In a Field of Blue

by Liviero, Gemma

  I have learned to heal since, and Mariette has helped me through the worst of it, I believe, but I must never come home.

  Raise my son, Samuel, like I would have done had war not taken my soul. Take this to prove to Roland, and tell Mother, that Samuel is my son and therefore bequeathed Lakeland Manor and the estate. It is my dearest wish that you and Mother act as joint guardians of Samuel and, as per the original terms of the estate, for Mother to continue running the estate in my absence. This letter is to be presented as my final binding will. (Tell my brother from me that if he considers contesting, it is worth my while to return home and risk prison. It is the only thing that will bring me home, but tell him also that I will be paying him a visit first.)

  It is my wish that Lakeland Manor always be your home. That you find peace also with everything that has happened. I know that a greater life awaits, if you’re game enough to find it, Brother. If you take a chance, if you have no fear.

  Your loving brother,

  In spirit always,

  Edgar S. Watts

  CHAPTER 33

  I arrived in central London, the hub of the world it felt like: noisy, crowded, and metallic, something that should exist far in the future. The contrast to where I had come from was jarring and seemingly less approachable and colder than the mountains of ice I had walked through.

  I felt a relative calm on the final leg of my journey. I held the other piece of the photograph that had once included Helene. I stared at the faces of Mariette and Edgar, resigned to put them in a place in my heart now, remember them well, and remember Mariette in my arms on the last night and Edgar like he was before, things I would carry with me forever.

  As I strode defiantly over the final crest toward my home, with the secure knowledge that it would remain so, I stopped suddenly to take in a chilling new reality. The glass windows of the house were shattered, and the ghostly black shadows of fire crept over the sills and across the stonework outside. I ran the final distance, passing the flowerbeds that had been trodden by heavy boots, into the cavity that was once the grand entrance. The house was strangely hollowed in places, yet walls still stood in others. The stairs and the shining oak floors were missing or blackened. There was an acrid smell of burnt things, and the floor was littered with rubble and piles of dampened ash. Part of the roof had sunk, but the shell for the most part had defiantly stood its ground, though deemed irreparable in coming months. The memories here reduced to remnants of things that I barely recognized. Lakeland was gone.

  “It’s in a bad state, Master Rudy.”

  I turned to find Bert behind me. My mind was so numb I had not heard him pull up in the car. I was relieved also to see him before panic quickly followed.

  “Where are the others?”

  “Everyone escaped the fire. Do not fear. Both Peggy and Mother are in hospital, though it is mostly their spirits that are broken. They are recovering from the shock.”

  I breathed out in relief.

  “I’m sorry you found it like this. I was on the O’Learys’ farm. I saw you walking from there. The firemen did all they could.”

  “When?”

  “The day before yesterday it happened. Roland came to see your mother when he heard about it and passed on that you had left France to travel to Sally in Canada. I sent a telegram there, but you were obviously already at sea. I’m sorry you had to find it this way. Though you should not investigate any further. It is dangerous; more of the roof could fall at any minute.”

  I followed Bert outside.

  “The horses are all fine. It did not reach the stable, as you can see, but I’ve taken them elsewhere for now.”

  “And Samuel is with you then?”

  Bert hesitated before answering.

  “Laurence has taken Samuel with him. I can’t tell you everything. But Laurence was here when the fire started.”

  His final sentence put me instantly on edge; the words unsaid here spoke of other things more sinister. A sense of urgency replaced my feelings of loss toward the house. I dropped Bert off at his temporary lodgings and drove first to the hospital.

  Mother cried when she saw me. By her bedside Peggy sat faithfully with her arm in a bandage. She had a burn from when she went to rescue my mother, who had tried to pour water on the fire before realizing that any attempt was useless. It was not the time to tell Mother about Edgar, and she did not yet ask, still overcome from the tragedy of losing the manor. But that wasn’t all Mother was distressed about.

  “Rudy,” she said, her hands to her chest and her face heavily lined from worry. “You have to go see Laurence and collect Samuel. There was nowhere else for him to go with us in hospital. I’m sure the boy is fine, but it would be better he be with you.”

  There was something desperate about both her request and assurance. I knew she had the same fears as I did, yet as a mother she could not believe them also. The doctor came in at that point and, seeing that Mother was agitated, reminded her to stay calm.

  “I will take Rudy outside and explain the rest,” said Peggy, warmly gripping my mother’s hand. Mother closed her eyes, a little more at peace, her trust in Peggy absolute.

  Outside the hospital room, Peggy explained in more detail.

  “Laurence came looking for a fight. He told your mother she must sell the property. He was quite unreasonable and would not listen to your mother explain that the house was and could still be left to the boy. She reminded him of the handwritten will she had witnessed, and this it seemed sent him mad.

  “Laurence demanded she give him the will, but Abigail lied and said she did not know where it was kept. He didn’t believe her and searched her room and everywhere in the house then, and your mother was quite overcome with the trauma of it. I told Laurence he had to leave, that his mother was ill, but he continued searching. He went upstairs, tore open drawers in Edgar’s room, and then went through yours. He was not himself.

  “I left to find Bert, but as we returned to the house, Laurence had left and the top floors were burning and smoke was pouring out of the window. We had to get your mother out.”

  Peggy was weeping then that they had no time to attend to Samuel, but the urgency of my mother inside a burning building diverted them.

  “He took the boy,” she said apologetically, and seemed to feel in some way to blame. “The police went to speak to Laurence about the fire and to check on the boy as requested by your mother, but he wasn’t home.”

  “I will find Laurence and bring Samuel home.” Though where home was now, I couldn’t say. “Laurence is selfish, though I do not believe that he would harm a child,” I said to reassure her.

  I returned to Mother to console her that I would look after everything. She was a little more rested but filled with melancholy, blaming herself for not foreseeing the trouble with Laurence. I could have told her then that he dazzled her with words and that her love made her turn a blind eye to his indiscretions.

  “And what has happened to you? What news of Edgar?” she said now that she was calmer.

  “I will tell you everything when I return,” I said. “Rest assured it is something you will want to hear. Though we must leave it at that for now.”

  I saw the look on my mother’s face. I saw some color restore to it and knew that I had made the right decision telling her something at least.

  “You must go,” she said. “You must hurry!”

  I left the hospital and drove for hours to London, first to Laurence’s office. I bounded up the stairs of the opulent office building with its lead-glass doors, gilded decor, and marble floors.

  The door to his office was open, and inside were a frenzy of papers scattered across the floor and pieces of furniture missing.

  Someone walked in behind me.

  “May I help you?” he asked.

  “The lawyer who worked here,” I said, “do you know where I can find him?” I did not of course wish to divulge anything more.

  “You mean the shyster who used to work here?�
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  “I don’t understand.”

  “I am the manager of this building, and he owes lots of money. He’s had heavies come to visit wanting credits paid and customers sending demand letters. I can tell you that he does not come in bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, that’s for certain. Do you know him?”

  “Yes,” I said, but had no time to explain.

  “I’ve tried him at home, but no answer there. If you are looking to get paid, I would try the clubs and bars, anywhere there’s whiskey . . . and let me know if you find him.”

  I thanked the manager and walked solemnly downstairs. At Laurence’s apartment, I had the same absent reception. I asked a neighbor if he had seen him.

  “There are always comings and goings, so for it to be quiet is unusual,” he said. “He has not been home in days.”

  I then went to his favorite club, where I was not a member. At the door I asked if a message could be passed and waited in the stately hall of the Victory Club. The doorman returned to say that there was no one there by that name. I was unsure about what to do when I recognized Fred leaving the club: the friend of Laurence’s who had been to our house. When he saw me he turned sheepishly away.

  “Fred!” I called. He could not ignore me.

  “I’m sorry, Rudy, I cannot tell you anything. Laurence doesn’t want to see you.”

  “Did you ask why?”

  “Apparently you are trying to weasel him out of his inheritance with a child from a sham marriage.”

  “Fred, it’s not true. And whatever else he told you is a lie.”

  I could see that Fred was not completely unknowing. He had probably experienced Laurence long enough now to understand the underside of his personality, but the old establishment and keeping mum were hard to fracture.

  “He’s in there,” he said quietly, guiltily. “But don’t tell him I said anything.” He was gone quickly then.

  I grew angry. If he was at the club, then where was Samuel? I could not wait another moment and barged past the doorman, who failed to grip on to my shoulder as I passed. I walked through the tables until I found him at the back. He was amongst new faces that I hadn’t seen before.

  He stood up unsteadily as I approached and pointed a finger at me. “You need to leave!”

  “Where is the boy?”

  One of his friends stood up and asked me to remove myself, but I did not budge. The man from the door had called another to deal with me and escort me from the room. I had only one card to play.

  “This man here,” I shouted to room, “has burned down his own home!”

  It was intense, but I got the reaction I was hoping for.

  One of the group told Laurence to go somewhere with his brother to deal with his family issues in private.

  “I will leave quietly,” I told the heavyweight gripping me, “if you let go of my arm.” He did so, and I followed Laurence storming toward a small private wood-paneled room.

  As I entered the room, he grabbed me and threw me against a wall. He was strong and with alcohol perhaps stronger. He had also learned to fight, and if it came to it, he was the sort of chap who, although vain and shamelessly worried about his appearance, would fight to the death to prove he was the best.

  “What are you going to do? Beat your own brother to a pulp? I think the club would likely rescind your membership!”

  I could smell the abuse of alcohol on his breath, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

  “Tell me where Samuel is, and I will go.”

  He released me, then straightened his suit and ran his fingers through his hair, then pointed his finger at me.

  “You had no right to allow him in that house, to fool Mother like that. That house is mine!”

  I smiled. “If it means so much, then why did you set fire to it?”

  He recoiled slightly. He could not stand to be known as an arsonist; even a whiff of it in circles would oust him once and for all from London society.

  “You always think the worst of me.”

  “I don’t th-th—” The stuttering had returned, and always at the wrong moment.

  He laughed sharply. “Oh, Rudy, you are pathetic! And now you are pinning the fire on me. Do you think anyone would really believe that?”

  “The insurance assessors will s-s—” I would not let the damned speech-stealing snake beat me this time. “You took Mother’s jewels to sell, didn’t you? It wasn’t Mariette.”

  “A vicious lie!” he said, pointing at my face.

  “I went to your office, too. Things aren’t looking good for you right now.”

  “You should not be prying into my affairs,” he said.

  I wondered then if others knew and how long he hadn’t been working, perhaps weeks, pretending, borrowing, sleeping on couches.

  “You set fire to the house to ensure the transfer of inheritance to pay your debts.”

  He knew that he was cornered, though I did not believe at any point he would back down. Usually any provocation made him worse.

  “So I am a thief and an arsonist now?”

  “Whether you are or not, right now I don’t give a damn. Just tell me where Samuel is.”

  “Oh yes, the boy,” he said too casually. “The note from Edgar you think he wrote—”

  “The will I know he wrote. The will you wished to be rid of. I have more evidence now that cannot be questioned.”

  “Forgeries are good these days, and you were suckered by the girl. She hooked you from the start. You were never very clever, Rudy. It has something to do with the slowness, the stutter.”

  “Where is he?” I felt fury building, and I tried to suppress it. He wanted to see me riled, and I would not give him such a gift, and I would not give in to the snake.

  “He is with others of his kind. Bastards without parentage.”

  “You mean you placed him in an orphanage?”

  “That is where he must be,” he said. “A nobody like the woman he came with.”

  “I will find him and return him to his rightful place with our mother.”

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “He is Edgar’s son, and I will find him.”

  “The money is ours, Rudy. When the insurance money for the manor comes through, I will give you some of it. When the lands are sold also. I will see to it.”

  He admitted his guilt in these words, in his fake sincerity. I would not be fooled this time. He was lying as he had done his whole life. I remembered the nights on the hills when he would leave me to find my way home, the dark cupboards he would lock me in. The constant forgiving on my part. And then the repeat of the same crimes. I could not forgive this time.

  “You have nothing to give me, Laurence.”

  “It is you who has nothing, Rudy. You will be a failure your whole life, but at least with me you will have some money. Edgar had everything. Got all the privileges. Everything was laid out for him. As if he were king. The girl was another one to take away our share. Yours and mine.”

  “Since when did you care about my share?”

  “I didn’t hate you, you know,” he said, a little quieter. “You just didn’t even care if I was there.”

  I saw something then the alcohol couldn’t conceal, something I had never seen before. He was frailer than all of us. I saw his insecurity, even felt some pity that I did not understand him.

  “If you and Mariette were together, then you would take everything from me,” he continued. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “Is that what you’re worried about . . . that I would win somehow?”

  It wasn’t only that he couldn’t bear the thought of losing money. But me taking something he couldn’t have. Mariette.

  I looked at him there, red in the face, grinning to cover the fear. He had lost his job, his apartment. He had nothing. The life one chooses determines one’s punishments. And I believed Laurence’s punishments would come, without anything else I might have done to him that day.

  “Just
so you know, I gave her money to leave, and she took it.”

  “You mean the worthless ten-pound banknote we found? She left it behind. She didn’t want our money . . .”

  He appeared both skeptical and confused. Though I saw some hint of defeat and weakness there also.

  “Where is Samuel?”

  “I cannot tell you that. It’s best you let him go. It is best for you.”

  I turned and walked toward the door.

  “You should know that I offered to drive her, but she ran off into the night. It is the gypsy blood, you know!” he shouted after me. “You can’t help them. You can’t trust them or keep them.”

  I ignored him, opened the door, and kept walking.

  “Rudy!” he said, following me partway. “We will always be brothers.”

  I felt it was too late to make amends. He had hurt too many, and I couldn’t let him do that anymore. He had lost, and I felt no glory in this reveal, and also oddly no more anger.

  I hoped that Laurence was telling the truth. I traveled to the closest church orphanage to find Samuel wasn’t there, but I was given a list of other houses by the vicar in charge.

  I tried two other places with a knot of fear in my stomach of losing him, of never seeing him again. I walked to another house on the list: a large rectangular gray-brick building that resembled a prison. At the end of a long hallway, leading to an outdoor area, I followed the sounds of children laughing.

  On a bench he was sitting, watching the other children in the playground area. He was concentrating on them, perhaps not caring to be a part of what they were doing. He did not appear anxious or wistful, only curious, as if wondering where he fitted in. Though his eyes were puffy from crying.

  I walked nearer, pondering his golden skin, his pointed chin. Like Helene, I imagined. But when he turned in my direction, I saw the half smile and love in his gaze. I saw Edgar then.

  Samuel stood up and ran to me, and I held the three of them in my arms.

  CHAPTER 34

  Missy bounded ahead along the shoreline and barked playfully at the gulls as I strolled to watch the mist slowly rolling in across the water. The sea was unforgiving and dangerous yet beautiful at this time of day. Spots of rain hit me, and it reminded me of another time when I brought Mariette here.