Midsummer's Eve (59 page)

She went to the window and looked out.

I stood beside her. “You can just see the new Houses of Parliament. They really are magnificent. Did you know the Queen opened the Victoria Tower and the Royal Gallery only two years ago; and she knighted the architect. It really is a wonderful sight when you look across the river.”

“It is a great pleasure for me to be in London. It was a very fortunate day when I walked into your garden.”

“I know we all share that view,” I told her.

It was wonderful to see the family, particularly Jonnie. There had always been a special friendship between us. He was four years older than I which had seemed a great deal when we were younger, but as we grew older the gap seemed to lessen. I had hero-worshiped Jonnie in those days but when Ben had come I had been rather fickle and transferred my adoration to him.

He took my hands and gave me that rather gentle smile which had always made me feel cherished.

“Why, how you’ve grown, Angelet. And you’ve been so ill. We were all so anxious about you.”

“I’m all right now, Jonnie. How are you getting on? Still concerned about all those old relics … still digging up the past?”

He nodded. “I’m getting completely immersed. There is a party going out to Greece next year. I’m hoping to go.”

“What are you hoping to find … a lost city?”

“That’s hoping for a lot. Generally it’s just dig … dig … and you’re lucky if you find a drinking vessel.”

“Oh, this is Miss Grace Gilmore,” I said as Grace appeared.

“How do you do?” said Jonnie. “I’ve heard so much of you. Aunt Annora has told us how good you have been to her.”

Grace laughed. “It is more she who has been good to me.”

She looked not so much pretty as interesting. She was elegant. Her sense of dress was perfect. Her clothes were simple and yet noticeable for that very reason. She wore a gown of a light biscuit color which toned with her hazel eyes; her smooth brown hair fell rather loosely over her ears and was caught in a knot at the nape of her neck. She was wearing a garnet brooch which my mother had given her—her only jewelry. Everything was plain but decidedly elegant.

Jonnie smiled at her. If he thought she was some sort of higher servant he would be especially gracious to her. Jonnie was that kind of person.

Ben had been so flamboyantly attractive that he had made me forget what a very delightful person Jonnie was.

Grace said: “I heard you are interested in archaeology. I’ve always been fascinated by things that belong to the past. What an exciting time you must have!”

“I have just been saying to Angelet that people imagine we are coming upon old treasures all the time. That, if one is lucky, is the experience of a lifetime.”

“I’d love to hear more about that.”

“Well, you’ll stay for a while and we shall meet again. There’s plenty of time for us.”

Matthew and Helena came in to welcome us and in turn were introduced to Grace. Geoffrey was growing up. He must be nearly fifteen by now.

“Peterkin and Frances will be coming,” announced Aunt Amaryllis. “I was determined to muster as many of the family as possible. It is such a long time since we have seen you all. I know it was due to Angelet’s accident and subsequent illness. … Well, all that is over now. It is wonderful to see her so blooming.”

In due course everyone was assembled and we were seated at the dinner table, Uncle Peter at one end, Aunt Amaryllis at the other.

There had been occasions in the past when I had sat at this table and I remembered the conversation. It always seemed to be dominated by Uncle Peter as far as I remembered and everyone deferred to him. There was a good deal of politics which I believed interested him more than anything else. Of course I had been very young then and my opportunities to listen had not been very frequent.

Now, of course, I was older but perhaps not yet of an age to take a great part in the discourse.

The talk at this time was about the situation between Russia and Turkey and the part England should play in it.

“Palmerston has the people with him,” said Uncle Peter.

“But is he right?” asked Matthew.

“I think war is wrong in any circumstances,” said Frances.

Frances was a very forthright woman, one of the few who would directly contradict Uncle Peter. For many years she had been running what was called a Mission in the East End of London; she had married Peterkin and they worked together. She was rather a plain woman, but attractive because of her vitality and enthusiasm; she was highly respected in many quarters because of the work she had done, and was doing, for the poor.

“My dear Frances,” said Uncle Peter, with a kindly but faintly condescending smile, “we all think war is wrong, but sometimes it is inevitable, and a prompt action in which a few suffer may prevent the deaths of thousands.”

“In my opinion,” went on Frances, “we should keep out of this.”

“I am inclined to agree,” said Matthew. Matthew was a reformer by nature. He had come into prominence with his book on Prison Reform and from that had stemmed his career in politics. Uncle Peter had been of inestimable help to his son-in-law; and Matthew never forgot that; he must have felt very strongly on this matter of war to express an adverse opinion.

Uncle Peter came in firmly. Lightly he might brush Frances aside, but he was really concerned about Matthew.

“My dear Matthew,” he said, “often it is necessary to take the long term view. You will never have the support of the people by a weak pacifist policy.”

“But if it is
right
…?”

Uncle Peter raised his eyebrows. “In politics we have to think what is best for the country. What is going to keep power in our hands? We cannot allow sentiment to play a part in our judgment. The people are even now turning against the Queen … and Albert is the villain-in-chief.”

“They are always against Albert,” said Frances.

“Yes, but they now think he and the Queen are considering their Russian relations rather than the country. The people want Palmerston and his gun-boat policy. You have to admit that it is not without its merits.”

I could see Matthew wavering. He would conform with Uncle Peter’s wishes. He always had. That was how he had got on. He had been made by Uncle Peter.

“The point is,” said my father, “is there going to be war?”

“I think it is almost certain. We shall have to go to Turkey’s aid. We shall have the French with us and we shall settle this matter very quickly and show the world that we are masters of it.”

“Aberdeen is against it,” said Matthew.

“Aberdeen is too weak. The people are clamoring for Palmerston. Mark my words, Palmerston will be back. We shall go to war. It is what the people want. Palmerston is the hero of the day.” He looked at Matthew sternly. “It is necessary to be on the winning side.”

So the conversation went on. Then we talked of Cornwall; and my father and Uncle Peter were in deep conversation about the estate. Aunt Amaryllis told us of the London scene, that she had recently been to the opera and that she hoped we would all go very soon.

But the talk did keep coming back to the possibility of war and that was really what was in everybody’s mind.

I lay in bed that night and thought about the evening. London always made an impact on me. It was not only the streets, which always seemed so alive in contrast to our country lanes. Perhaps it was the feeling that life here could never be dull. Something important was just about to happen, I always felt. That was probably the impression I had in this house and it was largely due to the impact of Uncle Peter’s personality.

Already I was aware of the impending disaster of war and I had seen opposite reactions to it; and what had impressed me was Uncle Peter’s control of Matthew, and as Matthew was one of those people who make our laws, I thought of Uncle Peter as a puppet master jerking his protégé in the way he must go. Matthew’s instincts were against war; but he was going to support it because Uncle Peter was jerking him.

It was so interesting that St Branok’s Pool seemed a long way away.

The days began to fly past. There was the visit to the opera which Aunt Amaryllis had promised us; we went riding in the Row; Jonnie was a constant companion. He had not yet completed his education but as he had decided to take up archaeology as a profession he would interrupt it to go to Greece for a period of practical study; and was at the moment preparing for it.

He usually spent his mornings in private study but in the afternoons he would be free and that was the time that he was in our company. I say our because Grace Gilmore seemed always to be with us.

In the mornings we often went shopping with my mother, Grace with us. Being in London, said my mother, gave us an opportunity to replenish our wardrobes. She and Grace liked to study the fashions in the shops and consult together. Grace was very knowledgeable about materials and styles.

Sometimes in the afternoon we rode in Rotten Row. It was not, of course, like riding at home. It was more like a parade; Jonnie, and occasionally Aunt Amaryllis, were with us and when they were they were constantly being greeted by people. Riding there was more like a social event.

I enjoyed very much walking in the Park which we did frequently. Jonnie or Geoffrey would accompany us. Sometimes we took Jack, who was wide-eyed with wonder at everything he saw and asked interminable questions.

The best times of all were with Jonnie and Grace. She and Jonnie had taken quite a liking to each other. She was so interested in everything and she asked all sorts of intelligent questions about archaeology; he had lent her books on the subject.

I used to love to sit by the Serpentine in blissful forgetfulness of that terrible day which during the visit to London seemed so far from what I thought of as the scene of the crime. It had faded into the past and was of far less significance than it had been in Cornwall.

There was one day, I remember, when we talked of Ben, that brought it back a little, for I had not seen Ben since it happened. I had been aware of him at my bedside, I supposed, but that was all.

“You remember Benedict, Angelet,” said Jonnie one day.

“Oh yes, I remember him.”

“Of course you do. Do you know, Miss Gilmore, I was quite jealous of Benedict at one time. Angelet used to be my particular friend and when he came along she completely forgot me.”

“Who is he exactly?” asked Grace. “I know he was at Cador for a while but I was never quite sure.”

“He took a bit of explaining,” said Jonnie. “He’s my grandfather’s grandson. I suppose that makes him a cousin. What complicated relationships we have in our family.”

“Perhaps that’s why you are rather complicated people,” said Grace.

“That must be the answer. Do you know, I never thought of that.”

“I wonder if he has found gold and become rich,” I said.

Jonnie said to Grace: “That was what he went to Australia to find. Gold! Do you remember some time ago there was a great deal of comment about the goldfields of Australia. A place called Ballarat, I believe. Well, Benedict just thought he would like a share of it and he went in search of his fortune.”

“I expect if he had found gold he would have been delighted to let us know,” I said.

“Yes, I’m sure of that, too,” agreed Jonnie. “Benedict was not one to hide his light under a bushel.”

I wished they wouldn’t talk of him. They were bringing it all back to me again.

“Perhaps he is having a hard time,” I suggested.

“Well, I should think it is not a very easy life … until one strikes gold.”

“He sounds a very interesting young man,” said Grace. “I remember him only slightly.”

“He is rather overpowering, wouldn’t you say, Angelet,” said Jonnie. “In fact he is very much like my grandfather.”

“I see what you mean,” said Grace. “Tell me, when are you planning to go to Greece?”

“Next spring, I think.”

“How very exciting! I think it must be one of the most thrilling things one can do … to discover the past, for that is what it is.”

“Exactly,” agreed Jonnie. “Then I hope to get to Pompeii. I feel there is a good deal to discover there. People have explored a little. I have been there once … two years ago. They have worked on it … spasmodically. There is no system, though. I believe work on it would be very rewarding.”

“How fascinating,” cried Grace rapturously. “It was the volcano which erupted, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but there was a series of earthquakes before that. It was the shocks which set Vesuvius erupting and sending out those ashes and hot stones pelting down on the cities and utterly destroying them.”

Grace shivered. “It makes you realize how uncertain life is.”

“It does indeed. Well, I intend to get out there and work. I shall do everything I can to make that possible. There is so much to do, I am sure we can uncover a whole city.”

“How did they know there was a city there?” I asked.

“The walls of the amphitheater marked the spot, but it was just a lot of hardened mud with sparse grass on it … enough though to show that there had been a city there. As far back as the sixteenth century they came upon ancient buildings. There have been excavations but they have never been carried out in a scientific way. It’s time they were. Then Heaven knows what treasures we shall uncover.”

“I think it must be a wonderful profession,” said Grace enthusiastically. “I’d love to be concerned in it.”

“It’s hard work … digging and all that.”

“I’m strong.”

“I tell you what; I’ll lend you some more books.”

“Oh will you?”

“Of course.”

He did and soon they were involved in intelligent discussions and I felt rather left out. It was the first time I had been made aware that I was still a child and Jonnie and Grace were adults. She must have been four or possibly five years older than he was. I liked Grace very much but I did wish that she was not always present when we went on our rides and walks. I also wished that she were not quite so clever; she seemed to have acquired quite an understanding of archaeology which she had certainly not had when she came to London.