Lonesome Road (9 page)

She threw up her head.

“I’m going to tell you what’s true.” She turned as if she was looking for something and snatched up a square old-fashioned Bible from the table beside the bed. “I’ll tell you the truth, and the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God—and I’ll swear it on that woman’s Bible. But I can’t make you believe me if so be she’ve stopped your ears with her lies.”

“Are they lies, Louie?”

“It’s a lie for anyone to say I’d hurt you! I’ve never wanted nothing but to see you happy, and I’ve never done nothing but to keep you safe. But I couldn’t get you to believe me.”

“Tell me what you did and why you did it, Louie.”

Louisa sat down on the side of the bed again. She clasped her hands over the Bible and said,

“If she can read anyone like a book, then she’ll know I’m speaking true. I’ve heard of such, but how she does it passes me. And if she can read everyone so clever, why don’t she tell you who it is doing the devil’s work in this house? For this is what I’ll tell you, and it’s true. There was someone polished the step before ever I did it. And it wasn’t that day—it was the Sunday evening, and Miss Rachel come in late. Everyone knew it, and knew she was bound to be late for dinner. So there they all were, waiting for Miss Rachel to come hurrying down so as not to keep them. And one of them knew that when she come hurrying she’d be bound to fall because the top step was polished like glass. But, Miss Rachel, you sent me down to tell them not to wait, and I wasn’t hurrying myself for them, so I’d time to take hold of the banisters and save myself. And I took hot water and washed the stuff off and never said nothing because it wasn’t no use. But in the night it come to me that I’d got to show you. I thought if you saw it with your own eyes, maybe you’d believe me, so I did the three stairs when you were washing Noisy the next Saturday, but you wouldn’t take no heed. And I did the curtains like she says, and the chocolates, and the adders. But don’t you never think I’d have let you step into that there bed, my dear. Adders is stupid in the winter, and I reckoned they’d stay in the warmth by the hot water bottle. And what I was going to do was turn the bed right back and see something. And call out, like I did, and strip the bed. But I got a fright, for I didn’t reckon on their being so lively. It must have been the heat. They were like dead things when I bought them.”

Rachel leaned her head on her hand.

“Noisy killed them clever enough, and I put them on the fire with a good heart. I thought now you’d believe there was someone trying to do you a mischief.”

“And it was you all the time! Only you, Louie!”

Louisa leaned forward, gripping the Bible.

“You’re not going to believe that, my dear!” She turned to Miss Silver. “Are you going to let her believe that? If you can’t tell lies from truth, what’s the good of you? I’m telling you the truth. I didn’t mean to do nothing to those chocolates—it never came into my head. But whilst Miss Rachel was in her bath I went in and had a look at them. The soft ones was in a bag separate, and I thought I’d see if I couldn’t get them into the box. I’d about finished, when one of them rolled over, and there, underneath, you could see it had been meddled with. I put it straight in the fire before I stopped to think, and then it come to me I’d thrown away my chance to make Miss Rachel believe. So I looked to see if that was the only one, and it was. I looked quick and careful, but there wasn’t any more. So then I thought what I could do, and I done it with the ammoniated quinine, like she says.”

Miss Silver’s eyes brightened, sharpened.

“One of the chocolates had been tampered with? You’re quite sure of that?”

The defiant dark eyes met hers. The defiance went out of them.

“I’m sure,” said Louisa—“certain, certain sure—and I’ve got the Book in my hand that I’ve sworn on to tell the truth. And I’ll say more than that. If there’s any plague in this Book, from the plagues that come on the Egyptians to what come on Judas that was a traitor, let them be nothing to what I’m willing to have come on me if I’ve taken anything away from the truth or put anything to it.”

Rachel looked at her and looked away. She lifted her head from her hand and said in a low, steady voice,

“Who pushed me over the cliff?”

Louisa moved with the Bible in her clasp. When she had laid it down on the little table beside the bed she came back and put a hand on Rachel’s shoulder.

“Do you think I pushed you, my dear?” The voice was deep and gentle, the words simply spoken as to a child.

Rachel looked up at her and then down again. She said,

“No, Louie. You do love me.” Then, after a pause, “But someone pushed me.”

“I think you should go to bed now,” said Miss Silver. “We will talk about it in the morning.”

Rachel got wearily to her feet.

“Yes—I can’t think—I can’t talk about it any more tonight. Louie, I can’t talk to you. You must go to your room.”

“Miss Rachel—”

“Not tonight. I can’t. Please go.”

She turned back at the door herself because Miss Silver beckoned her.

“I won’t keep you, Miss Treherne, but—will you change rooms with me tonight?”

Rachel smiled faintly.

“No, I won’t do that.”

“Then will you lock the doors—the two on the corridor and the communicating door from the sitting-room?”

“Yes—I was going to.”

“Your little dog sleeps in your room? Would he bark if anyone came in?”

“Yes, I think he would. At least he growled horribly when Ella Comperton put her head in one night.”

“Why did she do that?”

“She wanted to know if I had any aspirin.”

“And had you?”

“No. I never take things like that. She ought to have known.”

“And when was this?”

“About a fortnight ago. So I think that Noisy would live up to his name.”

Back in her own room, Rachel thought again how peaceful it looked. Noisy had opened one eye when she came in, but he was now fast asleep again with his blanket thrown off and one ear flapped back. Rachel put it straight, felt him move against her hand, and thought, “How simple to be a dog. You love someone very much, and they love you.”

She slipped off her dressing-gown, turned out the light, and lay down in bed. She sank through a kind of mist of fatigue into drowning depths of sleep and stayed there.

Much later in the night she rose to the surface, and was visited by dreams which changed continually. In one she saw herself walking like a prisoner across a waste of snow. Her wrists and ankles were chained with heavy links of gold, and she was quite alone. Then Gale Brandon came rushing over the snow in a sleigh and caught her up in the wind of his flight and swept her on. His arms were warm and strong.

Then she was running from something she could not see. She ran right up the Milky Way, and the stars flashed in her eyes and dazzled her, until they changed into cars with burning headlights, and the Milky Way into a concrete road. Someone blew a horn right in her ear, and she began to run again. Gale Brandon said, “You’re quite safe now,” but she couldn’t find him because all the lights went out. Miss Silver said, “Simple faith is a great deal more uncommon than Norman blood.” But it was Louisa who was crying as if her heart would break. The sound of her sobs turned into the noise of waves. Rachel hung on the cliff again, but it was daylight now. If she could look up she would see who it was that had pushed her over. But she couldn’t look up. She had to look down at the rocks which were waiting for her. She heard Gale Brandon call her name, and woke.

It was still dark. The fire was dead. There was no light in the room. But she thought she heard a sound. She thought that there was someone outside her door—an ear against the panel—a hand upon the latch. Noisy’s basket creaked. She heard him move, stand up, go pattering over the floor. And then she heard him growl. It was the faintest sound, a mere thrum in the throat. She called him, and he came running, to jump on the bed and flounce joyously in under the eiderdown. Rachel let him stay.

Presently she slept again.

Louisa brought her tea with an air of tragedy which was daunting in the extreme. Rachel’s heart sank, but years of practice had given her a certain technique; she managed to postpone the impending scene.

The next thing that happened was more cheerful. The telephone bell rang beside the bed, and there was Gale Brandon to say good-morning and ask how she felt.“Stiff,” said Rachel.

“Are you getting up?” He sounded eager.

“Not at the moment, but I’m going to.”

“I’d like to come over and see you if I may.”

“Of course you may. I haven’t thanked you for saving my life.”

“You don’t want to do that.”

“But I do.”

“I mean, you don’t need to. I’ve been doing the thanking. Well, I’ll be over. Is eleven o’clock too early?… All right, I’ll make it half past.” He rang off.

As she hung the receiver up, there came a gentle tapping on the door and Caroline Ponsonby came into the room in a green dressing-gown. Perhaps it was the color that made her look so pale. She came and leaned on the foot of the bed, and Noisy pushed his nose out from under the eiderdown and made a little snuffling sound of welcome. Caroline said, “Bad spoilt one!” and stretched a hand to pull his ear. After a moment she straightened herself and looked at Rachel.

“Are you all rights darling? I worried about you in the night.”

Rachel thought, “She looks as if she had seen a ghost. What is it?” She said,

“Was it you who came to my door?”

Caroline flushed.

“I did—once—when it was nearly morning. Did you hear me? I didn’t mean to wake you. I couldn’t sleep.”

Rachel put out her hand.

“Come here and tell me why you couldn’t sleep.”

But Caroline stood where she was.

“I was frightened—about you—about the fall you had. I was afraid to go to sleep. You know how it is when you feel as if a horrid dream was waiting for you.” She gave a pretence of a laugh. “I thought I wouldn’t give it a chance, that’s all. But you are all right?”

“Perfectly all right.”

Caroline opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, and then shut it again and ran out of the room. Her eyes were full of tears.

Rachel went down to breakfast as the lesser of two evils. If she shared the family meal she would get all the family questions over at once, whereas to stay upstairs was to invite separate visits from Ernest, Mabel, Ella, Cosmo, and Richard, with the same solicitous inquiries from each visitor in turn. She put a little color in her cheeks and hoped for the best.

Everyone certainly did ask an inordinate number of questions. Ernest Wadlow’s chief preoccupation appeared to be a desire to establish the exact spot where she had fallen. He arranged spoons and forks to represent the line of the cliff, with a breakfast cup for Nanny’s cottage, and lumps of sugar to simulate the broken wall.

“If you came out here you would switch on your torch at the gate—I suppose you did switch on your torch?”

“The battery had run down,” said Rachel.

Ella Comperton coughed.

“Well, Rachel, I should have thought you would have made sure of having a good battery before attempting that dangerous path.”

Ernest transferred his attention to Ella.

“I do not think one can fairly describe the path as dangerous—not with a good torch.”

“But it wasn’t a good torch, and nothing would induce me to attempt it, Ernest.”

“I can’t imagine why you didn’t let the car fetch you,” said Mabel Wadlow in her fretful voice. “It could perfectly well have met Miss Silver’s train and then picked you up.”

Rachel felt her color rise.

“But I like walking,” she said, and wondering how many of them would guess that she liked walking because Gale Brandon sometimes walked with her.

“But without a proper torch!” said Ernest. “Do you mean to say that the battery was quite run down?”

“It wasn’t much use.”

Richard looked over the top of the Daily Mail.

“But I put a new battery in for you yesterday morning.”

Rachel said, “Yes.”

Cosmo Frith lowered the Times and observed genially,

“In that case, my dear, you must have taken the wrong torch.”

One of those arguments peculiar to families developed. The condition of the battery became the subject of a heated debate which culminated in Cosmo bursting out laughing and declaring that the culprit should be allowed to give evidence on its own behalf. He went out into the hall for the torch, and came in switching it on and off.

“Nothing much wrong with it, my dear, to my mind. A good thing you didn’t lose it when you fell. Of course it’s not so easy to tell in daylight, but the battery seems pretty hearty to me. I’ll try it inside the china-cupboard.”

A moment later he was calling from behind a half closed door.

“Here, Richard, come and see! Rachel, I’d like you to take a look. I’ll swear there’s nothing wrong with this battery.”

Rachel looked, and saw a bright beam and a brilliant ring of light. Over her shoulder Miss Silver saw them too.

“Nothing wrong with it—eh, my dear?”

Rachel said in a puzzled voice,

“It wasn’t like that last night.”

She drew away from the cupboard door and back to her place, to be immediately pounced on by Ernest.

“Now let us suppose that you had walked as far as this—the first lump of sugar represents the beginning of the wall—how much farther had you gone before you fell? I am allowing a yard to each lump of sugar.”

“I really don’t know, Ernest.”

He gazed reproachfully over the top of the crooked pince-nez.

“But, my dear Rachel, you must have some idea. I do not expect complete accuracy—we are not in a court of law—but you must surely be able to hazard a guess.”

“I don’t know that I want to, Ernest. I would really so much rather not have to go on thinking about it.”

“Or talking about it,” said Cosmo Frith. “And you shall not, my dear. We’re all much too thankful you weren’t hurt to worry about might-have-beens.”

Ella Comperton pushed back her chair,

“Well, it all seems to me to be a good deal of fuss about nothing. I’m sure I had a nasty tumble myself the other day, and nobody made any fuss about it. I don’t know what everyone is going to do, but I am going to write letters, and then later on I shall take a little constitutional. Caroline, you look as if you would be none the worse for some fresh air and exercise.”

“Caroline is coming into Ledlington with me,” said Richard.

But if there was relief on Caroline’s face, there was no gratitude. The defenceless look which had brought Richard to her rescue sank a little deeper into her eyes, but it was still there.

He spoke to her for a moment as they came out of the dining-room together.

“You needn’t come, but—I won’t worry you—”

She took a quick breath.

“It’s not that. I’ve got to pack.”

She walked off towards the stairs, but he caught her up.

“How do you mean, you’ve got to pack?”

She took hold of the banisters and stood half turned from him.

“I think—I’ve got—to go away—”

“What do you mean? You needn’t—I’ll go.”

She said “No” in a heart-broken voice, and ran from him up the stairs.

When Rachel came up after seeing the housekeeper she found Richard in her sitting-room. He turned from the window as she came in and said without any preamble,

“Why is Caroline going away?”

Rachel felt an acute distress. It seemed to flow to her from Richard. It took hold upon her heart. She said quickly,

“But I didn’t know she was going. Have you quarrelled?”

He was very pale.

“Listen, Rachel. You must have known—what I feel— about Caroline! Everyone must have known. I’ve never tried to hide it—never wanted to. She’s been everything to me as long as I can remember. I was only waiting—till I was in a position—”

“I know. What has gone wrong?”

“I don’t know—I tell you I don’t know. I asked her to marry me—yesterday—after tea. We went out for a walk on the cliffs—it was dark. I didn’t mean to do it, but I found myself telling her—asking her. And she said ‘No.’ ”

“Richard!”

“It was damnable. I don’t know what made me choose an idiotic place like that. I couldn’t see her face. I couldn’t get any sense out of her. she was all frozen up, and when I tried to take hold of her she ran away. I tell you I don’t know what to make of her. And this morning—she’s just told me—she’s going to pack—”

Rachel took him by the arm.

“Wait a minute—I want to ask you something. You say you were on the cliffs. What time were you there, and what part of the cliff were you on?”

He said impatiently, “I don’t know! Does it matter? I got back about six. We went by the upper path, and after Caroline left me I came back along the edge. I must have just missed you, I suppose.”

He felt her grasp tighten.

“Did you see anyone—meet anyone?”

“No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“And you’re sure you did change the battery in my torch yesterday morning?”

“Quite sure. Rachel, what is all this about?”

She said in a low, steady voice, “Richard—” and before she could say any more the door opened and Miss Silver came into the room with her head a little on one side and a pleasant if somewhat foolish smile upon her face.

“I do hope I don’t intrude, but you did say in a quarter of an hour’s time, and I make it exactly the quarter. My watch keeps excellent time. A twenty-first birthday gift from my parents, and I do not think it has ever been out of order—but that was before the days of cheap watches. Dear me—what a charming room this is. And what a delightful view. It reminds me of a picture which I remember seeing in the Royal Academy—well now, it would be quite twenty years ago. That headland, and the rocks, and the peculiar greenish grey color of the sea—”

As she tripped to the window for a nearer view, Richard turned a face of barely suppressed fury upon Rachel. It inquired, “Is she going to stay?” and a flicker of Rachel’s eyelids replied, “She is.”

She went with him to the door and squeezed his arm.

“I won’t let her go if I can help it,” she said in a whisper.

They were both looking across at Caroline’s door.

Richard said, “Thank you” in a stifled voice and made off.

Rachel went back into her sitting-room and shut the door.