Darkwater

by Dorothy Eden

  Aunt Louisa had not made any extensive alterations for the new children. The old nursery fireguard had been returned to the fireplace, and several low chairs brought in. Fanny had been through the cupboards and brought out such toys and games as had survived George’s rough treatment. There was a battered dolls’ house for Nolly, and some toy soldiers for Marcus.

  But the children had not yet developed an interest in a European child’s toys, for when Fanny, obeying Uncle Edgar’s instructions, came up to get them she found two small outlandish figures in a state of wild excitement.

  Their trunks were standing open and the contents scattered about. Nolly was dressed in a scarlet kimono decorated with black and gold dragons, Marcus in silk trousers and jacket. Nolly not only had a pair of high-heeled shoes much too large for her, but she had earrings hanging precariously from her ears, and rings which she clutched on her fingers. Ching Mei stood scowling fiercely, the situation obviously out of her control.

  ‘Miss Nolly velly bad,’ she said to Fanny.

  ‘Marcus is, too,’ Nolly declared. ‘He wanted his Chinese clothes on. It was his idea.’

  Marcus stopped his capering to look at Nolly with open mouth. His slavish following of his sister brought its own bewilderment. But in a moment he was grinning happily and saying that they were being Chinese children.

  ‘That’s very amusing,’ said Fanny. ‘But at this moment your Uncle wants to see you downstairs. So quickly put on your proper clothes.’

  Nolly backed into a corner.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘We don’t want to. We want to be Chinese children.’

  Her eyes had their hard black stare, there was a high spot of colour in each of her cheeks. But with her drunken jewellery and her shoes askew, she looked too comical to be taken seriously.

  ‘Then I shall have to turn you into an English child again,’ Fanny said light-heartedly. ‘Take off those ridiculous shoes to begin with.’

  ‘They’re not ridiculous,’ Nolly said in a low voice. ‘They’re my Mamma’s.’

  Fanny looked at the silver brocade shoes, slightly tarnished, too big for Nolly, but small for a grown woman. She felt a sharp pang of pity, thinking of the dead woman with her little feet and her love of flamboyant jewellery. For the stones Nolly was wearing were large dull green ones, not at all like the discreet pearls and garnets which English women wore.

  ‘Miss Nolly velly bad,’ Ching Mei said again, helplessly.

  Fanny nodded, but a little absently. Her feeling of pity had reminded her of almost forgotten scenes she herself had once created. She remembered shaking Amelia violently in her cradle a few moments after her mother had lovingly kissed her good night. There had been a great to-do and Miss Fanny hadn’t been allowed near Baby for some weeks after. There had been tantrums in the schoolroom when Miss Ferguson, newly arrived, had had it explained to her that Miss Amelia was the daughter of the house, Miss Fanny only a sort of cousin. She had hated birthday parties, always, and even Christmas.

  The little girl backed balefully into the corner now was not so strange.

  Fanny was not concerned with winning a battle, but in making her happy.

  She made an abrupt decision.

  ‘Nolly, little sweet, you can’t walk downstairs in those shoes. You’ll lose them at once. So put on your own, and you may visit Uncle Edgar in your kimono.’

  Nolly stared.

  ‘Won’t he be angry?’

  ‘He’s very kind. Don’t you remember last night he promised to show you his watch that plays a tune?’

  Uncle Edgar was kind. She counted on that. But if he took exception to the way the children were behaving, Fanny intended to fight on their side. Didn’t he know what it was to be so young and alone in a strange place…But of course he didn’t. He never had been. She must rely on his kindness only.

  She hadn’t counted on his amusement. When he saw the two strangely-garbed children he burst into a roar of laughter.

  ‘What’s this, eh? A charade? Fancy dress party? Are these all the clothes you could bring with you from China? Is that all that was in those trunks?’

  The last question was addressed to Ching Mei who stood in her familiar attitude, with bowed head and clasped hands.

  ‘Uncle Edgar, she doesn’t understand,’ Fanny said anxiously.

  But Uncle Edgar suddenly wasn’t listening. He was staring at Nolly. He went towards her, and again put his fingers under her chin, lifting her face.

  ‘What are these gee-gaws you’re wearing, child? A bit mature for you, aren’t they?’ He was chuckling softly. ‘By jove, rings, too. Trust a woman to like jewellery. Let me look at the rings. Give them to me.’

  Nolly backed away sharply, her hands clutched together.

  ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘Come, child, I only want to look. I have no designs on your circus jewellery.’

  Nolly’s eyes blazed.

  ‘Don’t you dare touch them! They’re my Mamma’s!’

  Uncle Edgar’s colour had heightened, although he was still smiling.

  ‘Fanny, here’s a little girl who must be taught manners. We’re not going to indulge in anything so vulgar as a fight. Take her upstairs and send her to her room. The boy—’ But Marcus, sensing disaster, had dropped his lower lip, and was beginning to sob.

  ‘Oh dear, dear!’ said Uncle Edgar. ‘Our acquaintance is scarcely improving. Take the boy, too, Fanny.’ He pointed imperiously at the amah. ‘You stay.’

  ‘Uncle Edgar, Ching Mei—’

  ‘My dear Fanny, I haven’t been deaf. You’ve already explained several times that the woman doesn’t understand English. Leave me to judge that for myself. For heaven’s sake,’ he finished impatiently, ‘what is the boy crying about? He’s not going to be a cry baby, I hope?’

  ‘He was expecting to see your watch, Uncle Edgar.’

  ‘And he and his sister thought their behaviour deserved it? Oh, no, that must wait until another day.’

  At lunch Uncle Edgar had completely regained his good-temper. He spent some time describing a particularly memorable hunt in detail, and that reminded him of the horse he had promised George. When Amelia, with her modestly downcast eyes, said, ‘Papa, if George is to get a horse—’ he interrupted good-humouredly, ‘So you think you should get something, too.’

  ‘It’s only that I need so many things, Papa,’ Amelia said earnestly.

  ‘We all do, my dear. Or we all think we do. By the way, Fanny’—it was as if he had just noticed her—‘have you got your charges into a better frame of mind?’

  ‘My charges, Uncle Edgar?’ Fanny’s chin was up, her voice cool. She was still upset by the disastrous and disturbing morning.

  Uncle Edgar gave his vast chuckle, and went on pursuing his own amusing thoughts.

  ‘Little foreign devils, eh? The girl’s got spirit, though. Pity it isn’t the boy. He seems a bit of a namby pamby. By the way, Fanny, your aunt will be going through the trunks they brought. It seems there are private papers. I don’t want the servants touching anything.’

  ‘Did Ching Mei tell you?’ Fanny asked in astonishment. ‘But I didn’t think she could—’

  ‘Speak English? She certainly doesn’t have much of a vocabulary. But I contrived to understand her. Personally, I still think the woman is concealing her talents.’

  ‘She’s so strange and homesick,’ Fanny said impulsively. ‘Adam Marsh thought it would be very generous of you if you could send her back to China.’

  ‘And who is Adam Marsh?’ Uncle Edgar asked, with interest.

  ‘Why, the gentleman from the shipping company. He was very kind and understanding.’

  ‘And couldn’t mind his own business?’

  ‘Oh, he didn’t mean it like that. He was just concerned about her.’

  ‘And does he think an English household offers deadly peril? Are we going to return the woman to her loving family, finger by finger?’

  Amelia shrieked in horror. Uncle Edgar explained expansively, ‘
A charming little custom Chinese bandits have, I believe. Now, don’t you worry, Fanny. Ching Mei is perfectly safe in our hands. When she leaves is for me to decide,’ there was the smallest hardening in his voice, ‘no one else.’

  She had been put in her place once more. That was obvious by Aunt Louisa’s attitude when she came up to investigate the trunks.

  ‘Take the children out in the garden, Fanny. I don’t want a lot of noise and interruption. By the way, I see you have decided to change your room.’

  ‘Yes, Aunt Louisa. If that’s convenient.’

  ‘Isn’t it a little late to ask now that Dora has moved your things? I might say that room was one of the larger guest rooms.’

  ‘But surely you wouldn’t want to put guests next to the nursery, Aunt Louisa.’

  ‘That wasn’t the point I was making,’ Aunt Louisa said crossly. Her nose had taken on the grape bloom tinge that it did when she was excited or upset. She was already crouched over the battered trunks, like a great over-blown dahlia in her dark red full-skirted dress. Aunt Louisa had a tendency towards flamboyance in her dressing. The next thing, she would be wearing the green earrings in their ornate gold setting, provided, of course, it could be proved that the stones were semi-precious, at least.

  ‘I merely meant,’ she went on, ‘that you might have had the courtesy to consult me about your new arrangements.’

  ‘But I thought it was taken for granted the children would be my responsibility.’

  Aunt Louisa recognised the familiar glint of rebellion in Fanny’s eyes. One never knew what the wretched girl was thinking. And the exasperating thing was that she looked prettier than ever when she was indulging in one of her difficult moods.

  ‘Naturally, Mr Davenport and I think it very suitable that you should take an interest in the children. And I agree that sleeping near them is an advantage. But you should have asked. I really think the trust Mr Davenport placed in you by sending you to London has gone to your head. You must try to quell those domineering tendencies in your nature. They’re not becoming to a young woman.’

  ‘What are you going to do with those things?’ Fanny asked, her voice no less aggressive.

  Aunt Louisa was about to make a sharp rejoinder, but her attention was diverted to the heaps of clothing, tossed about untidily after the children’s wild scramble through the trunks that morning. She frowned in distaste and perplexity.

  ‘Burn most of it, I should think. It’s probably full of germs.’

  ‘What if any of the things should be valuable?’

  ‘If you’re thinking of that barbaric jewellery Nolly was wearing, if any of it is of any value, which is most unlikely, considering the impecunious habits of my wretched brother-in-law, it will be put away safely in the bank until the children are of age. Does that satisfy you, miss? Why do you imagine I choose to do this tedious task rather than allow the servants to?’

  Fanny resolutely dismissed her vague and unfair suspicions.

  ‘I’m sorry, Aunt Louisa, I shouldn’t have spoken like that.’

  ‘Speaking hastily is another of your faults. How many times have I told you that? But we’ll say no more, except that even though your uncle and I are trusting you with further responsibilities, we will expect you to still have time for your usual duties. I’m sure I wouldn’t care to face either my mother or Amelia if you neglected them. Now what, I wonder, is this meant to be?’

  She was holding up a garment of Oriental silk made in no identifiable shape.

  ‘Isn’t it a cheongsam, Aunt Louisa? The dress that Chinese ladies wear.’

  ‘So tight,’ murmured Aunt Louisa. ‘And a split in the skirt. Surely that woman didn’t wear anything so indecent. But I suppose one could expect anything—Well, what are you standing there for, Fanny? I asked you to take the children in the garden. And remember that you’re a very fortunate young woman. Boredom, you know can be worse than unhappiness. That’s why we must get that idle daughter of mine married as soon as possible.’

  Out in the garden Fanny had no envy of Amelia’s idleness. It was a cool windy afternoon, with racing cloud shadows and flashes of brilliance from the distant lake when the sun shone out. The peacock was spreading his tail on the lawn against the copper beech, as if he had deliberately planned the rich gleaming backdrop. His mate was picking in the grass near him, ignoring his splendour. But he had an enraptured audience in Nolly and Marcus and the little amah.

  Old William, the head gardener, came up and touched his cap, giving a sideways look at the Chinese woman. He said that there were some ripe strawberries in the kitchen garden if the little ones would care for one or two.

  After that they went down to the pagoda by the lake. Nolly, her mouth smeared with strawberry juice, was suddenly a natural little girl, excited and happy. She ran happily round the pagoda, wanting to know what the table and chairs were for, and the bamboo screens.

  Fanny explained that if they brought tea down to the lakeside and it began to rain, as it often did, they moved into the shelter of the pagoda.

  ‘Can we have a picnic?’ Nolly cried. ‘Ching Mei, wouldn’t it be nice if we hung the windbells up here. See, the wind comes in everywhere. They’d ring all the time.’

  ‘Windbells?’ said Fanny. ‘But how charming. We’ll do that tomorrow.’

  Marcus wanted to put his feet in the lake. Where the water-lilies grew thickly he thought it safe to walk.

  ‘No, no!’ Fanny cried. ‘Only birds can walk on the leaves. You must never try to do that. You’d fall in and drown.’

  ‘Drown?’ said Marcus, lifting his dreamy harebell eyes to Fanny.

  ‘The water would go down your throat and choke you,’ said Nolly brutally. ‘Did you ever drown, Cousin Fanny?’

  Ever since that long afternoon the lake had given Fanny a cool feeling of distaste. It was so smooth, so glassy. When the sun shone on it it looked inviting enough. But she had never gone in the boat since without a shamed feeling of apprehension. She would never forget Uncle Edgar’s hands round her throat, dragging her out. And somewhere someone screaming. It had been one of the servants on the bank. The silly woman had had an attack of the vapours, and Uncle Edgar had been angry, because she should have whisked Fanny up to the house for a hot bath and dry clothes. Instead, Aunt Louisa had had to take her. And besides having been frightened to death, Fanny was made to realise that she had spoiled everyone’s afternoon. How clumsy to fall out of a boat! Other people could reach for a water-lily without falling overboard.

  Even the creamy water-lilies had been distasteful since that day.

  The peacock screamed harshly, and Nolly flew to Fanny.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘Only the peacock. You must get used to strange noises. There are other birds that come to the lake, and they all have different voices.’

  ‘Fanny! Fanny!’ That was George standing on the slope of the lawn calling imperiously. ‘Come here. I want to see you.’

  A child holding each hand, Fanny walked slowly and reluctantly towards him. At the same time a window opened upstairs and Lady Arabella’s white-capped head was thrust out.

  ‘Fanny, is that you?’ Her husky voice was quite audible across the garden. ‘No one has had the courtesy to bring the children to see me. Send them up at once.’

  ‘Who’s that?’ Nolly said, shrinking against Fanny.

  ‘Your great-aunt Arabella. You must visit her for a few minutes. Dora will take you.’

  ‘She looks like a witch.’

  Marcus’s eyes had grown enormous. Fanny said sharply, ‘Are you frightened, Nolly?’

  ‘Frightened?’ said Nolly, with contempt. ‘Me?’

  ‘Then don’t frighten your brother. Witches, indeed! Ching Mei, ask Dora to take the children to Lady Arabella. Lady Arabella. Do you understand?’

  Ching Mei bowed. Marcus’s hand dragged at Fanny’s.

  ‘Great-aunt Arabella has sugar plums,’ Fanny murmured. ‘Run along and see.’

  She watched
them go. Already she had this absurd feeling that she shouldn’t let them out of her sight. Why ever should she feel like that? The lake, and the vivid memory of her near-drowning had upset her.

  George strolled towards her, scowling.

  ‘Am I never to see you now without those brats?’

  ‘George! Don’t speak of your cousins like that.’

  ‘Isn’t it true? They’ve been at your heels ever since you brought them home. And Mamma’s quite content to make a servant of you. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘I love the children already,’ Fanny murmured, uneasy beneath his intense regard. The little frown was on his forehead. His brown eyes were too bright, almost as if with a fever.

  ‘Come for a walk. Let’s go through the woodland on the other side of the lake.’

  ‘Not now, George.’

  ‘But you never will. I scarcely see you. You’re so pretty, Fanny. I’d like to—’ His fingers were at the neck of her dress.

  ‘George!’ she started back. ‘Please don’t touch me!’

  He was immediately contrite. Now his eyes were dull. He suddenly looked years younger, an overgrown schoolboy.

  ‘I’m sorry. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. But Amelia said you were behaving as if you had fallen in love on your trip to London.’

  ‘Amelia is teasing you,’ Fanny said indignantly.

  ‘Yes. Yes, I thought she was.’ George passed his hand across his brow. ‘You must only love me, Fanny. I won’t let—won’t let—’

  ‘George, dear, isn’t it time for your rest? You know the doctor said you must rest every afternoon.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it is. I get this headache. Let me walk in beside you, Fanny. I promise not to touch you. But don’t let those brats take all your time. If they do—’

  ‘What will happen?’ Fanny asked, smiling.

  ‘You know how I got this wound? That Cossack was swinging his sabre, like a devil. But I could use a sword. I still can. My sword arm isn’t hurt. I used to be the best swordsman in the regiment, did you know? You’re so pretty, Fanny. None of the girls at the regimental balls could hold a candle to you.’