Midsummer's Eve (43 page)

“It’s a big constituency. Rather remote and scattered. In Cornwall actually. The people take a bit of knowing. Farmers, fishermen, miners. I’ve had chats with them on the quays and in their cottages.”

He was garrulous which one would expect of a man who hoped to become a Member of Parliament. He was entirely interested in himself and I was glad of that for I did not want him asking me questions.

“They’re a superstitious community. One has to get to know about them, how their minds work, how best one can impress them. Have to make their interests yours. You get to know what is happening in these little places and then you talk of little else … and slip in the propaganda so that they won’t notice. For instance, there was some place where there had recently been quite a big case … well, big for them … about some property …”

“Oh?” I said faintly. “Where was that?”

“Somewhere down there. Somebody had come out from Australia and claimed this estate … rather a large one. But that it seems was old news. What they were all talking about was her marriage …”

“You mean the marriage of the one who claimed the estate?”

“Yes, that’s it. Apparently it was a nice little bit of gossip, and when they’ve got something like that on their minds they just won’t talk about anything else. You have to listen and seem as interested to hear as they are to tell you. It’s the only way of winning their votes. So I stand there saying ‘Really? Did she then? Well, I never did.’ Apparently this woman who’d just got hold of the mansion was marrying some chap from the Manor which was a sort of rival estate. Could have knocked them down with feathers, they kept saying. I didn’t get to see the married pair. But that’s what I’m telling you. You have to listen and hope to get in what you’re really there to … I just listened and told them how amazing it was. Well, that’s an example of what you have to do.”

“Was the name of the place … Cador, do you remember?”

“Why, that’s it. Do you know it?”

“Yes,” I said flatly. “I did.”

“Grand sort of place. So was the other one, this Manor. I reckon that was what they were all so excited about … linking up the two …”

I felt rather dizzy with the shock. I heard myself say, “So you’ll be standing at the next election?”

He went on talking but I was not listening.

I was thinking: So Rolf has married that woman. “The chap from the Manor.” How could he? But everything was clear now. I had been right. He would do a great deal for Cador.

It had taken this to tell me how much I loved Rolf. In spite of everything, more than anything I wanted to be with him. I might have married him, but fate had conspired to take him from me. No, that was not true. I was the one who had broken it off.

How I wished now that I had married him! Even if he had been in the woods that Midsummer’s Eve; even if he wanted Cador. I had made excuses for Uncle Peter and I had seen the good amongst what was deplorable in his character. But I had made no allowances for Rolf from whom I had expected perfection.

I could talk to no one of this. I felt wretchedly empty. I could never be happy again.

For some days Helena did not notice that there was anything wrong with me. Then at last she said: “You look pale, Annora, and very unhappy. Is it because of the children?”

I looked at her in astonishment and she went on: “Oh, I know how you love them, how you’ve always loved Jonnie. I felt that you often wished he was yours. Now I have two and you have none.”

“Oh, Helena,” I cried. “What an idea! I am so glad for you. I think all turned out beautifully. And now you have little Geoffrey. You are lucky, Helena.”

“I know. I feel it isn’t fair. Everything came out so well for me, didn’t it? I never told you, but I saw John Milward some time ago. He talked to me. I was never sure how I should feel if I saw him again, and I felt nothing … nothing at all. I had to keep reminding myself that he was Jonnie’s father. He said how sorry he was that it had turned out the way it had. But I couldn’t be sorry. He was very weak really … and now it has all worked out with Matthew. Matthew is wonderful. My father says he can be a great politician. It is what he really wants to do. I don’t think John Milward would ever have been anything without his family. Matthew is thinking of writing a book about chimney sweeps. He feels very strongly about that and my father thinks it is a good idea.”

“I’m so glad it has turned out like this for you.”

“I wish it could for you. Perhaps it will. Joe Cresswell is a very nice young man.”

“I know.”

“And he is very fond of you.”

I wanted to shout at her: But I want Rolf. I’ve always wanted Rolf. I was too stupid to see how important he was to me.

The idea of his living at Cador, which he had always wanted, with that woman, was more than I could bear. It made me angry and then desperately unhappy.

I saw Joe before he went back to the North.

We went again to the Sailor’s Rest.

He said: “I’m going back tomorrow, Annora. But I shall come up again. I was thinking you might like to pay us a visit. My parents would like to see you.”

“Perhaps I will, Joe.”

“It’s a different life up there, you know.”

“I’m sure of it.”

“I’ve thought a lot about you. I believe you think I am rather weak.”

I was silent for a moment, then I said: “What I think is, Joe, that if you want something, you have to take some action; you have to get it. You can’t let it slip through your fingers. If you do, you’re going to regret it all your life.”

I was speaking for myself really. Joe still had a chance. I had lost mine.

He said: “I shall come back, Annora. Think of me … and then we’ll meet again.”

I knew what he was suggesting. There was a bond of friendship between us. We had always had a fondness for each other. Could it grow to something stronger?

I was thinking: Is this a way of escape? Could I go to the North of England among more hardy, down-to-earth folk? It would be a complete breakaway.

I liked Joe. I was not in love with him by any means. Helena had not been in love with Matthew when she married him. But I was not Helena … and I loved Rolf.

But she had loved John Milward. But had she really? What was it she had said recently: “I don’t think I really loved John so much as what he stood for. He was the only one who had taken notice of me and I loved him for that. He was a symbol to me that I could be attractive too. Perhaps that was what I felt for him and when he deserted me because of his family I thought I was heartbroken because of him … but it wasn’t really so. It was because of what he stood for. Then there was Matthew. I didn’t love him at all but he was so good to me … he’s such a good man. I can help him. I’m happy with him … happier than I ever thought I could be after John had gone.”

That might be how it was with her. It was different with me. I wanted Rolf. I always had. I had thought of him constantly. I had compared everyone with Rolf and they had all seemed wanting.

How greatly he had desired Cador … always. He loved the place. I could see how much he had wanted Cador, just as Uncle Peter wanted power.

They were the sort of men who set out to get what they wanted, letting nothing stand in their way.

John Milward … Joe Cresswell … they were different.

Now I had to stop brooding. Rolf was lost to me forever and I had to go on.

How?

Joe? I could be very fond of Joe. I had liked his parents. I was very fond of his sister Frances. I could picture quite a happy life with Joe … if I could forget Rolf. I
had
to forget Rolf.

I could devote myself to work in Frances’s Mission. That would be satisfying.

I wanted to start afresh. I had to, because all the time I had been really waiting for Rolf. What I had in my heart been hoping he would do was come to London to woo me, to insist on my returning to Cornwall.

I must have been foolish. I had deserted him on the day I was to have married him and I could not have dealt him a more humiliating blow. It was more than a man could endure.

Besides, it had been Cador he wanted; and he had that now.

Let me be sensible, I prayed. I have been telling Joe that he should be. Now let me tell myself.

I had an income from my mother. I was not rich but on the other hand I was not poor. I was in a position to make a decision. I could not go on drifting.

I must sever all links with Cornwall, I told myself. I will sell Croft Cottage, and then there will be no more temptation to return to it.

When I told Uncle Peter and Aunt Amaryllis of my plans, Uncle Peter said: “You should write to Tamblin. He can see to everything.”

“No,” I said. “I want to arrange the sale myself.”

“My dear girl, you’d have to stay there. You wouldn’t want to do that … not in that little cottage.”

“But I should, Uncle Peter.”

“Wouldn’t you feel unhappy being so close to Cador?” suggested Aunt Amaryllis. “All those memories.”

“I do want to do this my way. I don’t want to leave it to Mr. Tamblin. I want to be there once more … just to say my final farewell to the old place.”

“Well, if you want to do it your way, you must,” said Uncle Peter. “But remember it might not be easy to find a buyer.”

“I expect you want to go through the things you have stored up there,” said Aunt Amaryllis. “And I daresay you’ll want to keep some of them.”

“Yes, that is so.”

“You can’t go alone,” said Uncle Peter, frowning.

“I’ve thought of that. There is a young woman at the Mission. Her name is Kitty. I took quite a fancy to her. I thought I would employ her as a maid and take her with me.”

“A girl from the Mission!” cried Uncle Peter. “What sort of girl?”

“She’s had a hard life. She came up to London from the country. She had a job as maid or something. The master of the house was offensive and the mistress turned her out. Frances is looking for a good situation for her.”

“You want to be careful whom you employ,” said Uncle Peter.

“I am being very careful. I like Kitty. Frances says she is a good girl.”

“Frances is apt to have a rose-coloured view of her inmates.”

“I think Frances is very shrewd,” said Aunt Amaryllis.

“In any case, I’ve made up my mind,” I told them. “I shall go down to the Mission and put this proposition to Kitty and Frances. And if they are agreeable I shall employ her. I’ll get some clothes for her. I think she would like to go to the country for a while.”

Aunt Amaryllis nodded, with tears in her eyes.

I went that very day to the Mission and put my proposition first to Frances.

She was delighted with it. “Just what Kitty needs,” she said. “She took a great fancy to you from the day she saw you. I’ll send for her. She’s peeling potatoes in the kitchen.”

Kitty arrived and when I told her what I had in mind, her delight was a joy to see.

“It will be very quiet where I’m going,” I warned her. “Just a little cottage on the edge of an estate which was once mine. There won’t be any other servants.”

“When do we leave, Miss Cadorson?” asked Kitty.

Frances embraced us both—a rare demonstration for her.

“You’ve made a good choice,” she said.

And in spite of what lay before me my spirits lifted a little.

Kitty and I travelled part of the way on the railway, which was a novelty to us both. It seemed so wonderful to travel in such an exciting fashion, but of course the railways were encroaching all over the countryside at this time. It was a great innovation, but nothing could be wholly good, it seemed, and many stagecoach drivers were being deprived of their livelihoods. I had heard many a sad story of their fates from Frances and Peterkin.

We stayed at night at an inn at Exeter and there heard from the landlord that the railways would in time be the end of the old coaching inns.

We travelled the rest of the way by coach which dropped us in the town. Mr. and Mrs. Tamblin were there to meet us for they had been warned of my coming. They both greeted me warmly and I introduced Kitty as my maid. She was very demure and I could see how excited she was. She had told me on the night before that she had never had such an exciting adventure in her life and had never thought to travel in a real train. She stood at the window of the inn and inhaled the fresh country air.

I felt very pleased that I had been able to do something to make her so happy. Mrs. Tamblin told me that she had had certain things taken out of store and put into Croft Cottage, so it could be lived in right away. Then I could decide what other things I wanted. She herself would come along with me to the storage warehouse and explain everything to me. But first we were going to spend a night with them. We could start sorting everything out in the morning. She knew how tired and hungry we must be after that long journey.

“And you travelled on the train!” she cried, looking at us with wonder. I think she thought we had taken our lives in our hands to travel in such a strange contraption.

The Tamblins’ carriage had been waiting for us and in a short time we arrived at their house. I was ushered into my bedroom and Kitty was to sleep in a little dressing room attached to it.

“Now you wash the journey off you and then come down to eat. I’ll go and see that they get it on the table.”

So I did.

Kitty was given a meal in the kitchen and I sat down with the Tamblins.

“It is good to see you back,” said Mrs. Tamblin. “I was hoping you might come when orders were sent to see about the repairs to Croft Cottage.”

“Is it now in good order?”

“In perfect order. It’s a pleasant little place,” said Mrs. Tamblin.

“Your mother did well to buy it,” added her husband.

“Do you think I shall find a buyer quickly?”

“Property is not going all that quickly now and it is rather remote. A lot depends on luck.”

“Perhaps you will like it so much you’ll change your mind about selling,” said Mrs. Tamblin.

I was silent.

“I was wondering,” she went on, “how you’d feel about being so close to Cador.”

“I don’t know … yet.”

“What a change in that place! Isaacs is very worried about the way things are going. I saw Mrs. Penlock the other day. She was near to tears.”