Bride of Pendorric

  But ghosts did not have keys to vaults; they did not tamper with cars.

  My bag was packed. I would go down to the kitchen and tell Mrs. Penhalligan. If Morwenna had been here I should have explained to her that I was staying with the Clements for a while. I didn’t want to disturb Charles. Of course I could tell Deborah.

  I went along to her rooms. She was there reading when I entered, and as she looked at me the serenity faded from her face. She sprang to her feet. “Favel, you’re upset.”

  “Well everything’s been so upsetting.”

  “My dear child.” She took my hand and led me to the window seat. “Sit down and tell me about it.”

  “I’ve just come to tell you that I’m spending a night or two with the Clements.”

  She looked surprised. “You mean the doctor and his sister?”

  “Yes. Mabell’s going to paint my portrait.” Even as I said the words I thought how puerile they sounded. She would know that I was making an excuse to leave Pendorric. She had always been so kind to me and I was sure she would understand if I explained to her. It was insulting to her intelligence not to tell her the truth, I felt. So I blurted out: “As a matter of fact, Deborah, I want to get away. If it’s only for a day or so I want to get away.”

  She nodded. “I understand. Things haven’t been going quite smoothly between you and Roc and you’re upset. And coming on top of all this …”

  I was silent and relieved when she went on: “It’s perfectly understandable. It’ll do you good, dear, to get away for a while. I feel the same myself. This anxiety about Morwenna has been … terrible. And now we know that she’ll be all right we realize how tensed up we’ve been, and we begin to feel the effects of the shock. So you’re going to the Clements.”

  “Yes. Mabell suggested it. I’ve just packed a bag.”

  Deborah frowned. “My dear, I suppose it’s wise.”

  “Wise?”

  “Well, it’s not as though Mabell’s there alone, is it? You see, this is a small place and there’s a lot of gossip. Quite absurd of course, but there it is … and I’ve noticed … and I expect other people have too … that the doctor is rather interested in you.”

  I felt myself flushing hotly. “Dr. Clement!”

  “He’s quite young and people are so ready to talk. You might say there’s always gossip about Pendorrics, and so there is. The men I mean. It’s different with the women. Unfair of course, but that’s the way of the world. The women have to be beyond reproach. Because of the children, my dear. This is ridiculous. It’s really quite absurd, but so is the gossip and the scandal that goes on in this place. You must please yourself, Favel, but I don’t really think that … in the circumstances … it would be wise for you to go to Tremethick.”

  I was amazed; then I remembered the eager friendship of the Clements. Andrew Clement had always shown pleasure in my company; Mabell knew this. Was that why she had been so friendly with me?

  “I’m sure Mabell Clement would understand if it were put to her,” said Deborah. “Let’s go to her and bring her in and explain.”

  We did. Mabell looked surprised when we asked her in, but Deborah put the case very tactfully and, although Mabell quite clearly didn’t agree, she made no attempt to persuade me.

  “It’s this place,” said Deborah, waving a hand. “All small places are the same, I suppose. So little happens that people look for drama.”

  “I shouldn’t have said so little happens at Pendorric,” put in Mabell. “Favel was shut in the vault and Morwenna had a crash that was almost fatal.”

  “Such happenings give people a taste for more drama,” said Deborah. “No, I’m certain it would be wrong. You see, my dears, suppose Favel is going to have her portrait painted, why shouldn’t she come over every day?” She turned to me. “Now if you do want to get away, dear, I’ll take you to Devon for a weekend. Why not? You’ve always wanted to see my house. We could leave tomorrow if you liked. How would that be?”

  “I’d like that,” I said.

  Mabell seemed satisfied, although disappointed that I was not going back with her.

  “What more natural than that we should get away for a night or two,” said Deborah smiling. “Then you’ll be back by the time your husband returns.”

  “It would be a … respite,” I said.

  And Mabell agreed.

  When Mabell had gone, Deborah told Charles what we planned. He thought it was an excellent idea. Rachel Bective was there to look after the twins; and he thought that by the time we returned we should know when Morwenna was leaving the hospital.

  “My dear,” said Deborah, “I don’t see why we shouldn’t leave today. Why wait till tomorrow? If you’re ready to go, I am.”

  I was very eager to get away from Pendorric because it was firmly in my mind that the menace which I felt close to me was somewhere in that house.

  I collected together the things which I should need and Deborah went off to ask Carrie to do the same for her. Then Deborah brought her car round to the west porch, and Carrie came down with the bags.

  As we drove round the side of the house the twins came out of the north door.

  They ran up to the car.

  “Hello, Granny Deb,” said Lowella. “Hello, Bride. We’re going to see Mummy this afternoon. Daddy’s taking us to the hospital.”

  “That’s wonderful, darling,” said Deborah, stopping to smile at them. “Mummy will soon be home.”

  “Where are you going?” demanded Lowella.

  “I’m taking Favel to show her my house.”

  Hyson had gripped the side of the car. “Let me come with you.”

  “Not this time, darling. You stay with Miss Bective. We’ll be back soon.”

  “I want to come. I want to be there. I don’t want to stay here … alone,” said Hyson on a shrill note.

  “Not this time, dear,” said Deborah. “Take your hands away.” She touched them gently. Hyson dropped them and Deborah drove on. I turned and saw Rachel Bective come out of the house; then Hyson started to run after the car.

  But Deborah had accelerated. We turned out of the drive.

  We crossed the Tamar at Gunnislake, and it seemed to me that as the distance between us and Pendorric grew greater, the higher Deborah’s spirits rose. There was no doubt that recent events had depressed her considerably.

  She talked a great deal about Morwenna, and what a relief it was to know that she was going to get well.

  “When she recovers,” she said, “I shall bring her over to the moor. I’m certain it would do her the world of good.”

  I was beginning to see that she thought her moorland air the cure for all sicknesses, whether of the body or mind.

  After passing through Tavistock we were soon on the moor. It reminded me very much of our own Cornish moors, but there was a subtle difference, Deborah told me, and you discovered it when you got to know them well. There was no moor like Dartmoor, she assured me, and insisted that Carrie corroborate this statement—which she readily did.

  Carrie was excited too, and I caught their excitement and felt more at ease than I had since my quarrel with Roc.

  Laranton Manor House stood alone about a mile from the village of Laranton. It was an impressive building—Queen Anne in style—with massive iron gates at the entrance.

  In the grounds was a cottage, and in this, Deborah told me, lived Mr. and Mrs. Hanson and their unmarried son, all of whom worked for her and kept the house in readiness for her return at any time.

  She took out a key and opened the front door of the house, about which clematis climbed. It must have been a lovely sight in season.

  “Ah, it’s good to be home,” she cried. “Come along, my dear. Come in and see the old house which will always be home to me.”

  I met Mrs. Hanson, who expressed no surprise to see her mistress home, and Deborah gave orders in her gentle but competent way.

  “Mrs. Hanson, this is my nephew’s bride. She’s going to stay for a night or tw
o. I want Carrie to get the blue room ready for her.”

  “The blue room?” repeated Mrs. Hanson.

  “Yes, please. I said the blue room. Carrie, put two hot-water bottles in the bed. You know how the first night in a strange bed always seems. And we should like something to eat, Mrs. Hanson. It’s a fair journey from Pendorric.”

  She made me sit down, for I was tired, she was sure.

  “I’m going to cosset you,” she told me. “Oh, it is fun to have you here. I’ve always wanted to bring you.”

  I sat down in a chair near the big window which gave me a view of a neat lawn and flower beds. “Hanson’s a good gardener, but it’s not so easy to grow things on the moors as it is at Pendorric. The ground here is stony and it can be very cold in winter. Snow’s a bit of a rarity at Pendorric; you should see it here in winter. There were times when Barbarina and I were kept in for a whole week—absolutely snowed up.”

  I looked round the large room with its inglenook and pleasant furniture, and the large bowl of chrysanthemums on a gilt and marble console table.

  “I’ve told Mrs. Hanson always to keep flowers in the house,” she told me, following my gaze. “Barbarina used to look after the flowers, until she married. Then I took over. I didn’t arrange them as artistically as she did.” She lifted her shoulders and smiled. “I’m going to show you your room. They should have it ready very soon. But first I’m hungry. Aren’t you? It’s our moorland air. Oh, it’s good to be home.”

  “I wonder you spend so much time at Pendorric,” I said, “when you so clearly prefer it here.”

  “Oh, it’s because of the family … Morwenna, Roc, Hyson and Lowella! Pendorric’s their home and if I want to be with them I have to be at Pendorric. I’ve brought Hyson here quite a lot. Lowella prefers the sea, but Hyson certainly has a taste for the moor.”

  “She was very eager to come with us this time.”

  “I know, dear child. But I did feel you needed a thorough rest. And with her mother in the hospital she should be there. When I’m here I feel young again. There’s so much to remind me. I can almost imagine that Father is still alive and that at any moment Barbarina will come in through that door.”

  “Did Barbarina come here often after her marriage?”

  “Yes. She felt the same as I do about this place. After all it was home to her. She had spent the greater part of her life here. How I do harp on the past. It’s a failing of the aged. Do forgive me, Favel. I want you to be happy here.”

  “You’re very kind.”

  “My dear, I’m so fond of you.”

  We were silent for a few moments and I thought that if I were with Deborah in some small country hotel I could have felt at ease. It was a pity that to escape from Pendorric I had to come to the house where Barbarina had spent the greater part of her life.

  Mrs. Hanson came in to tell us that the meal was ready.

  “An omelette, madam,” she said. “If I’d had more time …”

  “It’ll be delicious, I’m sure,” smiled Deborah. “Mrs. Hanson is one of the best cooks in Devon.”

  The omelette was certainly delicious, and there was apple pie with clotted cream to follow.

  “The real Devonshire cream,” Deborah told me gleefully. “Now don’t you agree it’s better than the Cornish?”

  I really couldn’t tell the difference, so I said it was very good indeed.

  “They copied it from us,” said Deborah; “but they say we copied it from them!”

  We were both growing more lighthearted, and I was sure it was a good thing that Deborah had brought me here; I could see quite clearly now that it would have been most unwise for me to have gone to the Clements’.

  When the meal was over we went back to the drawing room for coffee, and when we had finished, Deborah took me up and showed me my room.

  It was right at the top of the house, very large and an odd shape. There were two windows, and the ceiling sloped slightly in a way which was charming and told me that we were immediately under the roof. The single bed at the opposite end of the room was partly in an alcove; and there was a desk, wardrobe, bedside table, and dressing table; on the bed was a blue coverlet, and the carpet was blue.

  “This is delightful,” I said.

  “And right at the top of the house. It’s so light and airy, isn’t it. Come and look out.”

  We went to one of the windows and because there was a half-moon I could see the moor stretched out beyond the gardens.

  “You should see it in daylight,” Deborah told me. “Miles and miles of moor. The gorse can be a picture, and the heather too. You can pick out the little streams. They look like flashes of silver in the sunlight.”

  “I shall enjoy a good walk tomorrow.”

  She didn’t answer. She just gazed, enraptured, at the moor.

  She turned to me. “Shall I help you unpack?”

  “There’s no need. I’ve brought very little.”

  “There’s plenty of room for your things.” She opened the door of the wardrobe.

  I took out my things and the two dresses I had brought with me, and she hung them on hangers.

  “I’ll show you the rest of the house,” she said.

  I enjoyed my tour of the house. I saw the nursery, where she told me she and Barbarina had played, the music room, where Barbarina had learned the violin, the big drawing room with its grand piano, and I had peered through the window at the walled garden outside.

  “We used to grow lovely peaches on that wall. Our gardener saved all the best for Barbarina.”

  “Weren’t you a little jealous of her?” I asked.

  “Jealous of Barbarina … never! Why, she and I were … close, as only twins can be. I could never really be jealous.”

  “I think Barbarina was lucky to have you for a sister.”

  “Yes, she was the lucky one … until the end of the course.”

  “What really happened?” I felt compelled to ask. “It was an accident, wasn’t it?”

  Her face crumpled suddenly and she turned away.

  “It’s so long ago,” she said almost piteously.

  “And you still feel …”

  She seemed to pull herself together. “There was a suggestion that someone was with her in the gallery at the time.”

  “Did you believe it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then who … ?”

  “It was never said, but lots of people had the idea that it was …”

  “Her husband?”

  “There was scandal about that woman. He was still seeing her. He never gave her up when he married Barbarina. He’d married Barbarina because of the money. He needed money. Houses like Pendorric are great monsters … they need continual feeding.”

  “You think he killed her because he wanted to have Barbarina’s fortune and marry Louisa Sellick?”

  “It entered the minds of some people.”

  “Yet he didn’t marry her.”

  “Perhaps he dared not.” She smiled at me bravely. “I don’t think we ought to be talking like this. It isn’t fair to … Petroc.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s being here in her old home that reminded me.”

  “Let’s change the subject, shall we? Tell me what you would like to do while you’re here.”

  “See as much of the country as possible. I intend to be up early tomorrow. After all I shall be here such a short time. I want to make the most of it.”

  “Then I hope you get a good night’s sleep. It’s not always easy in a new bed, is it? I’ll send Mrs. Hanson up with a nightcap. What do you like? Horlicks? Milo? Cocoa, or just plain milk?”

  I said I should prefer plain milk.

  We sat talking a little while and then she said she would order the milk and take me up.

  We mounted the lovely staircase right to the top of the house.

  “One thing,” she told me, “you’ll be very quiet up here.”

  “I’m sure I shall.”

  “Barbarina always used t
o say that this was the room she liked best in the whole of the house. It was her room until she went to Pendorric.”

  “Barbarina’s room?” I said.

  “The most charming of the bedrooms. That’s why I gave it to you.”

  “It was kind of you.”

  “You … like it, don’t you? If you don’t I’ll give you another.”

  “I like it …”

  She laughed suddenly. “It’s Pendorric she’s supposed to haunt. Not the old Manor.”

  She drew the curtains across the windows and the room looked even more charming. Then she switched on the lamp which stood on the hexagonal bedside table.

  “There! That should be comfortable. I hope you’ll be warm enough. They should have put two bottles in the bed.” She prodded it. “Yes, they have.”

  She stood smiling at me. “Good night, dear. Sleep well.”

  Then she took my face in her hands and kissed it.

  “The milk will be coming up. When would you like it … in five or ten minutes?”

  “Five, please,” I said.

  “All right. Good night, dear.”

  She went out and left me. I undressed and, drawing back the curtains, stood for some seconds looking out over the moor. Peace, I thought. Here I shall be able to think about all the strange things which have been happening to me. I shall be able to make up my mind what I have to do.

  There was a knock on my door and I was surprised to see Deborah, who came in carrying a glass of milk on a small tray.

  She put this down on the hexagonal table.

  “There you are, my dear. I thought I’d bring it myself.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You won’t let it get cold, will you? Sleep well.”

  She kissed me and went out.

  I sat on the edge of the bed and, picking up the glass, sipped the milk, which was very hot.

  I got into bed, but I was not in the least sleepy. I wished that I had brought something to read, but I had left Pendorric in such a hurry that I had forgotten to do so.

  I looked around the room to see if I could find a book; then I noticed the drawer of the hexagonal table. Absently I opened it, and lying inside was a book with a leather cover. I took it out and saw written in a round childish hand on the fly leaf: “The diary of Deborah and Barbarina Hyson. This must be the only diary that ever has been written by two people, but of course we are not really two people in the same way that other people are. That is because we are twins: Signed: Deborah Hyson. Barbarina Hyson.”