seat and glancing at Virginia as if to solicit support.
“Oh well,” said Miss White. “What an exciting day it’s been – not that we’d want too many of these.”
Bella persisted. “I want to say sorry.”
Virginia reached for the teapot. “May I top up your cup?” she said to Miss White.
Before Miss White could answer, Bella continued, “I put some of Daddy’s things in your room, Miss White. That was me. I’m really sorry.”
Nobody moved. Virginia had been lifting up the teapot to refresh her cup. She froze, with the teapot half inclined but not yet pouring. Miss White had been reaching for a piece of cake; she, too, was still, her hand poised above the cake-stand.
Virginia found her voice first. “Darling, you mustn’t make things up.” She laughed, as if to suggest that what had been said was absurd. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
It was the wrong tactic. Now with all the resentment of the wronged, Bella protested, “I’m not making anything up! You know what I’m talking about. You’re the one who’s fibbing.”
Virginia put down the teapot. “I wish I did.” Indulgence became disapproval, and her tone was now severe. “I think you should go to your room and think about your behaviour.”
This was to pile outrage upon insult. “I’m not telling fibs,” Bella, her voice rising in indignation. “You know that I’m telling the truth. I put Daddy’s things in Miss White’s room so that you’d think she was going to steal him away from us. And you did. You thought that, and you’re making her go – all because of me.”
Miss White was pale. She turned her head slightly, away from Bella, so that she was now facing Virginia. “Really?” she said, her voice not much louder than a whisper.
“It’s complete nonsense,” snapped Virginia. And to Bella, “You mustn’t let your imagination run away with you, darling.”
Bella started to cry. “I’m not telling fibs,” she sobbed. “I really did it. That’s why I want to say sorry. Miss White saved my life, and I can’t not say sorry.”
Unexpectedly, Miss White reached out and put her hand on Bella’s forearm in a calming gesture. “I believe you, Bella.”
Virginia opened her mouth to say something, but no words came. Miss White turned to look at her expectantly, awaiting a comment.
Virginia did not rise to the challenge. “I really don’t think we should talk about this any further,” she said.
Miss White frowned. After a few moments, her reply came in measured tones. “I’m inclined to agree. Damage done is damage done.”
“But I want you to know I’m sorry,” said Bella.
Miss White glanced at her but did not say anything. Bella waited. Then Virginia said, “I suggest you have your bath now, Bella.”
Bella seemed to be waiting for a further word from Miss White, but none came. Now the governess pushed her chair back and stood up. “I shall be returning to my bungalow,” she said.
Virginia rose to her feet. “I’m sorry about this misunderstanding,” she said. The apology sounded lame and seemed barely to register with Miss White. Turning on her heels, the governess left the veranda with a brief word of thanks for the half-finished tea and cake. Virginia groaned.
“Look what you’ve done,” she whispered to Bella.
Bella looked defiant. “You can’t make her go. You have to change your mind.”
Virginia shook her head. “We can’t undo anything at this point,” she said. “Miss White has made her plans. So have we.”
“I want her to stay,” said Bella.
“She can’t. And you have to go off to school.”
“I hate you,” said Bella, picking up Li Po and Po Chü-i.
“Darling,” said Virginia, stepping forward to embrace her. “Please don’t be upset . . .”
But Bella escaped her embrace and ran back down the corridor to her room. Virginia looked about in despair. She had created this situation – it was her fault. Dishonesty came back to haunt one – she had been told that as a child and knew that it was true. And here was the proposition illustrating itself once again. She had deliberately chosen to get rid of Miss White for something that she had no evidence she had done, and this was the result: embarrassment and exposure, both richly deserved, both effectively impossible to do anything about.
Dinner for Virginia and Bella was a strained affair. They ate early, as Bella would need to get to bed, and they ate largely in silence. Virginia did her best to deal with the tension that had arisen and told Bella that as far as she was concerned, the unfortunate incident was over and done with. “All I would like you to remember,” she said, as gently as she could, “is that we don’t always say the things we’re thinking. I know that you like to be truthful, but . . .”
Bella glowered at her. “You said I was making it up. You said that to Miss White.”
Virginia remained composed. “Did I? Well, that was probably because I didn’t want her to be hurt. People can be hurt by things that other people say. You know that, don’t you?”
Bella looked down at her plate. “Yes,” she muttered. “They can be hurt by fibs too.”
“Of course they can.”
“Or by being told to go away when they’ve done nothing wrong.”
Virginia bit her lip. “There were reasons why it’s best for Miss White to go a bit early. And the most important one is that you’re going back home. You wouldn’t want to change that, would you?”
“No, but it’s still unfair that she’s being told to go away.”
Virginia shook her head. “Darling, nobody is being told to go away, as you put it. Daddy and I decided that it would be best for you to start school a bit earlier – that’s all.”
Bella folded her hands. “I was very unkind. I tried to turn you against Miss White. It was very unkind, and God is going to punish me for it.”
“Nobody is going to punish you for anything,” said Virginia. “Least of all God. He has far too many other things to worry about.”
Bella was not reassured. “I feel very bad,” she said. “I feel so bad I could be sick.”
“You’re imagining it. Eat your pudding. You like tapioca, don’t you?”
Bella lowered her head. She had done what she could. But she still f
elt bad, and thought that she would feel bad for a long time. She stared at her plate of tapioca and then pushed it away from her.
Virginia said nothing. Children had their moods. These things passed. She was thinking of what, if anything, she needed to do. Perhaps she should be frank with Miss White. Perhaps she should tell her exactly why things had happened in the way they did. She should clear the air with an honest disclosure – then it would be up to the governess to decide whether she wanted to leave on good terms, or leave with a cloud hanging over all of them. She owed that to her, perhaps, especially after today, when she had undoubtedly saved Bella from at least a very high risk of being bitten by the cobra.
The cobra . . . A thought occurred to Virginia. Somebody had put the cobra there, and had done so to imperil her – she was the only one who used that basket. But who would be so perverse as to do something that could also harm somebody else – especially a child? It could be the same person, of course, who had interfered with the pavilion barrier. But who would have done that? Who would want her dead? Anybody?
Heather’s warning at the club came back to her. But that was ridiculous. If Henry and Miss White were having an affair, then surely the simplest thing for them to do would be to run off together. Why would they want to get her out of the way and risk the consequences that would follow were they to be found out? It did not make sense.
Suddenly it came to her that there was a simple and certain way of finding out whether Henry was involved with Miss White. She would offer to go with Bella to settle her in Scotland, leaving Henry by himself. If he were having an affair with Miss White, that would suit him perfectly, and he would be enthusiastic about the suggestion. They would be free to enjoy one another’s company for three or four months while she was away. It would be a perfect opportunity for them. She paused. On the other hand, if he thought, as was perfectly possible, that it would be best for Bella to have her mother accompany her – he might be willing to remain in Ceylon by himself not because of Miss White, but because he wanted what was best for Bella. She sighed. She had previously thought that her life on the estate was far too settled and had yearned for more excitement. Now she would have welcomed a return to simplicity. She wanted to get back to a time when nothing happened, and when this nothingness passed in a quiet and untroubled succession of uneventful days.
The Pavilion in the Clouds Page 14