Seven for a Secret (43 page)

He went on: “The Lanes lived on the estate. The father, Jack, was one of the gardeners; he had two daughters, Lucy and Flora. Lucy went to London to work as a nursemaid; Flora was the younger. Jack Lane died and his wife stayed on at the cottage and Flora was employed in the house here. She wanted to be a nursemaid like her sister, and when a child was about to be born it was decided that she should become his nurse. In due course a son was born at St. Aubyn’s.”

“You,” I said.

“Crispin was born,” he said.

“You must hear from the beginning. The parents, as you know, were not very interested in the child. They were glad to have a son as most people are, particularly in their position, to carry on the name and inherit and all that. But they were more interested in the social life they led. They were rarely in the country. Had they been devoted parents, this might have been discovered in the beginning.

“One day, Lucy came home. She was in deep trouble. She had left her post in London some weeks before and had been living on the little money she had saved, and now that was gone. She was going to have a child. You can imagine the consternation in that cottage. The father was dead; there was the mother and Flora who was in service in St. Aubyn’s, preparing to take care of the child which was about to be born.”

He stopped and I knew that he was reluctant to go on. He seemed to steel himself.

“Lucy,” he said, ‘was a strong woman. A good but trusting young woman.

She was like many before her. She had

listened to promises, been seduced and deserted. A not unusual predicament for a girl to find herself in, but no less terrifying for that. Such girls were ostracized and when they were without means their position was desperate. Can you imagine the mother’s anguish?

They had been living in that little cottage among a small community for years, proud of their independence and their respectability, and now here was the daughter, of whom they had been so proud because she had had a fine post in a grand London house, come home bringing disgrace with her in which they would all share. “

“She had the child, then?”

“Yes. But they could not keep it a secret for ever. They thought they would do so until they made some plan for the future, Mrs. Lane had practised midwifery at one time and it was easy to manage the birth.

The big problem lay before them. They could not keep a child hidden for ever. They thought of leaving the place and going to London, where Flora and Lucy would find work while their mother looked after the child. That was what they decided. One thing was certain. They could not remain in Harper’s Green to face the scandal. “

“What a terrible position for them!”

“They hesitated. There were times when Mrs. Lane thought of going to Mrs. St. Aubyn and asking for help. She fancied that she and her husband might be slightly less shocked than some of the inhabitants of Harper’s Green. And then this extraordinary thing happened.”

He paused, as though he found it difficult to go on.

“Crispin was now a few weeks old. Flora was his nurse. And then, suddenly, there came this way out of their troubles. It was macabre in the extreme … but it offered a solution. And, remember, they were desperate people.

“You have seen Flora and you know the distressing state of her mind. I think she must always have been a little simple. Perhaps she should

never have been given the charge of a child. But she had always been devoted to children and many a mother in the village had allowed her to look after her children because she loved them so much. They said she was a born nurse and mother. Of course, we haven’t seen her as she was then. We only know the poor deranged creature she has become. Gerry Westlake, son of one of the local farmers, began to take notice of her.”

“I remember him. He came here, some little time ago. He went out to New Zealand, I believe.”

“Yes, that was soon after it happened. Gerry was an energetic young man-little more than a boy. He was very interested in football and was practising throwing and kicking a ball about wherever he went.

That is the story I heard. He used to do odd jobs at St. Aubyn’s and he saw Flora there. He used to whistle to her and she would come to the window to look out. He would throw the ball at her and she would throw it back to him. She would go down and stand by watching him kicking his ball. He would explain to her the importance of the manner in which he kicked it.

“It is extraordinary what happened. Remember, they were very young, both of them. Flora was flattered by Gerry’s attention and was or pretended to be thrilled to share in the ball games with him. She would throw as he told her and catch and hope for his applause. If you think of those two-children, really-you can see how it happened.

“Then came the fateful day. He whistled to her. You can picture him -standing there looking up at the window. It was open and she looked out. She had the baby in her arms. She said: ” I’m coming down. ” And she called to him, as he had so often called to her, ” Catch! ” It must have seemed like a great joke to her then. Gerry must have looked up startled. She threw the child down to him.”

I caught my breath in horror.

“Oh no, no!” I cried.

He nodded.

“Gerry realized too late what she was doing. He made an effort to catch the child. But he was too late. The child fell on to the stones of the terrace.”

“Oh … how could she have done such a thing!”

“It’s hard to imagine. She wanted to amuse Gerry. She thought he would easily catch the child and that would make it seem like a bit of fun between them. It did not occur to her that he could fail to do so.

“Flora dashed out to the terrace and picked up the child. He was wrapped in a thick shawl and appeared to be unharmed. Flora must have been overwhelmed by relief. Poor Flora! That relief was short-lived.

Gerry ran home. He would have shared Flora’s relief and I have no doubt he wanted to put himself as far away as possible from the scene.

Flora took the baby up to the nursery and told no one. Imagine her shock when she realized that the child’s ribs were broken. He died that night.

“Flora was dazed. She did not know what to do, so, as she did in all moments of stress, she went to her own home. Her mother and Lucy were in a state of terror. Flora had killed her charge; her sister had an illegitimate child. They could never have visualized such disasters overtaking them. This was something from which they could see no means of escape.

“Desperately they looked for a way out and then it presented itself to them. Most young babies look alike. Crispin’s parents had shown very little interest in him. You can see what they were thinking. They buried Crispin.”

“Under the mulberry bush?” I said.

“And Lucy’s baby went to St. Aubyn’s in his place.”

“You mean … you are that baby?”

He nodded.

“When did you know?”

“On my eighteenth birthday. Lucy my mother told me. She thought it only right that I should know. Before that it had never occurred to me

that I was anyone but Crispin St. Aubyn and that the estate would be mine. I loved the place.”

“I know. And … this is the secret never to be told. And the seven magpies … they were put into the nursery to remind Flora that she must never tell.”

“Poor Flora! It turned her brain. It was soon after that when she became as we know her. Lucy looked after her always. You know Lucy took over the care of me and became my nurse. Flora came back to the cottage. She was acting very strangely by that time. It is ever on my mind.”

“That this place does not really belong to you. You are afraid that someone will discover this?”

“There was a time when someone did come near to that.”

“Gaston Marchmont,” I whispered, a terrible fear coming to me.

“He was a rogue,” said Crispin.

“He deserved to die. He forced the secret from Flora. She could have gone on to the end of her life believing she was back in the past before it happened, that the child still lived. That was what she thought until he came along. You see what he has done to her … to Lucy? He guessed there was some secret there, some connection between me and that cottage, and he was determined to find out. He married Tamarisk for what he could get and then he saw that he could get much more than he had even believed at first. He stole the doll and he blackmailed poor witless Flora. He had seen that silly picture. She should never have had it. But Lucy thought it would be a constant reminder to her never to tell. You must forgive Lucy. She is my mother. She wanted everything for me. Her greatest joy was to see me master of the estate.”

“But it does not belong to you, Crispin.”

He shook his head vigorously, as though he could thrust such a fact away.

He went on: “He made poor Flora tell him. He threatened what he would do to the doll if she did not. The

shock brought reality back to her and he had the secret. And he died.

”

“You know who did it, Crispin?” I asked fearfully.

He turned to me and smiled gently.

“I know what is in your mind. I know how much you love me. No, sinner that I am, I did not kill Gaston Marchmont. You have to know everything. I see that now. These secrets are no help to us, and now you know so much you must know it all. Flora was in a terrible state of distress. She had betrayed the secret and at the same time this had brought home to her what had really happened all those years ago, which she had been deluding herself into thinking was just an evil dream. She had killed her precious charge in a moment of idiotic frivolity. She had done it to amuse Gerry. He had left for New Zealand soon after that. No doubt he thought the baby had lived. He, of course, knew nothing of what had happened. But the fear of those moments when the child lay on the ground may have had something to do with his decision to get away from the scene. Flora was in a state of mental disorder and Lucy thought it best to have the doll to delude her into thinking the child still lived. To Flora, when she realized that she had betrayed the secret and that the doll was simply a doll, there seemed only one way of making sure the secret was never told.

“It is amazing how she could have done this, but she did. I believe people such as she is can be very single-minded and plan with a calm precision, which is remarkable. She went to St. Aubyn’s. She knew the house well from the days when she had lived there. She went to the gunroom and took the gun, and then to the shrubbery to lie in wait for Gaston Marchmont. Most of the family came through the shrubbery when returning to the house. It was a short cut from the stables. He came and she was there. She shot him. Then her careful planning seemed to desert her. She left the gun on the ground and ran back to the

cottage. Lucy was in deep distress. She was frantic, wondering where Flora had gone, and when she returned, drew from Flora exactly what had happened.

“Lucy’s one idea was to keep the secret. Her dream was that I should have St. Aubyn’s. It would be a compensation for all they had suffered.

I was her son, remember. She went back to St. Aubyn’s that night. She found the gun and buried it-unfortunately, not very efficiently. It was Flora who killed Gaston Marchmont, Frederica. Please . please understand. This is a secret which must never be told. “

I was silent for some time, bewildered by all I had heard. In spite of my horror, there was a certain relief. There were no longer secrets between us.

I was picturing it all. Flora, throwing the baby down, her agony when she realized what she had done; I could imagine those three desperate women seeking a way out of their intolerable situation; I could feel Lucy’s triumph when she saw a glorious future for her son; I pictured their burying the poor broken body of the baby Crispin. I could imagine Flora’s demented state; I could see the picture of the seven magpies, set up to remind her of the awful consequences if the secret were revealed. And she had told it. Gaston had forced her to tell the secret, and in her simple mind there was only one solution: to kill him before he could tell the secret which must never be told.

I said: “Crispin. This place does not belong to you.”

“But for me it would be nothing now. I have made it what it is.”

“Still, it is not yours. You are not the heir to this place.”

“No. Lucy is my mother. My father is unknown to me.”

“Lucy would know him,” I said.

“But the fact remains. What shall you do?”

“Do? What do you mean?”

“Crispin … I must call you Crispin.”

“I never had another name.”

“It will always be there, this knowledge, even though you have told me.”

He did not answer and I went on: This place does not belong to you.

That is so, isn’t it? “

He did not wish to admit it . but it was true and he knew it.

“I think you will never be happy with what is not yours by right.”

“I am happy. This place has always been mine. I could not imagine it otherwise.”

“If Gaston Marchmont had lived …”

“He did not live.”

“If he had, he would have brought this to light. And then…”

“Of course he would. That was his motive. He must have had some inkling. Flora must have betrayed something. And then the fact that the doll was Crispin to her was significant. He would have claimed the place on Tamarisk’s behalf and if he had succeeded, it would have had a very-short life.”

“But it is Tamarisk’s. She is the daughter of the house and there is no living son.”

He said: “If this came out it would be disastrous. Think of the livelihoods of all the people on the estate. Everything would go. You know the secret now. No one else must. 1 am glad you know. You are right. We don’t want secrets from each other. There must never be any more.”

“I am glad you see it that way.”

“There is the problem of Flora. I don’t know what we can do with her.

Lucy is afraid for her. You see how that man tackled her. It has upset her. She’s changed. “

“She must have his death on her conscience as well as that of the baby.”

“She doesn’t want the doll any more. She seems to have come to the conclusion that Crispin is dead and the doll is but a doll. When she