‘Fanny, do you believe our lives are preordained? That everything that happens to us is merely Fate and that we are powerless to change our destinies?’
This was the most she had spoken since her arrival and I wished to encourage her to continue. I said guardedly, ‘I think some parts of our lives are guided by Fate, or even by Heaven, but we also have the power to shape our own destinies.’
‘I have sinned,’ she said suddenly. ‘And God is punishing me.’
‘I’m sure we’ve all sinned at some time, and you no more than I or any other.’
‘You don’t understand, Fanny. I’ve done very wrong. I’ve forfeited my place in Heaven.’
‘I can’t believe such a thing,’ I said soothingly. ‘Only God can judge that and, if you truly repent of what it is you’ve done, you’ll be forgiven.’
‘You’ve heard of Godfrey’s situation?’
‘Why, no.’ Since leaving New Zealand, I had not thought at all of Mr Godfrey.
‘His father, Sir John, my husband’s stepfather, you know …’
‘Yes, I remember.’
‘… Soon after we arrived at the Cape, he died and Godfrey succeeded to the baronetcy. He’s Sir Godfrey Thomas now. He’s in very poor health and my husband is visiting him at Bodiam at present, but I have refused ever to meet him again.’
I said nothing.
‘He’s entirely base. When he succeeded to the title, he left his mistress, that dreadful servant girl, with their daughter in New Zealand, saying he would send for them. But, Fanny, within a year of his arrival here, he had married someone else. She’s extremely respectable, from a good family, we’re told. And rich … And now, he has four other children.’
I thought carefully of how to reply. Finally, I said, ‘And what does Sir George think of all this?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘But surely he’s discussed it with you?’
‘Not once.’
‘I daresay he’s been much occupied with government business.’
Her eyes were closed now. She said sleepily, ‘Do you remember the poisonous snakes in Albany? And how the Aboriginal children carried them about on sticks? In Cape Town there are venomous snakes, too. The puff adders hide themselves in logs and crevices in the rocks, but the Cape cobras come right inside the house to escape from the heat. And their poison is so deadly it’s fatal almost at once.’
‘Well, there are no snakes in this house,’ I said, ‘so we have nothing to be alarmed about.’
‘I hope it doesn’t sound vain,’ Lucy said as we sat together in my garden in the sunshine, ‘but I must tell you that I’ve had a South African town named after me. Lady Grey it’s called. It’s just a small place in the north-east, in the Southern Drakensberg. Sir George and I made an expedition there and the townspeople asked if they might name their settlement after me.’
I thought that she seemed calmer, though I could not help noticing how she still plucked and picked at her skirts. ‘What an honour,’ I said. ‘They must have liked you very much.’
‘It’s a strange thing but, somehow, when I returned to South Africa, even though I was often lonely, Sir George and I found ourselves extremely popular. When we left for England, we held a farewell levee at Government House and thousands of people came from all over the country, even from as far away as Durban. And when the carriage took us from Government House to the wharf, our route was lined with crowds of people, shouting and applauding, and suddenly, a group of men surged forward, unhitched the horses and pulled the carriage themselves all the way to the port captain’s boat. Then, once we were aboard, all the ships and small boats in the harbour formed a sort of procession, and the crowd on shore cheered and cheered us, and when we finally appeared on the ship’s deck, we were so overcome by emotion that even my husband wept. It seems so odd to think of it now. I felt exactly like a queen.’
And, for a chilling instant, I caught the echo of the words of the fortune-teller in Rio. You will reign like a queen … and slink like a cur.
‘Fanny? Are you awake?’
‘I am now,’ I said, a little crossly.
‘Can I climb in next to you? I’ve tried my best to sleep in my own bed, but whenever I close my eyes, my sins come crowding in on me and I’m afraid.’
Sighing, I sat up against the pillows. Lucy settled beside me.
‘What is it that you’re so afraid of?’
‘I fear for my immortal soul.’
‘Lucy, you surely know that’s only because it’s night. In the darkness, such terrors assume an importance beyond their daytime reality.’
‘No, even in the daylight I’m obliged to stave them off by forcing my thoughts elsewhere. That’s why I like to sketch. It takes my mind from my fears.’
‘Then don’t you think it may be time to confront these fears?’
‘I can’t. I daren’t confide what I’ve done to a living soul, not even you, Fanny.’
‘Whatever you’ve done, I’m your dearest sister. I will always love you.’
‘Not if you know the terrible nature of my sin.’
‘Lucy, I want you to tell me what it is you believe you’ve done.’
‘It’s not a belief, Fanny. It’s a reality. I have done those things I ought not to have done. And now, as the Confessional Prayer says, there is no health in me.’
‘And what does the Prayer go on to say?’
‘I’ve forgotten,’
‘Let me remind you. But thou, Oh Lord, have mercy upon us, miserable offenders. Spare thou them, Oh God, who confess their faults. Restore thou those who are penitent. Aren’t those also the words of the Prayer?’
‘Yes.’
‘That we may hereafter live a godly, righteous and sober life?’
She burst into a storm of weeping and I forced myself not to lose patience with her. The time has come, I thought, when the only way I can help her is to make her confront those demons which appear to possess her.
‘You must tell me now,’ I said, and I heard the severity in my own voice, ‘everything about this imagined evil you say you’ve committed. I tell you honestly that I don’t believe in it.’
For a time, she was silent, but she ceased weeping and seemed to gain some control of her emotions. She pulled nervously at a strand of her hair. ‘Do you remember when Sir George begged me to return to him, that you said Makareta might refuse to leave the Cape? Well, you were right, Fanny. She wouldn’t be unseated from Government House. And then, one day, she came to me and said … said … she was carrying my husband’s child.’
‘What? Surely not? Did you confront Sir George?’
‘How could I? Supposing he said it was true? What would I have done then?’
‘Sir George is at Bodiam now. Is Makareta with him?’
Lucy turned to look directly at me. In a voice barely her own, she said, ‘Makareta is dead.’
‘Dead? Makareta? When?’
‘A year ago.’ She covered her face with her hands. ‘And now, I am even more jealous of her than when she was living.’
‘Then you’re jealous of a ghost.’
‘You don’t know, you can have no idea … the effect her death has had on Sir George. Every day he was in Cape Town, he went to her grave and wept. I followed him secretly, Fanny. I saw it for myself.’
‘Did she die in childbirth?’
‘No.’
‘Then, how? What happened to her?’
‘She … met with an … accident. She died very suddenly.’
‘Lucy,’ I said, consumed with sudden alarm, ‘what are you trying to tell me?’
‘You asked me, Fanny.’
‘I did. And now you must tell me. I swear I will never divulge a word of what you say to any other living being.’
Again she tugged urgently at her hair. ‘I don’t know what possessed me, but I suppose it now to have been the Devil.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘At Government House, we had a native houseboy. To the nati
ves, snakes are sacred; they leave out food and drink for them. But they terrified Makareta. She said the Cape cobra was the Serpent which beguiled Eve in the Garden, that it was entirely evil. You know that in New Zealand there are no snakes of any kind, so before she arrived at the Cape she had never seen one.
‘Shortly after she’d told me she was with child, when she was out somewhere with my husband, I called the houseboy. Since, at the Cape, cobras frequently enter houses to seek relief from the heat, every day it was his duty to rout them out and dispose of them. Such snakes are very dangerous but, like the Minang, he had no fear of them.
‘I told him that I wished the holy presence of a cobra in my house. For his race, this is customary. “Yes, Lady,” he said. “So,” I said, “you will not expel them. You will leave them to seek comfort here.” I indicated Makareta’s bedroom. “Place a saucer of milk outside that room, on the veranda.” Cobras love to drink milk. They are almost blind, but I knew they would be lured by the smell.
‘The boy said, “Very much luck to have snake in house, Lady.” And with great reverence he laid out the saucer of milk.
‘My husband and Makareta came home. Neither of them spoke to me, but they walked together to his study, and then she left him and went to her room. My heart was hammering as I sat pretending to read. At last, there came a scream and then a dreadful shriek. Sir George rushed from his study. Feigning alarm, I ran to join him. “What is it?” I cried. “What’s happening?”
‘He flung open Makareta’s door. She lay on the floor, her eyes closed, her lips blue and her limbs jerking. “She’s having some kind of fit,” I said.
‘Sir George raised her. “Makareta. Makareta, what is it?”
‘“Look out!” I shouted. “Behind you. A cobra.”
‘The snake hissed, a sign it was about to strike. “Get out!” he ordered me, and I ran. But as he dragged Makareta from that room, I saw the cobra spread its evil hood, lash itself forward and strike her again on the leg.
‘“Send for the physician,” he cried. “At once.”
‘I did, but it was too late, as I knew it would be.
‘As soon as Makareta had been pronounced dead, my husband entered that room with his service pistol and shot the cobra. Not once, but four times. It was dead with the first bullet. The others were simply a punishment, a statement of his hatred for the creature that had robbed him of what he loved most in this world.
‘I have killed her, I thought. And, Fanny, that is why I will be denied eternal life … Because I am not repentant. My heart rejoiced — and is still rejoicing — because, at last, she has gone.’ She looked at me and I could not decipher her expression. ‘I willed it,’ she said. ‘I met witchcraft with witchcraft. That is why I am condemned.’
Lucy did not speak again of what she had told me about Makareta and, in truth, I did not know what I could say to her. Then, a week later, she came to me.
‘I have a letter from Sir George,’ she said. ‘He writes from Bodiam to say that, as we returned Home, we passed the Phoebe bringing word, too late, of his reinstatement as Governor of the Cape. He must sail for the Cape within the fortnight … and he has begged me to accompany him.’
‘I see.’
‘And with his letter he enclosed something very precious for me from Aunt Julia Martin. Look.’
She unfolded a piece of watered red silk, revealing a small square envelope. ‘She says I’m to have this as a memento of her.’
‘What is it?’
‘Aunt Julia is a great friend of Mrs Browning — they’ve corresponded for many years. This is one of Mrs Browning letters … in her own handwriting. You may read it in a moment, but first, lift up the flap on the envelope and see what’s written there.’
I peered at the minute scrawl. ‘Pen has just come in …’ I stopped. ‘Pen?’
‘Her son. She dotes on him.’
‘What a very strange name. Pen has just come in with his little friend,’ I continued, ‘who asked him, “Why do they call your mama Ba?” And Pen said, “I am not sure but I believe my mama is called Ba because she is as good as a lamb.” No compliment I ever received touched me so much. You see I am conceited and tell it! Now write, to prove you forgive me — and tell me of your dear husband, of both of you — how you are, what you do. Robert’s love—’
‘That’s Mr Browning,’ put in Lucy.
‘And I am ever, my dear friend, your affectionate Ba.’
‘It’s hard to believe I’ve been given something so precious. I shall cherish it forever.’
‘How very kind of Mrs Martin. It’s a mark of how fond she is of you.’
‘I believe she thinks it will help sustain me if I return with my husband to the Cape.’
I could not help but think Sir George required Lucy to accompany him merely for the sake of propriety, but I said only, ‘And will you go?’
‘I don’t want to. I feel it’s my duty, but … I’m terribly afraid. I … Fanny, please, dearest, dearest, Fanny, I implore you, come to Cape Town with me.’
VII
JOURNAL OF MISS FRANCES THOMPSON
30th April 1860
Today, we set sail from Plymouth for the Cape of Good Hope. Sir George’s recall to the Cape was at such short notice that hasty arrangements have had to be made to accommodate us on the Forte, the flagship of Admiral Sir Henry Keppel, who is going out to take command of the Cape Station. He has relinquished one of his pair of connecting cabins to Lucy and his stateroom to Sir George, while an ante-chamber from Captain Turnour’s rooms serves as my cabin. We are not the only passengers; with us are the explorers, Mr Speke and Mr Grant, on the first leg of their expedition to discover the source of the Nile.
Lucy thinks Mr Grant most unprepossessing but considers Mr Speke quite dashing. She intends to quiz him about his expeditions.
I warned her to be careful that Sir George does not become jealous, but she merely shrugged and said that perhaps it is only justice that he, too, should be made to suffer the pangs of pique.
Though I rejoice to see Lucy in higher spirits, such talk makes me uneasy.
5th May 1860
The sea is calm — not even Lucy is troubled by the motion of the vessel — and my initial annoyance with myself for allowing her to persuade me to undertake this voyage has lifted. Each evening, Mr Speke and Mr Grant play at whist with Sir George, who reminisces with them about his (greatly embellished) early exploits in Western Australia, while Lucy and I promenade about the decks, taking advantage of the clement weather. Tonight, after supper, we were joined in our stroll by the Admiral, who pointed out various features of the Forte. We parted from him at about nine o’clock.
6th May 1860
The Admiral again joined us on our evening promenade. He is very small — at least a head shorter than Lucy — and has bright orange-red hair, but he makes up for these deficiencies by being most entertaining and agreeable. He has travelled all over the world in his naval career, including to New Zealand, and he knows Cape Town very well.
‘Now, as you ladies have spent time in New Zealand,’ he said, ‘I must tell you of an incident that occurred when I was posted aboard the Rainbow. The master, Captain Haus, was a great collector of curios: there were game-cocks secured by the leg to alternate gun-carriages on the main-deck, two Bengal tiger whelps, a ferocious-looking bull-dog as gentle as a lamb, and a monkey free to go where he chose. She was quite the oddest vessel on which I ever served. She’d been on the Australian and New Zealand stations and, on my first night aboard, when I dined with my new Captain, on the removal of the dish-cover I was confronted with the tattooed head of a Maori chief.’
I know that the Admiral meant this only for our amusement but, while Lucy laughed greatly, I was forced to turn away and make an excuse to go below.
12th May 1860
To a thirteen-gun salute, Forte put in at Funchal Bay in Madeira.
‘You’re looking at the top of a huge volcano,’ said the Admiral as we stood at the rail, marv
elling at the steep green mountains before us. ‘We’ll be here for three days, so you’ll have time to explore a little. It has unique plant life which may interest you, Lady Grey.’
20th May 1860
We met up on deck with Admiral Keppel, who tells us we are about two weeks out from Rio. I am hoping that the leg of our voyage from there to Cape Town will be as calm and mild as this, but he says it is unlikely.
As we promenaded, the midshipmen gave us their customary salutes and waves. ‘I see,’ said the Admiral, ‘that the picnic hamper you ordered for the middies in Madeira has entirely won their hearts, Lady Grey. Your enthusiastic admirer over there is my young nephew, my namesake, Harry Stephenson.’
‘They remind me of my brothers,’ said Lucy. ‘Always hungry.’
‘That’s boys for you,’ he said, laughing.
‘Do you have brothers and sisters, Sir Harry?’
‘My poor mama died in childbirth delivering her sixteenth infant, Miss Thompson; only eleven of us survived to adulthood and now we number a mere eight. But young Harry’s mother, Polly, has always been her brothers’ pet. My oldest brother, Albemarle, still seeks her counsel in all things.’
‘Is His Lordship also a naval officer?’ I asked.
‘No, he oversees the estates. He’s as unlike me as it’s possible to imagine. First, he’s tall and lean where I’m short and round. Then, I’m a keen hunter—’ He broke off. ‘Do you ladies hunt?’
‘I love to ride,’ I said, ‘but I don’t care for hunting.’
‘I enjoy it greatly,’ said Lucy, ‘but it was impossible to engage in it in New Zealand. There wasn’t a pack of hounds in the entire country. And, when we were last in Cape Town, my health wouldn’t permit it.’
‘Well, there’s ample horse racing in South Africa,’ said the Admiral, ‘so, sooner or later, it should be possible to organise a hunt. I love the chase but Albemarle is of exactly the same mind as you, Miss Thompson. Hunting, he says, is merely “a fool in a red coat chasing after a rogue in a yellow one”.’
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