Bride of Pendorric (17 page)

” It keeps her busy—that and the house.”

She had turned the old stables into a workshop and had her oven there.

” She’ll never make a fortune out of her pottery,” our host commented.

” Too much mass-production against her.”

” Not a fortune, but a lot of pleasure,” retorted the doctor. ” And it pleases her that there’s a small profit in it.”

There was no chess that day, and when I got up to go, the doctor said he had his car outside and would drive me home.

I told him that there was no need, but he insisted that he went past Pendorric, so I accepted.

As we drove along he asked if I always made the journey from Pendorric to Polhorgan by the top road, and I said that there were three ways of getting there: by that road, by Smugglers’ Lane and the short cut, and by way of the beach and the gardens.

” If I’m in a hurry,” I told him, ” I take the short cut.”

” Oh yes,” he said, ” you can save quite five minutes that way. Once there was a road there with houses on either side. I found an old map the other day. It gives you some idea how the sea is gradually encroaching on the land. It couldn’t have been more than a hundred and fifty years old. Why not come along now and meet Mabell? She’d be delighted to see you, and I’d run you back.”

I looked at my watch, and thinking that Roe might already be home, said that I didn’t really think I had time.

He dropped me at Pendorric. I thanked him and he gave me a friendly wave as his car roared away.

I turned to the house. There was no one in sight, and I stood for a while under the arch and looked up at the inscription in Cornish. It was a grey day; there had been no sun lately; nor would there be. Roe had told me, until the wind changed. It was now blowing straight in from the southwest—soft and balmy, the sort of wind that made one’s skin glow.

The gulls seemed even more mournful than usual today, but that may have been because of the greyness of the sea and the leaden sky. I walked round the house to the south side and stood for a moment looking down on the garden, but even the colours of the flowers seemed subdued.

I went into the house, and as soon as I entered the hall my eyes fixed themselves on the portrait of Barbarina. I was afraid they were making a habit of doing that. The eyes in the picture followed me as I passed the suits of armour and started to go up the stairs. I went up to the gallery and stood right beneath the portrait looking up at it, and as Barbarina’s eyes looked straight into mine I could almost imagine the lips curved into a smile—a warm, inviting smile.

I was really being rather silly, I told myself.

The hall was gloomy to-day because it was so grey outside. If the sun were shining through those big mullioned windows it would seem quite different.

Was Roe home, I wondered. There was a great deal to be done on the farm and about the estate, and that work was still very much in arrears, because he had been abroad so long.

I walked along the gallery to the corridor. Several of the windows were open and I could never seem to resist looking down at the quadrangle. And as I stood there I could distinctly hear the music of a violin.

I threw up the window and leaned out. Yes, there was no doubt about it; and one of the windows on the east side was opened. Was the sound coming from the east wing?

It might well be. I was sure it was. My eyes went to the second floor.

If someone were playing in the music room could I hear from across the corridor and the quadrangle?

I was ashamed of feeling so frightened. I was not going to be taken in by my foolish imagination. I reminded myself of the day Carrie had come into the music room while I was there, and how scared I had been because she went creeping around calling Barbarina; as soon as I had seen that it was Carrie I had ceased to be scared; I was not the least bit taken in by her talk of ” stirring.”

I began to walk resolutely round the corridor to the east wing. As I went in I heard the violin again. I hurried up the stairs to the music room.

There was no sound of the violin now. I threw open the door. The violin lay on the chair; the music was on the stand. There was no one in the room and I felt the stillness of the house close about me.

Then suddenly I heard the shriek of a gull outside the window. It seemed to be laughing at me.

Because I was not anxious to stay in the house, I decided to go for a walk in the direction of the home farm, hoping to meet Roe. As I walked I reasoned with myself: Someone in the house plays the violin, and you presumed it came from the east wing because you had seen the violin there. If you really are disturbed about it, the simplest thing is to find out who in the house plays the violin and casually mention that you heard it being played. Out of doors everything seemed so much more rational than it did in the house. As I climbed on to the road and walked across the fields in a northerly direction I was quickly recovering my good spirits. I had not walked this way before and I was delighted to explore fresh ground. The countryside seemed restful after the rugged coast views, and I was charmed by the greenish-gold of the freshly mown fields and the scarlet of the poppies growing here and there. I particularly noticed the occasional tree, slightly bent by the southwest gales, but taller than those stunted and distorted ones which survived along the coast. I could smell the fragrance of meadow-sweet growing on the banks mingling with the harebells and scabious.

And while I was contemplating all this I heard the sound of a car, and to my delight saw it was Roe’s.

He pulled up and put his head out of the window.

” This is a pleasant surprise.”

” I’ve never walked this way. I thought I’d come and meet you.”

” Get in,” he commanded.

When he hugged me I felt secure again and very glad I had come. ” I got back from Polhorgan to find no one around, so I decided I wouldn’t stay in.”

Roe started the car. ” And how was the old man today?”

” He seemed to have quite recovered.”

” I believe that’s how it is with his complaint. Poor old fellow, it must be a trial for him, yet he’s cheerful enough … about his health.”

” I think he’s very brave.”

Roe gave me a quick look. ” Relations still remain friendly?”

” Of course.”

” Not everyone gets along with him so well. I’m glad you do.”

” I’m still surprised that you should be when you so obviously don’t like him.”

” The lady of the manor has always gone round visiting the sick. It’s an old custom. You’ve started well.”

” Surely the custom was to visit the sickly poor and take them soup and blankets.”

Roe burst out laughing. ” Imagine your arriving at Polhorgan with a bowl of soup and a red flannel blanket, and handing them to Dawson for the deserving millionaire!”

” This is quite a different sort of visiting anyway.”

” Is it? He wants company; they wanted comforts.

Same thing, but in a different form. No, really, darling, I’m delighted that you’re able to bring sunshine into the old man’s life.

You’ve brought such lots into mine, I can spare him a little. What do you talk about all the time? Does he tell you about his wicked family who deserted him? “

” He hasn’t mentioned his family.”

” He will. He’s waiting for the opportunity.”

” By the way,” I said, ” I heard someone playing the violin this afternoon. Who would it have been?”

” The violin?” Roe screwed up his eyes as though puzzled.

“Where?”

” I wasn’t sure where. I thought it was in the east wing.”

” Hardly anyone goes there except old Carrie. Can’t believe she’s turned virtuoso. In our youth, Morwenna and I had a few lessons. They soon discovered, in my case at least, that it was no use trying to cultivate stony ground. Morwenna wasn’t bad. But she dropped all that when she married Charles. Charles is tone-deaf—wouldn’t know a Beethoven concerto from God Save the Queen’; and Morwenna is the devoted wife. Everything that Charles thinks, she thinks; you could take her as a model, darling.”

“So you’re the only two who could play the violin?”

” Wait a minute. Rachel gave the twins lessons at one time, I believe. Lowella takes after me and is about as talented in that direction as a bull calf. Hyson, now … she’s different. I think Hyson was quite good at it.”

” It could have been Hyson or Rachel I heard playing.”

” You seem very interested. Not thinking of taking it up yourself? Or are you a secret genius? There’s a lot I don’t know about you, Favel, even though you are my wife.”

” And there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

” What a good thing we have the rest of our lives in which to discover one another.”

As we came on to the coast road we met Rachel, and Roe slowed down the car for her to get in.

” I’ve been looking for the twins,” she told us. ” They went shrimping this afternoon, down at Tregallic Cove.”

” I hope you took advantage of your respite,” Roe said. ” I did. I went for a long walk as far as German’s Bay. I had tea there and planned to pick them up on the way back. I expect they’ve already gone home.”

” Favel thought she heard you playing the violin this afternoon.” I turned and looked at Rachel. Her expression seemed faintly scornful, her sandy eyes more sly than usual.

” You’d hardly have heard me on the road from German’s Bay.”

” It must have been Hyson, then.”

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. ” I don’t think Hyson will qualify for the concert platform, and I’d be surprised if she deserted shrimps for music.”

As we were going to the house the twins arrived, with their shrimping nets and a pail in which Lowelia carried their catch. Rachel said: ” By the way. Hyson, you didn’t come back and play your violin this afternoon?”

Hyson looked bewildered.

“Whatever for?” she said. ” Your Aunt Favel thought she heard you.”

“Oh,” said Hyson thoughtfully.

“She didn’t hear me playing it.” She turned away abruptly, and I was sure it was because she didn’t want me to see that Rachel’s remark had excited her.

The next day it rained without stopping and continued through the night.

” There’s nothing unusual about that, ” “Roe told me. ” It’s another old Cornish custom. You’ll begin to understand why ours is the greenest grass in this green and pleasant land. “

The soft southwest wind was blowing, and everything one touched seemed damp.

The following day the rain was less constant, though the louring sky promised more to come. The sea was muddy brown about the shore, and farther out it was a dull greyish-green.

Roe was going off to the farm, and as I had decided that I would go along to Polhorgan to complete that unfinished game of chess, he drove me there on his way.

Lord Polhorgan was delighted to see me; we had tea as usual and played our game of chess, which he won.

He liked to have an inquest after it was over, and point out where I had given him the game. It put him in a good humour and I enjoyed it, because, after all, the purpose of my visits was to give him pleasure.

As I was leaving. Dr. Clement called. He was getting out of his car as I came out by the unicorns, and looked disappointed. ” Just leaving? ” he said.

” Yes, I’ve stayed rather longer than I meant to.”

” Mabell is very much looking forward to meeting you.”

” Tell her I’m also looking forward to it.”

” I’ll get her to telephone you.”

” Please do. How ill is Lord Polhorgan?”

Dr. Clement looked serious. ” One can never be sure with a patient in his condition. He can become seriously ill very quickly.”

” I’m glad Nurse Grey is always at hand.”

“It’s rather essential that he should have someone in attendance. Mind you …”

He did not continue, and I guessed he was about to offer a criticism of Althea Grey and changed his mind.

I smiled. ” Well, I’ll have to hurry. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

He went into the house and I made my way towards the coast road. Then I changed my mind and decided to use the short put. I had not gone far when I realised I’d been rather foolish to come, for the path was a mass of reddish-brown mud and I guessed Smugglers’ Lane would be even worse. I stood still wondering whether to turn back, but as I should have to plough through mud to do so I decided it couldn’t be much worse if I went on. My shoes were filthy by now in any case.

I had not quite reached the narrow ledge when I heard Roe’s voice. ” Favell Stop where you are. Don’t move till I get to you

I turned sharply and saw him coming towards me.

“What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer, but coming close he put out an arm and held me tightly against him for some seconds. Then he said: ” This path is dangerous after a heavy rain. Look! Can you see the cracks in the ‘ground? Part of the cliff has collapsed. It’s unsafe even here.”

He took my arm and drew me back: the way I had come, carefully picking his steps.

When we reached the beginning of the cliff path he stopped and sighed deeply. ” I was thoroughly scared,” he said. ” It suddenly occurred to me. I came hurrying over to Polhorgan and they told me you’d just left. Look back. Can you see where the cliff-side has crumbled? Look at that heap of shale and uprooted bracken half-way down the slope.”

I saw it and shuddered.

” The narrow part is absolutely unsafe,” went on Roe. ” I’m surprised you didn’t see the notice. Come to think of it I didn’t see it myself.”

” It always says This path used at own risk.” But I thought that was for visitors who aren’t used to the cliffs. “

” After heavy rain they take that away and put up another notice: Path unsafe.” Can’t understand why it wasn’t done. ” He was frowning, and then he gave a sudden cry. ” Good lord,” he said, ” I wonder who did this? ” He stooped and picked up a board which was lying face down.

There were two muddy prongs attached to it which clearly had recently been embedded in the ground. ” I don’t see how it could have fallen.

Thank heaven I came. “

” I was going very carefully.”

” You might have managed, but … oh, my God … the risk.” He held me close to him and I was deeply touched because I knew he was anxious that I should not see how frightened he was. He stuck the notice-board into the ground and said gruffly: