The Madness (14 page)

Noah laughed. ‘You are a breath of fresh air, Marnie Gunn. You really are. Come.’ He held his arm out to her and without hesitation she took it and he guided her down the stone steps and on to the beach.

The sea was flat and calm and the moon shone a gentle yellow on its surface. Noah took himself behind a rock to change into his flannel shirt and Marnie pulled off her boots and stripped to her shift. Then Noah held on to Marnie’s hand and they walked into the sea together, sucking in their breaths. The water was hard and bitterly cold, but they sank into it without a murmur. They swam side by side, not speaking or making a splash. After a while Marnie felt the blood rush hot through her body.

She sighed. ‘It’s perfect, isn’t it?’ she whispered to Noah. He didn’t answer. Maybe he hadn’t heard her. But she was glad anyway. She felt they were caught in some strange magical world – just the two of them – and talking would have broken the spell.

Noah was the first to swim back to the shore, and although she could have stayed in the sea all night, Marnie followed him out. He looked a sight standing on the beach, dripping wet and shivering furiously in his flannel shirt. ‘Hurry and get your dry clothes on,’ she said. ‘Then you can take me back to the manor for a warm.’ She was sure she saw him pause for a moment and open his mouth as if to say something. But then he was gone, behind a rock to change. Marnie took off her wet shift and pulled her frock back on. By the time Noah came back, she had her shawl tied around her shoulders and her boots on. Noah came behind her and gathered her hair in his hands. He twisted it and squeezed the seawater from its length.

‘There,’ he said. Marnie’s breath caught in her throat and her heart thumped hot and hard under her ribs.

They walked up the road to the manor in companionable silence. Marnie held on to Noah’s arm and he matched his pace to hers. As they reached the entrance gates he bent his head to her and said, ‘There will be no sliding down the banisters tonight, Marnie. I cannot risk waking Mother. She’s been doing so well lately.’

‘A pot of tea in the kitchen will suit me just fine,’ said Marnie. She wondered why Noah seemed more nervous than usual. He ushered her around the side of the manor and in through the servants’ entrance, his fingers to his lips the whole time. The kitchen fire was burning low and the whole room smelled of warm bread and sweet things. ‘Sally has been baking today,’ said Noah. ‘I will see if I can find us one of her cakes in the pantry.’

‘I’ll make the tea, then,’ Marnie called after him. There was an assortment of teapots on a shelf by the fire next to a stack of cups and saucers. The kettle was on the hearth. When Marnie lifted it she found it still heavy with water. She put it to boil, then looked about for the tea. A silver caddy was on the kitchen table. Marnie picked it up and opened the lid. She sniffed at the black perfumed tea inside. It smelled wonderful, a world away from the cheap sawdust they had at home. As she glanced around for a spoon, a door opened behind her. Thinking it was Noah back with the cake she said, ‘I’ve found everything. Been making meself quite at home, I have.’

‘I can see that!’ said a voice.

Marnie whirled around. It was Hetty, glaring at her from across the room. ‘Who the bleedin’ hell are you?’ she asked Marnie.

Before Marnie could answer, Noah came back into the kitchen carrying a plate of cake. He darted a warning look at Marnie as he walked past her towards the maid.

‘Hetty!’ he said. ‘I am glad you haven’t taken to your bed yet. Would you wrap a portion of cake for this young girl, please? She called at the side door just a moment since, begging for food. I have taken pity on her and granted her a warm by the fire and promised her something to eat.’

‘Oh, sir. I see, sir,’ said Hetty.

Marnie slowly put the tea caddy back on the table. What was happening? She suddenly felt like a thief caught red-handed. She looked to Noah. Surely he was playing games? He would burst out laughing in a moment and tell Hetty that everything was all right; Marnie was his friend from the village, he would tell her. He had invited her to the manor and she was welcome. But Noah didn’t look at her. He turned his back and poked at the kitchen fire while Hetty cut a chunk of the cake and tore a piece of newsprint to wrap it in.

There was silence in the kitchen, save for the scrape of the poker and the crackle of the paper. Marnie wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time, but the stiff set of Noah’s back told her somehow that she must keep quiet.

‘Here.’ Hetty thrust the parcel at Marnie.

‘Much obliged,’ murmured Marnie.

Noah turned from the fire and Marnie saw his face was flushed redder than it should have been with only a feeble flame in the grate. ‘Thank you, Hetty,’ said Noah. ‘I will see the girl out. And Hetty?’

‘Yes, sir?’ said the maid.

‘Please do not trouble yourself to mention this to anyone else. I do not wish Lady de Clevedon to be disturbed by the thought of beggars at our door.’

‘Of course not, sir,’ said Hetty. She curtseyed lightly, then, after flinging a look of contempt at Marnie, she left the kitchen.

Marnie stood frozen, though her head was bursting with rage.

Noah smiled at her tentatively. ‘I am sorry for that, Marnie,’ he said. ‘But thank you for playing along with me.’

‘A beggar?’ Marnie spluttered. ‘You had me down for a beggar?’ She threw the parcel of cake across the kitchen floor.

Noah laughed nervously. ‘Come now, Marnie. You know it was only a game. You are not truly angry with me, are you? You know I had no choice, don’t you? Imagine the gossip and the scandal if our friendship were to be found out!’ He went to her and placed his arm round her shoulder.

‘But a beggar?’ Marnie asked, her anger easing at the touch of him. ‘Do I look like a beggar?’ She stopped and glanced down at herself; at her stocking-less legs and her old frock, still damp at the hem. She put her hand to her hair and felt it a tangle of wet strands.

‘If you look like a beggar,’ said Noah gently, ‘then you are the most beautiful beggar I have ever seen.’

Marnie walked back to the village alone. Noah said it would be for the best. In case Hetty was looking out for her departure from a window somewhere. Marnie tried to stay mad with Noah. She knew she was hurting somewhere inside. She knew she should think the whole evening spoiled. But all she could hear were Noah’s words.
You are the most beautiful beggar I have ever seen
.

35

The Journal of Noah de Clevedon

Clevedon. OCTOBER 25th 1868, Sunday (two o’clock in the afternoon)

I have the most marvellous news! We are very shortly to return to London! Mother has a bloom in her cheeks for all to see and has told me she feels her health almost fully recovered. She confided in me that it was the loss of a child that had sickened her so, but has asked me to say nothing to Father of the matter. ‘He would only grieve to hear the news,’ she said. ‘And there is nothing to be done now.’

I confess I am surprisingly saddened at her revelation. I have always longed for a sibling and I had thought Mother past her child-bearing years. But rather she is still with us than lost to the dangers of childbirth. I will respect her request and say nothing to Father. ‘You are such a comfort to me, Noah,’ she said. I kissed her hair and told her she was the dearest mother of all and I was glad she was mine alone.

I will write to Arnold at once. He will inform the whole of London of our impending return, and I know Cissie Baird will be one of the first to hear the news!

I will go to Marnie tonight and tell her too. She will be glad for me, I am sure. I just hope she is not still cross about the events of Sunday last.

36

Maid of the Sea

Noah passed the bottle of wine to Marnie. ‘Have a good swallow,’ he said. ‘It will warm our bellies before we brave the water.’

Marnie took the bottle and lifted it to her lips. Expecting the yeasty thinness of beer, Marnie spluttered when the thick, sweet wine filled her mouth.

‘Steady!’ said Noah. ‘That is fine wine. Not rough vinegar.’

Marnie took another swallow and a trail of warmth seeped down her throat and into her belly. ‘It’s good,’ she gasped. ‘Can I have more?’

Noah laughed. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But let me wet my lips first.’

They passed the wine between them and with every new mouthful Marnie felt her limbs grow softer and her head grow lighter. It was beautiful on the beach. The sea was calm and quiet and shimmered silver through a low mist. ‘Have you forgiven me for Sunday last, little beggar girl?’ Noah teased.

Marnie looked at him, leaning relaxed against a rock with his hat by his side and his bare toes digging into the shingle. With the wine swirling around her senses, she could forgive him anything. ‘I’ve worse things on me mind than your foolishness,’ she said. ‘But I forgive you in any case.’

‘Well, thank you,’ said Noah, and he lifted the wine bottle in a salute. ‘Now, pray tell me what
worse things
you have on your mind?’

Words and pictures crowded into Marnie’s head. The wine seemed to have loosened all the black thoughts and memories that had been tightly hidden away, like crabs wedged in the crevices of a rock: the misery of being a cripple, the drowning of Ambrose, the longing for her pa and the suffocating presence of Eldon Cross all scuttled out of their hidey-holes. If she could tell anyone anything, she knew she could tell Noah. And in the telling, maybe the thought or memory wouldn’t be so bad.

‘Come, Marnie,’ Noah urged. ‘Tell me what things a girl like you has on her mind.’

‘An old and ugly suitor for one,’ she said, and watched how Noah’s eyes widened in surprise.

‘A suitor, indeed! And is he so old and so ugly, Marnie?’

‘He is,’ Marnie said firmly. ‘I can’t bear the sight of him.’

‘Can you not just tell him so?’ said Noah. ‘Or at least tell him you are unable to return his affections?’

‘It’s not so simple,’ said Marnie. She thought of Ma’s face, urging her to be nice to Eldon, of how she was made to sit next to him at supper now and of the nights she had woken to find him sitting silently in the kitchen watching her sleep. ‘He’s a lodger at our cottage,’ she said. ‘Me ma wants me to like him. She doesn’t think I could do better. Being a cripple and all.’

‘It is strange to hear you say that, Marnie,’ said Noah. ‘I never think of you in that way. To me, you are a mermaid on land. A maid of the sea!’

‘If only others thought like that,’ said Marnie quietly.

‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, Marnie. You have such spirit. I have never met anyone like you before. Come on, let us not be maudlin. Have some more wine.’

He was right, thought Marnie. Why let Eldon Cross spoil her precious time with Noah? She poured more wine in her mouth and swallowed. Her belly swirled warm and suddenly the black thoughts disappeared. She was just where she wanted to be, with the person she most wanted to be with and the sea was lying before them, inviting them in with its gentle hush. She stood up and steadied herself against the dizziness that rushed to her head. ‘I’ve got an idea!’ she said. ‘Are you brave enough to do it?’

Noah stood up and bowed. ‘Anything you say, my lady.’

‘Let’s bathe as the men do, then!’

‘And how is that?’ asked Noah.

‘You know,’ said Marnie. ‘How they do at Byron’s Bay. As naked as the day they was born!’

The smile fell from Noah’s face. ‘Marnie Gunn! In truth, I am shocked at your suggestion.’

‘No, you’re not,’ said Marnie. ‘You’re just not brave enough!’ She was giddy with the joy of it all. Noah had said she was spirited. Well, now she’d show him just how spirited she was.

‘Come on!’ urged Marnie. ‘The quicker you’re in, the better it is!’

Noah stood like a great dumpling, gawping at Marnie while she pulled off her frock and underclothes. She didn’t stop to think. It was Noah, after all. He’d touched her foot without flinching. There was nothing else to hide from him.

‘Come on!’ Marnie said again. ‘If you’re quick about it, you won’t feel the cold.’

Then she saw the look on his face. How his cheeks were flushed pink and how he couldn’t look her in the eye. It amused her to see him so ill at ease. She turned her back to him then, and shouted over her shoulder, ‘I promise I won’t look!’

Marnie heard him sigh and mutter something to himself. Then there were shuffling noises and the jangle of belt and braces. She turned around suddenly and Noah quickly put his hands to his manhood. Marnie looked at his unclothed limbs and chest and began to laugh.

‘Why, Noah! Just look at you,’ she teased. ‘You’re as white as the underbelly of a flatfish!’

Noah looked down at himself and then back up at Marnie. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. ‘Well, look at you, Marnie Gunn,’ he said slowly. ‘You are as brown as a common farmhand!’

They stared at each other for a moment. Then Marnie turned and made for the sea. Noah came after her and they both yelped like puppies as the waves slapped against their naked skin. ‘Shush,’ said Marnie. She giggled and hiccoughed. ‘We don’t want to be waking the workers.’ They swam in circles around each other and Marnie dived under the surface and pulled gently on Noah’s legs. Then Noah held her hand and they let the waves wash over their heads. Everything that had ever troubled Marnie faded away into the sea mist: Ma, Smoaker, Ambrose, Eldon Cross, the pier, her crippled leg and the whole of Clevedon. All that mattered now was the three of them. Her, Noah and the sea.