Eve

  And as he talked of what Ted and Eunice were arranging for me – even his earlier ‘we’ had given way to ‘they’ by now – as he talked of those plans they had for me, I began to feel as if Eve Courtney was disappearing down a hole in the ground, and another girl, well— behaved, obedient – and crushed – was taking her place. But as I slid down into that black hole of Monty not caring for me, of Monty just wanting to shuffle me off on someone else, I did grasp at a single straw. He had let me stay the weekend, despite that telegram. So now I asked abruptly, ‘But why didn’t you just take me up to London on Friday morning?’

  For just a fraction of a second he was disconcerted by this interruption of his account of all the fun I, too, would have in Dresden – then he explained, ‘As it happens, Eunice did suggest my doing that.’ He began to pat his pockets in search of his cigarette case – thank goodness he still wasn’t looking at me, I was finding it so hard to keep my face calm – ‘But I told her you’d need some time to adjust to a more settled, schoolroom life again – and to see that being a schoolgirl again was not so very terrible—’

  Wasn’t it? You fool, Eve. That was the whole point of these last two days – he was just buttering you up to get you to go quietly. And the weekend seemed to be rushing away past my eyes, like the cinematograph film I’d seen one evening last winter – all black and white, and distant now – But surely he’d been enjoying it too?

  Yes – but only in a ‘why not gather the odd rosebud if they’re offered’ kind of way. And further back now I heard him telling me, ‘But, you see, I do play with toys’. That’s all I’d been, a toy to provide some brief amusement – and then be put back in the cupboard. Oh you fool, Eve – how he must have been laughing behind your back at your gullibility!

  Stop it, Eve. Feeling sorry for yourself is no use – get angry instead. And think, think. Whatever you do, don’t let him see your mind. Stay calm – and think. But it wasn’t a thought that came first – it was a memory. A memory of him saying it hadn’t been clever of Mr Henderson to send me to a school with the daughters of army officers. How had he known that?

  I wasn’t going to let him get away unscathed if I could possibly help it, so I asked him, as casually as I could manage, ‘But are you sure Grandfather Courtney had any property in England? Wouldn’t you have to ask Mr Henderson about that?’

  There was a rather too-long silence – Was he going to tell the truth this time? Then he admitted, ‘As it happens, I have.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Friday.’

  So it was a conspiracy of three, not four. Not that I’d ever had much time for that fourth conspirator, who’d told me that lie about a curator being some sort of guardian. I looked up at the man who’d just been telling me that guardians were not all that different from curators and said, very deliberately, ‘I’m really not very sure about going back to school—’

  And he replied, ‘Well, let’s leave that to be decided later – we’ll get the papers signed first, shall we?’

  Very calmly I said, ‘No.’

  He paused a moment, and then repeated – as if I’d not spoken – ‘You can choose about school later.’

  My calmness erupted into a shout of, ‘But I can’t, can I? Because I’ll have signed away my freedom, by then!’

  ‘That’s rather an extreme statement, Eve.’

  ‘It’s true though,’ I retorted angrily, ‘Once I have a guardian, I have no choice! Guardians are totally different from curators in Scotland – I know that. You’ve been lying to me!’

  ‘I don’t think I quite lied—’

  I said bitterly, ‘Earlier, you got out that marble as if I were the only one who cheated. I’m not – you do it, too.’

  There was a long silence, and when finally he replied his voice was quieter. ‘Yes, I cheat too. But in this instance I thought it was in your best interests.’ He turned to face me fully. ‘Eve, you are still only seventeen, and you are completely alone in the world. None of your maternal relatives wish to take responsibility for you,’ he’d read that letter – the letter from Hungary, saying they didn’t want me, either – I turned my face away to look at the peacock-draped windows as he concluded, ‘So it did seem to me that what we’d planned was best for you.’

  Staring at those brilliantly coloured curtains I told him, ‘I’ll decide what’s best for me.’ The Peacock In His Pride. No – remember the peacocks in India – the slightly dry flavour of the meat which you ate with Apa, with Apa! Spinning round I shouted at Lord Rothbury, ‘That’s why Apa only gave me a curator in his will – so I could make my own choices. And he was right!’

  I wasn’t going to let that cock crow again – I’d wring its wretched neck for it, now, this minute. I cried, ‘And Apa didn’t give me too much freedom – he gave me freedom so I could learn to look after myself. And I have, and I can. So I don’t need Ted or Eunice – and I certainly don’t need you! I was just pretending about that bracelet. I knew when I made it you were only having a joke – only pretending to enjoy the weekend so you could butter me up and get me to agree to be shuffled off on someone I don’t even know.’ And then, my voice shaking with anger and distress I added, ‘On someone who stole my Apa’s place. My grandfather had a son of his own, he didn’t need someone else’s.’

  I stood up – my legs shaking so much I had to turn and grip the back of the chair to do It. He rose too, his face impassive. I shouted, ‘And I don’t need a bracelet brother either – you can throw those stupid silk tassels away!’

  He spoke, his voice level. ‘Eve, we can discuss all this over breakfast, when you’re calmer.’

  I yelled, ‘I am calm! And I’m not staying to breakfast, I’m catching the milk train – so you won’t have to waste any more time buttering me up, or picking a few spare rosebuds or whatever you thought you were doing this weekend!’

  He moved very quickly to stand between me and the door. ‘I shall not keep you now, Eve, but before you go I have a request to make – as your host.’

  I hesitated a moment, then asked ungraciously, ‘What is it?’

  ‘I would like to see you before you leave my house. Will you give me your word on that?’

  Eventually I muttered, ‘Alright.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Moving aside he opened the door for me. Flinging myself through it I rushed across the landing and into my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me.

  Chapter Fifty Three

  I stood with my back to the door, trying to calm my hammering heart. Not just anger now, but humiliation. I’d already heard his foosteps retreating down the stairs, so any last lingering hope that he might follow me was gone. He didn’t care, he didn’t care! He never had. A moment of bewilderment – I’d been so sure he’d liked me – You fool, Eve, you utter fool.

  I heard a whistle outside and ran to the window. There was only a pale sliver of moon but as my eyes adjusted I spotted the white flash of Jack’s breast turning to follow his master – who was calmly striding away, taking his dogs for their evening walk! I couldn’t bear to stay another night under his roof – even the milk train would be too late – but I’d given my word – Suddenly I rushed over to my kari and began stuffing in skirt and spare underwear. I knew how to beat him and leave, tonight.

  Oilskins, sou’wester, Bible box – reassuringly weighty. Weighted with his money. Over at the writing desk I pencilled ‘Montmorency Guyzance’ on an envelope, tipped his Judas coins inside and sealed the flap. I ran full tilt down to the front hallway and thrust it through the slit of the house post box.

  Up I ran again, swift and light-footed as a poacher. Lashing my boots to the strap of my kari and dumping my Sunday skirt and petticoat on to the bed – I’d have to send for my trunk later – I dragged on climbing breeks and dark jersey and began to plait my hair. When it was firmly coiled around my head I hesitated a moment, then pulled on my black stocking cap – I didn’t want to be seen too soon, or by the wrong person. With the last straying wisps hidden and my jersey col
lar tugged up I was ready to go.

  Seizing my kari I tossed it through the open back window before springing up on to the chest of drawers and with a soft cry of ‘Fire!’ following it out on to the roof of the main house.

  Which I was perfectly familiar with. I had obeyed his instruction not to set foot on the steps leading up to the roof of the tower, but there were plenty of more interesting ways to get there. At Wenlock Court I’d developed quite a taste for wall and roof scrambling, so at Overby as soon as I’d felt better – perhaps even a little before – I’d been out on that roof. His roof.

  But only under cover of darkness, and even then I’d been careful not to let myself be seen – so I hadn’t risked climbing any of the four pinnacles which sprouted from the corners of his tower, since I’d have been outlined against the sky and possibly spotted. But tonight I wanted to be spotted – to be seen – and thus fulfil the letter of my promise before making a rapid escape across the leads and down the fire escape ladder on to the service court wall.

  He might have caught me at Scarborough but here on his own roof my experience and lightness would tell – especially as he’d told me himself he didn’t have my head for heights. And once on the ground Uncle Fergus’ training would not let me down.

  I felt much better now I was prowling round on top of his roof instead of being trapped under it. And it was quite a satisfactory roof – a touch on the boring side but generally sound and well-maintained. His stone gargoyles were firm and his ridge tiles were steady under my bare feet.

  Returning to the corner where the tower joined the main part of the house I dropped one foot down on to a convenient ledge and reached the toes of my other foot over to the drainpipe clamp – test – move – His drainpipes were most satisfactory – round, rigid, and set a little out from the wall so I could slip my fingers behind and get a firm grip. And these regular clamps took the strain off my arms – Be a monkey, Eve. I swarmed up it.

  Up to a good sound pipe head and a narrow ledge just below the parapet of the tower. Test – move – Hauling myself up and over the parapet I dropped down on to the flat walkway of his tower roof. Oh yes, you couldn’t fault his tower, but – A sudden spurt of anger swept through me – how could he have tried to betray me like that? Turning my head I glared towards the spinney he would shortly be emerging from – but there was time for some pinnacle practise first.

  I chose the opposite one from my intended perch to practise on. Springing up on to the parapet I reached for the first gargoyle with my left hand – test – and the ridge above with my right. A quick pull up and my right foot was settled on its own gargoyle – after that, easy-peasy. These flat-headed gargoyles were so evenly spaced it was like scaling a ladder – and the summit of the pinnacle itself formed a neat little platform which was almost made for two feet to stand on. I was tempted, but – better not, Eve – no stabilising lightning conductor rod sprouting from this one. Besides, you might be seen by an unintended pair of eyes.

  I climbed quickly down, practised my access to the other two – those moves were the only slightly tricky ones – then after pulling off my stocking cap and thrusting it into my kari I walked round to the far side, where my chosen pinnacle reared up from the outer corner of the tower. It was the most exposed of the four, and thus the one adorned with that crucial copper rod. Oh yes, I knew all about lightning conductors from my science lessons with Apa.

  So I stood on the roof waiting for Monty. It was chilly up there, but my mounting anger warmed me as I watched that spinney – Shepherds’ Spinney it was called – he’d told me its name on one of our walks, we’d been talking about the dogs and how he often took them that way for their evening run – casual talk, as between friends — I’d thought we were friends, not him just trying to butter me up – A white flash – Jack’s chest – I leapt up on to the parapet and began my climb.

  When my waist came level with the pinnacle summit I looked down – and saw only the top of Monty’s cap. I had to make him look up. But I’d already thought of that one – clever, clever Eve. The sawing sound of a leopard’s growl challenged the Wiltshire night. Jack barked his response. And as I called a second time the cap tipped back and I saw the white blur of a face.

  I placed my right foot on the summit of the pinnacle and with my left already moving up I reached out and seized the lightning rod. Which was loose. It swayed under my hand and I swayed with it as my mind froze in a moment of utter terror – but my mountain-born body had already completed the movement of my other foot and extended my arms, seeking balance – and finding it.

  I stood up there, letting the movements of my outstretched arms settle and steady, steadying me as I whispered my prayer of thankfulness. Only then did I risk a quick glance down to glimpse Monty’s upturned face before looking out again into the cloud-scudding night.

  I stood balanced there a little longer, letting my nerve return, then bending my knees I dropped my body down until my fingers found the narrow over-hanging edge of my small platform. Test, Eve. It was firm. Move – one foot down to rest on the flat head of the uppermost gargoyle – test – I let that foot take my weight. Stop – think. I moved my second foot down to another, lower, gargoyle. Test, Eve –

  And so I came down that pinnacle. When I reached the flat walkway I felt I was calm again, but my legs were not quite ready to leave yet – besides, I could hear boots pounding up the steps below. The trap door thumped back and Monty was heaving himself through it already shouting, ‘What on earth were you doing? Whatever did you think you were doing!’ He came thundering towards me.

  I replied with such dignity as I could muster, ‘I was leaving, for London.’

  ‘You were leaving?’

  ‘Of course – what else did you think I was doing?’

  He said flatly, ‘I thought you were trying to fly.’

  If that was his idea of a joke – I said sharply, ‘That was a leopard’s call, not a vulture’s.’

  The vultures fly, waiting – I began to shiver, almost shuddering –

  Dragging off his jacket he flung it round my shoulders. ‘Put that on.’ I did as I was told – but my fingers were trembling as I rolled up the cuffs of his too-long sleeves. As soon as my hands were free he seized one, hauling me along the roof. I pulled back to retrieve my kari. ‘What’s that?’, he demanded.

  ‘My bag – I told you, I was leaving.’ And I felt his grip on my hand relax a fraction, though he didn’t let go until we’d reached the trap door. I dropped my kari down and turned to follow it. Think – test – move – stop.

  As soon as I reached the bottom the command came, ‘Stand to the side, and wait.’ He lowered himself through and I heard the trap door thumping down, followed by the savage shooting of bolts. As soon as his boots hit the floor he gripped my elbow and escorted me on down the stairs like a jailer.

  When we reached the door of the schoolroom he almost pushed me inside. So there we were again. Pulling the door hard shut behind us he held out my kari, ‘Have you a skirt in here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Get behind the sofa and put it on. I’ll sort out this fire.’

  Setting aside the fireguard he dropped to his knees in front of the hearth and began carefully feeding the still-glowing embers – pausing only to call over his shoulder, ‘And your stockings.’

  When I emerged from the cover of the sofa he pointed a coal-grimed finger at the armchair, ‘Sit down – and don’t move!’ I almost collapsed into the cushions, where I huddled in the comfort of his jacket watching him tend that fire – until, satisfied, he sat back on his heels and watched the re-born flames. There was coal-dust on his glossy white cuffs, and I loved him.

  He turned to look at me, ‘What’s the matter, Eve?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You’re still very pale – shock, I suppose.’

  ‘So are you.’

  He gave a kind of half-grimace betore repeating, ‘Shock, I suppose.’ Then he stood up, and faced me. ‘Eve, I must
have the truth. You must tell me the truth. What exactly were you doing up there?’ His voice rose, ‘Tell me the truth!’

  ‘I told you – I was leaving.’

  ‘Across the roof? And in the middle of the night!’

  ‘The roof’s the quickest way.’ I explained, ‘I was going to go down the fire-escape ladder, and then climb over the service court wall. If you had chased after me on the roof you wouldn’t have caught me, not like at Scarborough – I’m better at roofs than you are.’ Except tonight—

  He said grimly, ‘Indeed. But once on the ground—’

  ‘If you had come after me I would have laid a false trail, like we did with the water ghillie – until he stopped looking.’

  ‘I see. There’s just one problem with that plan of yours, Eve – I would not have stopped looking.’ Then he glanced over at my kari, ‘And certainly, you did have that bag with you—’

  ‘I couldn’t take my trunk, could I? Not across the roof. I was going to send for it later.’