Seven for a Secret (5 page)

“Tell me about Tamarisk.”

“That was what I was coming to. She must be a month or so older than you … or perhaps younger. I’m not sure. She was what they call an afterthought. I don’t think for a moment that merry couple wanted another child. Think of the jolly life Madam would have to give up for a few months. Well, Tamarisk arrived. It must have been at least ten years after the birth of Crispin.”

“They must have been very annoyed with her for being born.”

“Oh, it was all right once she was born. Then she was handed over to nurses. She wouldn’t be allowed to intrude. No wonder she’s said to be wilful and wayward. Like her brother. 1 expect the nurses gave in to them. It would be a nice easy job without interference from above. They wouldn’t want to upset that. Poor little things. Their parents must have been almost strangers to them. But perhaps I should say poor Mrs. St. Aubyn. Her life had been with her husband and she lost him. Maud Hetherington and I take it in turns to visit her. She doesn’t want to see us and I am sure we don’t want to see her. But Maud says it must be done, and there is no gainsaying Maud.”

“Shall I know them?”

“That’s what I’m coming to. But first the Dorians at the Bell House.

Nice place. Stands back from the road. Red brick. Mullioned windows.

Pity. “

“Why a pity?”

“Pity the Dorians are there. That could be a happy house. I’d like to live there. Rather large for me, I suppose, but we could use it. I think old Josiah Dorian can’t forget it was once a meeting house.

Quakers, most likely. It’s not exactly a church, but as near as makes no difference. A meeting place for people . the sort, I imagine, who think to laugh means a ticket to hell. It’s in that house still.

Hangs on, I suppose, and Josiah Dorian is not the man to change it.

”

“There’s a girl there, isn’t there? You said a girl of about my age .. like Tamarisk St. Aubyn.”

“Yes, you’d be much of a much ness Poor girl! Lost her parents some time ago. Pity for her she came to her uncle and aunt.”

7 came to my aunt. “

She laughed.

“Well, dear, I’m no Josiah Dorian.”

“I think 1 was very lucky.”

“Bless you, child. We both were. We’ll bring luck to each other. I’m sorry for poor Rachel in a place like that. It’s all very Sunday-go-to-meeting, if you know what 1 mean.

They can’t get servants to stay long. Mary Dorian weighs out the sugar and locks up the tea . at her husband’s command, they say. Josiah Dorian is a mean man. Rachel’s mother was Mary Dorian’s sister. Well, what I’m getting at is this. I’ve taken my time getting round to it because I wanted you to know the people you’d be with. That’s if 1 can fix it. It’s your education I’ve got in mind. I want you to go to school. a good school. “

“Wouldn’t that be costly?”

“We’ll manage when it’s necessary. But not yet. In another year, say.

In the meantime. Tamarisk has a governess up at the house Miss Lloyd. Rachel shares the governess. She goes along each day to St. Aubyn’s and has lessons with Tamarisk. You see what I’m driving at? “

“You think that I… ?”

Aunt Sophie nodded vigorously.

“I haven’t quite fixed it yet, but I’m going to. I can’t see why you shouldn’t join them. I don’t think there’ll be any difficulty. I’ll have to get Mrs. St. Aubyn to agree, but she doesn’t care much what goes on, and I don’t expect opposition there. Then there is old Josiah Dorian. I suppose I’ll have to get him to agree, too. However, we’ll see. It would certainly solve our problem for a time.”

I felt excited by the prospect.

“It would mean your going to St. Aubyn’s every morning. It will be nice to be with people of your own age.”

While we were talking Lily put her head round the door.

“That Miss Hetherington’s here,” she said.

“Bring her in,” cried Aunt Sophie. She turned to me.

“We’re going to meet our vicar’s daughter his right hand and good counsellor in whose capable hands lies the fate of Harper’s Green.”

When she came into the room 1 saw that she was all Aunt Sophie had said she was. I recognized her power at once. Tall, large, hair drawn severely back from a face under a small hat which was perched on the

top of her head and decorated with forget-me-nots, she wore a blouse, the neck of which was held almost up to her chin with supports and which gave her a look of severity; her eyes, behind her spectacles, were brown and alert; her teeth were slightly prominent; and about her was that unmistakable air of authority.

Her eyes immediately fell on me. I went forward.

“So this is the niece,” she said.

“She is indeed,” said Aunt Sophie, with a smile.

“Welcome, child,” said Miss Hetherington.

“You’ll be one of us. You will be happy here.” It was a command rather than a prophecy.

“Yes, I know,” I said.

She looked satisfied and regarded me steadily for a few seconds. I think she was trying to assess what useful tasks could be assigned to me.

Aunt Sophie told her that she was hoping I might join the girls for lessons at St. Aubyn’s.

“Of course,” said Miss Hetherington.

“It’s only sensible. Miss Lloyd can teach three as easily as two.”

“I shall have to get the agreement of Mrs. St. Aubyn and the Dorians.”

“Of course they must agree.”

I wondered what steps she would take if they did not, but I hardly thought they would dare to disobey her.

“Now, Sophie, there are matters to be dealt with …”

I slipped out of the room and left them together.

A few days later Aunt Sophie told me that the matter of the governess had been settled. I was to join Tamarisk and Rachel in the schoolroom at St. Aubyn’s.

Ever thoughtful, and realizing that it would be good for me to know something of my companions before joining them for lessons. Aunt Sophie invited both girls to tea at The Rowans.

I was very excited at the prospect of meeting them and went down to the sitting-room filled with curiosity and some apprehension.

Rachel Grey arrived first. She was a slight, dark-haired girl with big brown eyes. We regarded each other with some hauteur and shook hands gravely while Aunt Sophie looked on smiling.

“You and Rachel will get on well,” she said.

“My niece is new to Harper’s Green, Rachel. You’ll show her the ropes, dear, won’t you?”

Rachel smiled wanly and replied: “As far as I am able, I will.”

“Well, now you know each other, sit down and let’s have a chat.”

“You live in the Bell House,” I began.

“I think it looks charming.”

“The house is nice,” said Rachel, and then stopped.

“A real period piece,” said Aunt Sophie.

“Nearly as old as St. Aubyn’s.”

“Oh, not as grand as that,” said Rachel.

“It has great charm,” insisted Aunt Sophie.

“Tamarisk is late.”

“Tamarisk is always late,” said Rachel.

“Hm,” grunted Aunt Sophie.

“She’s ever so keen to meet you,” said Rachel to me.

“She’ll be here soon.”

She was right.

“Oh, here you are, my dear,” said Aunt Sophie.

“Delayed, were you?”

“Oh yes,” said the newcomer. She was quite attractive, with very fair curly hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a short retrousse nose which gave her a jaunty look. She looked at me with undisguised curiosity.

“So you’re the niece.”

“And you are Tamarisk St. Aubyn.”

“From St. Aubyn’s Park,” she said, her eyes sweeping round Aunt Sophie’s tastefully furnished but not very large drawing-room and somehow belittling it.

“How do you do?” I asked coolly.

“Well, thank you, and you?”

“Well,” I replied.

“You’re going to have lessons with Rachel and me.”

“Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

She screwed up her face and made a pouting expression with which I was to become familiar, implying that I might change my mind when I met the governess.

She said: “Old Lallie is a slave-driver, isn’t she, Rachel?”

Rachel did not answer. She seemed timid and perhaps in awe of Tamarisk.

“Old Lallie?” I asked.

“Lallie Lloyd. Her name is Alice. I call her Lallie.”

“Not to her face,” put in Rachel quietly.

“I would,” retorted Tamarisk.

“I am starting on Monday,” I told them.

“You three can get to know each other,” said Aunt Sophie.

“I’ll see about tea.”

And I was alone with them.

“You’ve come to live here now, I suppose,” said Tamarisk.

“My mother is ill. She’s in a nursing home near here. That’s why I’m here.”

“Rachel’s mother and father died. That’s why she’s here with her uncle and aunt.”

“Yes, I know. She’s at the Bell House.”

“It’s not as good as our place,” Tamarisk told me.

“It’s not bad, though.” Again she gave Aunt Sophie’s drawing-room that look of pity and contempt.

“We’re going to school later on,” Rachel told me.

“Tamarisk and I shall go together.”

“I think I probably shall too.”

“Then there’ll be three of us.” Tamarisk giggled.

“I shall

be glad to go to school. It’s a pity we’re all so young. “

That will change, of course,” I said, a little primly perhaps, and Tamarisk burst out laughing.

“You sound like old Lallie already,” she said.

“Tell us about your old home.”

I told them and they listened intently and while they were talking Lily came in with the tea.

Aunt Sophie followed.

“You’ll look after our guests, Freddie,” she said.

“I’ll leave you to it. Then you can all get to know each other without the help of the grownups.”

I felt important pouring out the tea and handing round the cakes.

“What a funny name,” said Tamarisk.

“Isn’t it, Rachel? Freddie! It’s like a boy.”

“It’s Frederica really.”

“Frederica!” Her expression was disdainful.

“Mine’s more unusual. Poor old Rachel, yours is ordinary. Didn’t Rachel do something in the Bible?”

“Yes,” said Rachel.

“She did.”

“I like Tamarisk best. I shouldn’t like to be called by a boy’s name.”

“Nobody would mistake you for one,” I replied, which sent Tamarisk into gusts of laughter.

Then we talked together freely and I felt they had accepted me. They told me about the vagaries of old Lallie, how easily she could be hoodwinked, though one had to take care when attempting this; how she had had a lover who had died when he was young of some mysterious illness and that was why she had remained unmarried and had to go on being a governess to people like Tamarisk, Rachel and me instead of having her own home, with a loving husband and a family.

By the time tea was over I had lost my apprehension and felt I could deal adequately with Tamarisk and had no fear of Rachel.

On the following Monday I set out for St. Aubyn’s Park, full of cautious optimism, to face Miss Alice Lloyd.

St. Aubyn’s Park was a large Tudor mansion with a winding drive bordered on each side by flowering shrubs. There was an impressive gatehouse under which Aunt Sophie and 1 passed and went into a cobbled courtyard. Aunt Sophie had come along with me, as she said, ‘to introduce you to the place’.

“Don’t let Tamarisk overawe you,” she said.

“She will if she has half a chance. Remember, you’re as good as she is.”

I promised I would not.

We were let in by a maid who said: “Miss Lloyd is waiting for the young lady. Miss Cardingham.”

Thank you. We’ll go up, shall we? “

“If you would be so good,” was the answer.

The hall was lofty. There was a long refectory table with several chairs round it and on the wall a full-length portrait of Queen Elizabeth looking severe in a ruff and a jewel-spattered gown.

“She stayed here once,” whispered Aunt Sophie.

“The family is very proud of it.”

She led the way up a staircase; we came to a landing and, after more stairs, passed through a gallery in which were several sofas, chairs, a spinet and a harp. I wondered if Tamarisk could play them. Then there were more stairs.

“Schoolrooms always seem to be at the top of the house,” commented Aunt Sophie.

“They were at Cedars.”

At last we arrived. Aunt Sophie knocked at a door and went in.

This was the schoolroom which was to become very familiar to me. It was large with a high ceiling. In the centre of the room was a long table at which Tamarisk and Rachel were sitting. I noticed the big cupboard, the door of which

was half-open to show books and slates. At one end of the room was a blackboard. It was the typical schoolroom.

A woman came towards us. She was, of course, Miss Alice Lloyd. She was tall and thin and 1 imagined in her early forties. I noticed the faintly long-suffering expression in her face which must have come from trying to teach people like Tamarisk St. Aubyn. This was mingled with a wistfulness and reminded me that Tamarisk had said she looked back to a past which had held a lover and dreams of what might have been.

“This is my niece. Miss Lloyd, Freddie … that is, Frederica.”

Miss Lloyd smiled at me and her smile transformed her. I liked her from that moment.

“Welcome, Frederica,” she said.

“You must tell me all about yourself.

Then I shall know where you stand in relation to my two other pupils.

”

Tm sure you’ll get on well,” said Aunt Sophie.

“I’ll see you later, dear.”

She said goodbye to Miss Lloyd and left.

I was told to sit down and Miss Lloyd asked me a few questions. She seemed not dissatisfied with my achievements and the lessons began.

I had always been interested in acquiring knowledge; I had read a great deal and I soon realized that I by no means lagged behind my companions.

At eleven o’clock a maid came in with a tray on which were three glasses of milk and three plain biscuits.

“I’ve put yours in your room. Miss Lloyd,” she said.

“Thank you,” said Miss Lloyd.

“Now, girls, fifteen minutes only.”