Penmarric (71 page)

“You didn’t know him,” said Adrian, “but he knew you. That was how it was. That was the truth. You never really knew him, did you?”

I said carefully to my mother, “He left it all to me, except for some legacies and your annuity. He left me everything. On trust. It’s mine for life and then it goes to my son—or if I have no son, then to one of my father’s male descendants who bears the name Castallack and was alive at the time of my father’s death. That means either Jan-Yves or Jonas—but not Esmond—and I can choose in my will which one of them shall inherit the estate from me.”

She could not believe it. I kept repeating it to her, and still she repeated even my repeated words as if she could not believe her ears. She thought, just as I had, that Jan-Yves would be the chief beneficiary under the will. “So you won’t have to worry about the mine any more,” she said at last, and then exclaimed, “Oh, Philip, I’m so happy for you! But—”

“Yes?”

“I suppose…” She hesitated before adding uncertainly: “You’ll live at Penmarric now, of course.”

“Well, I suppose I should, but—”

“Oh, but Philip, you must! Naturally I’d love you to stay on here, but I do realize it would be quite wrong to expect you to stay at the farm now that this has happened. Now that you have Penmarric—-and the mine … well, you’ll want a son to leave them to, won’t you? You’ll want to get married. I wouldn’t want you to think that you can’t get married and go to live with your wife at Penmarric; you mustn’t be afraid to leave me at the farm. You’re not holding back because of me, are you? Because I’d love you to get married and have children, darling—truthfully, I don’t think anything could give me greater pleasure than that. You do want to get married, Philip, don’t you? You do want to have children?”

“Well, of course, Mama!” I said, laughing. “Have I ever said that I didn’t?”

In truth for the first time in my life I didn’t find the idea of marriage displeasing. I remembered by nephew Esmond and thought how good it would be to have a son, someone whom I could bring up to take an interest in the estate, someone who would love the mine as I did and keep it alive after I myself was dead. I knew I should get married. However, I decided I would wait a little longer until everything was settled, the taxes and legacies had been paid and I knew where I stood financially. There was no hurry. I had waited thirty-one years to get married, so one more year would hardly make any difference.

I went on planning for the future. Soon I was no longer thinking of marriage. The idea of finding a wife had once more slipped to the back of my mind and instead my thoughts had reverted, just as they always did eventually, to the mine.

But it wasn’t just my mine now. It wasn’t simply Sennen Garth, the last working mine west of St. Just. It was the mine I owned and controlled. It was the mine no man would ever close again.

The accountant Stanford Blake told me it would take a great deal of money to keep the mine alive and said I would be surprised to discover that Penmarric was an expensive house to run. He also reminded me that my financial resources were still limited since I could not touch a penny of the capital my father had left me in trust, and advised me to talk to the bailiff and housekeeper so that I could get a clearer picture of the annual expenditures that had to be met.

The very next day I went to Penmarric to talk to Alice Penmar.

“I’m so glad you asked to see me, Philip,” said Alice in her politest voice, “because I was going to ask to see you. I wish to hand in my notice and will leave whenever you find a suitable replacement. I hope that’s not causing you too much inconvenience.”

We were in the drawing room at Penmarric, both of us standing facing each other before the fireplace. She wore black. Her hair was scraped back from her plain face and there were hard lines about her thin mouth. Her eyes, like her grandfather’s, were inscrutable.

“On the contrary,” I said, “that’s most convenient. I had planned to dispense with a housekeeper as an economy and to ask Jeanne to run the house for me instead.”

“Really?” said Alice. “Well, I hope Jeanne can manage. She knows nothing whatsoever about housekeeping.”

“I haven’t discussed the idea with her yet. If she’s unwilling, then I’ll be obliged to find someone to replace you, but I’m more than anxious to economize as much as-possible on household expenditure.”

“Quite,” said Alice.

There was an awkward pause. I wondered, as I had wondered so often before, if anyone would ever know the whole truth about her relationship with my father. Why had he had a stroke? Because the accusations in my ultimatum were every bit as true as I had suspected they were? Or because they were so far from the truth that the very thought of them was too appalling to contemplate? I supposed I’d never find the answers to those questions now. My father was in his grave and Alice wasn’t talking.

“Are you seeking a position elsewhere?” I said tentatively to break the silence.

“Oh no,” said Alice, cool as the iceberg that sank the
Titanic
. “I’m marrying Sir Justin Carnforth and moving to Carnforth Hall.”

I’ve no idea what kind of expression that produced on my face. Stupefaction was probably hardly the word to do it justice.

“The notice is to appear in
The Times
on Monday,” said Alice. “My grandfather will be so pleased to see me settled at last, I’ve no doubt, and I think everything will work out very nicely. Sir Justin, as you know, has been a widower for some years and has actually been anxious to marry me for some time. But the moment never seemed right until now.”

“I see,” I said. I groped for the suitable words. “I must congratulate Sir Justin, when I next see him. I hope you’ll be very happy.”

“Thank you,” said Alice neatly. “I’m sure I shall.”

There was another pause.

I couldn’t help myself. I was too used to saying exactly what I thought to hold the words back. “I suppose,” I said, “my father knew all about this.”

“Oh yes,” said Alice. “We often discussed it. He was most anxious for me to take advantage of such a splendid opportunity, and he used to worry in case I spoiled my chances of becoming Lady Carnforth—spoiled them by delaying, I should say—but I weighed up the situation and decided Justin could wait for a while. And he did, bless him! Wasn’t that fortunate? But then I’m rather good at weighing up situations.”

“Yes,” I said, “I’m sure you are, Alice.”

“I was in love with you once, as you know, but in the end you forced me to see I was wasting my time. Well, that was all right. Every girl should fall violently in love once and chalk it up to experience. So I chalked it up. What else could I have done with a situation like that? Anyway, after a while I got over you and began to count my blessings. I was so privileged being able to keep house for your father. He had such a fine academic mind and I enjoyed his company so much. He worried because he thought people would talk if we dined alone together and so on—he worried especially during the war when everyone was away and we were often on our own at Penmarric—but I told him not to worry. I had the situation weighed up. People might talk, but so long as they couldn’t prove anything nothing they said would matter.” She stopped, then smiled at me. “And nobody ever proved anything,” she said, “and what’s more nobody ever will. I knew I had the situation weighed up correctly… Please excuse me if I leave you now, Philip, but I’m so busy at present and have so much to do. Oh, by the way, you will come to the wedding, won’t you? It’ll be some time in the spring, I expect.” And leaving me still speechless before the hearth, she sailed casually out of the room.

I had seldom in all my life felt so foolish.

Jeanne was reluctant to try her hand at housekeeping, but after I had promised her that I intended to marry before long and that her position would be only temporary she agreed to give the idea a try. After that I spoke to William about reducing expenditure on estate matters, but on the whole I didn’t consider he was much help. His attitude seemed to be that he was already keeping expenditure to a minimum and to economize further would be a mistake. After making a mental note to investigate William’s efficiency further as soon as I could spare the time from the mine’s affairs, I abandoned William and turned my attention once more to Jan-Yves.

“So what do you intend to do with yourself?” I asked him sardonically. “Sit around on your backside and hope I appoint you my heir?”

I’ll say this for Jan-Yves: If he was pressed hard enough he could speak up well in his own defense. When I contrasted this unexpected courage with his panic on the day of my father’s death, I found him an even odder mixture than I had found him before. He was a mass of contradictions. Nothing he did seemed to make sense.

“If you think I like being idle you’re wrong,” he said abruptly. “I don’t want to be a gentleman of leisure on your charity and I’m not afraid to work. If you’ll employ me I’ll work at the mine.”

“In what capacity?” I inquired, never thinking for one moment that he was in earnest. “As an apprentice below ground?”

“If you like,” he said without batting an eyelid. “When can I start?”

We stared at each other. My God, I thought, he’s serious. He really would go down the mine. He’s got more guts than I gave him credit for.

“I’ll start at the bottom,” said Jan-Yves doggedly, “and work my way up—to the count house. I think I could be useful to Walter Hubert, but I’ll see what goes on below, ground first, and if you don’t think I’m in earnest about it why don’t you at least try me to find out how much in earnest I am?”

After a pause I said, “It’s all right—you don’t have to crucify yourself to get back in my good books.”

“I’m not thinking of your good books, I’m thinking of my future! I want to live and work in this part of Cornwall. It’s my home. So why shouldn’t I want to find out all I can about mining, and then work in the family business? I don’t think my decision’s as extraordinary as you seem to think it is.”

“Perhaps not.” I thought about it. I was still inclined to distrust Jan-Yves as much as I had distrusted Hugh, but I was impressed by his offer to begin work below ground and was willing to believe he meant to do an honest day’s work when he was given the opportunity. Besides, the situation at the count house had changed since Hugh had offered his services; Walter Hubert was getting old, and Slater the clerk hadn’t the ability to be more than a mere assistant. If Jan-Yves proved himself at the mine perhaps he could be trained to take over from Walter and become purser one day. “All right,” I said suddenly. “We’ll try it and see what happens. I’ll speak to Trevose about it tomorrow and ask him if he’ll show you the ropes. If he doesn’t object you can start next Monday.”

I still could hardly believe he meant what he said. And when I spoke to Trevose about Jan-Yves’s progress a week later I could hardly believe Trevose meant what he said either.

“Funny about that kid brother of yours,” he said to me as we drank a pint of beer together at the pub. “He’s a plucky little bastard. He doesn’t like that mine and he hates being under the sea and he’s scared stiff of dynamite but he’s game for anything. No airs and graces either. No talking high and mighty as if he was the cat’s bloody whiskers. I like him.”

I was amazed. Trevose seldom admitted liking anybody and was always sparing with his praise. In fact I was so amazed I would have pondered on the miracle for much longer if by that time I hadn’t been so involved with the future finances of the mine. I went to see my bank manager in Penzance presently about the possibility of a loan, but his response was not as positive as it should have been—or so I thought.

“My dear Mr. Castallack,” he said to me apologetically, “I don’t want to be unhelpful, but you do realize, of course, that these are extraordinarily difficult times. I’ll be absolutely delighted to give you half the sum under discussion. With great difficulty I might manage to give you two-thirds. But more than that—well, I’m afraid it’s not possible. And he began rambling about the estate being on trust and the depressed state of the mining industry until I was so exasperated that I left more abruptly than I should have done.

Outside his office on Market Jew Street I decided to cool my anger by going for a walk through the town, through the winding back streets above the harbor and over the hill to the esplanade and Morrab Gardens. I could not believe that even with my inheritance behind me it would be so hard to lay my hands on some ready money. I walked on fuming. My thoughts began to run in a series of “if onlys.” If only I had capital I could draw on. If only I could sell Penmarric and put the proceeds into the mine. If only—but there were a hundred “if onlys” and none of them solved my problems.

I needed money.

I needed a son.

I stopped and stared out to sea. If I could marry a rich woman both my problems would be solved.

I swung around. Before me stood the Metropole Hotel, where I had dined five years earlier with a very rich woman indeed.

Of course! smiled in delight The perfect solution. I would marry Helena Meredith.

And feeling pleased with my inspired idea, I turned, left the sea and walked briskly back to the center of the town, where my chauffeur was waiting for me with the Penmarric car.

[Richard] used England as a bank on which to draw and overdraw in order to finance his ambitious exploits abroad… “I would sell London,” Richard is reported to have said, “if I could find a suitable purchaser.”

—Oxford History of England:

From Domesday Book to Magna Carta,

A. L. POOLE

Everything was sacrificed to raising money… Everything was for sale.

—King John,

W. L. WARREN

O
F COURSE I WASN’T
such a fool as to imagine I was in love with her, but I was honest enough to admit to myself that I did not now expect to fall violently in love with anyone, and since this was the case I decided I might as well make the best of the situation. I didn’t love Helena, but I liked her and respected her and saw no reason why we shouldn’t have a successful marriage. I might be marrying her primarily for her money, but I was prepared to try hard to make her happy and I did find her attractive. I couldn’t have tied myself to anyone I disliked, not even to save Sennen Garth.