The Madness

by Alison Rattle

  Marnie stood in front of the fireplace. It was so huge that the remaining embers in the fire basket looked lost. She swore the fireplace was bigger by far than the whole of a bathing machine. She could walk into it and live inside quite comfortably.

  ‘Shall we go to the kitchens?’ Noah’s voice beside her made her jump.

  ‘The kitchens?’ said Marnie.

  ‘Yes. I need to check on Prince and I think we could both do with a hot drink, don’t you?’

  Marnie followed the light of Noah’s candle back into the screens passage. As they walked along, Marnie smelled the history seeping from the stone walls. She held out her hand and touched the cold stone and imagined how many others had laid a hand on the same spot. Was she the very first?

  ‘Here we are,’ said Noah. He swung open a heavy wooden door and light flooded out into the passage. ‘Hetty. You may go to bed now,’ Noah called out.

  ‘Yes, sir. Thank you.’ Marnie heard a girl’s voice and the scraping of a chair.

  After a moment Noah turned to her. ‘Come. We have the kitchens to ourselves now.’

  ‘Who was that?’ asked Marnie as she followed Noah into the kitchen.

  ‘Hetty,’ said Noah. ‘Remember I told you about her? She is the parlour maid. Although she has had to take on more duties since we have come here. We do not need a full staff with only Mother and me, and no guests to entertain. Hetty is more of a maid-of-all-works at the moment.’

  ‘But you have plenty of other servants too,’ said Marnie, remembering the gaggle of maids and footmen on the beach when Lady de Clevedon had first come to bathe.

  ‘Yes, I suppose we do,’ said Noah. ‘We have Clarissa, of course, Mother’s lady’s maid, and Sally the cook, and Mr Todd, or the Toad as I call him. He is Father’s old butler. He oversees the servants here. It keeps him occupied in his old age. There are a couple of footmen too, and a stable boy. There may be one or two other maids, I do not know! I confess I rarely see them. They are like invisible mice that run around keeping everything in order.’

  As they walked through into the heart of the kitchen, Marnie saw the wolfhound lying in front of the fire. He whined and came bounding over at the sound of Noah’s voice. ‘Sshush,’ said Noah, stroking him under his muzzle. The hound growled low in his throat and edged towards Marnie. ‘Stop that!’ Noah ordered. ‘Come, Prince. Come,’ he said. He took Marnie’s hand and held it under the hound’s nose. ‘See? It is only Marnie. You remember her from the beach, don’t you? She is our friend.’

  The hound’s growl turned to a whine of pleasure as Marnie rubbed behind his ears.

  ‘He is a wise dog,’ said Noah. ‘He remembers you well. Now … the kettle is still hot. Would you care for some tea? And a slice of Sally’s seed cake?’

  They sat together at the end of an enormous wooden table. Marnie sat stiffly, listening for the sound of footsteps or the groan of a door. She knew she shouldn’t be there, a girl like her supping with a proper young gentleman! But somehow it felt right; like part of her had always belonged.

  Noah poured her tea from a white china pot and served her a slice of the softest, sweetest cake she had ever eaten. They sat until the teapot was empty and Noah told her of his life in London. How his days were filled with visitors and outings to the theatre. How he studied under a private tutor, and of the dances that were held almost every week in the houses of his father’s wealthy friends.

  ‘You can’t imagine how tedious it has been coming here,’ Noah said. ‘No friends, no amusements. Until I met you, of course. You have made my stay here so much more bearable.’

  Marnie swallowed down a smile. She didn’t want Noah to see how much his words pleased her. ‘Will you have to go back to London, then?’ She caught her breath as she waited for his answer.

  ‘I will have to go back some time,’ said Noah. ‘I want to go back. But only when Mother is well again. And I cannot tell you when that will be.’

  ‘I didn’t know she was still sick,’ said Marnie. ‘It’s a shame Ma can’t give her another dipping. That would sort her out.’

  ‘Doctor Russell advised against it,’ said Noah. ‘He said it was doing her more harm than good.’

  ‘Pah!’ said Marnie. ‘And what does he know about it? I’ve never known anyone not benefit from the sea-cure!’

  ‘That may be so,’ said Noah. ‘But your bathing machines are away now and Mother has been told to keep quiet and rest.’

  Marnie was stung. How could any of them know the true marvels of the sea? They knew nothing. Still, she was glad Lady de Clevedon was sick. She hoped it would be a long, long time before she returned to health. The longer she remained sick, the longer Noah would stay.

  A clock somewhere in the manor chimed one. Noah yawned. ‘It is late. I must let Prince out for his last turn around the grounds. We will walk you to the bottom of the road, shall we?’

  Marnie was glad to get back to the cottage. Her head was bursting and she wanted to be alone to sort out her thoughts and to remember every detail of the manor and the hours she’d spent with Noah. It was cold inside the cottage kitchen, the air still damp with wet washing. She poked at the fire but there were no embers to coax to life. So she lay on her mattress, wrapped tight in her blanket, and imagined she was cosied up next to the kitchen fire at the manor, with Prince lying across her feet to keep her warm. She closed her eyes. Had she truly been drinking tea with Noah de Clevedon? Had she truly been inside Clevedon Manor? Inside the Great Hall? She hadn’t been dreaming, had she? No. She could never have imagined all she’d seen and heard and tasted. It had been real. And it had been wonderful.

  There was the sound of a door opening. Marnie lay still.

  ‘You asleep, Marnie?’ Eldon Cross whispered from across the room.

  Marnie said nothing.

  ‘I know you’re awake, Marnie. I just heard you come in.’

  Again, Marnie didn’t stir, although her heart thumped painfully against her ribs.

  ‘I just want to talk,’ said Eldon. ‘That’s all. Sometimes I don’t sleep at night either.’

  There was silence for a moment. Then Marnie heard Eldon sniff and clear his throat. ‘Where do you go at nights, Marnie Gunn? I wonder.’

  He shuffled back to the bedchamber and closed the door.

  Marnie didn’t move. But anger flashed white in her head. How dare that man come to her like that! She shuddered. This was her space at night. He had no right to come near. It would be no good telling Ma or Smoaker, though. She couldn’t chance Eldon telling them of her night excursions.

  The problem wormed its way round and round her head and into her dreams of Noah and Clevedon Manor, so when she woke in the morning she couldn’t be certain if Eldon Cross had come to her in the night or not.

  29

  The Journal of Noah de Clevedon

  Clevedon. OCTOBER 1st 1868, Thursday

  Father is home for two days. He is come to inspect the progress of the pier. The piles have all been sunk now and work is ahead of schedule. Everyone is praying for a mild winter so there is little disruption.

  Mother brightened a good deal to see him. She dressed for dinner tonight and looked like a pale but beautiful angel. I wish Father would love her more. I wish he would stay and love her back to health again. But pressing business means he has to return to London tomorrow. Besides, he is an impatient man and would not make an ideal sick-bed companion.

  At least I have Marnie to distract me. She is a light in a house of darkness. I hope it was not unwise of me to have brought her to the manor Sunday last. But I could not resist showing her this place. She is not used to such things and I wanted to show her something new, as she has shown me something new. It was heartwarming to see the look on her face. There is a part of me, I admit, that revelled in showing off. But still, I do hope that none of the servants saw us.

  30

  A Long, Sweeping Staircase

  ‘Come,’ said Noah to Marnie. ‘Let me show you a game I played when I came h
ere as a young boy.’ He took her out through one of the doors in the manor kitchen and into a large hallway. He ran and placed a candle at the top of the long, sweeping staircase, then came down and put another on a table at the bottom. The candle flames formed dancing shadows on the green and gold papered walls, and lit up the faces of dour-faced gentlemen who gazed down out of dark oil paintings. Marnie was curious. What was he going to show her? She’d been as pleased as Punch when he’d invited her back to the manor again, after a strong gale had chased them off the beach earlier. They’d had tea, as before, sitting at the kitchen table. Prince had recognised her straight away and nuzzled his head into her lap. The hound could never have known how that one gesture had almost made her weep. And now this. Marnie’s heart danced like the shadows on the wall.

  ‘Follow me,’ whispered Noah. ‘But we must be as quiet as mice.’ He led the way up the stairs slowly, so that Marnie could keep up. She crept after him, marvelling at the soft green carpet that covered each stair and muffled the tap of her stick. The staircase climbed up and up in a gentle curve and then, just as Marnie’s leg began to ache, the climb ended abruptly and she stood next to Noah on a wide landing that disappeared to the left and right into darkness. Noah put his finger to his lips. ‘Watch me,’ he whispered.

  Noah suddenly lifted his leg and mounted the polished oak banister with ease. He smiled widely at Marnie. She noticed how one of his front teeth was slightly crooked. Then, before she could ask what he was doing, he was gone. Marnie gasped out loud as Noah swooped down the great curved banister. He stopped with a bump against the carved post at the bottom of the staircase and waved up at Marnie.

  Marnie realised she’d been holding her breath and, as she looked down at Noah smiling up at her, a titter burst out of her. She clamped a hand over her mouth and peered to the left and right, down the dark corridors. There was no sound and no movement from anywhere. Noah ran back up the stairs. ‘Now it is your turn,’ he whispered.

  ‘I can’t do that!’ spluttered Marnie. Was he mad? She looked down the staircase. It was a dreadfully long way to the bottom.

  ‘What? The Maid of the Sea, the Queen of the Waves, cannot brave a simple staircase? I am disappointed in you, Marnie Gunn. I thought you had more fire in your belly.’

  Marnie looked at him smirking at her and looked again at the banister winding down to the flickering flame on the hall table. Her legs trembled under her skirt, but she glanced back at Noah and set her shoulders straight. ‘You’re not right in the head,’ she whispered. ‘But go on. Help me up, then.’ Noah bent down and before Marnie knew what was happening, he had gripped her twisted foot in his hand and hoisted her over the banister. Hot waves of shock rippled through her body and stung her face. It was as though Noah had just touched her in her most private of places. She was stunned, but held on to the stair-post tightly as she straddled the banister.

  ‘Just go!’ whispered Noah. ‘Don’t think about it. Just let go!’

  Marnie’s fingers ached. She couldn’t hold tight any more. The stair-post began to slip from her grip. ‘Noooo!’ she hissed. But it was too late. The musty candle-air of the manor rushed past her ears as she flew down the banister. Her skirt and drawers were pushed to a bunched tangle between her legs and her eyes sprang astonished tears. Then, just as she was filled to the brim with the extraordinary sensation, it ended. She hit the bottom stair-post and the air was knocked out of her lungs in one loud shout. She tumbled to the floor, knocking the candle from the table.

  Noah was by her side in an instant. ‘Ssshhh,’ he said, picking her up. ‘You’ll wake the whole household.’ His voice had a streak of laughter in it. ‘That was good, was it not?’ he asked.

  The flame from the candle that Marnie knocked to the floor drowned in a puddle of wax and the only light now came from the top of the stairway. Marnie was dazed. Everything had happened so quickly. From Noah touching her foot, to her landing on the hall floor – it had all been a whirl of feelings that Marnie hadn’t had time to put in their proper place. ‘It was … it was … ’ Marnie couldn’t catch her breath as she tried to steady herself and find her bearings in the darkness.

  A door banged from somewhere in the manor and Marnie stiffened.

  ‘Who’s there?’ a small voice echoed from the far side of the hall.

  ‘It’s Hetty!’ whispered Noah, and he pulled Marnie into an alcove. They pressed themselves against the wall and watched as a candle flame flickered on the paintings opposite. Marnie bit on her tongue to keep a nervous snigger from escaping. It was good to be so close to Noah. She could feel his body rise and fall, and the warmth of him seeped through the cotton of her frock and touched her skin.

  ‘Prince? Is that you?’ Hetty’s nervous voice came again. Her candle flame quivered on the wall and Marnie saw the shape of her appear from out of the darkness. It was the maid she’d seen at Mr Tyke’s. Beside her, Noah’s body shook with suppressed laughter. Hetty stood still with her head cocked to one side. Marnie heard her shallow breaths.

  Suddenly a tickle caught in Marnie’s throat. She tried to swallow it down, but it grew bigger and more irritating and although she pressed her hand to her mouth, a cough suddenly spluttered out from between her fingers.

  Hetty jumped and as she whirled around to face the alcove, Noah stepped out of the shadows. ‘Hetty,’ he said. ‘I am so sorry to have startled you.’

  ‘Master Noah! Is everything all right? I heard a shout.’

  ‘It was only me, Hetty. I tripped on something. I was just trying to see what it was.’

  ‘But where is your candle, Master Noah? You can’t see in the dark.’

  ‘I dropped it. Look.’ He took Hetty’s candle and shone it on the floor to where Marnie had knocked the candle from the table. ‘Here it is!’

  Marnie stayed put, waiting for Noah to call her out of her hiding place and introduce her to the maid.

  Noah lit his candle from Hetty’s flame. ‘Thank you. You may go to bed now. I will make sure everything is locked up.’ Hetty bobbed a small curtsey and scuttled back down the hallway.

  ‘You can come out now!’ whispered Noah.

  ‘I’ll need me stick,’ said Marnie. ‘We left it at the top of the stairs.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Noah. ‘I will fetch it.’

  Marnie listened as the sound of his footsteps faded up the stairs. The bright thrill she had felt all evening turned dull now. It was all ruined somehow. When Noah came back with her stick, she snatched it from him. ‘Why did you keep me hidden from Hetty?’

  Noah looked at her in surprise. ‘You know why,’ he said. ‘We cannot be seen together like this.’

  ‘But she’s only a maid,’ said Marnie. ‘What does it matter to her?’

  ‘You cannot really be so innocent,’ said Noah. ‘Servants are the very worst of tittle-tattles.’

  Marnie was silent.

  ‘Hey!’ said Noah. ‘Why look so grave? Have you not enjoyed yourself?’ He poked her in the ribs. ‘Did you ever think you would sail down the banisters of Clevedon Manor?’

  Marnie shook her head. A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth.

  ‘Well, all is not lost, then,’ said Noah. ‘Come. I think it is high time we both went to our beds.’

  Marnie crept into the kitchen at Ratcatcher’s Row. She checked for a light under Eldon Cross’s door. There was nothing. Good. Maybe she had imagined the other night after all. Without bothering to undress, she lay on her mattress and pulled the blanket over her head. She thought of Noah pressed against her in the alcove and she touched her arm where his warmth had been. She dared herself to remember the moment he’d held her twisted foot in his hand. Nobody had ever done that before. And Noah hadn’t even flinched. Under the blanket, Marnie’s face flushed hot and a warm softness spread through her, filling her belly and limbs. She fell into such a deep sleep that she didn’t hear Eldon Cross tiptoe across the room. She didn’t smell the beer on his breath as he leaned over her. She didn’t feel his hand
stroke her hair and she didn’t hear him whisper, ‘I mean to marry you, Marnie Gunn. You mark my words.’

  31

  The Journal of Noah de Clevedon

  Clevedon. OCTOBER 5th 1868, Monday

  Hetty has been giving me strange looks all day. I cannot help but wonder if she saw something last night. I certainly hope not. I cannot have Mother bothered with rumour and nonsense. Maybe I should not bring Marnie to the manor any more. But that would be a shame, as I do so like the look of wonder that being here brings to her face. And surely I should be permitted to indulge in whatever innocent diversions I can find in this place? I will catch Hetty alone tomorrow, and have a quiet word with her.

  Since Father’s visit, Mother has continued to improve. She even took a small turn around the garden this afternoon. She clung to my arm tightly and the footmen followed with a chair, but she was brave beyond words and the chair went back into the manor unused. She is talking more and more of London and of how she misses the house and the company. I dare not hope that we may return soon!

  In the meantime, I have written to Arnold and asked him to pass on my regards to Cissie Baird. After all, there is a chance now that we may be back in London for the Christmas season!

  32

  A Walk Along the Esplanade

  October brought howling storms to Clevedon and brought work on the pier to a halt. Smoaker and Eldon Cross filled the kitchen with their pipe smoke and complaints. Talk was all of the pier and of a labourer who had been crushed to death by a falling girder. ‘Bashed his head right in, it did,’ said Smoaker. ‘T’wasn’t right having us out there in them winds. Glad they’ve seen sense now.’