The Black Swan (11 page)

She rushed at me in the old exuberant way.

“Lucie … Lucie … the same old Lucie! I should have picked you out anywhere. Oh, it
is
wonderful to see you.”

Celeste regarded her rather shyly.

“Welcome home, Belinda,” she said.

“Well, thank you,” replied Belinda, and kissed her. “I’m so glad to be here.”

Celeste turned to the Wilberforces and thanked them for looking after Belinda.

“Actually,” Belinda informed us, “it was I who looked after them, wasn’t it?” She smiled archly at Mr. Wilberforce who returned the smile indulgently. Already I had had a glimpse of her power to charm. “We had some rough water,” she went on to explain. “Poor Mrs. Wilberforce. She wasn’t the only one. Half the ship was prostrate. Mr. Wilberforce and I were almost the only ones who were not.”

“The Bay,” murmured Mrs. Wilberforce. “Well, we must be getting along, I suppose.”

“You must come and visit us,” said Celeste. “We want to thank you properly.”

“Belinda has our address.”

Good-byes were said and arrangements made for Belinda’s luggage to be collected and brought to the house; then with Belinda seated between Celeste and me, we rode along to the house.

Belinda kept pointing out landmarks that she remembered. She was clearly delighted to be back.

We came into the square. I glanced about quickly, as I always did, at the railings of the gardens and the lamp post, even at this time half-expecting to see the man standing there.

“The old house!” cried Belinda. “I remember it so well. And there’s the house at Manorleigh … Manor Grange. Do you go there often?”

“Yes, now and then.”

“I loved it. All that antiquity and the ghost … the ghosts. You remember the ghosts, Lucie.”

Indeed I remembered. So did Celeste, I saw from her expression. She was remembering Belinda’s playing the ghost of my mother, which had given her such a fright.

I wondered that Belinda, who could not have forgotten the incident, should have had the insensitivity to mention it. I thought then, she hasn’t changed at all.

We alighted from the carriage.

Belinda looked at me and suddenly said, “This must be where it happened.”

I nodded.

“It must have been terrible for you.”

“Please,” I whispered, “not now …”

“No, of course not. This is a homecoming … the return of the prodigal. But I am not that, am I? My departure was all quite natural and seemed so right at the time.”

“Come along in,” I said. “The servants are all agog to see you.”

She smiled, well pleased, and, with Celeste, we went into the house.

Celeste had decided that she should have a room close to mine. Hers also had a balcony which looked down on the street.

“Oh, it’s lovely,” she cried. “I shall be able to look down and see what is going on. And I shall love knowing that you are close, Lucie.”

There were just the three of us for dinner that night. Belinda talked more than Celeste and I did. She told us about the goldfields and what a strange life it was. She spoke sadly of Leah. I do believe she had really loved her mother; and she was affectionate about Tom Marner.

“He was wonderful to us both,” she told us. “And at first it was very exciting. Then I began to get homesick. We weren’t so far from Melbourne. Tom used to take us there and we would stay for a few days. That was the highlight. We entertained now and then in the house we had there. It was quiet by goldfield standards. What about Rebecca? She’d remember it, of course.”

“She will be coming up to London sometime.”

“How is she? She has children, hasn’t she?”

“Two … Alvina and Jake. They are darlings.”

I fancied she felt a little uneasy about Rebecca, as well she might. I supposed Rebecca had forgiven her. I wondered if Pedrek would ever be able to forget. There would almost certainly be a little embarrassment between them when they met.

“Does … my father ever come here?” she asked suddenly.

Celeste looked a little flustered.

Belinda noticed this and went on, “Well, he is my father, isn’t he? He doesn’t deny it, does he? My mother told me all about it—how young and innocent she was, and how it never occurred to her that he would not marry her. Do you think he will want to see me?”

“I … I don’t know,” said Celeste.

“
I
want to see him.”

“Perhaps … one day …” murmured Celeste.

“It was all so dramatic, and it all happened so quickly. One day I was the daughter of the house and the next Leah was my mother and Monsieur Bourdon my father. Then I was whisked away. I often thought how strange it all was and wondered how he and I would get on if ever we met.”

“We shall have to see how things turn out,” said Celeste vaguely.

It was an uncomfortable meal. Belinda had always been outspoken and had never shown any respect for conventional modes of behavior.

I was glad when it was over and I was sure Celeste was, too. She suggested we retire as we must all be tired after the excitement of the day.

I had not been in my room long before there was a tap on the door. I knew at once that it was Belinda.

“A bit stilted, wasn’t it?” she said. “Dear old Celeste! I don’t think she wants me here.”

“She does. You are her niece. You’re related to her as you are not to me.”

“Oh, but you and I were always special, weren’t we? We didn’t need family ties. We were brought up together. Then we swapped families. That never ceases to make me marvel. Tell me about everything. What a lot of deaths! First … I always think of him as our father, for I believed he was mine for so long. Well, he’s dead now. I always hated him and he hated me too. He thought I killed your mother by getting born. And I was not the one after all. It was you.”

“He never held it against me.”

“No. I was the one he hated. He couldn’t believe that his sainted Annora had given birth to such a monster.”

“You were indeed a little monster at times, you know.”

She laughed. “I know. I was a monster by nature. No wonder he was relieved when he found out I wasn’t his.”

I was silent. I knew that was true.

“Then he got his dear little Lucie; and he seemed to be rather pleased about that.”

“He was,” I said defiantly. “We were very good friends.”

“The Wilberforces knew all about the way he died. They brought newspapers with them when they came and I was able to read about those little suppers and everything and how you were with him when it happened. What an awful thing!”

“It was awful.”

“Somebody didn’t like him … besides me.”

“Please don’t be flippant about it, Belinda. I just can’t endure that.”

“Sorry. I’m really sorry, Lucie. But as I was saying … all those deaths. Dear Leah … I couldn’t bear that. Not to have her there anymore. She had always been there. I loved Leah. I loved her for all she went through for me. It was bad enough when Tom died … but Leah …”

“I understand, Belinda. Only it’s hard to talk about it now. It seems too soon.”

“Everything is different now, is it not? Little Lucie … you were always so meek … just asking people to put on you … always the little waif.”

“I thought I was. And you took pains to remind me of it if I were inclined to forget.”

“That was the little monster again. I’m sorry, Lucie. I’m going to be different now.”

“I hope you will be. We have suffered a great shock … Celeste and I. He meant a great deal to us both. We are having to readjust ourselves. Please don’t make trouble.”

“Trouble! My dear Lucie. I am going to help you … to take your minds off it.”

“Our minds are so much on it that it will be very difficult to take them off.”

“Leah used to say that I’d be better in London. I’d meet people. She wanted a good future for me.”

“Of course. She was your mother.”

“I suppose he wanted the same for you.”

“I don’t think he thought about it much. We were very important to each other.”

“He wanted to keep you with him, I expect. The devoted daughter and all that. He wouldn’t want to share you with a husband.”

“I don’t know. But he has gone now …”

“And in a most horrible fashion. Everything that happened to him had to be dramatic. He was, as they say, larger than life, so spectacular things had to happen to him. And his going was the most spectacular of them all.”

“Belinda …”

“All right. I won’t talk of it. You and I, Lucie, are growing up. If all this hadn’t happened, people would be saying it was time we thought about getting married. Has anyone asked you?”

I was silent for a while, then she cried out, “Someone has! Oh, Lucie. Just fancy … you! Tell me about it.”

I hesitated, but I guessed that she would hear sooner or later, so I told her about Joel.

She was intrigued. “Disappeared! My dear Lucie, you do attract disaster. Disappeared in Buganda! On a mission! It’s so thrilling. Oh, he’ll come back, then you can be married. It will be a wonderful wedding. All the press will be there. He … a Member of Parliament … and all this happening to him. He must come back. It’s hard to think of you …
you,
Lucie … in the midst of all this.”

“And what of you?” I asked.

“Well, I haven’t lived in such exciting surroundings, have I? There are no Members of Parliament, terrorists and expeditions to Africa. Just imagine the goldfields. …”

“My mother used to tell Rebecca about them and Rebecca told me. The campfires and the celebrations when someone found gold. I heard about the songs they used to sing and the shacks the miners and their families used to live in. …”

I paused and she went on, “Yes, it was like that. I expect it has improved a bit. I was in the big house, of course, and it wasn’t so bad, but I used to long to come home … except when we went to Melbourne. That’s a fine city. I used to look forward to our trips there. But then Tom became ill.”

“He always seemed so hale and hearty when he was here.”

“It was his heart. He had to have a manager. That was when Henry Farrell came.”

I waited eagerly, for clearly she wanted to talk about Henry Farrell.

“He was good-looking … one of those men made to command. Very sunburned, as most of them are over there. He took over from Tom. He knew how to deal with men.”

“You sound as though you were attracted by him.”

“I was.”

“And he?”

“He was besotted about me.”

“I guessed that was coming.”

“He wanted to marry me. You see, you are not the only one who has had a proposal.”

“And you declined?”

“I knew in time that I did not want to spend all my life in the goldfields. I had already made up my mind that I wanted to come home. I would have persuaded them to pay a visit to England. I thought Tom ought to have treatment in London. But then he died and we found out that the mine wasn’t doing as much as it should … but Henry Farrell stayed on … and then he asked me.”

“He probably had his eye on the mine.”

“Well, you might expect that. But I wasn’t Tom’s daughter … only his stepdaughter. But there was no one else and he’d always looked on Leah’s daughter as his. I liked Henry. He was a fine man. If things had been different …”

“What did he think about your leaving?”

“He was devastated, poor man. Tell me … what do you think about my father?”

“I don’t know very much about him. He’s in the wine business, I think. He goes to France now and then. I believe he has a house in London. We don’t see much of him. I believe he goes to the family in Farnborough quite a lot. They moved from Chislehurst when the Empress Eugenie did. I believe there is a sort of court there.”

“How exciting! I’d love to go there.”

“It’s only a court in exile. Don’t expect Versailles in the time of the Sun King.”

“I wonder if he ever thinks of me. Where does the family live in Farnborough?”

“In a house called The Red House, I believe. I’ve heard Celeste mention it. That would be their parents’ home. I don’t know if he has his own house there. I daresay he moves around too much to want a place of his own.”

“A man ought to be aware of his daughter’s existence. I must get his address and write to him. I wonder if Celeste will give it to me. I fancy she does not want to bring us together.”

“Well, he knows of your existence. If he wants to see you I daresay he will.”

“Some people need a bit of prodding. Give me his address.”

“I don’t have it.”

“I daresay The Red House, Farnborough, would be enough.”

“Why don’t you ask Celeste?”

“I think she might warn him and put him on his guard.”

“Well, if you think it would have that effect, wouldn’t it be better to leave it alone?”

“But I don’t want to leave it alone. I want him to be aware of me. I want to visit the court at Farnborough.”

“Why?”

“I rather fancy moving in royal circles. I am sure everyone must know The Red House, Farnborough. After all, in a way it would be connected with the resident royalty.”

Her eyes were dancing with excitement and she brought back many memories of the past. I knew then that her life in the Australian goldfields had not changed her one bit.

She said, “You are looking sleepy, Lucie. I am going now so I will leave you to your slumbers.”

I knew she wanted to get away. In the past, I remembered, when she had made up her mind to do something she would have no delay. It had to be done immediately.

I knew she was going off to write a letter to her father.

A few days had passed. There was still no news of Joel. I had to admit that having Belinda in the house did ease the tension to some degree, and that certain melancholy was less apparent. Belinda refused to be sad; and somehow she carried us along with her.

She was delighted with London and I could not help being caught up, to some extent, in her enthusiasm. There were only occasional moments when she slipped into solemnity, thinking of Leah; but it was only a passing sadness and she seemed determined to throw it off quickly.

There was no doubt that she was overjoyed to be back. Even Celeste cheered up a little. She could not help smiling at Belinda’s exuberance. I think she felt mildly intrigued because Belinda was her niece. She had always craved affection which she had never received from her rather formal parents, and as for her brother, I imagined he was far too immersed in his own affairs to think much about his sister. Celeste would have liked to bestow her affections on Belinda; I was a little dubious as to whether that would bring her satisfaction. I knew too much of the old Belinda not to know that she could not give Celeste the affection she craved.