The Captive

by Виктория Холт

  “Yes, perfectly.”

  “And was I very different?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “You were different, too. You were at school … very young… eager… innocent. And then on the ship together … how we used to sit on the deck and talk. Remember Madeira ? We were so unaware of the monstrous thing that was about to happen to us.”

  As he was talking I was living it all again.

  He said: “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reminded you. If we had any sense we’d do our best to forget.”

  “We can’t forget, Lucas. We can’t ever forget.”

  “We could … if we made up our minds. We could start

  a new life together. Do you remember when we talked of our initials? I said it was significant that Life had brought us together, little knowing then what we were to endure. How close we have become since then. I said my initials spelt HELL . Hadrian Edward Lucas Lorimer, and as RC you could bring me back to the path of righteousness. Do you remember? “

  “Yes, I do, very well.”

  “Well, it’s true. You could save me. You see, it has come to pass. I was speaking prophetically. You and I … we could face everything together… we could make life better than it was before …”

  “Oh, Lucas … I wish …”

  “We could go right away from here. Anywhere we fancied …”

  “You couldn’t leave Trecorn, Lucas. Carleton needs you there.”

  “Well, would it matter where we were? We could help him together.”

  “Oh, Lucas … I am so sorry. I truly wish …”

  He smiled at me ruefully.

  “I understand,” he said.

  “Well, let’s make the best of what is. Whatever happens, what we went through together will always make us special friends. I often think of that man Player.

  I wonder what happened to him. I should like to know, wouldn’t you?”

  I nodded, afraid to speak.

  He went on: “I understand why you did this, Rosetta. It’s because you want to move away from all that went before. You’re right in a way. So you have gone to that place. It’s entirely new … new surroundings, new work … a challenge. Particularly the girl. You have changed, Rosetta. I have to say I think she is helping you.”

  “Yes, I am sure she is.”

  “It’s brave of you to have done this. I think I’m something of a coward.”

  “Oh no, no. You suffered more than I did. And you brought about your own freedom.”

  “Only because I was a useless hulk.”

  “You’re not useless. I love you very much. I admire you, and I am so grateful because you are my friend.”

  He took my hand and held it firmly.

  “Will you always remember that?”

  “Always,” I said.

  “I’m so glad to have seen you. I feel so safe … to know that you are nearby.”

  “I shall always be there,” he said.

  “And perhaps one day you will call me in. Now … let’s get out of this place. Come. Show me your Goldie. Let’s ride out to the sea and gallop along the beach. Let’s tell ourselves that our good angels are smiling on us and all our wishes will be granted. There is a nice sentimental speech for an old cynic, is it not?”

  “Yes, and I like to hear it.”

  “After all, who knows what will be waiting for us?”

  “One can never tell.”

  And we went out to the horses.

  Mrs. Ford caught me as I was going to the schoolroom for the morning lessons.

  “Nanny Crockett is coming over this afternoon,” she said.

  “Jack Carter is taking a load to Turner’s Farm, so he’ll be bringing her over for a couple of hours. She’ll want to see you, so do come up to my room for a cup of tea.”

  I said I should be delighted to do so.

  As we were talking, there was a commotion in the hall. I heard the voice of the head gardener; he was saying something about roses.

  Mrs. Ford raised her eyebrows.

  “That man,” she said.

  “You’d think the whole world depended on his flowers. He’s making such a noise down there. I’d better go and see what it’s all about.”

  Out of curiosity, I followed her.

  Several of the servants were in the hall. Littleton, the head gardener, was clearly very angry.

  Mrs. Ford said in a commanding voice: “Now what is all this about?”

  “You may well ask, Mrs. Ford,” said Littleton.

  “Four of my best roses in their prime … someone has stolen them … right from under my nose.”

  “Well, who’s done it?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know. If I could get my hands on them.”

  “Her ladyship may have fancied them.”

  “Her ladyship never touches the flowers. I’ve looked after those roses. I’ve been waiting all this time to see them in bloom.

  Beautiful, they was. A sort of pinky blue . a rare colour for a rose. Never seen anything like them before. They was special, they was . and I’ve been waiting all this time for the flowers. Took a bit of rearing they did . and then someone comes and picks them . without a by your leave. “

  “Well, Mr. Littleton,” said Mrs. Ford, “I’m sorry, but I’ve not touched your roses … and, if you can find who has that’s up to you, but I can’t have you disturbing my servants. They’ve got work to do.”

  Littleton turned his agonized face to Mrs. Ford.

  “They were my special roses,” he said piteously.

  I left them and went up to the schoolroom.

  It was difficult to settle to lessons that morning. Kate wanted to hear about my meeting with Lucas on the previous day.

  “I was staying with his family, you know,” I told her.

  “So he thought he’d come over to see me.”

  “Did he ask you to leave here?”

  I hesitated.

  “He did,” she said.

  “And you told him you would.”

  “I did not. I told him we were reading Treasure Island and that you and I get along moderately well. That’s right, isn’t it?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, now let’s see if we can master these sums and if we can we’ll have an extra fifteen minutes’ reading. Then I believe we could finish the book today.”

  “All right,” she said.

  “Get out the slate and we’ll start right away.”

  Simon was very much in my thoughts that morning. The meeting with Lucas had been unsettling, and the prospect of seeing Nanny Crockett had brought back memories more vividly than usual.

  When I reached Mrs. Ford’s room Nanny Crockett had not yet arrived but she had a visitor. It was the rector, the Reverend Arthur James. Mrs. Ford was evidently a great church worker and he had come to consult her about the flower decoration for the church.

  She introduced me.

  “Welcome to Perrivale, Miss Cranleigh,” he said.

  “I have been hearing from Mrs. Ford how well you are managing with Kate.”

  “Mrs. Ford has been very kind to me,” I said.

  “Mrs. Ford is kind to everyone. We have good reason to know that. My wife and I often ask each other what we would do without her. It is the decorations, you know. We rely so much on Perrivale for so many things. The big house, you see … garden fetes and so on. It has been the same through generations. Sir Edward took a great interest in the church.”

  “Oh yes, he was a real churchman,” said Mrs. Ford.

  “He’d be at church twice every Sunday … and so were the rest of the family too. Then we had prayers every day in the hall. Yes, he was a real one for the church, was Sir Edward.”

  “Sadly missed,” added the rector.

  “We don’t have many like him nowadays. The younger generation haven’t the same commitment. I hope to see you there with your charge, Miss Cranleigh. “

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Of course.”

  “Miss Kate
is a bit of a handful,” said Mrs. Ford, ‘but Miss Cranleigh is working wonders. Her ladyship is very pleased. It was my idea that she should come. Rector. Nanny Crockett and I worked it out between us. Her ladyship can’t thank me enough. “

  “Very gratifying.”

  “This is the list,” said Mrs. Ford.

  “Mrs. Terris always likes to do the altar. So I’ve put her there. And the windowsills I thought could go to Miss Cherry and her sister … on one side of the church, that is, and on the other. Miss Jenkins and Mrs. Purvis. I thought if I added the flowers they’re to use there’d be no squabbling.”

  He had taken out his spectacles and was studying the list.

  “Excellent… excellent… I knew I could trust you, Mrs. Ford, to make the arrangements amicably.”

  They exchanged mischievous glances which implied that trouble could ensue, but for Mrs. Ford’s skilful handling of the affair.

  In due course the rector rose to go. He shook hands and repeated his hope that he would see Kate and me in church on Sunday, and departed.

  Not long after he had left Nanny Crockett arrived. She was delighted to see me and Mrs. Ford looked on benignly while we greeted each other.

  “My word,” said Nanny Crockett, ‘you do look well. And what’s this I hear about you and Miss Kate getting on like a house on fire? “

  “The change in Miss Kate is really remarkable,” said Mrs. Ford.

  “Sir Tristan and my lady are very pleased.”

  “Miss Cranleigh has a way with children,” said Nanny Crockett.

  “Some of us have it, some of us don’t. I saw it right from the start with my two.”

  “How are the twins?” I asked.

  “Poor little mites. To lose a mother … well, that’s not something it’s easy to get over. Though they’re young … I’m thankful for that. If they’d have been a year or two older they’d have understood more what was going on. Now they think she’s gone to Heaven and that to them might be like going off to Plymouth. They think she’s coming back. They keep asking when. It breaks your heart. They ask after you, too. You must come over and see them some time. They’d like that. Of course, there’d be tears when you left, most likely. Well, I do what I can.”

  “And how is Mr. Carleton, Nanny?”

  She shook her head.

  “Sometimes I think he’ll never get over it. Poor man. He goes about in a sort of dream. Mr. Lucas … well, you never know with him. He broods a lot, I think. It’s a sad household. I try to make it as merry as I can in the nursery.”

  She was looking at me intently, hoping of course to get a word with me so that I could report progress. What progress? I wondered. When I considered it I had not come very far, and apart from the fact that I was being moderately successful with Kate, my little exercise was really quite fruitless.

  We chattered about things in general . the weather, the state of the crops, little bits of gossip about the neighbourhood.

  Mrs. Ford did leave us together for about half an hour. She said she had to go to the kitchen. Something she had to attend to regarding the evening meal. She wanted a word with Cook and it really couldn’t wait.

  “You two can look after each other while I’m gone,” she said.

  As soon as we were alone Nanny Crockett burst out:

  “Have you found anything?”

  I shook my head.

  “Sometimes I wonder whether I ever shall. I don’t know where the key to the mystery lies.”

  “Something will turn up. I feel it in my bones. If it doesn’t, my poor boy will spend the rest of his life abroad . wandering about. That can’t be. “

  “But Nanny … even if we discovered the truth and he was cleared, we shouldn’t be able to get in touch with him easily.”

  “It would be in the papers, wouldn’t it?”

  “But if he’s abroad … he wouldn’t see them.”

  “We’d find a way. First we’ve got to prove him innocent.”

  “I often wonder where to begin.”

  “I think she had something to do with it.”

  “Do you mean Lady Perrivale?”

  She nodded.

  “Why should she?”

  “That’s what you’ve got to find out. And him too … he came into everything, didn’t he? That would be the motive. You have to have a motive.”

  “We’ve gone into all that before.”

  “You’re not giving up, are you?”

  “No … no. But I do wish I could make some progress.”

  “Well, you’re in the best place to do it. If there’s anything I can do at any time …”

  “You are a good ally. Nanny.”

  “Well, we’re not far apart. I expect you’ll be coming over to Trecorn sometimes and I can get Jack Carter to bring me here now and then. So we’re in touch. I can’t tell you what I’d give to see my boy again.”

  “I know.”

  Mrs. Ford came back.

  “I do believe this place would go to rack and ruin without me. If I’ve told Cook once I’ve told her twenty times that her ladyship can’t abide garlic. She wanted to put some in the stew. She was with a French family for a few months and it’s given her ideas. You have to keep your eye on them. I stopped her just in time. You two had a nice cosy chat?”

  “I was saying that if I can get Jack Carter to bring me I’ll come over again soon.”

  “Any time. You’re welcome. You know that. Oh look, Rector’s left his spectacles behind. That man would forget his head if it wasn’t fixed on his shoulders. He’ll be lost without them. I’ll have to get them over to him.”

  “I’ll take them,” I said.

  “I’d like a little walk.”

  “Oh, will you? I wonder if he’s missed them yet. If he hasn’t, he soon will.”

  I took the spectacles and Nanny Crockett said she must be going. Jack Carter would be here at any minute and he didn’t like to be kept waiting.

  “Then you’d better go down,” said Mrs. Ford.

  “Well, goodbye. Nanny, and don’t forget, any time… and there’ll be a cup of my best Darjeeling for you.”

  I went with Nanny Crockett to the gate and we had not been there more than a few minutes when Jack Carter drove up. Nanny Crockett climbed up beside him and I waved as the cart trundled off.

  Then I made my way to the church. The Reverend Arthur James was delighted to receive his spectacles, and I made the acquaintance of his wife, who said with mock severity that he was always losing them and this would be a lesson to him.

  I was invited in but I said I had to get back as Kate would be waiting for me. I came out of the rectory and found myself walking through the churchyard. It is strange the fascination such places have. I could not resist pausing to read some of the inscriptions on the gravestones. They were of people who had lived a hundred years ago. I wondered about their lives. There was the Perrivale vault. Cosmo was buried there. If only he could speak and tell us what really happened.

  My eye was caught by the sight of a jam-jar, for in it were four exquisite roses-pink roses with a blueish tinge about them.

  I could not believe my eyes. I went close to look. There was the cheap headstone, inconspicuous among the splendour of the other graves; and I knew that those were the very roses the loss of which Littleton the gardener had been mourning this very day.

  For some moments I stood staring at them.

  Who had put them there? I thought of the meadow sweet, obviously picked from the hedges. But these roses . Who had taken the roses from the Perrivale garden to put in a jam-jar on the grave of an unknown man?

  Why had Kate shown me the grave?

  I walked thoughtfully back to Perrivale Court. The more I thought of it, the more likely it seemed that Kate was the one who had taken the roses and put them on the grave.

  She was waiting for me when I returned and I had not been in my room for more than a few minutes when she came in.

  She sat on the bed and looked at me accusingly.


  “You’ve been out again,” she said.

  “Yesterday you went to see that man and today you were with Mrs. Ford and when I went up there you’d gone again.”

  “The rector left his glasses behind and I took them back to him.”

  “Silly old man. He’s always losing something.”

  “Some people are a little absentminded. They often have more important things to think about. Did you hear all the commotion this morning about the roses?”

  “What roses?” She was alert and I knew instinctively that I was on the right track.

  “There were some special ones. Littleton had taken great care with them and was very proud of them. Someone took them. He was furious.

  Well, I know where they are. “

  She looked at me cautiously.

  I went on: “They are in the graveyard on the grave of the man who was

  drowned. Do you remember? You showed me his grave. There was some meadowsweet in the jam-jar then. Now there are Littleton’s prize roses.”

  “I could see you thought the meadowsweet was awful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, wild flowers. People usually put roses and lilies and that sort of thing on people’s graves.”

  “Kate,” I said, ‘you took the roses. You put them on that grave. “

  She was silent. Why? I wondered.

  “Didn’t you?” I persisted.

  “All the others have things on them… statues and things. What are a few flowers?”

  “Why did you do it, Kate?”

  She wriggled.

  “Let’s read,” she said.

  “I couldn’t settle down to reading with this hanging over us,” I said.

  “Hanging over us! What do you mean?” She was bellicose, a sign of being on the defensive with her.

  “Tell me truthfully why you put the flowers on that grave, Kate.”

  “Because he didn’t have any. What are a few old roses? Besides, they’re not Littleton’s. They’re Stepper’s or my mother’s. They didn’t say anything. They wouldn’t know whether they were in the garden or on the grave.”

  “Why did you feel this about this man?”

  “He hadn’t got anything.”

  “It’s the first time I’ve realized you have a soft heart. It’s not like you, Kate.”

  “Well,” she said, tossing her head, “I wanted to.”