The Pool of St. Branok (23 page)

The police were called off the hunt. It was just another case of elopement. They turned up now and then and they wished people would give a little more thought to the trouble they were causing.

Uncle Peter thought that the incident could be of a little use to Matthew for the happy bride had been staying at his house. “People love a little romance,” he said. “Nothing like it for fixing one in the mind of the electorate. They’ll forget what happened, but they will remember it was a romantic affair and that it happened in your house. Romance only happens to nice people. It will be of some little use, I daresay.” The Pencarrons wanted their daughter and her husband to return with them to Cornwall for a proper wedding. This Gretna Green method was all very well, but what they had fancied for their Morwenna was a wedding with veil and orange blossom in St Ervan’s Church with guests in Pencarron Manor to follow.

So this was to take place; and I was sure Justin would be offered some executive post in the mine—although it was difficult to imagine him in that capacity. He seemed to me entirely the man about town.

Although it was a great relief to have Morwenna back with us safe and well, there were certain misgivings. Uncle Peter thought that it was very likely that the man was an adventurer; being one himself he very probably recognized another.

Grace was delighted for Morwenna. She said that even if she had been married because she was an heiress, was that not the reason why so many debutantes were married? It was absurd to hold up one’s hand in horror because someone had used a rather different method with the same object in view.

She said Morwenna was a girl who needed romance to pull her out of that mood of self-deprecation into which she had fallen, and what could be a better antidote to that than an elopement? Justin Cartwright at worst could be the same as many men who, during the season, were looking for an advantageous marriage; at best it could be genuine love which had prompted him to elope with Morwenna.

“Let us hope it is the latter,” she added.

And that was what we all did.

The Pencarrons returned to Cornwall, taking Morwenna and her husband with them. There was to be that ceremony at St Ervan’s and they would start making plans.

As for myself, I remained a little longer in London; Grace was with us most of the time; we bought materials and talked of wedding plans. Gervaise came to London and we had a few wonderful days together; we went again to the opera and we had luncheon alone together—permitted now that we were officially engaged. And then I said goodbye to Gervaise.

I should not see him again until we married.

Back at Cador there was no talk of anything but the coming wedding. Morwenna had had her ceremony. They had thought it best to have the whole thing completed so that they would feel that Morwenna was really married and they could not feel that until the ceremony in St Ervan’s took place. So there were hasty preparations. Morwenna had her white gown and orange blossom; she was married in the church and many returned to Pencarron to take part in the reception.

I wished I had been there in time to participate.

“Never mind,” said Morwenna, “I shall certainly come to yours.”

She was like a different person. There was no doubt that she was happy and, as she had never expected to be, she enjoyed it all the more. In those days she went about in a state of dazed bliss. Justin was very tender to her. I liked him for that, although I could not rid myself of the idea which Uncle Peter had sown in my mind that he might be an adventurer. The Pencarrons were certainly very wealthy and Morwenna was their only child. Marriage with her must seem a good proposition to any needy young man seeking an heiress.

But when his father-in-law offered to take him into the business he politely declined. He was grateful. It was a great honor, Morwenna told me he said, but he could not do it.

“He is so noble,” she went on. “He says he wants to support his wife without the help of her father. He can do it, and although she may not be as rich in her new life as she was with her parents, she would be well looked after. Wasn’t that wonderful of him? You see, he is so used to living in town. He wouldn’t fit into a rural society.”

“I can see that,” I said.

“He’s like Gervaise. You couldn’t see him in the country either, could you?”

I admitted she was right.

“Pa has offered to give us a house in London for a wedding present but he is having difficulty in getting Justin to agree to take it. You see, he doesn’t want to take anything.”

“Where was he living then?” I asked.

“In a hotel.”

“He could hardly expect you to live in a hotel.”

“No. So I think that for my sake he will accept Pa’s offer. They don’t really want me to go to London. They would like us to settle here.”

“What do you feel about it, Morwenna?”

“Oh, I want to be where Justin is. Mother and Pa can come up and stay with us … often. And we can come down here.”

“It sounds like a good arrangement. And you are very happy, aren’t you, Morwenna?”

She nodded. “Life is wonderful,” she said. “So unexpected. Those awful balls … those dinner parties. I never knew what to say to anybody and I would sit there feeling that everyone was trying to think up excuses to get away from me.”

“And Justin changed all that.”

“He was quite different from anyone else. He really wanted to be with me. He listened to what I had to say. He made me feel that I was interesting. It has changed everything.”

“I hope you will always be as happy as you are now, Morwenna.”

“I shall always be happy as long as I have Justin.”

I thought: The man is a miracle worker. He has changed her completely. Or is it simply Love?

The weeks flew by. My wedding dress was ready. We had it made in Plymouth. It lacked the grandeur of my court dress but it was very beautiful. There was my veil and orange blossom. I should be the typical bride.

As Morwenna had been, I was married in St Ervan’s. My father gave me away and Morwenna was my matron of honor. Gervaise was a very handsome bridegroom and I was proud of him. The reception followed, toasts were drunk and, with the help of Gervaise, I cut the cake. We left the guests while I went up to change into my going-away costume.

Grace and my mother were with me. My mother was emotional as most mothers are when their daughters get married. I suppose they think the relationship will never be the same again, and they have lost some part of a daughter to a stranger.

I threw my arms about her, remembering all we had been to one another.

I said: “We are going to see each other often. I shall come to Cador and you must come to London.”

She nodded, too tearful to speak.

We were to live in London. My parents, as the Pencarrons had with Morwenna, were presenting us with a house as a wedding present. It seemed the most sensible of gifts to a married pair who had to find a home for themselves. Morwenna and I promised each other that we would have an exciting time helping each other to choose our new homes; and one thing which delighted us was that we should be neighbors.

The prospect ahead seemed full of pleasure; and in the meantime Gervaise and I were about to leave on our honeymoon which was to be spent in the South of France.

Grace patted the sleeve of my jacket and smoothed the skirt. We had bought it in London and she had helped to choose it. I felt it was very elegant and there was a little hat with a curling blue-tinted ostrich feather with it.

“You look lovely,” said my mother. “Doesn’t she, Grace?”

Grace agreed.

And then I went down to Gervaise who was waiting for me and whose looks told me that he agreed with them.

When we arrived at the station the train was already in. We had a first-class carriage to ourselves.

“How fortunate!” I cried.

“Arranged,” said Gervaise, “with Machiavellian cunning.”

And we were laughing together.

We were to stay the first night in a London hotel before we continued our journey the next day.

“It will be the first time I have ever been out of England,” I said.

“Is that why you are so excited?”

“The sole reason,” I told him.

“Angelet,” he said severely, “you must not tell your husband lies.”

“What will you do if I decide I shall?”

“I shall be forced to take drastic action.”

“Such as?”

“You’ll find out.”

And so we bantered.

The journey, which had previously always seemed so long, now seemed quite short; and there we were coming into Paddington Station.

I was full of admiration for the manner in which Gervaise guided me through, having summoned a porter to take the baggage. Soon we were in a cab.

What a man of the world! I thought proudly.

Our room overlooked the Park. It was quite a splendid room with heavy brocade curtains, gilded furniture and a bed which I imagined could have been used by Louis XIV.

“The bridal suite,” announced Gervaise. “All arranged efficiently by your father, I must tell you.”

“He didn’t tell me.”

“No, it was to be a surprise.”

“It’s very grand.”

“Well, it is our wedding night.”

I changed into a dinner dress and we went down to dine. Eager-to-please waiters hovered; the discreet music was delightful; and Gervaise was sitting opposite me telling me how much he loved me.

It was a beautiful night. There was a moon which seemed suitable for the occasion. From the balcony we could look over the Park which seemed to have become mysterious and unreal. He put an arm about me, his fingers caressing my neck. Then he took the pins from my hair and let it fall about my shoulders.

He drew me back into the room. He took my face in his hands and said: “For so long I have waited for you, Angelet. I have wanted you so much. You wouldn’t understand …”

Then he kissed me as he had never kissed me before. I felt startled. I was innocent but not ignorant. I knew of the relationships between the sexes in theory. It should be something precious; it made a bond between people, such as that between my parents, Helena and Matthew, Uncle Peter and Aunt Amaryllis. It was easy to see there was this special bond between them. But there was another side to it. There was something I had glimpsed on that never-to-be-forgotten day there at the pool.

And suddenly without warning it came upon me … the terrible fear. I was back there. It was as vivid as it had been on that day.

I seemed to see those other features … the feel of his hands … his breath on my face.

I heard myself scream: “No, no.”

I tried to withdraw my hands but he held them tightly.

“Let me go,” I cried. “Let me go.”

He released me, staring at me in amazement.

“Angelet, what’s wrong? What is it?”

The sound of his voice, so tender, so loving, reassured me. I was being foolish.

“I … I don’t … know,” I stammered.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m not going to hurt you. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.”

“No … I know. It is just that …”

He would have taken me in his arms but I shrank away from him.

“Angelet, what on earth has happened? You’re looking at me as though I’m a stranger … a monster.”

And I thought: I shall never forget. It will always be there.

I turned away from him and flung myself onto the bed. Involuntary sobs shook my body.

He was lying beside me, his arms about me. “Tell me, Angelet. Tell me all about it.”

I knew then that he had not changed. I had nothing to fear from him. But I knew, too, that I could no longer bear the burden of my secret.

I just lay there silently; now and then shaken by a sob. He held me tightly.

“It’s all right, Angelet,” he said. “What are you afraid of? There is nothing to fear. I promise you that. Tell me what it is that worried you.”

I buried my face against him and I heard myself say: “It was what happened at the pool.”

“At the pool?”

“It’s so long ago … but it still seems clear to me. It always has been like that. It goes away and then it comes back. It comes back so suddenly. It will always be like that.”

“What? Tell me.”

I took a deep breath. Then it came out: “There was a man who escaped from Bodmin Prison. There was a great deal of talk about him … pictures of him. I was alone by the pool. I had tied up my horse, Glory … I went down to look at the pool … and he was there. He talked for a while. I thought he was a visitor who wanted to know the way … and then suddenly he changed.” I was shivering now. It was all coming back so clearly. “He looked at me … he put out his hands and seized me.”

“Oh my God,” said Gervaise.

“I knew what he would do to me … what he had done to that girl he murdered. I fought him. But I was only a child and he …”

I could feel the horror rising in Gervaise. It was like a physical thing.

“Someone came … and saved me. He fought with the murderer … who fell and caught his head on a stone. I remember the stone. It was part of that wall you found when you came down to dig.”

“I know … I remember.”

“It killed him. We threw his body in the pool. They all thought he had escaped. But he didn’t. He is lying at the bottom of the pool … where we put him.”

He did not speak. I knew he was too shocked. He just held me tightly, then he murmured my name and called me his little love, his darling.

“You see, Gervaise, I never told anyone. … You are the first …”

“I’m glad you told me,” he said.

“I had to. I had to make you understand.”

“I understand,” he said.

There was a silence and then I said: “What are you thinking of, Gervaise?”

“I am thinking of it. I can’t stop thinking of it.”

“It was terrible. It had all happened so quickly. Everything before had been easy … simple … and after that …”

“Of course, of course.”

“We shouldn’t have done it, should we? But you see he was fighting with Ben.”

“Ben?”

“Benedict. We called him Ben. He said that the man would have been hanged for murder and that was an easy way out for him. I don’t think Ben felt it as much as I did.”