* * *
It was around noon when Doctor Henderson rode into Hawkins Grove. Matilda recognized him immediately from the black bowler hat he was wearing. For as long as she could remember Clyde Henderson had worn that same hat.
“Matilda,” said Doctor Henderson as he looked at the beautiful young woman standing before him.
“Doctor Henderson, it is good to see you again.”
He climbed down from his horse, tied it to the rail and then stood looking at Matilda.
“Have I changed that much?”
“You certainly have.”
Matilda was delighted to see the doctor as he and his wife were the only real friends that the family ever had.
“How is your wife, Mr Henderson?”
“Very well, and she will be chuffed to hear that you are home. You can expect a visit.”
“I’ll look forward to it, Mr Henderson. What brings you all the way out here? No one is ailing?”
Doctor Henderson removed his hat and the expression on his face changed to one of a more solemn nature. “Is your mother in, I wish to talk to her.”
“She is in the conservatory,” said Matilda as she turned and walked back into the house followed by the doctor.
The conservatory was one of Lillian’s greatest pleasures. It was her escape from that other world, the world of apprehension and fear. Even though she tried to bury the past in her mind, it would surface every now and then and torment her, just as it was doing now. She was watering some of the exotic plants when the doctor and Matilda walked in. Her body trembled slightly at the sight of the doctor.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Mary.”
“Yes, Mr Henderson?” Lillian looked at the doctor.
“Arthur Langley passed away last night.”
Lillian turned her face away from the doctor and Matilda. She didn’t want them to see her pain. Even though she hadn’t seen her father in eighteen years, his death struck deep into her heart. She poured some more water out of the watering can onto the plants. The doctor stood quietly, waiting for a response. Matilda looked at the doctor and then across at her mother, she was somewhat puzzled as to why the death of Arthur Langley should concern her mother.
“When is the funeral?” asked Lillian with a slight tremor in her voice.
“It is Wednesday at eleven o’clock. He is to be buried near the house.”
Lillian put the watering can down and reached for her cane that was leaning up against the wall. Her fingers didn’t seem to have any strength in them as she tried to take the weight off her bad leg. She stumbled. Matilda quickly reached out and held onto her mother.
“Mother, are you all right?”
“Yes,” replied Lillian. “It seems we have a funeral to go to.”
“My wife and I will be attending the funeral. Maybe we could drive out together?” said Doctor Henderson.
“That would be nice, Mr Henderson.”
“Till the funeral then. I will see myself out,” said Doctor Henderson. He sat his hat back on top of his head, adjusted it slightly and then inclined his head towards them as a gentleman should.
“Thank you, Mr Henderson,” said Lillian.
Matilda continued to hold onto her mother as she led her back into the sitting room and sat her down on the settee.
“Would you like a cup of tea, Mother?”
“Yes, that would be nice, dear.”
As Matilda made the tea her thoughts went back to the incident in Gladstone, with the drunken man named Frank O’Connor. She knew that he worked at Langley Park, and now mother wanted to go to a funeral there. What was the connection between her mother and Langley Park?
Matilda poured out the tea and then sat down next to her mother. “I don’t ever remember you leaving the farm. Why now? Why do you want to go to this funeral?” Matilda had decided that she needed to be direct if she was going to get any answers from her mother.
“It’s something I have to do.”
“A family shouldn’t have secrets,” said Matilda.
“Sometimes secrets are kept for a reason.”
“Surely, I’m old enough to understand.”
“Yes, you are,” said Lillian as she took a sip of the tea. “But it is better that it remain so for the moment. I don’t do this lightly, Matilda, but it is because of you and William that I keep it to myself.”
“Is there anything I should fear, Mother?”
“My dear, there is nothing you should fear,” said Lillian as she looked at her daughter and silently prayed to herself. She thought of her brother and what he might do if he found out she was alive, found out that Matilda was her daughter. Already, Robert had been alerted. Maybe fate was beginning to take a hand in this and there was no way that she could stop it.
Jim was uneasy about going to the funeral, about being on the Langley property and standing near the likes of Robert Langley and Frank O’Connor. It would only add to the uneasiness that he had been feeling lately. But Lillian was adamant that she and all the family were going to attend the funeral. That evening Lillian fussed over all of them as she gathered the appropriate black clothing for them to wear, and then spent the next two days sewing and repairing some of the clothes. William had out-grown most of his clothes so she had to alter a pair of Jim’s trousers for him to wear. Then she made up a black veil for Matilda to wear with her hat, it was important that her face not be seen, as Robert and her mother would instantly recognize her features.
“I get the feeling that you are somehow enjoying this,” said Jim, backing up to the fire.
“It’s been a long time, Jim. How many times have I wanted to go and see my mother and tell her I am alive and well and that she has two fine grandchildren?”
Jim could feel the radiant heat through his clothes from the blazing fire. “If she sees Matilda’s face she will know in an instant.”
“She does look so much like me,” sighed Lillian, stopping what she was doing and blankly staring into the air.
“More like a spitting image,” replied Jim.