The Changeling

Confession

SO MUCH HAPPENED DURING the next few days. It was wonderful to see Celeste looking happy. She now knew that Benedict was fully aware of all that had happened and there were no reproaches. He accepted his own guilt and gave the impression that he wanted to take care of her. As for her, she seemed to be living in a blissful dream.

The doctor was delighted with her progress and said it would be better not to mention the incident unless she did herself. Benedict dealt with the press and of course there were the expected headlines in the papers.

He was now represented as the joyous husband emerging from his terrible ordeal with courage and dignity. I was reminded of Uncle Peter who would have said this would be good for his image after all. There was nothing people liked better than a happy ending to a love story.

Of course, it was a pity it had come too late for the Cabinet reshuffle, but as Uncle Peter would have philosophically pointed out, there would be another time and with the enhanced presentation of a grieving husband now rejoicing in the return of his wife who had been suffering all the time from amnesia, he would give him a better chance than ever.

I talked to him when we were alone and said I should go back to Manorleigh before them. I wanted to have that room unlocked. I wanted to take out my mother’s things and to change it some way. Mrs. Emery would help me.

I was surprised and delighted when he agreed. He and Celeste would stay in London for a few more days. He was devoting himself to her as he never had before, talking of politics, drawing her into his life; and she responded like a flower opening to the sun and her happiness brought back her beauty and a certain gaiety of which until now I had been unaware.

Then I returned to Manorleigh.

There was great rejoicing there because of Celeste’s return. The children asked excited questions about her. I told them she had been lost because she could not remember where she was, and they listened round-eyed.

“Then she was in the street and saw the house and she remembered,” I told them.

“How could you forget who you were?” demanded Belinda.

“People do … sometimes.”

“Does she remember it all now?” asked Lucie.

“She is beginning to … and soon she will be here.”

Belinda was thoughtful; I wondered what was in her mind.

I was soon in Mrs. Emery’s room drinking a cup of tea.

“I think there will be a change, Mrs. Emery,” I said. “Mr. Lansdon was very upset, you know.”

“You can say that again,” said Mrs. Emery.

“It has made him realize that he didn’t know how much he cared for her.”

Mrs. Emery nodded.

“It took a lot to do it,” she said severely.

“Mrs. Emery, there is the locked room. It’s not going to be locked any more. I want you to help me deal with it. We’ll get to work on it right away. I am going to take out all my mother’s clothes … everything that’s personal … everything that was there when she was alive.”

Mrs. Emery sighed with relief. “Does he know?” she asked.

“Yes. I suggested it to him. He sees the point. I said by the time they arrived there would be no locked room.”

“That’s good, that is. I never liked the idea myself.”

“I thought if we could turn the furniture round a little. Perhaps take some things away. The bureau there which contains his papers must stay for him to deal with. But let us take all the clothes away. Perhaps there is something in the attics with which we could replace one or two pieces of furniture. Not much … just enough to make a difference … to make it an impersonal sort of room.”

“I know just what you mean, Miss Rebecca. You just say when you’re ready to start.”

By the next day we had changed the room considerably. I had packed up my mother’s clothes and they had been taken up to the attics. I took her initialled brush to my room; and by the time we had finished there was nothing there to remind people that it had once been her room.

Everything was now ready for the return.

There had been no reply from Pedrek. I told myself there had not been time but there was a niggling fear in my mind as to whether he would come back. Perhaps I had wounded him too deeply when I had doubted him.

I refused to allow myself to harbor such thoughts. It is too soon, I told myself. He will come back. He must. Benedict and Celeste had another chance and there must be one for Pedrek and me.

I noticed that Tom Marner was a little subdued. I wondered why and made a point of being alone with him while the children were with Miss Stringer at their lessons.

I asked him if anything was wrong.

He paused for a moment. Then he said: “I’ve had such a wonderful time here and received such warm hospitality. I didn’t want to go when all that upset was on but now it’s over and everything’s all right … I’ll have to be thinking of making my way back.”

“I suppose you have managers to look after the mine.”

“Oh yes … surely … but I can’t stay forever. And now the lady’s back where she belongs … well, it seems to me that I ought to begin to make tracks for home … and I don’t like it … much.”

“We shall be very sorry to see you go. I can’t imagine what Belinda is going to say.”

He smiled. “Ha. I’ll be sad to go. Reckon I’ve stayed too long already. But I just had to wait and see what happened. Now it’s all in the clear … well, I should be off.”

“You sound very reluctant to go.”

“It’s been good here. Don’t know when I enjoyed myself so much.”

“It’s always sad when visits like this come to an end, and we have to say goodbye. But I daresay you’ll be coming over again.”

“I reckon,” he said.

So that was it. He was going and although he wanted to get home he did not want to leave England. It was gratifying and we should all be sorry, for we had grown fond of him.

I did wonder about Belinda. Oliver Gerson first, then Tom Marner. She was going to be very upset.

Celeste and Benedict returned. All the servants were in the hall when they came in. It was quite an emotional scene.

Celeste looked radiant. I had never seen her look so beautiful. I knew the reason, of course. It was Benedict. I hoped he was not merely playing a part, expiating his sins: I hoped he really was beginning to care for her deeply.

There was great rejoicing. I had arranged for Emery to bring champagne from the cellar and everyone in the house drank to the joyous return of Mrs. Lansdon. Celeste replied charmingly, thanking them all for their kind welcome. “I think I am almost well now,” she told them.

They clapped with pleasure.

There would be a dinner party to which the agent and many of the important people in the neighborhood who worked for the party, would be invited.

Normally Celeste would have been apprehensive at the prospect, but she was changing. She had more confidence now. Benedict said he loved her and she was proud to work with him in his career.

I would never have believed they could have changed so quickly. It was like a miracle.

And the evening was a success.

It was not only Celeste who was so happy; Benedict was too. At least I believed so, though I did now and then wonder if he were playing a part.

Sometimes his eyes would meet mine and some understanding flashed between us. He really was finding consolation; he was shutting out the past. I knew my mother would be there always in his heart; she was the one he would always yearn for, but Celeste was there, warm, loving and living … and she would comfort him; she was helping him and he would love her more as time passed.

It was now known throughout the household that Tom Marner would soon be leaving us. Everyone was sorry. He was such a jolly person, treating all as though they were important to him. “Such a pleasant gentleman,” commented Mrs. Emery, “even if he is not quite out of the top drawer.”

I laughed and said I never thought of people being in drawers.

“… as the saying goes,” added Mrs. Emery, somewhat reprovingly.

Miss Stringer said: “The children are very upset … both of them … but particularly Belinda. She keeps asking about ships and how far Australia is. I heard her telling Lucie that they have stowaways on ships and I have the idea that she fancies herself as one of them. That child’s imagination is phenomenal.”

Belinda was certainly intense in her feelings. Hadn’t she tried to ruin my life and Pedrek’s because of her infatuation for Oliver Gerson?

I tried to find out how deeply her emotions were engaged with Tom Marner. She was always asking questions about the goldfields.

“Fancy you being born there, Rebecca,” she said. “Lucky you!”

“I don’t think it was considered to be very lucky. It was not the best of places to be born, I assure you.”

“I wish I’d been born in a goldfield. Is it a long way to Australia?”

“It’s right on the other side of the world,” volunteered Lucie.

“You go in a big ship. There are lots of people on it and they have stowaways.”

“What do you know about stowaways?”

“That they stow away. They get on the ship when it’s in port and they hide themselves and when the ship gets out to sea they come out and they can’t be put off.”

“They could and they are … at the next port.”

“Well, the clever ones wouldn’t come out until they got to Australia.”

“They would never be able to hide for so long.”

“Clever ones could.” Her eyes were speculative.

“You’re not thinking of trying it, are you?” I asked.

“It would be a great adventure,” she said, her eyes shining.

“You wouldn’t like it. If they found you they would make you work until they could put you off.”

“I wouldn’t mind working, would you, Lucie?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Peeling vegetables, washing up in the galley, swabbing the decks?” I asked.

“I’d swab the decks,” said Belinda. “Lucie could wash up and do the vegetables.”

“You’re talking a lot of nonsense,” I said.

But I was worried about Belinda. She had a way of bringing her fantasies into reality.

Something was happening to Leah. She was very preoccupied with her own thoughts. I spoke to her once or twice and she did not answer. She would start suddenly and realize that I had asked a question and would not have the faintest idea what I had said.

I went up to the nursery while the children were once more in Miss Stringer’s care, for I thought there would be a chance of having a quiet word with her. I found her there, sorting out the clothes. She was holding one of Belinda’s nightdresses in her hands and I saw that she was close to tears.

“Leah,” I said, “something’s wrong. Why don’t you tell me? I might just be able to help.”

She paused, biting her lips … holding back her tears.

I said on impulse: “Is it because Mr. Marner is going?”

She stared at me and I saw that I had stumbled on the truth.

“My poor Leah,” I said. “You have let yourself fall in love with him, haven’t you?”

She nodded.

“Oh, Leah, I’m so sorry. I am sure he would not have led you to believe … you see, he is so friendly with everybody.”

“I know. But he was specially friendly with me.”

“I am so sorry. I am sure he would be most upset if he thought you had taken it this way.”

“He’s not upset, Miss Rebecca. He’s asked me to marry him and go back with him to Australia.”

I opened my eyes wide. I ran to her and kissed her.

“Well then,” I said. “What is there to be sad about? You love him, don’t you?”

“Oh yes, I do. I love him dearly. He’s the most wonderful person I ever knew. I couldn’t believe he’d notice me … like that.”

“Leah, you are a very beautiful woman. You are good and kind too. Of course he fell in love with you. But why the sadness?”

“It’s Belinda. I can’t bear to leave her.”

“My dear Leah, I know how fond you have grown of her. It’s natural. You’ve looked after her since she was a baby. But you have your own life to live. It happens sometimes. People who look after children get so attached to them that it’s a wrench to leave them. But you have your own life to lead. You’d have to break away some time.”

“I couldn’t leave her. I just couldn’t …”

I thought how strange it was that Belinda, that rebellious child, should have inspired such devotion.

“It’s like making a choice,” she said. “I don’t know which way to turn.”

“Have you told Mr. Marner this?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I told him … I don’t know what to do. He thinks it’s because I’m not sure of my feelings for him. He says he’ll give me time … but it’s running out. He’s got to get back and he wants me to go with him.”

“But you must go, Leah. You love him, don’t you? It’s your future.”

“I can’t seem to choose between them. It seems either way I’ll be miserable.”

“Oh Leah, it’s the whole of your life with Tom Marner. I’m sure he’ll be the best of husbands. You’ll have a wonderful life with him … Belinda … she’s so unpredictable … she could change in a week. Besides, in time, she’ll have her own life.”

Her face crinkled with pain.

“Be sensible,” I said. “Think what it means. Your future … your marriage … your own children. You can’t give all that up for someone else’s child.”

I thought she was going to burst into tears. “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I just don’t know.”

“Go and think about it. I am sure you will come to the right decision.”

I left her then. I was certain that she could not give up all that marriage with Tom Marner would mean for the sake of someone else’s child.

It was two days later when Benedict came to me and told me that Tom Marner wanted to talk to us.

“Us?” I said in surprise.

“You, me and Celeste,” he said.

“Is it about Leah?” I asked.

“Yes, she is with him. It looks as if this is something serious. Come along to my study. They will be there shortly.”

We went and Celeste came in—the new Celeste, the radiant wife, no longer the outsider. I felt a glow of pleasure every time I saw her.

“I wonder what this is all about?” she said.

“I think Tom Marner wants to marry Leah and Leah wants to marry him.”

“Oh, that will be very … very … how you say?”

“Suitable?” I suggested.

“That is just what I mean.”

They came. Leah looked very emotional and Tom Marner was more serious than usual.

“Sit down,” said Benedict, “and tell us all about it.”

There was a brief silence. Tom Marner looked at Leah and smiled. “Go on,” he said.

Leah seemed to brace herself. “It was when I went to High Tor to do the tapestry. It was the first time I had been away from home.”

“I remember your coming to us,” murmured Celeste.

“Yes … you were there,” went on Leah. “To me it was all so different … I had never been away from home before. They were all friendly to me … especially Monsieur Jean Pascal …”

I drew a deep breath. I could never hear that name without experiencing a tremor of fear. I was guessing what was coming.

“I … I thought I was in love with him. I believed that we would marry. Please understand. I knew nothing of the way things really are. I had lived all the time with my mother who was always talking about sin and burning in hell and such things. I knew I had sinned … but somehow it happened. There was never any talk of marriage … but I thought that when people did as we had, they would be … in time …”

“We understand, Leah,” I said.

“In time I finished the tapestry. I went home … back to my mother. And then I found I was going to have a baby. You knew my mother …”

“I knew her well,” I said. I could imagine the scenes in that cottage, the fear of Leah, the rage of her mother. She who found sin wherever she looked in those around her now discovered that her daughter was to be the mother of an illegitimate child.

“She told me I was wicked,” went on Leah. “I would go to hell. Our reputations would be in ruins. She started making plans. She would send me away. I could fend for myself.”

“So much for her Christian charity,” murmured Benedict.

“You must not judge her harshly,” said Leah. “She thought she was right. It came out when she talked to me … she was so upset … the secret somehow escaped. She had had a very hard time. She called herself Mrs. Polhenny, but she had never been married. Something similar had happened to her. When she was sixteen she was seduced by the squire of the village in which she lived. There was a child … me. Her parents were shocked and sent her away to an aunt where she pretended she was a widow. The aunt was a midwife and she learned her profession … and in time she came to the Poldoreys and practiced it. I was about five years old then. What had happened was on her mind to such an extent that she became fanatically religious. She thought she was saved and she saw sin in everything and everyone. I could understand her horror … and I was very sad that I had brought more sorrow to her.

“She kept me locked up in the cottage. She said I had gone to stay with an aunt in St. Ives. There was no aunt in St. Ives.”

“I thought I saw you once at the window,” I said. “Just a shadow … you were there … and gone.”

“Yes,” she said. “I saw you. I was terrified. I did not know what I should have done if I had been seen and my condition discovered. Then she had this plan. “She said she could never hold up her head in the towns again if it were known that her own daughter was a slut. She would do anything … anything … to stop it’s being known. So she had this idea. Jenny Stubbs had gone about believing she was pregnant for a long time. She longed for a child. Being a midwife, my mother would be able to put her plan into action. Jenny had had a child once before. My mother would examine her and tell everyone that Jenny was indeed pregnant. She would attend her and let it be known that Jenny had her child. That child would be mine. The more she thought of it the better it seemed. She could get rid of my child, and my virtue, at least outwardly, would be retained.”

“So …” I cried, “Lucie is your child.”

“It didn’t turn out like that. Your mother had her child at this time. She died and not much attention was given to the child at first. She was a sickly little girl. My mother believed she could not live more than a few days … weeks at most. She was always fond of children and it was only when they began to grow up that she saw them as imps of mischief. Then she did this thing. She took Mrs. Lansdon’s sickly baby and gave her to Jenny and my child she put in the nurseries here. Mine was a strong and healthy child and it seemed the best thing to do. My child would have the advantages Jenny Stubbs could not give her … and my mother was, after all, her grandmother. She thought she had settled everything in the best way. We did not know that Lucie would grow stronger and live.”

I looked at Benedict. He was as shocked as I was.

Tom Marner said: “So you see … Belinda is Leah’s own child.”

“And that means,” said Benedict, “that Lucie is mine.”

There was a long silence. I believe everyone was too bewildered by what we had heard to say anything just yet.

It was Tom Marner who spoke first. “Leah told me all this and I persuaded her that she must tell you. We are all concerned and we have to work out what is to be done. You can understand how Leah feels.”

“You are right,” said Benedict. “But this is a great shock to us all.”

“I’ll tell you what we want,” went on Tom. “Leah and I want to take Belinda with us to Australia.”

That evening we sat together in the drawing room—Benedict, Tom Marner, Celeste and I. After her confession, Leah was too upset to join us.

“I still find it hard to credit this story,” said Benedict. “Who would have believed that the midwife had such a devious mind?”

“I would,” I said. “But she did have it on her conscience at the end. I know now why she was so anxious to see my grandmother when she was dying. She was going to confess to her. If she had we should have known of this long ago.”

“Leah can’t be parted from her child,” said Celeste.

“That’s for sure,” added Tom.

“I always felt drawn towards Lucie,” put in Benedict, as though talking to himself. “Perhaps there is something in this relationship between a parent and child even when they are unaware of that relationship.”

“I am very fond of Lucie too,” said Celeste.

We talked for a long time … well into the night. Tom Marner was passionately persuasive. He wanted to take Leah back with him and he wanted Belinda too. “She’s a strange one,” he said. “She needs special handling.” He was smiling to himself. He would know how to do the handling and, having seen the comradeship between him and Belinda, I believed him. Moreover Belinda would never be happy if they left without her. I had thought she showed signs of fondness for me. I believed she did care for me … a little. But Leah was first with her and I guessed that place could be shared with Tom before long.

I think we were all beginning to realize that when Leah and Tom went to Australia, Belinda, that strange changeling child, would go with her mother and the stepfather she would have chosen for herself.

The wedding followed very soon. There was no point—nor time—for delay, Tom said. Belinda and Lucie were bridesmaids.

Belinda was brimming over with excitement. She talked continually of Australia and the perfections of her new father.

It was a little churlish perhaps to those of us who had cared for her all these years, but she was genuinely happy and so excited that she could not hide her feelings. We all understood.

After the church ceremony we went to Manor Grange for the reception.

As I came into the hall one of the maids called to me. Her eyes were shining and she said in a high-pitched voice, “There’s someone called to see you, Miss Rebecca. He’s in the little room.”

I went into that room where Benedict listened to the complaints and suggestions of his constituents. A man was standing there, his back to the window. He looked different. The sun had tanned his skin to a light bronze and he seemed older.

“Pedrek!” I cried.

And then we ran to each other.

The embrace was breathtaking. I managed to say, “You have come home then. I have been so longing for news.”

“I thought it better to come myself.”

“At last! It’s been so long.”

“Never mind. It’s now that counts. I’ve loved you through it all, Rebecca.”

“And I you.”

“Never doubt again.”

“Never … never … never,” I said.

There was so much to be told … so much to plan for.

Leah, Tom and Belinda were to leave soon after the wedding and there came that moment when we had to say goodbye.

Belinda was like a wild-eyed sprite. She could not stand still.

“We’ll come back to see you,” she said. “And you can come out to see us. My father says so …”

She jumped up and put her arms round my neck.

“I do love you, Rebecca,” she said a little ruefully, as though apologizing for her enthusiasm. “I will come back and see you.” She hugged me more tightly. “And now you can marry that boring old Pedrek.”

“Thank you. I shall,” I told her.