‘But she has asked to go home; you cannot be so hard-hearted as to ignore that, sir? Surely she must remember something of her home in order to make such a request?’
Doctor Hargreaves smiled at my over-simplification of matters – matters that he knew to be far more complex.
‘Think back, madam; perhaps you were talking of something that triggered a familiar memory in Mrs Thackeray’s mind. Something that would take her back to her life before. It would only take something of that nature to prompt her to thoughts of home.’
‘I see, and there could be no other possible explanation?’ I asked, hope now fading.
‘No, I’m afraid not, madam.’
Seeing my disappointment he attempted to reassure me. ‘Mrs Dickens, here at the asylum people are given that rare opportunity to live entirely for themselves, and themselves alone. Space to distance themselves from anything that causes pain or distress. As long as passion overturns reason, then the state of insanity will exist. If we all gave rein to every wild and unruly thought that passed through our mind and acted on it then we would all be in a state of insanity, it is our self-control and discipline that enables us to keep such things in their proper place. Life here has enabled Mrs Thackeray to quiet her mind, to shut out her pain and distress and regain some self-control. If anything were to intrude unlicensed into that space then her equanimity could be broken once again. I could not in all conscience permit her to risk that.’
‘Then I shall have to trust you, Doctor, and try to believe that my friend can know no other happiness, beyond what she has found here.’
I left that dark study, saddened that I could do no more.
Later, lying in bed that night, the doctor’s words came back to my mind, ‘As long as passion overturns reason then a state of insanity exists.’ How often had my own passion overturned reason? How many times had I been suspicious of my husband’s integrity and questioned the motives that lay behind his thoughtless words and actions? How often had I held myself back from exploding with rage over Georgie’s unwanted intrusion in my life? So, if I was on the edge of reason, who was to blame? I, for not disciplining my boisterous thoughts, or others, for pushing me beyond what any woman should have to bear?
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
September 1857
The Zoological Gardens, Regent’s Park
Charles and the Macreadys had gone to look at the monkeys. Charles could not visit the zoological gardens without roaring at their antics and mimicking their behaviour. The children found it so amusing and Mr Macready urged him on in booming tones, but I did not enjoy the attention my husband’s tomfoolery attracted at all, and wandered off to procure some ginger beer. Along with the Macreadys we had been accompanied by Augustus Egg, the painter. A small man with an apologetic face whose sentences frequently began, ‘You are right, madam’, or ‘I couldn’t agree more, madam’, which became very irritating after a short while in his company. There seemed very little point in making conversation with such an agreeable man when he had no opposing point of view to make the conversation interesting. Charles, however, who always thought that he was right, could find no fault with a fellow who would not counter his infallibility.
Georgina, who went everywhere with us now, was once again in our party. Her figure had long since lost its childish roundness and in its place was a womanly sculpture. As the softness of her form had altered so too had the softness of her nature and its place was the coolness of marble, but Mr Egg – who had often visited our home – was never put off by this for one moment and it wasn’t long before it became obvious that he was completely taken with her.
‘She is a most marvellous woman, Mrs Dickens. Yes, that sister of yours is a veritable goddess of hearth and home. It is a lucky man who will make her his wife, yes it is.’ he agreed with himself. He took out his handkerchief and mopped his brow as if just talking about her had caused him to become overwhelmed by the heat of his emotion. Georgie was not moved and remained coolly polite to him, but, undeterred, he trotted by her side throughout the morning and spoke to her with enthusiasm about the ornamental fountains and the variety of wild animals that filled the cages.
While fetching my ginger beer I noticed that Mr Egg had led my sister into the rose garden and I felt my pulse quicken and stood on my tiptoes to see above the hedging and observed that Mr Egg had removed his hat and was on bended knee. Would he really be so bold as to ask for my sister’s hand? Georgie, however, had her back to me and to my frustration, I could not see her features nor guess her response. At last she and Mr Egg came out of the gardens and I adopted an air of nonchalance as I greeted them. Mr Egg remained his same agreeable self and Georgie remained as impassive as ever so I could detect nothing, but when Mr Egg excused himself and said that he was going to find Charles and the Macreadys, I could contain myself no longer.
‘Well?’ I hissed impatiently.
‘Well, what?’ Georgie replied unhelpfully.
‘Mr Egg. Did he ask you?’
‘He did.’
‘Oh, Georgie!’ I planted a dutiful kiss upon her cheek, saying, At last you are to be married.’
‘But I did not accept him.’
The colour drained from my face. ‘You did not accept him? Why ever not? Mr Egg is well placed in society, he has a handsome apartment in Bayswater. You wouldn’t want for anything.’
‘I want for nothing now,’ Georgie replied with indifference.
‘But you want to be wed, don’t you? You can’t mean to stay with Charles and I indefinitely. Of course, you are welcome to do so, but you must have plans of your own.’
Georgie stopped walking and faced me, her countenance filled with determination. ‘Catherine, I know that my presence in your home is no longer welcomed by you, but whether you realize it or not, you need me, the children need me and Charles needs me. In life it is the destiny of some women to marry and the destiny of others to remain single. I have found my place in life and unless Charles asks me to leave, I shall stay as I am.’
Her destiny at that moment appeared to be that I would slap her, but I contained myself and resisted making a scene in public.
My eyes narrowed with resentment. ‘I know what you are up to, Georgie, I am not ignorant of your plans.’
‘I have no idea what you are talking about,’ Georgie replied, with a toss of her head.
‘You have plans to usurp me, don’t you? And you will not give way until you have taken my place in my family’s affections.’
Georgie sighed and prodded the ground firmly with her parasol. ‘Catherine, the morning has already been made wearisome by the company of Mr Egg, I will not argue with you and I will ignore your cruel and unreasonable accusations.’
I heard the familiar call of my husband’s voice and he waved as he approached with Mr Egg and the Macreadys in tow. I fell into a solemn silence as we rejoined them and Mr Egg continued to be so courteous and agreeable for the rest of the day, that no one could have guessed that he had just suffered a stinging rejection.
When it was time for us to leave, Mr Egg climbed into an open carriage with the Macreadys, Georgie accompanied the children, and Charles and I travelled home in our own brougham. Noticing my distraction, Charles who had been humming contentedly to himself, enquired, ‘Is everything in order, my dear? You seem very quiet. Have you not enjoyed the day?’
My lips fixed together tightly as I eyed him with suspicion.
‘Did you know that Augustus Egg had planned to propose to my sister today?’
‘Did he, by Jove?’ he chuckled. ‘Brave fellow! And will she have him?’
I turned and looked out of the window. ‘She will not.’
Charles roared, throwing his head back in amusement. ‘I thought as much.’
‘’Tis no laughing matter, Charles. You must tell her. Tell her to marry him.’
His expression changed to one of sternness. ‘I shall do no such thing. Your sister shall marry when and whom she pleases.’
I gri
pped Charles’s arm in desperation. ‘But can’t you see what she is trying to do? She is trying to push me out, take over my life, my husband, my children. You must tell her to marry him. You must!’
Charles firmly removed my grip on his sleeve.
‘I am damned if I will. You are becoming unhinged, Kate, and if you persist in this madness – and when I say madness, I mean madness – I will be forced to…. I shall have to … to call Dr Bell and … and—’
‘Put me in an asylum, like Isabella Thackeray?’ I spat.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Kate, I never meant—’
‘That would suit you very well, wouldn’t it?’
‘—any such thing. Now don’t test me, Kate, I’m warning you—’
‘To erase me from your life like some ill-chosen word in one of your novels.’
‘—or I shall say something I—’
‘To wipe me out as though I had never existed.’
‘Yes!’ he exploded unexpectedly. ‘Yes, it would suit me. I should never have married you. There! I have said it at last. Let it be out in the open once and for all. We are ill matched and there are no two ways about it. You are fat, you are clumsy, you are lazy. Heavens above, woman, if it were not for Georgie the whole house would have come tumbling down around our ears and you would not even have noticed. How I have endured a life with you all this time is a miracle.’
He banged the roof of the cab and ordered the driver to stop.
‘Where are you going?’ I cried.
‘I can no longer hold out under such provocation. I am walking home,’ he said with weary regret, ‘lest I say worse than has already been said.’
He got down from the cab and it pulled away leaving me to call after him. The cab continued through the grounds of The Regent’s Park and I sat in a state of shock. Approaching the North Gate Bridge, the lake came into view and I signalled the driver to stop.
‘Mr Dickens expressly ordered me to take you home, ma’am,’ the driver said taking off his hat and scratching his head.
‘I wish to walk,’ I explained, taking a coin from my purse.
‘It seems to me, ma’am, that this is not the sort of place for a lady like yourself to be out alone, and the day is almost drawing to a close. It will soon be dark.’
‘I am not interested in your opinion, driver. Now take this for your trouble and leave me be. Please!’
The final word held a note of hysteria and, realizing he was beaten, the driver shrugged his shoulders and drove away. I wandered across the bridge and walked down to the edge of the lake where I stopped and stared down at the dark waters that danced hypnotically, repulsed by the moving reflection of my disjointed features.
‘No wonder he despises me. I am ugly, I am useless.’ I pulled and twisted my string of pearls in anguish.
A chorus of voices echoed within my head.
You are becoming unhinged, my dear.
I shall not marry anyone.
She is a fine woman, yes she is.
I shall have to call Dr Bell and … and….
I twisted the pearls tighter and tighter and suddenly the necklace snapped and the pearls tumbled one by one into the water. I took another step closer to the water’s edge.
‘I would not go in there, ma’am. It is dirty and cold. Come. Come away with me and I will look after you.’ His voice was gruff, as if it were full of city smog and he smelt of lamp oil. He wrapped his cloak around me and strangely I did not resist but leaned upon him, grateful of someone to bear the weight of all my troubles. Ladies dressed in all the colours of the sunset passed us by. They whispered to one another and acknowledged my companion, who nodded in return. In a moment the sun had faded, darkness fell and I remembered nothing more.
I awoke to the sound of a voice.
‘Don’t try to get up, ma’am, you are still very weak.’
I focused upon my surroundings and recognized them as my bedroom.
‘Who brought me here?’ I asked.
The voice answered and I realized that it was familiar too. It belonged to Dr Bell.
‘The driver returned for you, Mrs Dickens, and a good thing it was that he did. I understand that you were about to take a very foolish step.’
He gently lifted my wrist, feeling for a pulse and put his other hand upon my brow. My eyes slowly flitted about the room and a feeling of sudden unease took hold of me. Something was not right. Something had changed. Charles’s shaving brush and comb were gone from the washstand. I looked across the room and found that the place where his wardrobe stood was now vacant leaving behind only the marks on the wooden floor where it had been. His pocket book of Shakespeare which always sat upon his bedside table had disappeared too.
‘Doctor?’ I sat up, ‘Where is my husband?’
He did not answer me, but instead reached into his old leather bag and began taking out a series of bottles each of which he squinted at, his eyesight not being what it used to be. Finally he settled on one. He peered at it intently, grunted with satisfaction and poured a few drops into a glass of water.
‘Doctor, I asked you about my husband.’
‘Yes,’ he smiled kindly, ‘I know, madam, but take this first – it will calm you a little.’
I gulped it down hurriedly, impatient to hear his explanation. The doctor took the glass from my hand and seeing my determined expression, knew that I would not be put off.
‘Catherine,’ he sighed, ‘I have known you since you were born. I brought you into this world and placed you in your mother’s arms, and if there were anything that I could do to spare you a moment’s sadness then I would do it. I can only tell you as kindly as I can that I am afraid your husband has moved his possessions and set up his sleeping arrangements elsewhere in the house.’
I slowly took in the meaning of his words and then nodded with understanding. It appeared as though my sister had got what she wanted after all, my husband had no further use for me now, it was obvious. I reached for a hairbrush from my bedside table and began to brush my hair.
‘Then I wish to see him, if you will call him, please.’
The doctor hesitated and I raised a conciliatory hand, ‘I know, I know, I must not excite myself. You have my word. But I must know what his intentions are.’
My head began to spin a little and I realized that the sleeping draught was taking effect. The doctor left the room and returned presently with Charles at his side. He avoided my gaze, went straight to the fireplace and began warming his hands.
‘Kate, if this has been some sort of attempt to win my sympathy, I can tell you now that it has not been successfully employed. I have told you before that I will not be held captive to a woman’s emotions.’
‘Charles, I may not have your sympathy, but I think that you owe me some sort of explanation as to what is going on.’
He turned from the fire and appealed to Dr Bell, ‘How much does she know already?’
I leaned forward earnestly trying to catch his eye. ‘I know that you have separated our sleeping arrangements. What more is there to know?’
Dr Bell looked at the glass at my bedside and nodded to Charles before leaving the room.
‘Very well, then, I shall tell you.’ Charles sighed.
‘Catherine … Kate …’ he began uncertainly. ‘That you have been a loyal wife and mother is not called into question.’ He cleared his throat. ‘But I can no longer…. I am finding it difficult to….’ His hands fell to his side. ‘Oh, Lord, I knew that this would not be easy. Kate, I must be honest and tell you that there … is someone else who now holds my affections.’
‘I knew that Georgie would not be happy until she had won you to her side,’ I remarked, bitterly.
He swivelled around abruptly, ‘God, Kate, no! I could never….’
He dropped down on to the end of the bed and held his head in his hands.
‘Her name is Ellen Ternan. She is a talented young actress whom I met some months ago, after admiring her work. I never imagined then tha
t my feelings for her would take on such strength. I’ve tried to stay away from her, God knows I have tried, but….’
‘Then what is to become of us?’ I asked in bewilderment, trying to make sense of the sudden existence of this unknown woman. ‘Or should I say, what is to become of me?’
Charles stood up and walked to the window. His voice took on a more assertive tone. ‘The tenancy on this property comes to an end in three weeks’ time. You may stay on until then, of course. And I will speak to your parents and ask if you might return to them until I find suitable accommodation for you.’
I fell back upon my pillow, taking in what had just been said and realizing that somehow I had always known that this day would come, that she would come – but in whose form I had not known. I had glimpsed her in the gentle nature of my sister Mary, in the charity of Miss Angela Burdett-Coutts, in the majesty of the Queen, in the soft voice of Consuela Swift, in the twisted mind of Madam de la Rue and in the cool authority of Georgina. But how ironic it was that after a lifetime of suspicion, I had not suspected the existence of this woman in his affections at all. I had missed the signs completely.
‘Do the children know about her?’ I asked quietly.
‘The children will do as I tell them to. It is none of their business.’
His harshness toward me I could accept, but his apparent disregard for the children’s feelings aroused all of my maternal instincts.
‘And will there be sufficient room for my children when you find this suitable accommodation?’ My voice had become tinged with sarcasm.
Here I hit upon a raw note. Charles did not answer for a moment and then said with some caution, ‘Georgie and I think … Doctor Bell and I – think that it is best if they stay with me. You are not well at all. When I think what almost happened at the lake, I could not risk their safety.’
The feeling of anger that had lain dormant now rose to the surface, provoked beyond reason.
Far Above Rubies Page 18