Read The Mystery of Wickworth Manor Online
Authors: Elen Caldecott
‘What does it say?’ Paige tugged his sleeve impatiently.
‘Listen, I’ll read it to you. It’s dated 9th April 1866.
‘“To whosoever finds this letter,
‘“I know not how to tell this secret that has laid so heavily upon me for what feels like an age, for more than half my lifetime. It is only now, as my own death approaches, that I feel I can speak. No, rather that I must speak. And yet, I do not know who will listen. For I am ashamed and no one who was alive then is still of this world. Perhaps, therefore, this is a prayer. Maybe the souls of those whom I have wronged will hear and forgive.
‘“I know, for I hear the servants talk, that already the events of that time are passing into myth. And whose fault is that, if not my own? The truth has not been forgotten, but rather hidden, and by my own hand.”’
Curtis looked up. ‘Do you think she means she hid the painting?’
Paige prodded his arm. ‘Shh, keep on reading.’
Curtis looked back at the page.
‘“My dearest sister Patience was taken from us as she entered the first bloom of womanhood. I cannot speak of the terrible anguish we felt, Father especially. A sickness of the heart and soul struck him upon hearing the dreadful news. He took to his bed, never to rise again.
‘“Oh, Father. It is to you that this prayer is offered. You asked something of me that day that I could not do. I could not. The shame would have fallen heavily upon the whole family. Our enemies would have used that shame against us. All would have been lost and men such as Wilberforce and Sharp would have taken it all.
‘“But all was lost anyway.
‘“Now I know that the shame of breaking my promise was so much worse.
‘“I have failed. And now I am too sick to even try. So, I have hidden the one painting in the place where Patience laid her last. All else, in truth, I have commended to our Lord, with the hope that those who should have been honoured will be so in the life hereafter.
‘“I am weak. I will hide this prayer too. I will place it inside the globe you loved so much, Father. The globe you brought from the West Indies along with the coach boy, Christopher, whose very name caused me so much shame. I am ready to relinquish this life and submit to judgement in the next.
‘“Amen.
‘“Verity Burton”’
Curtis put the paper down. ‘Wow,’ he said.
‘Christopher,’ Paige said. ‘The Wickworth Boy was called Christopher.’
Curtis stood up. He held the letter and moved towards the window. Paige noticed how upright he stood, as though every muscle in his body was tense.
‘She sounds like a right piece of work,’ Curtis said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Wilberforce and Sharp were campaigners against the slave trade.’ Curtis’s voice sounded tight, angry.
Paige moved to his side, and looked out over the lake. ‘So, whatever Verity knew, it would have helped the campaigners? People stayed slaves because she didn’t want to be embarrassed? That’s horrible.’
Curtis nodded.
‘But whatever it was that Verity did, the promise she broke, she felt bad about it. She says so in the letter.’
‘Well, that’s all right then,’ Curtis snapped. ‘So long as she’s sorry.’
‘There’s no need to take it out on me.’
There was a pause. ‘Sorry,’ Curtis said. ‘I didn’t mean that. I just feel so angry for Christopher. Whatever happened to him was kept a secret for all these years just to stop a family from being embarrassed. We have to find out what happened to him. We have to put this right.’
Paige felt a lump form in her throat. She swallowed it down. ‘I want to find out too.’
‘Good.’ Curtis moved towards the end of the bed, where Christopher’s portrait was propped. The photograph of his death mask was there too. Curtis added the letter. ‘It’s almost a shrine,’ he said. Then he turned to face her. ‘Any ideas? What should we do next?’
‘Well,’ Paige said. ‘We need to think. But just now we’re late for canoeing.’
Curtis smiled. ‘I can think and paddle at the same time.’
CJTE/059 Hairbrush and combs, 18th C.
He wondered, sometimes, about the people who rode inside the coach. The family. Did they notice the servants around them? The older girl didn
’
t, of that he was certain. She thought they were no more than wooden puppets, with no mind or thoughts behind the dark surface. Sometimes, she talked as though there was no one but family in the room to hear. Her maid heard all manner of indiscretions as she set the girl
’
s hair; brushing, combing and listening to every word. And all that was said was quickly common knowledge in the servants
’
hall.
But the younger one? It wasn
’
t clear. She had been heard to say please and thank you. It was said that as a child she had helped her nurserymaid with chores, though that seemed unlikely. She had asked if he would mind rowing her across the lake, she didn
’
t order him to do it.
Not that he would have been able to say no, of course, no matter how like a request it seemed.
They were just about to leave his attic when Curtis heard his phone ring. It was Mum’s ringtone. He remembered their night-time call, where there had been more silence than words. There was a heavy feeling in his chest as he walked to his open suitcase and fished for the phone.
‘Hello?’ he said.
‘Curtis, it’s me,’ Mum said. ‘Is everything OK?’
Curtis glanced over at Paige. She stood in the doorway, facing the other way, doing her best to look as though she wasn’t listening. ‘Of course. I can’t talk, I’m late for something.’
‘Oh, I thought it might be lunchtime. I was hoping to catch you.’
‘Why? Is everything OK with you?’ Curtis frowned slightly.
‘Yes. Yes, it is. But you called so late. I was worried. We thought it might be best to leave you to settle, but maybe we were wrong. Curtis –’ Mum paused.
‘Yes?’
‘Just . . . take care. That’s all.’
‘OK. Listen, I’m in a hurry.’
‘Of course. Well, bye.’
‘Bye.’
Curtis ended the call and threw the phone back. He felt as though the room was suddenly colder. He’d managed to forget about Mum and the worry and the disappointment, just for a little while. But now it all washed right back, as though it was a wave that got pulled out on the tide only to crash back to shore moments later.
‘What’s the matter?’ Paige asked.
‘Nothing.’ How could he explain to Paige? She and her mum were like best friends. She wouldn’t understand.
They were the last to arrive at the lake. Mr Appleton gave them a quick nod. Everyone else was pulling on lifejackets and helmets.
‘Why does everything we do here mean we wear helmets?’ Paige moaned.
Curtis grinned. He pulled his on and clipped it under his chin. Paige picked up a lifejacket and dropped it over her shoulders; its red panels were decorated with go-faster stripes.
‘Now, there’s not a lot to this,’ Mr Appleton said. ‘Two to a canoe. You’ve all got paddles. Try not to soak each other.’
He led them out on to the jetty. Curtis walked beside Paige. He suddenly heard a hiss from behind them.
‘Snitch.’
Curtis turned. Liam was there, glaring at Curtis from under the brow of his helmet.
‘Pardon?’ Curtis asked.
‘Snitch,’ Liam said, louder this time. ‘I’ve heard what people are saying about me. It was only you who could have told them.’
Curtis stopped walking.
Liam stopped too.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Curtis tried to think of something he might have done, or said. Anything at all, but his mind was blank.
‘Well, new boy, you were the only one who knew. Except for my mates, of course.’
‘Knew about what?’
‘Don’t play innocent with me. I’m no mug.’
‘Is there a problem here?’ Mr Appleton rested his hands on Curtis’s and Liam’s shoulders. The weight felt reassuring.
‘No, sir,’ Liam looked down.
‘Well, come on, get paddling.’
The canoe wobbled as Curtis and Paige settled in, but it stayed upright. Curtis leaned towards Paige’s back and whispered, ‘Any idea what that was all about?’
‘Who knows? Sal said at breakfast that Caitlin said that Paul had heard that Liam and his mates were messing around last night, but I don’t know what that’s got to do with you. Ignore him.’
Curtis watched Liam and his partner move off on to the lake. He remembered Liam’s invitation to join in with whatever prank they were getting up to. He’d totally forgotten about it. But obviously Liam hadn’t. And someone had tattled. And Curtis was getting the blame for the rumours.
‘Forget it,’ Paige said.
Curtis wasn’t sure that he could, but eventually the gentle rhythm of the paddle pulling through the water settled the anxiety he felt. The glass surface of the lake became a comb of ripples. There were splashes and shouts all around them, but the heat of the sun on the back of his neck, the lap of the water, the call of birds around the lake made it seem tranquil.
‘Curtis,’ Paige said, twisting around in her seat, ‘I’ve been thinking.’
‘Did it hurt?’
‘Ha ha. I think Verity’s letter proves that the stories about the Wickworth Boy, about Christopher, are true.’
Curtis stopped paddling. Paige had let her paddle drift in the water and their canoe floated with the gentle current.
‘I think,’ Paige continued, ‘I think that if Verity found out that her sister was in love with a slave, then she’d be totally ashamed. And in 1805 William was so furious about it, he packed Patience off and Christopher was locked up. They both died of a broken heart. Then the remorse killed William.’
A waft of humid air pushed their canoe towards the centre of the lake. Curtis wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. ‘You can’t die of a broken heart or remorse. I don’t know why Christopher and Patience died so close together, but it wasn’t that.’
‘But what about the stories?’
‘They’re just stories. Put your paddle back in, we’re drifting too far.’
Their canoe was nearer the far bank now than the jetty. The stone chapel he’d noticed on his first day here was much closer. He could see ivy growing across the entrance. He pulled sharply on his paddle and their canoe edged away, back towards the others. Paige followed suit.
‘I’m just saying,’ she said a bit breathlessly, ‘that Verity was ashamed. She said so in the letter. And it would have been shameful, wouldn’t it, if your sister fell in love with a slave?’
‘We don’t know what Verity was ashamed of,’ Curtis said quietly. ‘It sounded more like she was ashamed of herself than of Patience or Christopher. Her dad asked her to do something and she didn’t keep her promise. That’s what we need to find out. What didn’t Verity do?’
Curtis noticed that the back of Paige’s neck was going pink; sunburn. He reached forward and adjusted her hood a bit so that it covered her neck. She twisted in her seat and smiled at him.
He felt a slight jolt as their canoe edged up against the jetty. He held the wooden support while Paige jumped out and tied their rope to the mooring. Curtis lined their paddles up neatly before stepping out. Mr Appleton took in the rest of their equipment. Curtis felt Liam’s glare again as he added his lifejacket to the pile. That was another problem he could do without.
‘I liked canoeing,’ Paige said. ‘Turns out we make quite a good team. Now let’s see if we can work out what it was that Verity felt so bad about. And I bet you a Curly Wurly it was something to do with love.’
‘A Curly Wurly?’ Curtis couldn’t help but smile.
‘It’s my favourite. What? Are you scared you’ll lose?’
What were the chances of two-hundred-year-old rumours being true? Curtis laughed. The chocolate was practically his already. ‘You’re on,’ he said.