Pool of St. Branok
Page 36
He had been in the water so long that it was not easy to identify the body but certain evidence pointed to the fact that it could have been he. The watch bore the initials M.D. His name was Mervyn Duncarry. Those of W.B. might well belong to someone for whom he had a sentimental attachment. It was difficult to imagine how an escaped prisoner could have had such a watch. He certainly would not have been wearing it in prison; but his prison clothes had been discovered on Bodmin Moor so it seemed obvious that he had had help from somewhere. It could have been said that he had stolen the clothes and the watch with them and perhaps scratched on it the initials of himself and this person. The police were reading it as a clue to his identity. It could have been caught in the rocky ledge when he fell into the pool and so remained there near the surface. It was a mystery; but the police were almost convinced that the man discovered in St Branok Pool was Mervyn Duncarry—though they were not closing the files on the murder case yet.
Grace looked rather shaken, I thought. I guessed she was thinking of Rebecca wandering out on her own when there were such people in the world.
A few days later when we were riding together she wanted to go down to the shore. We galloped along the beach to the boathouse. She paused there and said: “Let’s tie up the horses and walk a little.”
We did and as we went along she said: “I can’t help thinking of that man in the pool.”
I did not want to speak of him. I had not been able to get him out of my mind since the discovery in the pool.
I said: “I don’t think we should be back too late. I really don’t entirely trust Annie with Rebecca.”
“She’s bound to be doubly careful now. The others are very watchful. Are you thinking about that man? I remember so well when it happened. There was a young man staying here.”
“Ben … you mean?”
“Yes, Ben. Do you remember you had a ring …?”
“Yes,” I said faintly.
“There were initials on it. M.D. and there were two more besides.”
“I think it was W.B.”
“They were on the watch,” she said. “You found the ring, didn’t you?”
I nodded.
“Where, Angelet?”
“It … it was when I had my accident.”
“On the beach here … near the boathouse?”
I did not speak.
“It’s odd,” she said. “The watch was in the pool and the ring … here by the boathouse. Why did he come here and lose his ring and then go and drown himself in the pool? What do you make of it, Angelet?”
“It’s very mysterious.”
“Show me the spot where you found the ring.”
“I can’t remember … quite. Grace, we must go back.”
She laid a hand on my arm. “Angelet.” Her grip was very firm and her eyes looked straight into mine. “You know something … don’t you?”
“What do you mean? Know what?”
“Something about this man. You remember. You had an accident. You were on the beach. You found the ring …”
“It’s so long ago. I don’t remember.”
“Angelet, I think you do remember. It wasn’t like that, was it?”
I felt trapped and again there came that impulse which I had had with Gervaise, to talk and explain.
I heard myself saying: “No, it wasn’t like that.”
“You’ve always felt something about the pool, haven’t you?”
“How did you know?”
“I’ve watched you. Something happens when it’s mentioned. What is it about the pool? Did you know they would find him?”
“Yes,” I cried. “I did know … because …”
She came closer; her eyes were glittering with curiosity; she kept a firm grip on my arm.
“Tell me about it. Tell me, Angelet. It will help you to tell.”
I closed my eyes and saw it all. “We shouldn’t have done it,” I said. “We should have called people. Let them know that he was dead.”
“Dead? Who?”
“That man. That murderer.”
“You saw him?”
“Yes, I saw him. He was going to do to me what he had done to that other girl. Ben came in time … and they fought. He fell and knocked his head on that bit of wall. You could not see it very much before it was excavated. It was just a sharp piece of flint sticking up in the grass. He cut his head on it. It killed him. Ben and I threw him into the pool.”
She was staring at me. I hardly recognized her, her eyes were brilliant in her very pale face.
“And the ring?” she said.
“It was by the pool. I picked it up without thinking. I put it in the drawer. I didn’t remember putting it there. I didn’t think it was his ring. Then you said you liked it and I gave it to you.”
“I see,” said Grace slowly. “And all the time they were hunting for him you knew he was lying at the bottom of the pool.”
I did not speak.
“I can see clearly how it happened,” she said. “Who else knows? Have you told anyone?”
“Only Gervaise.”
“Gervaise,” she said slowly.
“Grace, do you think we were wrong?”
“I think you should not have tried to hide the body.”
“I believe that to be so now. Then it seemed the best thing. We were afraid there would be trouble. We thought they would say we killed him … and it was rather like what happened to my grandfather. You know, he killed a man who was attempting to assault a girl. It was called manslaughter and he was sent to Australia as a convict for seven years.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Not so very long. Perhaps we were impulsive. We didn’t know what would be best. He was dead and he would have been hanged anyway. We told ourselves that it was better for him to die the way he did.”
“But it has been on your conscience, hasn’t it? All these years?”
“It’s something you never forget. I’m glad I’ve told you, Grace.”
“Yes, I am, too.”
As we rode home neither of us said very much. We were both thinking of the man who for all those years had lain at the bottom of St Branok Pool.
Grace went back to London. I missed her very much. I was beginning to feel restive. I felt as though I were lying in a great feather bed, overprotected. I think at times my parents forgot I was no longer a child. I was sinking deeper and deeper into a sort of limbo where everyone contrived to stop anything ever happening to me in case it should be harmful. They forgot I had been married; I had traveled to Australia and lived a very unconventional life there. I found it hard to settle down to the quiet life of an English country gentlewoman in a remote corner of England—even though it was the home of my childhood.
My mother knew how I was feeling. I was sure that there were long consultations between her and my father. There were several dinner parties to which young men were invited—or rather they were not very young and most of them I had known since childhood. I knew what they were trying to do. They felt I should marry again and they were trying to find a suitable husband for me.
I did imply that I did not want a husband, and if I did I should prefer to find my own; they knew I saw through their little ruses. Their great desire was for my happiness, but I felt restricted, shut in, with too much loving care. I wished I could have told them about Ben and my feelings for him. But there seemed no one to whom I could talk of that.
One day Mrs. Pencarron came over to tea. She liked to visit us and did so fairly frequently. Then, of course, we were invited to dinner parties at Pencarron Manor and they came to us at Cador.
Morwenna and the Pencarrons were in the conspiracy which was to find a husband for Angelet. I was half amused, half impatient with them.
On this occasion Mrs. Pencarron had news.
Sitting in the drawing room, slowly stirring her tea, she said, “We’ve been talking … Josiah and I … It’s about Justin.”
“Oh?” said my mother.
I was alert. I thought: What has he been doing? I had visions of a card table in the Pencarron drawing room. They never played cards by the way. But I imagined Justin, red-faced and guilty with the ace of hearts up his sleeve.
“He’s a very good young man … very clever,” said Mrs. Pencarron. “We’re so grateful to him. He’s made our Morwenna so happy.”
“She is certainly that,” agreed my mother.
“He truly loves her and he adores young Pedrek.”
“Well, Pedrek is a charming little fellow. Our Rebecca dotes on him and she has very good taste.”
Mrs. Pencarron smiled. “I was all against it at the first. So was Josiah really. But he said we mustn’t be selfish and he’s right really. For a long time … before Morwenna’s marriage … he said we ought to have an office in London. From the point of view of business it would be a good thing … marketing and export and things like that … which Jos says is too much to be done down here. So he’s thinking of opening up this office and putting Justin in charge of it. He’s told Justin … in a vague sort of way. You see, they could go to London … after all, though it is a long way from here … there’s the railways and everything. And Justin says how they could come down here often and perhaps we could have little Pedrek here from time to time, for they’d be very busy in London and the country air would be good for him. It’s going to be a bit of a wrench. But it’ll be good for business … and now there’s someone in the family who could take on this office.”
“I see,” said my mother. “We shall miss Morwenna, shan’t we, Angelet?”
She was looking at me intently; and after Mrs. Pencarron left she said: “I believe you are envying Morwenna … going to London.”
“Justin will be pleased,” I said.
My mother made no other comment on that occasion, but I knew she and my father had many discussions, and I began to guess what was in their minds.
At length it came. “Angelet, I think you would like to go to London. You must find it a little dull here.”
“Of course not. It’s just that …”
“I know.” She was thinking of Gervaise. “It was a tragic thing that happened to you, darling. And you so newly married. It has been a great worry to us. But you know your father and I want the best for you and we have both come to the conclusion that if you felt you would like a little stay in London we wouldn’t want you to think about leaving us. You have the house there. There are Uncle Peter and Aunt Amaryllis and Helen and Matthew. … Well, the family.”
I felt my spirits lift a little. It would be a change and there was always an element of excitement in that.
My mother, who was quick to notice my moods, realized this.
“That’s settled then,” she said. “You could go up with Morwenna and Justin. I’ll write to Amaryllis. I expect you could stay with them until you get settled into your own house. Would you like to take Annie with you for Rebecca? We shall miss you very much but we’ll come and visit you and you’ll come back here.”
I put my arms round her and hugged her. “You are so good to me,” I said.
She laughed and replied: “What else did you expect? There is nothing your father and I … and Jack … want so much as to see you happy again.”
Morwenna came over. She was so pleased because I was going with them.
“I wasn’t looking forward to it, Angelet,” she told me. “I love it here. And I think the country air is so good for Pedrek.”
“There are wonderful parks in London,” I reminded her.
“Yes … but it’s not the same. On the other hand, Justin is so pleased. He’s not really a country man. It’s an excellent idea … this office in London, you know.”
Dear Morwenna. She was disturbed; she wanted to go on with the easy country life just as much as I wanted to escape from it. However, there was no doubt that she felt relieved because I should be with them.
A few days before we left there was a letter from Amaryllis:
I am so looking forward to seeing Angelet and dear little Rebecca … Morwenna and Justin, too, of course. It will be lovely to have them close. We are having her house made ready for Angelet but of course she must stay here as long as she likes … as she must know.
What do you think? Ben has come home. He is very rich now. Peter is so amused … and I think proud of him. He said he wouldn’t come home until he struck gold and my goodness, he has kept his word. Peter says you can trust Ben to do everything in a big way. He’s sold the mine now. I think he has probably had the best from it and he intends to stay at home! “No more roaming,” he says. “I’ve had enough.” He has bought a beautiful house, not far from this one—but his is more grand. There will be a lot of entertaining done, for what do you think? He is going in for politics. Peter thinks that is highly amusing. I wish they were on the same side. You know Peter supports the Conservatives and Matthew is a highly respected member of government in that party when it is in power. Ben is ranging himself with the Liberals. We have some lively conversation here as you can imagine. I must say it has all been very exciting since he came back. Ben is that sort of person. One can’t be dull in his company.
I am rather sorry for his poor little wife. Dear Lizzie, she is such a pleasant creature … so good really, but not in the least suited to all this. She is a little simple. I don’t think she can be very happy although she adores Ben and is very proud of him. But how she’ll stand up to what he’s planning, I don’t know. Helena will tell you what it is like being a parliamentary wife. But Helena has managed to throw herself into it … and Peter of course has done a great deal to further Matthew’s career. He would of course for Ben but it will be difficult their being on opposite sides of the fence as it were.
One thing I’m glad of is that Grace has taken to Lizzie and Lizzie to her. It’s a very good thing. Grace has made herself into a sort of chaperone … helps her choose her clothes and things, bolsters her up. In fact, I think she is making herself invaluable to both Lizzie and Ben. I think Ben is grateful to her. It’s good for Grace, too. I think she is a little lonely sometimes. It has always been my opinion that she would like to marry again. After all, it is so long since Jonnie died. She has mourned long enough. But no one has turned up yet. So this looking after Lizzie has been a blessing to Grace as well as to Lizzie herself.
I am so looking forward to seeing Angelet and Rebecca.
My love to you all.
While my mother was reading the letter I was thinking of Ben … back in London, his mission accomplished.
I was a little apprehensive at the prospect of seeing him again but that feeling was quickly suppressed by an immense excitement.
Arriving in London we went first to the house in the square where we were greeted warmly by Aunt Amaryllis. Rebecca and Pedrek were duly admired and put to bed in the old nursery. There were two little beds, side by side for Amaryllis thought that as they were in a strange house they should be together in case they woke up in the night and were frightened.
We had brought Annie with us and Morwenna had May, Pedrek’s nursemaid. They would probably go back to Cornwall in due course when the nannies were engaged.
Justin and Morwenna were staying for the night. I was to remain until I was ready to go into my house.
It was wonderful to see them all and I was feeling better already. Helena and Matthew arrived with Geoffrey; Peterkin and Frances came too, and just as we were going in to dinner Ben came with Lizzie.
As soon as I saw him, looking taller and extremely healthy, his eyes against his bronzed skin even more blue than I remembered, I told myself that, knowing he was here, I should not have come. In Cornwall I had tried to put him out of my mind; but I should be quite unable to here.
“Angel,” he said. “How marvelous to see you!”
“Thank you, Ben. And Lizzie, too! It is good to see you, Lizzie.”
She smiled at me shyly and I kissed her.
“I did not expect you to be home so soon,” I said.r />
“I intended to come at the first possible moment,” he answered.
“Aunt Amaryllis did tell us that you would be here.”
“So you decided to come and take a look at me?”
“Well, actually I had already decided to come. It was only a few days ago that I heard you were here.”
“Well, here we are together at last.”
We went in to dinner. Uncle Peter, a little more silvery at the temples, but as distinguished as ever and looking extremely young for his years, was at the head of the table, beaming at us all; Aunt Amaryllis with her gentle unlined face at the other.
“So you are going to set up an office here,” said Uncle Peter to Justin.
“Yes,” replied Justin. “I shall get busy tomorrow.”
“I can introduce you to a few people who might be useful.”
Dear Uncle Peter, someone had once said he had a finger in every pie, and that was true. I thought of what he had done for Gervaise and me and even if he was a wicked old sinner, I was fond of him. I was sure he would be of considerable help to Justin and if ever he discovered Justin’s weakness he would not be censorious. One of the most lovable things about sinners like Uncle Peter was that they were lenient with other people’s foibles.
Peterkin and Frances talked a little about their Mission, and Geoffrey about the law which was going to be his profession; but the conversation was dominated by Uncle Peter and Ben, and politics was the chief topic.
I was very interested to hear them. Matthew had slavishly agreed with his father-in-law; Ben had no intention of agreeing with his grandfather. They were on opposing sides. Uncle Peter extolled the virtues of Disraeli who had just become Prime Minister on the retirement from office of Lord Derby. But William Gladstone was the man to whom Ben was hitching his wagon.
“Disraeli may have the ear of the Queen,” Ben was saying. “But Gladstone is the strong man. He will be Prime Minister, mark my words, and before long. And then he will be with us for a long time. Who is this man, Disraeli?”
“The cleverest politician on the scene at this moment,” retorted Uncle Peter. “The Queen realizes this and gives him her support.”