Sea of Lost Love (13 page)

“I'm so pleased you agree.”

“If you're happy, darling, I'm happy.”

“We'll find a way to save Pendrift. I know we will.”

“I'll never forgive Monty for betraying us all. He's left one hell of a mess behind him.”

“A widow and two fatherless children, too,” said Julia.

“They'll survive. Richard will sweep them up to that castle of his. But what about us?”

“Let's not think about it, darling,” Julia urged, leading him to bed. “Let's get some sleep. Everything always seems worse when one is tired. Let's lie together and take comfort from each other. I thank God it wasn't you, or one of the children. I'm so grateful that we're alive and together. Nothing else really matters but our family.”

They lay in the darkness, their arms entwined as they had so often lain in those early years of marriage before the children had come to squeeze in between them. Julia nuzzled her face into his neck, and he stroked her hair. “What would I do without you?” he said softly. “You're very strong and resilient, darling. I'm lucky to have found you.”

“Don't be silly. We're lucky to have found each other. It'll work out, you'll see. Every cloud has a silver lining. We just can't see it yet. Wait until the sun comes out, then it'll shine so brightly it'll put everything right.”

“When you're around, the sun's always shining, Julia,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I don't tell you as often as I should. But I love you, old girl.”

“And I love you.” She chuckled sleepily. “Silly old man.”

G
od, it's so humiliating!” wailed Celestria, throwing her clothes into her suitcase without bothering to fold them first. Lotty and Melissa lay on the bed watching her, not knowing how to comfort her. “Papa's gone through not only his own savings but Mama's, too. We haven't a penny left in the world. In fact, we're totally skint. That's my inheritance out the window. God, it makes me so mad!”

“But surely your grandfather will bail you out? Isn't he one of the richest men in America?” said Lotty.

“Of course he'll bail us out. He'll bail
Mama
out, but what about me? I had an inheritance, not to mention a happy sum just waiting for the ring and those marriage vows. Now it's all gone! Just like someone set fire to it. You know, Papa hasn't had a job for the last two years. His business collapsed. He's been living off savings.” She pulled her silk dresses off their hangers. “Well, I shan't be needing these anymore if I'm to be a social pariah!” She cast them into a suitcase already overflowing with stockings and shoes.

“You're overreacting, Celestria,” said Melissa calmly. “You'll probably find there's money put away somewhere. Uncle Monty wouldn't leave you with nothing. After all, who does he expect to pay Harry's school fees?”

“Grandpa!” Celestria chuckled cynically. “Papa married money, don't forget. Perhaps he knew he was unreliable all along. Anyway, Uncle Archie telephoned the bank. There's nothing—just a large overdraft. I can't believe Papa killed himself because of that! Can you imagine what people are going to say? The whole of London's bound to be talking about it. Who's going to want to marry the daughter of a suicide who doesn't have a penny to her name?”

“Tragedy will just make you more glamorous,” said Lotty kindly.

“On the contrary. I think they'll all give me a wide berth in case the disease is genetic or, even worse, catching. Take note, Lotty, being poor is very unpleasant.” Melissa looked inquiringly.

“Grandma's taken it very badly,” Lotty said quickly, blushing profusely. “She refuses to believe it. Just sits at the window staring out to sea, hoping he'll walk back up the path as if nothing's amiss.”

“Don't feel sorry for her,” said Celestria, wandering over to the window. “She'll be joining him soon enough.”

She gazed out across the ocean to where low clouds and fog mingled with choppy waves and sea spray. A pair of gulls wheeled on the wind like gliders. “I don't think I'll ever enjoy the sea again,” she said quietly. “I'll always remember it for having taken away my father and bringing us all such unhappiness. The sooner I get to London the better.”

“Why the rush? Harry doesn't go back to school until the ninth of September.”

“Because I can't be here anymore.”

The two sisters remained silent. They'd be returning to London shortly, too: Melissa to the arduous task of finding a husband, and Lotty to her affair with Francis and the decisions she'd ultimately be forced to make. She didn't want to think about them.

“Poor Harry,” said Lotty with a sigh. “How dreadful to lose one's father so young.”

“A boy needs a man in his life, to set an example,” agreed Melissa.

“A fine example our father set,” Celestria scoffed, spraying on perfume before putting it in her spongebag. The scent of bluebells filled the room, but an autumn wind blew in through the open window. “It's all over,” she said, and her voice had a sharp and furious edge. “The summer, our childhoods, Cornwall—everything's been turned on its head. I want to go through Papa's things; that's why I'm leaving. I want to find out what else he was keeping from us. Where he's been running off to for the last two years, supposedly on business. I don't feel I know him anymore.” She placed her spongebag on top of the clothes that lay in a messy heap in the suitcase. “Now, Lotty, you sit on top, and Melissa and I will zip it up. Damned suitcase, it's not big enough.”

It proved an impossible task. Celestria had brought far too many clothes, many of which she hadn't even worn. Finally, she decided to leave all her beachwear in the cupboard. “Where I'm going these shan't be needed,” she said grumpily, watching as at last Melissa managed to fasten the suitcase.

As she stepped into the hall, Soames opened the door holding a silver tray of letters. “Miss Celestria,” he said, eyes falling to the suitcase she had dragged down behind her. “You should have let Warren carry that for you; it looks heavy.”

“It
is
heavy. Full of sorrow, Soames.”

“Indeed.” He cleared his throat. “I have about a dozen letters for you.”

“Really? Probably all saying what a wonderful man my father was.”

“And they are right,” agreed Soames, who had always held Mr. Montague in the highest regard.

She sniffed dismissively and took the letters. “Can you find out train times to London, please. I'll leave this evening.”

“So soon?”

“Don't worry Soames, I'm leaving Mama with you.” Celestria laughed, but Soames didn't find it funny at all.

 

In the drawing room Julia sat smoking over old photograph albums while Penelope did a crossword and Wilfrid, Sam, and Harry worked quietly on a jigsaw puzzle Archie had set up for them on his velvet-topped card table. It was a cozy sight. Had it not been for the tragedy that cast a shadow over every moment of pleasure, Celestria would have relished such a scene of familial harmony. Archie, Milton, and David had gone to play squash with friends who lived on the other side of Pendrift, and little Bouncy was having tea in the nursery with Nanny. Pamela was in bed with Poochi, who, to her intense relief, had begun to nibble on a biscuit.

“I'm returning to London tonight on the sleeper,” Celestria announced on entering the room. “I've received tons of letters,” she added. “I suppose one's father committing suicide isn't a daily occurrence.”

Julia looked up from pictures of Monty as a boy. “Today?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“Is that wise?” She looked at Penelope, whose attention was entirely focused on a clue. “Penelope, do you think it's wise for Celestria to go up to London on her own?”

Penelope raised her eyes over her spectacles. “We're going next week. Why don't you wait and we can all travel together?”

“I can't wait,” Celestria said, flopping into an armchair. She began to flick through the letters as if shuffling a pack of cards. “Do you think I should open them now, or will they make me cry?”

“What does your mother say?” Julia persisted.

“About what?” Celestria chose the one with the prettiest handwriting and tore open the envelope. It was from Mrs. Wilmotte.

“About you going up to London?”

“I haven't told her. Besides, I don't think she cares. She's only thinking of herself. I don't imagine she'll be moving very far from her bed for a long time.”

“Doesn't she rather need you?” Penelope asked, beginning to take an interest.

“I don't think so. She's got her wretched dog, hasn't she? He's eating, by the way. Thought you'd all be pleased.”

Julia noticed an anger in Celestria that wasn't attractive. She wished Archie were there to back her up. What was she going to do in London all on her own, in any case? She hardly had the money to hit Bond Street.

“Look, I know what you're all thinking. I'm not in my right mind. Well, you're right. I'm not. I'm devastated and shocked. Papa's let us all down. We can't have a funeral because there's no body. We can't even confirm he's dead until some bloody court somewhere gives us a death certificate, not that there's anything left anyway. Why he didn't shoot himself or something, I can't imagine. At least then we'd have a body to bury. Yes, I'm angry and upset. Isn't it natural that I should want to be at home? Grandpa will look after us; he's got pots of money, and anyway, if push comes to shove, I'll go and live in New York with them. He was my father for the best part of my childhood, anyway.” She shrugged as Julia and Penelope both stared at her.

Julia was too shocked to speak, but Penelope put down her pen and lifted her chin, taking a slow, deliberate breath through her nose. She took off her spectacles and folded them into her lap.

“Well, my dear. You've made your feelings very clear, haven't you? I should go up to London if I were you and spend some time on your own, to reflect. Perhaps you might direct some of that energy into compassion rather than hate, and remember that it's Monty who's enabled you to have everything you want in life, and spent the last two decades raising you and giving you the best education money can buy.”

“I didn't mean it like that,” Celestria mumbled, looking at her feet.

“I'll get Archie to drive you to the station,” said Julia tartly, hurt by Celestria's callous disregard for anyone but herself. She glanced at Harry, appalled that his sister had allowed herself to say such dreadful things in front of him.

Sensing a suddenly lowered temperature in the room, Celestria decided to walk out on the cliffs alone. She donned a mackintosh and Wellington boots, thrust her hands into her pockets, called for Purdy, and slammed the door behind her. No one understood. Not even Aunt Julia, who had always been so kind. Didn't they realize that the man who had drowned was someone totally different from Robert Montague? He was a man who had squandered his wife's fortune as well as his own,
and
his daughter's inheritance. He was a man who lied. A man who hadn't done a day's work in two years. A man who took regular business trips to Paris and Milan with no business to be done. He was thoughtless and selfish and a terrible coward. He had shattered their lives into hundreds of fragments that no one would ever be able to put back. That man was a stranger; he wasn't her father at all. So where was Monty, the man they all knew and loved? Whatever had happened to him? Had he ever existed? As she trudged along the wet path that wiggled its way around the cliff top like a snake, she knew she had to find out. What's more, her intelligence told her that there must be someone else involved. Someone, somewhere, had driven him to it.

The drizzle that sprayed her face tasted of salt. It wasn't cold, but the damp seemed to penetrate her clothes and cause her bones to ache. Purdy trotted along beside her, nose to the ground, bracing himself against the wind that flattened the fur on his back. Celestria put her head down and stared at the path, her mind pondering her miserable predicament.

Suddenly she heard a voice calling her name. She turned around to see Father Dalgliesh hurrying up the path towards her. Purdy recognized him immediately. He wagged his tail and trotted up to greet him, thrusting his wet nose into the man's coat.

“Father Dalgliesh,” she said, not having expected to see anyone up there on the cliff top.

“Miss Montague, I thought it was you walking ahead. I recognized Purdy before I recognized you in that coat and hat. I've just been with your grandmother.” His glasses were covered in little droplets, and his hat and coat were soaked.

“Don't tell me you didn't take the car?” She screwed up her nose in disbelief.

He shook his head. “I thought a brisk walk in the drizzle would be just the thing to raise my spirits.”

“I thought men of God were always happy.”

“This is a sad time for us all,” he said seriously.

“I know, Papa's in hell. It's sad for him, too!” Father Dalgliesh heard the resentment in her voice and knew that God had brought him to her for a reason. They began to slowly amble together.

“I didn't say he's in hell, Miss Montague.”

“Please call me Celestria. Miss Montague sounds ridiculous!”

“It's God's prerogative to decide where he is, Celestria. There are many things to be considered. Whether it was in fact suicide, whether he was driven to it, whether he was himself when he did it.”

“Oh, I don't think he was himself, whatever ‘himself' means.”

“Why do you say that?” Father Dalgliesh asked. Celestria told him about their visit to Newquay and how her father had been living a lie for the previous two years, perhaps more, for all she knew.

“I'm going up to London to get to the bottom of it,” she said. “Someone, somewhere must know about his affairs. What he's been up to all this time. Aunt Julia thinks I should stay in Pendrift. Aunt Penelope just thinks I'm horrid. Uncle Archie's as useless as an umbrella on a sunny day, and Uncle Milton would rather forget it all with a game of tennis. They don't understand. They don't understand
me.
” Father Dalgliesh heard the desperate cry in her voice, and his heart buckled. In the rain, sodden to the bone, she appeared lost and alone. He stopped walking and looked at her with such compassion that she began to cry. “Oh, dear,” she sobbed. “I'm so sorry.”

“It's good to let it all out,” he said kindly, touching her wet arm.