House of the Lost (48 page)

‘No, but—’

‘We’re only here overnight. Well, we can even go back this evening.’

‘It’s the sketch,’ said Lesley, as Guff turned to pay the driver. She extricated a flat package from the taxi and Theo recognized it as Charmery’s portrait. ‘I talked to Guff first thing this morning, and we thought we’d better come down to discuss it all with you. It’s quite complicated. I told the gallery I’d need another couple of days’ holiday, and we caught the ten o’clock train.’

Guff was delighted to be at Fenn again. ‘After so many years. My word, I wouldn’t like to count how many years it is since I was here, although I must say the old place is looking a bit . . .’

Theo expected Guff to fuss and fluff around for his customary half an hour, but for once he did not. He came into the dining room where Lesley had set the sketch on the table.

‘I spent most of the night staring at it, trying to work out who it was,’ said Lesley. ‘Because if it wasn’t Charmery – and I didn’t see how it could be – I couldn’t think who it was. Then I thought that Guff knows more about this family than anyone, so I phoned him early this morning to tell him about it.’

‘I took a taxi to Lesley’s flat,’ said Guff. ‘I don’t usually go to Earl’s Court, you know, so I wasn’t sure of the way. My word, that area’s changed.’

‘Don’t guffle,’ said Theo affectionately, and saw Lesley grin at the use of the familiar childhood word.

‘As soon as I saw the sketch I knew it wasn’t Charmery,’ said Guff.

‘Then who is it?’

‘It’s your mother,’ said Guff. ‘It’s a drawing of Petra when she was very young.’

‘You’re wrong,’ said Theo for the twentieth time. ‘You must be. It can’t be my mother.’ But something stirred uneasily in his mind. Charmery and I, he thought. Half brother and sister – the same father. If that’s true, why would Charmery resemble my mother so closely? He reached out to trace the outlines of the face with a fingertip as if by doing so he could draw out its past.

‘There’s no question about it,’ said Guff. ‘I was around when your mother first came into this family and this is exactly how she looked. And what’s more, she’s wearing the pendant your father gave her to mark your birth.’ He too put out a hand to the picture, touching the pencilled line of the Victorian-looking pendant which Theo had not recognized. He glanced at Guff and saw a deep sadness in the china-blue eyes.

‘I remember her wearing it,’ Guff said, ‘and I remember this is how she wore her hair in those days. It’s definitely Petra. This is how she looked all those years ago. I admired her so much when she first came into this family, you know,’ he said. ‘I remember Nancy was quite sharp with me about it: she said she hoped I wasn’t going off on some silly sentimental journey. I thought that was unfair of her,’ said Guff mildly. ‘I’m not a sentimentalist, even if people use the word nowadays which I don’t think they do. D’you know, I sometimes wonder how Nancy copes with teaching modern teenagers.’

‘It doesn’t look much like my mother,’ said Theo.

‘No, but when your father died, Theo, it altered Petra. Mentally and physically, I mean. She was absolutely devastated. She changed in some very deep way I never understood. And she was ill for a long time.’ He looked down at the portrait again. ‘She shut everyone out,’ he said. ‘She went off somewhere with you – none of us had any contact with her – then later, she and Helen went on holiday together – I was always very glad to think Helen was such a good friend to Petra,’ said Guff. ‘Nancy was livid about it because she would have liked to go with them.’

‘Fearsome,’ said Lesley and Theo both together.

‘I expect it would have been. You weren’t quite at school, Theo, and you stayed with Lesley’s parents while Petra was away. That was before Lesley or the boys were born, of course. And you stayed with me for a while, as well. You were a solemn, silent child in those days.’

‘Beautifully behaved?’ said Theo, trying for a light-hearted note, inwardly grappling with what Guff was saying.

‘Actually, you
were
very well behaved. I expect you only remember those years in patches, though; you were only four. When Petra finally got back – when she started to be part of the world again, she was different,’ said Guff. ‘Thinner and her eyes were different – as if there was no light in them any longer.’ He looked at Theo, who saw a shimmer of tears in Guff’s own eyes. Partially understanding but not wanting to pry, he put out a tentative hand to pat Guff’s. For a moment the old fingers closed tightly round Theo’s, then Guff said firmly, ‘Lot of slop,’ and mopped his eyes with his handkerchief. Despite his own inner turmoil, Theo smiled at this time-honoured Kendal remark. He saw Lesley smile as well. She leaned over to kiss Guff’s cheek.

Guff blinked several times, then said, in a determinedly prosaic voice, ‘I never saw the strong likeness between Petra and Charmery, though. Not until now.’

‘But,’ said Theo, ‘why would Charmery look like my mother?’

‘Yes,’ said Guff slowly, ‘why indeed?’

‘Theo?’ said Petra into the phone. ‘Is anything wrong? Are you still at Fenn?’

‘Yes. Lesley’s here as well, and Guff. We’ve had a bit of a trauma, but everyone’s fine. No, I won’t go into the details now,’ he said, as she started to ask what had happened. ‘The thing is, we’ve hit on a mystery and you’re the only one who can explain it. But I think it’s going to dredge up part of your past that might be painful.’ Even over the phone he was aware of a sudden stillness. He realized he was gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles were white. He took several deep breaths. ‘When I got here there was a framed sketch of a young woman. I thought it was Charmery, but it isn’t. It’s a twenty-year-old sketch – Lesley’s more or less confirmed that – and Guff says it’s you.’

‘Oh God,’ she said. ‘Oh God, Matthew’s sketch. I never knew what happened to it. I supposed it was just put away in a box somewhere.’

Theo had not realized how strongly he had wanted to hear her say she knew nothing about it. ‘So it really was Matthew’s work. And it really is you.’ It was an extraordinary feeling to be talking to his mother about Matthew.

‘Yes, it’s me,’ she was saying. ‘But Theo I can’t possibly explain over the phone. I suppose I hoped you’d never know. I can’t imagine how you’ve found out about Matthew.’ She broke off, then said, ‘Listen, I’ll drive down this afternoon. No, don’t argue, this will have to be sorted out. What time is it? Just on one. I can set off in half an hour. I should be with you by about four.’

‘But . . .’ began Theo, but Petra had already rung off.

He turned to see Lesley standing in the doorway of the room.

‘Matthew again,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t help hearing that. The same Matthew who did the convent sketches?’

‘Yes.’

‘And probably the one of Aunt Petra?’

‘Let’s make some lunch,’ said Theo. ‘It seems years since I had breakfast. I’ll tell you while we eat.’

He told Lesley and Guff the whole story while they ate soup and hastily cut sandwiches, and he was deeply grateful to them both for listening and not ridiculing anything. He described to them the galaxy of people he had believed to be his own invention, but who were turning out to be real. Annaleise and Sister Teresa. Matthew and Mara and Mikhail and their strange uneasy life in Romania. ‘They’ve all turned out to be actual people,’ he said. ‘Documented. Mikhail and Mara are here. I’ve met them, and you’ve met Mara, Lesley.’

‘Sister Miriam,’ said Lesley, who had listened with absorption to Theo’s story, her eyes huge and fascinated. ‘She came with us to look at the paintings on Monday. Very quiet – rather watchful of everyone. What’s Mikhail – Michael Innes like?’

‘Intelligent and serious. Nice.’

‘Whatever else he is,’ put in Guff, ‘he must be incredibly brave to do what he did. Dear me, I remember all those dreadful news reports about Romania – the orphanages, the political prisons. We never knew the half of what went on in those years. So many tragedies. You know, I do wonder how you plugged into all this, Theo.’

‘So do I,’ said Theo, wryly.

‘I suppose you read it all somewhere and forgot about it. I mean, it’s the only explanation.’

‘Yes,’ said Theo, unconvinced. ‘Oh, and there’s also this.’ He reached for the convent’s book, and opened it at the page with the photo taken of the Romanian convent.

‘Until this morning I’d have said that was Charmery,’ said Lesley, leaning over to look.

‘So would I. But what if it’s my mother?’

‘I’d say it
is
your mother,’ said Guff, peering at the page.

‘But what was she doing in Romania? I never knew she’d been there, did you, Guff?’

‘No, but she’s always travelled about a good bit. Is there another sandwich to be had? Thank you. What about Matthew and Andrei? And Elisabeth? Is there any way of tracing them?’

‘I don’t know. Michael might know.’

‘I hope at any rate Matthew found Andrei and got him out of Jilava,’ said Lesley.

‘So do I,’ said Theo. ‘When Michael told me about leaving Matthew in Jilava, one of the things that came strongly across was that although he tried to hide it, Matthew was very frightened.’

Romania, early 1980s

Matthew thought he had managed to hide from Mikhail and Mara how extremely frightened he was at being inside Jilava on his own. As he went deeper into the prison’s labyrinth, going stealthily along the dank stone passageways, he was trying not to remember how gaunt and strange Mara had looked or the way another person – a stranger – had seemed to look at him from her eyes.

He squared his shoulders, deliberately adopting a stance of authority, and began to walk. Authority, thought Matthew, that’s what I must convey if I meet anyone. Authority and a sense of familiarity – as if I know all about this place.

His plan to search for his father was simple: he would work his way systematically along the stone corridors, opening every door he came to. He could not think what he would do if he did not have keys to them all, or if the knocked-out guard was found and described his assailant. But surely if the guard had been found already, Jilava would be echoing with the sounds of warning bells, shouts and running feet.

As he went down the stone steps to the lower level, he encountered two guards. His heart leapt with panic and he expected to be recognized as a stranger and pounced on. He managed to nod casually, and experienced a huge relief when they seemed to accept him, nodding back and continuing on their way. It’s all right at the moment, thought Matthew, but it could go all wrong at any minute.

He assumed he would have to unlock doors to look inside the cells. This was worrying him because there were ten or twelve keys on the keyring and it would be time-consuming and noticeable to try them one at a time. But quite a number of the doors were unlocked; they turned out to be storage rooms or offices. Twice people were working at desks, but each time Matthew glanced round the room as if looking for someone, sketched a brief salute, murmured an apology, and went out again. But his heart was hammering and sweat was sliding slickly between his shoulder blades, and he knew he was treading a very precarious tightrope.

He worked his way along, eventually reaching several intersecting passages in the bowels of the old fortress. The doors here had small spy holes at eye level. That means it’ll be easy to look inside each one, then move to the next, thought Matthew, knowing it would not be easy at all, knowing that finally and at last he was faced with the nightmare of his childhood. The stone corridors with people locked away in dank stone cells. The forgotten ones, the people whom the world barely remembered. I’ve walked these corridors in my mind, he thought, horrified. But how did I know about them? How did I get it all so right? How did I know that human creatures were herded into such places and I would feel this knife-twisting pity at seeing them?

But here and there he saw unmistakable defiance in the faces and eyes of some prisoners, and it heartened him, even though by this time he was shaking with pity and anger. Deep down a new fear was unfolding. If Andrei was here for ten years, and Jilava might have broken him as it had so obviously broken these prisoners, he might be weak, beaten, despairing, Matthew would find that hard to bear. Even harder to bear was the knowledge he might not even recognize his father.

But he did. He looked through a spy hole and saw six men in the cell. He looked at the one who sat nearest the window and a wave of emotion so strong it almost blinded him, engulfed him.

His hands were shaking so badly he thought he would not be able to unlock the door. Then he thought the key to this particular cell was not on the keyring, and he could have wept with frustration and his own ineptness. He peered through the tiny square of window again and saw the men had heard him. They were looking up, vaguely questioning of this guard who fumbled and took so long. Matthew swore under his breath and jammed another key into the lock. It turned, the door swung open, and he saw the figure by the window stand up and walk towards him.

The present

Petra arrived at Fenn House just after four o’clock. She hugged Theo and Lesley, told Guff he was looking terrific, and went upstairs to unpack and wash. When she came down again she went straight to Matthew’s sketch which Theo had put back in its original place.

‘So it was here all the time,’ she said, half to herself. ‘I always wondered what happened to it.’

‘I’d never seen it before,’ said Theo, ‘but it looks as if Charmery found it and decided to put it on display. I thought,’ he said, carefully, ‘that it actually was Charmery.’

‘Charmery,’ said Petra in an odd, expressionless voice. ‘Yes, I see.’ She appeared to give herself a small shake, and came to sit down facing Theo. ‘So here’s the truth,’ she said, ‘and probably it should have been told a long time ago.’

Theo had the impression that she squared her shoulders, as if to take on an invisible weight. ‘When your father died,’ said Petra, ‘I was deeply saddened, but – this will sound heartless – I wasn’t as grief-stricken as everyone believed.’ She made a brief gesture. ‘He was charming and attractive, but he was also a womanizer.’ She sent Guff a quick smile. ‘You knew that,’ she said.