Estella’s gift was a blue sash which she no longer liked, and Adeline’s a bar of chocolate. No one else remembered it, but I did not care because I had my wonderful dress.
Then there occurred that event which was to shape the future for us all at Commonwood House. Mrs. Harley, the vicar’s wife, had a slight stroke and Miss Harley was unable to continue teaching us because she had to look after her mother. Estella was now ten years old and a new governess had to be engaged.
Uncle Toby would expect me to be educated with her and so I should share the new governess.
I often wondered what would have happened to me with out Uncle Toby. I knew it was solely due to his champion ship that I was allowed to partake of the crumbs which fell from the table of the rich.
As a consequence, the governess was engaged to teach us, and so Miss Kitty Carson came to Commonwood House.
When we heard that we were to have a governess, Estella and I shared mixed feelings. There was excitement and apprehension. We discussed her constantly between the time of her appointment and her arrival at Commonwood House.
What would she be like? She would be old and ugly, declared Estella.
She would have hairs on her chin like old Mrs. Cram in the village who, some people said, was a witch.
“She can’t be very old,” I protested.
“If she were, she’d be too old to teach.”
“She’ll give us hard sums and make us sit at the table until we finish them.”
“She might be all right.”
“Governesses never are. Nanny says they’re neither one thing nor the other. They don’t belong anywhere. Think they’re above the servants and they are not good enough for the others. They give themselves airs downstairs and crawl to the family. I’m going to hate her anyway. I shall be so horrid to her that she’ll go away.”
“You might wait and see what she’s like first.”
“I know,” said Estella. She had made up her mind.
On the day of the governess’s arrival, we were at an upstairs window, watching as the station fly brought her to the house. We gazed intently as she stepped out and made her way to the gate and up the path with Tom Fellows, who drove the fly, carrying her bags.
She was tall and slender. I noticed with relief that she was not in the least like old Mrs. Cram. In fact, she looked very pleasant-not exactly handsome, but with such a gentle and attractive expression that I thought she would be easy to get on with. She might have been in her late twenties. In fact, just what I thought a governess ought to be.
As soon as she entered the house, Estella and I left the window and crept to the top of the stairs. We saw that she was taken into Mrs. Marline’s room. The door was shut, so we could not hear what was said. Then Mrs. Marline’s bell rang and Nanny, who was hovering, went into the room.
She came out with the governess. Nanny was rather tight-lipped. She did not like the idea of a governess in the house. She might have felt she threatened her authority in some way, and I knew that she was preparing to find fault with Miss Kitty Carson.
We dodged back as they came upstairs and we hid in one of the rooms, leaving the door slightly open, so that we could hear.
“It’s this way,” said Nanny coldly; and then suddenly Dr. Marline appeared.
I peeped round the door and saw them as they were just passing.
The doctor smiled very pleasantly and said: “You must be Miss Carson?”
“Yes,” said the governess.
“Welcome to Commonwood House.”
“Thank you.”
“I hope you will be happy here. You haven’t met the girls yet, I suppose?”
“No,” she said.
“Nanny will send for them,” he told her.
Suppressing our giggles, Estella and I remained very quiet until they had passed on to the room which had been prepared for Miss Carson on the second floor. Then we came into the corridor and walked sedately up the stairs.
“Oh, here they are,” said Nanny Gilroy.
“And Adeline?” said the doctor.
“She will be in her room,” replied Nanny.
“Carmel, run up and bring her down.”
“But first. Miss Carson,” put in the doctor, ‘here are your two pupils, Estella and Carmel. “
She had a lovely smile which lighted her face into some thing like beauty.
“Hello,” she said easily.
“I do hope we shall get on well together. I feel sure we shall.” Her eyes rested on me. Estella might have been scowling slightly. I had taken an immediate liking to Miss Carson and I felt sure she had to me.
I went off to get Adeline. She was in her room, looking rather bewildered and frightened. I guessed she had heard Estella giving her version of what the new governess would be like.
I said: “You are to come and meet Miss Carson, Adeline. I think she is very nice. There is nothing frightening about her. I feel sure you are going to like her.”
Adeline was easily influenced one way or another. She brightened and looked relieved.
I was so pleased by the way in which Miss Carson greeted Adeline. She had obviously heard of her disabilities. She took both her hands and smiled warmly.
“I am sure you and I are going to get along very well, Adeline,” she said.
Adeline nodded cheerfully, and I noticed how pleased the doctor was looking.
“Well, we’ll leave you to unpack. Miss Carson,” said Nanny briskly.
“Then, as the doctor says, the girls can show you the schoolroom.”
“Say in half an hour?” said Miss Carson.
“Yes, they can come to you then. Would, you like a cup of tea? I will get Mrs. Barton to send one up to your room.”
“That would be very welcome, thank you,” said Miss Carson, and we left her then.
“I think she’s all right,” I said.
Estella’s eyes narrowed.
“There are such things as wolves in sheep’s clothing,” she said.
“She’s not a wolf,” cried Adeline.
“I like her.”
Estella put on a look of worldly impatience.
“It means she might not be what she seems,” she said darkly.
Estella was determined to resent her. She had not wanted a governess.
She would have liked to go away to school, where girls could have lots of fun. They slept in dormitories and had midnight feasts, and here we were with a silly old governess.
Adeline and I felt differently. Miss Carson knew exactly how to treat Adeline: she was very patient with her and instead of dreading lessons, Adeline looked forward to them. She was developing a slavish devotion to Miss Carson: she constantly contrived to be where the governess was, and when we went for walks, she insisted on holding Miss Carson’s hand and was happiest when she was near her.
Moreover, Miss Carson was high on my list of favourite people. She was warm-hearted and showed a particular kindness to those who most needed it. Adeline had quite blossomed since her arrival.
I knew the doctor was aware of this and it made him very happy. He now made a habit of coming in to listen to lessons and took far more interest in them than he had when Miss Harley was in control.
On one occasion, when I was in the garden. Miss Carson was there too and we sat together and talked. Miss Carson always seemed so interested in other people that it was easy to talk to her. I was able to explain how I had never felt like a member of the family except when Uncle Toby was there and the reason why was that I did not really belong. I explained how Tom Yardley had found me under the azalea bush.
“You see,” I said, ‘my mother didn’t want me, so she left me there.
Most mothers love their babies. “
“I am sure your mother loved you,” she said.
“I think she probably left you there because she loved you so much and wanted you to have a better life than she could give you. In Commonwood House, there would be people to look after you, to feed you well, to care for
you. And there was a doctor in the house too.”
I was surprised that my mother should have left me because she loved me. It was an idea which hadn’t occurred to me before.
“But I always felt they didn’t really want me,” I explained.
“Nanny thought I should have been sent to an orphanage or the workhouse. They might have sent me there, but for the doctor.”
“The doctor is a very good and understanding man.”
“Nanny thought I should go.”
“But the doctor kept you, so it is not important what Nanny thinks.
The point is that he wanted you to stay. “
“Sally told me all about it. She remembers it well. She had just come at that time. She said she was afraid they would send me away, for the doctor didn’t have much say in what was to be done. Mrs. Marline didn’t want me either, and she is the one who counts.”
“Well, the doctor had his way. He wanted you and that was what mattered. Your mother made a great sacrifice because she wanted the best for you, and you must not feel inferior in any way. You are going to show them all that you may have been found under that azalea bush, but you can do as well as any of them.”
“I will, I will,” I said. And I felt as I did when Uncle Toby was there.
And, like Adeline, I loved her.
Nanny did not like the governess, of course. She was prejudiced against her from the start. She did not like governesses in households interfering with the children, and she was not going to change her mind. They gave themselves airs; they had too high an opinion of them selves; they thought themselves ‘a cut above’ the servants. So even the gentle-mannered Miss Carson could do nothing right for her.
And, of course, Mrs. Barton was her staunch ally in this. Governesses were a nuisance. They had to have meals sent up to their rooms.
Couldn’t eat with the servants, and, of course, they were not acceptable in the family. In any case, what was the family now, with Her in her room, demanding this and that, and Him sitting there alone and not a man to take much notice of what was put before him, in any case. It was a funny set-up, if you asked Mrs. Barton and not helped by having a governess in the house.
Then there was always the overpowering presence of Mrs. Marline. The constant clanging of bells and the maids run off their feet.
“Grumble, grumble,” said Mrs. Barton.
“Morning, noon and night.”
“She’d find fault with the Angel Gabriel himself,” declared Nanny.
We used to hear the rumble of Mrs. Marline’s voice behind the closed doors when the doctor was with her. She was, of course, complaining.
On and on it went, and then there would be a brief pause. We knew then that the doctor was trying to placate her, speaking in his soft, gentle voice.
“Poor man,” said Sally.
“Worn out, that’s what he is. Nag, nag, nag, and between you and me and the gate post, he’d be better off without her. She’s going to be an invalid all her life … and her going on like that, well, he’ll be the first in the grave, if you ask me. And don’t you dare mention what I’ve said.”
I was sorry for the doctor. He was so gentle, and he looked very tired when he emerged from that room. He stayed in his own as much as he could, I was sure; and he seemed eager to get off to his surgery, and he stayed there longer than he did before, which I guessed was because he hated coming home to Mrs. Marline. As soon as he did come in, she would call out for him; and then the rumbling of the voices would begin.
Annie Logan continued to come in the mornings and evenings, and she always stayed for a chat and tea; then there would be a lot of whispering in the kitchen with Nanny and Mrs. Barton. I tried to listen when I could, and it all seemed to be about Her and Him.
I felt or perhaps I imagined I did afterwards that there was an uneasy tension in the house. Sometimes when Mrs. Marline had taken her pills because the pain was worse than usual, a stillness would descend on the house as though it were waiting for something to happen.
Then it would change again, and we would hear the wheelchair going from one room to another, or Tom Yardley or the doctor wheeling it into the garden. We would all avoid going there when the chair was there.
It was easy for me, because she had always ignored me. Not so for Estella, Henry and Adeline. She found continual fault with them, and particularly Adeline. She could not hide her contempt for the poor girl. She could not forget that she had borne a child who was not normal and, I imagined, she had always seen herself as a woman who achieved perfection in all she did.
Poor Adeline would invariably resort to tears as soon as she escaped from those sessions with her mother, for she dared not let her mother see them. It was pathetic to realize how she had to hold back her misery. But Miss Carson was always there when she emerged from that dreaded room. She knew exactly how to comfort her; and soon Adeline would forget her mother and accept Miss Carson’s assurances that all was well because she had her dear Miss Carson, who said she was quite clever after all.
In the summer, the gipsies came to the woods again.
One morning I awoke to find them there. They often came late at night and settled in the woods.
Their presence was always a source of excitement to me, I suppose because of my connection with them; and I should never forget my encounter with Rosie Perrin and Jake.
Soon we were seeing them around with their baskets of clothes pegs and sprays of dried heather and lavender.
“Buy a little posy for luck,” they said. They went round the houses in the neighbourhood and some of the girls went to Rosie Perrin and had their fortunes told.
She would look at their hands and tell them what the future held for them. It did not cost a great deal and Sally told me that, if you wanted to have a really big glimpse into the future, you could pay more and go into Rosie’s caravan where she had a crystal ball. That, said Sally, was the ‘re al thing’.
I could not resist watching them from the shelter of the trees, just as I had on that occasion when I had hurt my ankle. And one day, when I crouched there, looking at the bare-footed children and, among them, Rosie Perrin on the steps of her caravan, I heard footsteps behind me and I turned and saw Jake grinning at me.
“Hello, little girl,” he said.
“Taking a look at the gipsies?”
I didn’t know how to reply, so I said: “Weller yes.”
“You’ve got a fancy for us, I’d say. Not like the folk you’re accustomed to, are we?”
“No,” I replied frankly.
“Well, change is a fine thing. Don’t you agree?”
“Oh yes.”
“You remember me, don’t you?”
“Oh yes. You carried me back.”
“Ankle all right now?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Rosie took quite a shine to you.”
I was pleased.
“She was very nice to me,” I said.
“So you liked her, did you? Didn’t take against her because she was a gipsy and all that?”
“I liked her very much.”
“I’ll tell you something. She’d like it if you went to see her.”
“Would she?”
“You can bet on that.”
“She might not remember me. It was a long time ago.”
“Rosie remembers everything, so she’d remember you all right. Come along and say hello to her.”
He started towards the encampment and I followed. The children stopped in their play to stare at me, and Rosie Perrin cried out in pleasure when she saw me.
“Why! It’s little Miss Carmel! Come up, dearie. Well, who’d ‘a thought it!”
I mounted the steps of the caravan, followed by Jake, and stepped inside.
Rosie said: “Sit down, dearie. Well, well, it’s some time since you were here. How’s that ankle and the leg? All nice and healthy now? I knew it would be. Tell me all about it. How is it at the house now?
Still treat you all right, do t
hey? “
“Oh yes. We have a governess now.”
“That’s grand, that is. Is she good to you?”
“She is very nice and I like her a lot.”
She nodded.
“And what about the lady and the gentleman … doctor I beg his pardon?”
“She had a riding accident. She can’t walk. There’s a wheelchair and she’s in pain a lot of the time.”
“Poor soul. That little nurse goes there, don’t she … morning and evening. One of our little ‘uns fell over in the road. She came by on her bike and looked after the child. Did a good job and brought her back to us. She had a little chat with me.”
“That was Annie Logan. Yes, she comes in to help Mrs. Marline.”
“A bit of a tartar, that lady, eh?”
“Yes … I suppose so.”
“All right with you, is she?”
“She doesn’t notice me much. She never did. I think she doesn’t like to be reminded I’m there.”
“Well, that’s not such a bad thing, eh?” She nudged me and laughed. I laughed with her.
“As long as they treat you right.”
Jake slipped away and left us, and she went on to ask questions about the house and its inhabitants. I found myself telling her about Mrs. Marline’s rooms on the ground floor, the wheelchair, the bells that rang all the time, and how the servants grumbled and said there was no pleasing her.
Then I heard someone singing. It was a beautiful clear voice with a lilt in it.
“Three gipsies stood at the castle gate They sang so high, they sang so low, The lady sate in her chamber late Her heart it melted away like snow.”
I had stopped talking to listen.
“That’s Zingara,” said Rosie, and at that moment the door of the caravan opened and the most beautiful woman I had ever seen came in.
Creole earrings dangled from her ears and her thick, shining black hair was piled high on her head; her dark eyes sparkled and Rosie looked at her with great pride.
The Black Opal Page 5
