The Captive

by Виктория Холт

  “Sit down a while, Rosetta,” he said.

  “I think I work you too hard.”

  I laughed.

  “You, John, are the one who works hard. We should never have survived if it had not been for you.”

  “Sometimes I think we shall never get off this island.”

  “Of course we shall. We have been here only a few days. Of course we’ll get off. Look how we found land. Who would have believed that? A ship will come by … you’ll see.”

  “And if it does …” he said and stopped, frowning into the distance.

  I waited for him to go on. Instead he said: “I think this can’t be the route that ships take.”

  “Why shouldn’t it be? You wait and see …”

  “Let’s face it. We’re going to run out of water.”

  “It’ll rain. We’ll collect it.”

  “We’ve got to find food. The biscuits are running out.”

  “Why do you talk like this? It is not like you.”

  “How do you know? You don’t know me very well, do you?”

  “I know you as well as you know me. At times like this people get to know each other quickly. There is not all the fuss of conventions and great gaps in acquaintanceship which you get at home. We are together all the time … night and day. We’ve shared incredible dangers together. You get to know people quickly when it is like that.”

  “Tell me about yourself,” he said.

  “Well, what do you want to know? You saw my parents on board, perhaps.

  I keep wondering what has happened to them. Could they have got into one of the boats? They are so vague. I don’t think they realized what was happening. Their minds were in the past. They often seemed to forget about me, except when they saw me. They would have been more interested in me if I had been a tablet covered in hieroglyphics. At least they named me after the Rosetta Stone. “

  He was smiling and I told him of my happy childhood, mostly spent below stairs, of the maids who were my companions, kitchen meals, Mrs. Harlow, Nanny Pollock and Mr. Dolland’s ‘turns’.

  “I can see I do not have to feel sorry for you.”

  “By no means. I often wonder what Mr. Dolland and the rest are doing now. They will have heard of the shipwreck. Oh dear … they’ll be dreadfully upset. And what will happen to the house? And to, them? I do hope my parents were saved … if not, I don’t know what will happen to them all.”

  “Perhaps you will never know.”

  “There you go again. And it’s your turn. What about you?”

  He was silent for a while. Then he said: “Rosetta, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right, if you don’t want to tell me.”

  “I do. I feel a compulsion to tell you. I think you ought to know.

  Rosetta . my name is not John Player. “

  “No? I thought it might not be.”

  “It’s Simon Perrivale.”

  I was silent. Memories came rushing back. Sitting at the kitchen table . Mr. Dolland putting on his glasses and reading from the newspaper.

  I stammered: “Not the …”

  He nodded.

  “Oh …” I began.

  He interrupted.

  “You’re startled. Of course you are. I’m sorry.

  Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you. I am innocent. I wanted you to know. You may not believe . “

  “I do believe you,” I said sincerely.

  “Thank you, Rosetta. You know now I am, as they say, ” on the run”.”

  “So you worked on a ship as …”

  “Deck hand,” he said.

  “I was lucky. I knew that my arrest was imminent. I was sure they would find me guilty. I wouldn’t have a chance. There was so much against me. But I am innocent, Rosetta. I swear it. I had to get right away, and perhaps later on … if it were possible … find some way of proving my innocence.”

  “Perhaps it would have been better to have remained and faced it.”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not. He was already dead when I got there. The gun was there beside him. I picked it up … it looked as though I were guilty.”

  “You might have proved your innocence.”

  “Not then. Everything was against me. The Press had made up its mind that I was a murderer … so had everyone else. I felt then that I didn’t stand a chance against them all. I wanted to get out of the country in some way so I made my way to Tilbury. I had what I thought was an amazing stroke of luck there. I talked to a sailor in a tavern.

  He was drinking heavily because he didn’t want to go back to sea. His wife was going to have a baby and he couldn’t bear to leave her. He was heartbroken. I took advantage of the fact that he was drunk. I shouldn’t have done so but I was desperate. I felt I had to get out of the country . give myself a chance. It occurred to me that I might take his place . and this is what I did. He was a deck hand on the Atlantic Star, John Player. The ship was sailing that day . it was going to South Africa. I thought if I could get there, I could start a new life and perhaps some day the truth would come out and I could get home. I was desperate, Rosetta. It was a crazy plan but it worked. I was constantly in fear that something might be found out. but nothing was. And then this happened. “

  “I guessed at once that there was something different about you, that you didn’t fit somehow.”

  “On our morning meetings, of course.”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it so obvious?”

  “A little.”

  “I was afraid of Lorimer.”

  “Oh, I understand. He did say something about his home being not far from the Perrivale house.”

  “Yes. He actually came there once. I was about seventeen,

  I imagine then. I was in the stables when he rode in. It was a very brief meeting and one changes a lot in the years. He couldn’t have recognized me, but I was afraid. “

  “And now?” I said.

  “What now?”

  “It looks as though this could be the end of the story.”

  “What happened on that day? Can you bear to talk of it?”

  “I think I could tell you. One wants to talk to someone and you and I well, we’ve become friends … real friends. We trust each other, and even if I felt you might betray me, you couldn’t do much harm here, could you? To whom could you betray me here?”

  “I would not dream of betraying you anywhere! You’ve told me you were innocent anyway.”

  “I never felt that I belonged at Perrivale. That’s rather sad for a child, you know. I have vague memories of what I used to think of as Before. Life was comfortable and easy then. I was five years old before it changed into what I called Now. There was someone I called Angel. She was plump, cosy and smelt of lavender; she was always there to comfort me. There was another one, too. She was Aunt Ada. She did not live in the cottage with us but she came there often. On the days when she came I used to hide under a table which was covered with a red cloth, velvety and smooth. I can feel that cloth now and the faint odour of mothballs, and I can hear the strident voice saying, ” Why don’t you, Alice? ” in tones of reproach. Alice was the cosy lavender-smelling Angel.

  “I remember once going in a train with Angel. We were going to Aunt Ada, to Witch’s Home. I believed then that Aunt Ada was a witch. She must be if she lived in Witch’s Home. I clung to Angel’s hand as we entered. It was a little house with leaded windows which made it dark but everything in it shone brightly. All the time Aunt Ada was telling Angel what she ought to do. I was sent out to the garden. There was water at the bottom of it. I was afraid because I was separated from Angel and I thought Aunt Ada might tell her that she ought to leave me there. I can remember now my great joy when I was in the train once more with Angel beside me. I said, ” Angel, don’t let’s go to the Witch’s Home any more. “

  “We did not go again but Aunt Ada came to us. I would hear her saying, you should do this, you should not do that, and Angel would say, ” Well, you see, Ada, it’s like this . ” And they wo
uld talk about the Boy which I knew referred to me. Aunt Ada was sure I would grow into a criminal if a little more discipline was not shown. Some would say she was right. But it wasn’t so, Rosetta. I am innocent.”

  “I do believe you,” I told him.

  He was silent for a while and his eyes looked dreamily back into the past.

  He went on: “There was a man who used to come and visit us. I found out in due course that he was Sir Edward Perrivale. He brought presents for Angel and for me. She always looked pleased when he came, so I was, too. I used to be put on his knee and he would look at me and every now and then give a little chuckle. Then he would say:

  “Good boy. Fine boy.” And that was all. But I thought it was rather nice and a change from Aunt Ada.

  “One day I had been playing in the garden and came into the cottage to find Angel seated in a chair by the table. She had her hand to her breast; she looked pale and was gasping. I cried, ” Angel, Angel, I’m here. ” I was frightened and bewildered because she didn’t look at me.

  And then suddenly she shut her eyes and she wasn’t like Angel at all.

  I was frightened and went on calling her name, but she fell forward with her head down. I started to scream. People came in. They took me away then and I knew something dreadful had happened. Aunt Ada came and it was no use hiding under the tablecloth. She soon found me and told me I was a wicked boy. I didn’t care what she called me, I just wanted Angel to be there.

  “She was dead. It was a strange, bewildering time. I can’t remember much of it … except that there was a constant stream of people coming to the cottage and it wasn’t the same place any more. She lay in a coffin in the parlour with the blinds drawn down. Aunt Ada took me to have ” a last look at her”. She made me kiss her cold face. I screamed and tried to run away. It wasn’t the Angel I had known lying there .. indifferent to me and my need of her. Why am I telling you all this and telling it as a child? Why don’t I just say she died, and that’s that?”

  “You are telling it as it should be told,” I said.

  “You make me see it as it was … as you lived it… and that is how I want to see it.”

  He went on: “I can hear the tolling of the funeral bell. I can see these black-clad figures and Aunt Ada like some grisly prophet of disaster … watching me all the time, menacing me.

  “Sir Edward came down for the funeral. There was a great deal of talk and it concerned ” the Boy”. I knew my future was in the balance and I was very frightened.

  “I asked Mrs. Stubbs who used to come to the cottage to scrub the floors where Angel was and she said, ” Don’t you worry your little head about her. She’s safe enough. She’s in Heaven with the angels. ” Then I heard someone say, ” Of course he’ll go to Ada. “

  “I could not imagine a worse fate. I had half suspected it. Ada was Angel’s sister and since Angel was in Heaven, someone had to look after the boy. I knew there was one thing I had to do. I had to find Angel, so I set out to go to Heaven where I should see her and tell her that she must come back or I would stay with her there.

  “I did not get very far before I met one of the farmworkers driving a cartload of hay. He stopped and called down to me, ” Where you off to, young fellow-me-lad? ” And I’re plied, ” I’m going to Heaven. “

  “That’s a long way,” he said.

  “You going on your own?”

  “Yes,” I told him.

  “Angel is there. I’m going to her.” He said, “You’re little Simon, ain’t you?

  I’ve heard about you. Here. Hop in and I’ll give you a lift. “

  “Are you going to Heaven, then?” I said.

  “Not yet, I hope,” he said.

  “But I know the way you ought to go.” He lifted me up beside him. And what he did was take me back to the cottage. Sir Edward was the first to see me. Touching his forehead, the man who had betrayed me said, “Begging your pardon, sir, but the little lad belongs here. I picked him up on the road. On his way to Heaven, he tells me. Thought I’d best bring him back, sir.”

  “Sir Edward had a strange look on his face. He gave the man money and thanked him and then he said to me, ” We’ll have a talk, shall we? ” He took me into the cottage and we went into the parlour which still smelt of lilies, but the coffin wasn’t there and I knew with a terrible sense of loneliness that she would not be there any more.

  “Sir Edward put me on his knee. I thought he was going to say ” Fine boy”, but he didn’t. What he said was, ” So you were trying to find your way to Heaven, were you, boy? ” I nodded.

  “It’s a place you can’t reach.” I watched his mouth moving as he spoke. He had a line of hair above the top lip and a pointed beard-a Vandyke actually.

  “Why did you go?” he asked. I was not able to express myself with lucidity. I said, “Aunt Ada.” He seemed to understand.

  “You don’t want to go with her. She is your aunt.” I shook my head.

  “No, no, no,” I said.

  “You don’t like her?” I nodded.

  “Well, well,” he said.

  “Let’s see what we can do.” He was very thoughtful. I think he must have made up his mind then, for a day or so later I heard that I was going away to a big house. Sir Edward was going to take me into his family. “

  He smiled at me.

  “You have drawn your own conclusions. I am sure they are correct. I was his son … his illegitimate son, though it was hard to believe that, he being the man I came to know later. I was sure he loved my mother, Angel. Anybody must. I sensed it when they were together, but of course he couldn’t marry her. She was not the right sort for him. He must have fallen in love with her and set her up in the cottage and he came to visit her from time to time. I was never told this by Sir Edward or anyone. It was an assumption, but so plausible that it was accepted by all. Why else should he have taken me into his household and educated me with his sons? “

  “So,” I said.

  “That is how you came to Perrivale Court.”

  “Yes. I was two years older than Cosmo and three than Tristan. That was fortunate for me; otherwise I should have had a bad time, I think.

  Those two years gave me an advantage. I needed it, for, having installed me in his nursery. Sir Edward seemed to lose interest in me, though sometimes I saw him watching me furtively. The servants resented me. If it hadn’t been for the nanny I should probably have been as badly off as I would with Aunt Ada. But the nanny took pity on me. She loved me and protected me. I always remember how much I owe to that good woman.

  “Then we had a tutor when I was about seven years old, a Mr. Welling, I remember, and I got on well with him. He must have heard the gossip but it did not affect him. I was more serious than Cosmo and Tristan and I had those two years as an advantage.

  “There was, of course. Lady Perrivale. She was a terrifying person and I was glad that she seemed quite unaware of my existence. She very rarely spoke to me and I had the impression that she did not see me.

  She was a large woman and everyone apart from Sir Edward was afraid of her. It was well known in the house that her money had saved Perrivale Court and that she was the daughter of a millionaire coal-owner or ironmaster. There seemed to be a divergence of opinion as to which. She had been an only daughter and he had wanted a title for her. He was ready to pay a price for it and much of the money made from iron or coal had gone into bolstering up the roof and walls of Perrivale Court. It must have seemed a good arrangement to Sir Edward for, as well as keeping the roof over his head, she provided him with two sons as well. I had one desire-to keep out of her way. So now you have a picture of the sort of household I was in. “

  “Yes, and then you went away to school?”

  “Which was decidedly better for me. There I was equal with the others.

  I was good at lessons, fair at sports and I did well. I lost a little of that aggressiveness which I had built up in the early years. I was ready to defend myself before there was any need to d
o so. I looked for slights and insults where there were none. School was good for me.

  “Too soon it was over. We had ceased to be boys. There was enough work on the estate to keep us all busy and we worked comparatively well together. We were reasonable adults now … all of us.

  “I was about twenty-four when Major Durrell came to the neighbourhood.

  His daughter came with him. She was a widow with a small child, a girl. The widow was startlingly beautiful-red-haired and green-eyed. Very unusual. We were all rather fascinated by her. Both Cosmo and Tristan in particular, but she chose Cosmo and their engagement was announced. “

  I looked at him steadily. Had he cared for the widow, as had been suggested? Did the prospect of her marriage to someone else arouse his anger, despair, jealousy? Had he planned to have the widow for himself? No. I did believe him. He had spoken with such sincerity. He had made me see the nursery presided over by the kindly nanny and the arrival in their midst of the fascinating widow-Mirabel was what the papers had called her.

  “Yes,” he went on.

  “She had chosen Cosmo. Lady Perrivale was very pleased. She was very eager for her sons to marry and give her grandchildren and she was delighted that Cosmo’s bride was to be Mirabel. Mirabel’s mother, it seemed, had been an old schoolfriend of hers her best

  friend, we heard. She had married the Major and, although she was now dead. Lady Perrivale gave a warm welcome to the widower and his daughter. She had known the Major when her friend had married him, and he had written telling her that he had retired from the Army and was thinking of settling somewhere. What about Cornwall? Lady Perrivale was delighted and found Seashell Cottage for them. That was how they came to be there. And then, of course, there was the engagement to Cosmo which followed very soon. You see how the stage was set. “

  “I am beginning to see it very clearly,” I said.

  “We were all working on the estate and there was this farmhouse, Bindon Boys. The farmer who had lived there and worked the farm had died some three years before and the land had been let out to a farmer on a temporary basis but no one had taken on the house. It was in a bad state and needed a bit of restoration as well as decorating.”