Authors: Philippa Carr
He and his wife had longed for a child and had had to wait some time for Morwenna. When she came she had been the center of their lives and now Pedrek and the children made up for the fact that she lived chiefly in London where her husband managed the transport of tin and matters which could not be easily dealt with in Cornwall.
We were all welcomed warmly but I noticed the Pencarrons could not take their eyes from the children.
They wanted to know how Pedrek was, although they must have seen him a few days before. We all had a lavish meal which was typical of Pencarron hospitality. The children had to be at the table with us, for their grandparents could not bear to be deprived of their company even for a short while; and there was a great deal of laughter.
When this was over the children wanted to play in the garden and were allowed to do so; and we sat before the French windows so that we could watch them while we talked.
Coffee was served and Mrs. Pencarron was saying that we should come more often, and weren’t the little ones growing, and Jake was going to be the image of Pedrek. You could see it already, and Alvina was a little madam, wasn’t she?
“The country air is so good for them,” said Josiah.
“I can’t tell you how relieved we were when Pedrek decided he wanted to take over the mine,” added his wife.
“We thought he might have wanted to join his father in London, but he had the good sense to choose this.”
“It wouldn’t have been any good for the children up there.”
“We do have our parks, you know,” I said.
“Parks,” snorted Josiah. “You can’t compare them with the moors and the sea.”
“They are very pleasant,” said Rebecca.
“I reckon the country air is better,” insisted Josiah. “Life’s safer here, I reckon.”
“Well, there is the occasional accident in the mines and then the fishermen have a bad time when the storms arise.”
“You get disasters everywhere. What about those Members of Parliament?”
“On the whole they’re safe enough.”
“I was talking about those two. It was in the papers this morning. Have you seen the morning paper?”
“No … not yet. We thought we’d better get here early. We didn’t stop for very much.”
“You wouldn’t have seen it then. Apparently they were in Africa … or somewhere. Two of them … they’re missing.”
I said quickly, “Where were they?”
“They were visiting there with some others …”
“Was it Buganda?”
“Now you come to mention it, I think it was. Gone out for the government or something … some fact-finding mission, they called it. Well, two of them have disappeared. The rest of them are coming home … quick. It seems they were not well received by the natives.”
“I … I know the mission you are talking about,” I said. “In fact, I know very well one of the members who went out. He was a friend of … my father … of the family. Who are the two who are missing?”
“It did say their names, but I don’t remember.”
He could see that I was uneasy.
Rebecca was looking at me anxiously.
“Perhaps we could see the paper?” she suggested.
“I’m sure you can find it, can’t you, Mother?” said Josiah.
“Of course. Have some more coffee, Rebecca … Lucie?”
I could not concentrate on what they were saying. I kept thinking of Joel and the conversation we had had before he left, when we had declared our feelings for each other and our intentions. Two of them missing, I thought. Oh, not Joel!
It seemed a long time before the paper was found; and when I saw it I almost wished I had not.
I read,
The government mission to Buganda has not been an unqualified success. Some of the natives objected to what they call interference, and there was not always a warm welcome for the delegation. In fact they were often met with some hostility and will be returning home within the next day or so … unfortunately without two members of the party. They are Mr. James Hunter and Mr. Joel Greenham. …
My heart beat faster as I read and the paper trembled in my hands.
It appears that the whole party were at a meeting and, when it was over, prepared to return to their hotel. There was not room on the carriage for them all, and Mr. Hunter and Mr. Greenham, being the youngest members of the party, decided to walk to the hotel. They have not been seen since. Inquiries are being made.
I kept staring at his name. I kept seeing him as he had been when we had planned our future together. “When I come back we will announce our engagement. …”
But he would not come back with the others. What could be happening to him?
Rebecca was saying quietly, “Are you all right, Lucie?”
“It … it’s a shock. This … er …”
“Well, it’s what I was saying,” said Josiah. “Life’s better in the country. You know where you are.”
I don’t know how I got through the time before we left. Rebecca came to my aid and did what she could.
As we drove home she said, “Of course, we know very little yet. It’s probably very exaggerated. We must hear more news later on.”
But I felt bewildered and lost. I was beginning to ask myself what dire tragedy could happen next.
It was indeed hard to imagine that this had happened, following so soon after that other tragedy.
Celeste, who had guessed what the relationship between Joel and me was blossoming into, was most upset. She had had so many troubles of her own that she was always ready to sympathize with others.
“I can’t believe it,” I said. “It’s so soon after. Didn’t Shakespeare say that when troubles came they came not singly but in battalions?”
“This is different,” Celeste assured me. “He’ll come back.”
“What could have happened to him?”
We read more in the papers. But, of course, it was only speculation. The mission had been unpopular, and there was some anxiety expressed concerning the whereabouts of the two missing Members of Parliament.
“There must be an explanation,” said Rebecca. “There will be news soon, I’m sure.”
“But what explanation?” I asked. “What news?”
Rebecca could not reply.
“I must go home soon,” I said.
“Oh no … not yet. You are not ready.”
“I want to be there. I want to know what’s happening. I want to see his family. They might know something.”
“I doubt they will know any more than the authorities.”
“They will be desolate. They dote on him. He’s such a wonderful person, Rebecca.”
“You’ll be better here,” she advised. “Don’t rush away. I can’t bear to think of your going back to that house.”
“I must go, Rebecca.”
“Think about it for a few days.”
I promised I would, and each day I scoured the papers for news. There was none. All I read was, “There is still no news of the missing James Hunter and Joel Greenham.”
I knew that I must go. There was no peace for me here anymore. What I could achieve by going to London I was not sure, but I felt I wanted to be there.
While I was in this state of uncertainty, letters were forwarded on from London. There was one for me and one for Celeste. They were both from Belinda.
Eagerly I slit the envelope.
“Dear Lucie,” I read,
My mother died last week. It has been terrible. I miss her so much. You know she had been ill for a long time and it had to come. I feel lost and lonely. She has always been there for me, and I don’t know what I shall do without her. It’s a great shock, though I have seen it coming for months now. She made me promise that I would come back to England. I said I would and she was so happy and relieved when she had letters from you and Celeste saying that I could come.
Well, the time is here. There are some people from England who were out here visiting their relations in Melbourne. We knew the Melbourne family and, before she died, my mother asked them that if it were possible—by which she meant that if she died before the visitors left—she would be grateful to them if they would let me go back to England with them. She had all the instructions written out and I believe she wanted to die in good time, so that I should be able to go with them. Well, it did work out that way, and I am leaving next month so … unless I hear news from you and Celeste to say you won’t have me … I shall be coming with them.
I heard what happened to your father. It was in the papers here … not much about it … just that he had been shot by a terrorist because he had obstructed some Bill. It must have been a shock for you as you saw it happen.
Lucie, I do so much want to see you. I have often thought of you and wondered about you. In all this terrible time there is one thing I look forward to and that is seeing you.
I’ll let you know dates and arrangements when I am more certain.
In the meantime, I send my love and the hope that I shall be with you before long.
Belinda
I showed the letter to Celeste who gave me hers to read. It was more brief.
Dear Aunt Celeste,
My mother is dead now and her last wish was that I should come to England. She said you had very kindly promised that I could come to you. I will try not to be a burden, but if I can stay until I know what I have to do, I shall be very grateful.
I have written to Lucie and told her about Mr. and Mrs. Wilberforce who have been visiting relations in Melbourne and are going back to England next month. They have promised to let me travel with them, which will be easier for me.
I will let you know details of our sailing soon. Your affectionate and grateful niece,
Belinda
My spirits lifted a little at the prospect of seeing Belinda. The thought kept me from wondering all the time what was happening to Joel.
Celeste was uneasy. I could understand that. She could not help thinking that Belinda had been a source of trouble in the past; but I think she too felt that the prospect of her arrival did stop us brooding all the time as to Joel’s fate.
We showed the letters to Rebecca.
I said, “We shall have to go now. I don’t know how long these letters have taken to get here, but Belinda may well be on her way by now.”
“She says that she will let us know when she is coming.”
“She will. But in view of the distance and the time letters take to get here, she may have started by now.”
It seemed that events were making up my mind for me.
“Don’t go to the London house,” advised Rebecca. “Go to Manorleigh.”
“I feel I have to be in London. I want to see Joel’s parents. And I want to be there … to get ready for Belinda.”
She sighed.
“There will be too much to remind you. …”
“I have to go back, Rebecca.”
“How I wish I could come with you. But I can’t leave Pedrek and the children again so soon.”
“Of course you can’t. Dearest Rebecca, I am very much able to stand on my own feet. I can’t rely all my life on my big sister.”
“ You know I’m always there. You know this place is waiting for you if ever you found it intolerable … elsewhere …”
“It won’t be intolerable. I’ve got to grow away from it. I can’t hide in a shelter forever. Besides, I do want to find out all I can about Joel. And there will be Belinda.”
Rebecca frowned. “I wonder if she will still be the same.”
“We shall both come down to see you, of course.”
She kissed me tenderly. “Take care of yourself, Lucie,” she said. “Remember, I shall be thinking of you.”
My return to London meant that my uneasiness was increasing.
As soon as I was alone in my room, I went to the window, half-expecting to see a figure there under the street lamp, although it was broad daylight. The thought occurred to me that I ought to change rooms. That would be cowardly, I decided. No. I must fight against my fears.
I was becoming more and more convinced that Rebecca’s theory was correct. I must have imagined those pebbles at the window; a man had been down there, true, and he was in a merry mood. He had bowed to me and I had thought I saw the widow’s peak, and the scar.
I must take a firm hold on my imagination. I must make it work for me, not against me.
I was glad that Celeste was with me. She had her own sorrow to contend with. But at least there was no sense of guilt attached to hers. That was what was forever in the back of my mind. Was it possible that I had helped to send an innocent man to the gallows?
The day after my arrival in town, I went to see Sir John and Lady Greenham.
Theirs was a house of sadness and terrible apprehension. They greeted me with affection.
“My dear, dear Lucie,” said Lady Greenham. “This is a great blow to us. I was all against his going from the first. How I wish I had managed to persuade him.”
“Is there any news? All I know is what I saw in the Cornish paper.”
“There is very little known,” said Sir John. “He just vanished into thin air. He left this meeting with the others … when he and James Hunter decided to walk.”
“They should never have done that,” said Lady Greenham, “in those foreign places.”
“But what is being
done
about it?”
“All sorts of things are in motion,” said Sir John. “You see, it is a political matter. The government wants to get at the truth … diplomatically. It is, after all, a government matter. At the same time they don’t want to put a strain on our relations with Buganda.”
“So they think it is entirely because of the business on which he is engaged?”
“That seems to be the official view. I shouldn’t think it is just an ordinary case of robbery … and … er … disposing of the victims.”
“Oh, John!” cried Lady Greenham. “For Heaven’s sake, don’t talk like that.”
“We have to face facts, my dear. In some of these places it’s not safe to walk out at night.”
“Joel should have known better,” said Lady Greenham.
“You can see how it happened,” went on Sir John. “The carriage took as many as it could, and the two youngest members of the party naturally agreed to walk.”
“And during that walk … they disappeared,” I said.
“That’s about it.”
“But you say the authorities are doing something about it. They are not just letting it pass.”