A Death Overseas

by Caroline Dunford

  ‘This is a most interesting topic,’ I responded, delighted that she had departed from her prattling manner. ‘But were does one draw the line?’

  ‘Ah, indeed, my dear. That is very question I must constantly ask myself. I have seen babies die for want of cleanliness and decent food, not simply because their mothers are poor, but because there were still parts of our last parish where the theory of germs had not been embraced. I cannot imagine that our good Lord would want such innocents to suffer and so I believe in medicine. We are not changing or challenging God’s work there, but treasuring it. But the main point of electricity that I see is to prolong daylight for – excuse me for saying this – night-time depravity, or for making poor men and women work when they should be asleep in their beds.’

  ‘I think I see your point,’ I agreed. ‘I cannot think of much more use for the concept.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Eugenie. ‘My dear, this is delightful. Do you think we might continue our discussion over a small slice of cake? I spy a small coffee shop over there. I know we will have dinner shortly at the hotel, but one never knows what one might be served when one is abroad, does one? I mean, cheese for breakfast! I do hope Mr Stapleford has had a word with them about that. I heard he too was far from happy.’

  Although she was trim of figure, I was beginning to suspect that Mrs Brown might have the same fondness for cake that Richenda had had before she was with child. I steered my chaperone towards a nice-looking establishment, pondering how one minute she talked with clarity and insight and yet the next was passing comment on the fashion of the hats of the ladies who passed us. An enigma indeed. I looked forward to knowing her better, as one does in reading a good book that reveals new surprises with each new chapter.

  Chapter Nine

  Invitation to an amazing spectacle

  Dinner at the hotel was something with the unappetising name of goulash. To my surprise, although having the outward appearance of a peasant stew, it was extremely tasty. Eugenie was slightly more wary, but we both agreed the apple strudel that followed it, accompanied by a thick unctuous cream, was delicious. We were seated in what served as a guest parlour sipping coffee and debating whether we should retire for the evening or wait for Bertram.

  ‘Goodness knows when he will be back,’ I said. ‘I half expected to find him at dinner ahead of us. He and his brother do not easily tolerate being in each other’s company. I was most surprised when he agreed to go to dinner.’

  Eugenie cast a look at the clock. ‘And yet it is becoming late and he is not returned. Might it be that his brother and he are going to – how would one say it? – make a night of it? Certainly, when he was younger my son was not averse to having a beer or two in the evenings. In a respectable tavern, of course.’ She paused. ‘Although now he is a student I shudder to think what he is up to. My dear husband once acknowledged to me that as a young student, before he embarked on a theological path, he and some friends once took great pleasure in spending a night hanging male underwear from as many statues as they could manage.’ She shook her head. ‘The male psyche will always remain a mystery to me.’

  ‘I know Bertram went to Oxford,’ I said, ‘but I cannot imagine him taking part in such pranks.[11] I think they are both well past the age of doing so anyway.’

  Eugenie gave a small laugh. ‘My dear,’ she said. ‘I do not believe men ever grow up. That is both their weakness and their charm.’

  I thought about Bertram’s simple joy in his new automobile and smiled. ‘However,’ said Eugenie, ‘I am something of an early riser. I do like a decent constitutional before breakfast, so I do not tend to stay up late.’

  ‘And I have managed to acquire a book about Canadian life and a guide to the Fair. I am eager to peruse both. Reading is a great solitary pleasure of mine, so I see no objection to us retiring. It is not as though Bertram asked us to wait up for him.’

  ‘Oh, he is too much of a gentleman to do so, but however companionably you have graciously treated me, I am a paid companion and would not want to be thought lacking in my duty.’

  I felt most uncomfortable hearing this and at once assured her that as a chaperone her only duty was to keep me company. I didn’t add I thought this an unnecessary provision and that I had often been on adventures with only Bertram and Rory. Eugenie might be a deep thinker, but generally no woman of her age could be so open-minded. Certainly my own mother, if she knew the half of what I had done, would lock me in a cellar until my wedding day!

  We had just agreed that our day was done, when Bertram burst into the parlour. His face was a shade ruddier than normal and there were small, but distinct, stains upon his shirt. ‘Wonderful!’ he cried. ‘You are both still awake. I knew you would be. I have tickets to the most amazing spectacular! Come, ladies, put on your hats! We must depart. I have a cab waiting!’

  ‘Good heavens, Mr Stapleford, are you quite well?’ asked Eugenie.

  I put it more bluntly. ‘Are you inebriated, Bertram?’

  ‘What a thing to ask a fellow! I have tickets to see the amazing display by Monsieur Gerard Toussaint! Why, he is said to rival even Herr Schiffer!’

  Bertram paused. ‘Why are you looking at me as if I have two heads?’ he enquired.

  ‘You seem a little excitable,’ murmured Eugenie.

  ‘Well, I suppose I might have had a trifle to drink with Richard, but these tickets,’ he pulled three cards from his pocket and waved them in the air, ‘are the real deal. I am very lucky to have got them. I knew you’d be interested in the latest things, Euphemia. Besides, it will be pretty, ladies! Lighting up the night!’

  ‘Oh, is this an electrical lighting display?’ I said, realisation dawning.

  ‘Ya-yes,’ said Bertram, as if I was the stupidest woman ever to walk the earth.[12] ‘Would you like to come with me, ladies?’

  I looked at Eugenie. Bertram did know me well. Although I was wary of the new lighting source, I was also curious about it and would have welcomed an explanation by a scientist who could ally my fears and expound upon its potential. Besides, Bertram had said it would be pretty and I was keen to see how the Fair looked when the electric lamps were lit around the park. Would it be as romantic as the old gas lamps or glaring and harsh? But Eugenie’s face had become a mask of distaste.

  ‘I am afraid I must decline, Mr Stapleford. Dear Euphemia is aware of my feelings towards the new electricity and will understand. Indeed we had just agreed to retire when you arrived.’ She nodded her head at me. ‘I am surprised you would consider asking a young lady of refinement to attend such an event. There has been much discussion on the effects of electricity upon the female form. Euphemia cannot possibly attend.’

  At this moment, Euphemia was sure she most definitely did want to attend. There is nothing like opposition to get my blood boiling. Bertram looked from one to the other of us. ‘Indeed, I am sorry to hear this,’ he said, barely slurring his words. ‘But as Miss St John’s chaperone you must naturally have the last say.’

  Eugenie acknowledged him with a brief nod and rose to exit the room. ‘Please go ahead,’ I said. ‘I will be up immediately, but I have one matter to discuss with Mr Stapleford first.’

  I sighed as she dallied. ‘Eugenie, it is a public room. My virtue is perfectly safe.’

  ‘The last words of many an incautious woman, but I trust you to be wise, my dear.’

  And with that she left the room. Bertram and I waited until we heard her footsteps on the stairs up to the upper floor and finally the distant closing of a door.

  ‘I don’t care if this shocks you, Bertram,’ I said. ‘Or if it enervates my internal organs, but I am coming with you!’

  ‘Of course you are,’ said Bertram. ‘I was only agreeing so I didn’t have to argue with that old bat. I didn’t realised she was the overly religious sort or I’d never have left you alone with her, Euphemia. Poor you. Is she quite unhinged?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, on many points she is extremely well-informed and reasonab
le, but then suddenly she will either start prattling or talking about man’s ungodly ways. I wonder if her bereavement is of recent date and this is a sign of grief?’

  ‘More likely a sign of her age. Middle-aged women do tend to go a little ... doolally for a bit. Something about their offspring having flown the coop, I imagine. Anyway, let’s go and round up Rory. No point letting a ticket go to waste. I know he will appreciate the spectacle. And you go and get a big hat, so no one will recognise the wanton woman escorted by two men.’

  ‘Honestly, Bertram! People might assume I was your wife!’

  ‘Ha!’ said Bertram, guffawing. ‘Like old Brown has assumed you are a lady of refinement.’

  ‘I shall get my hat,’ I said, dignified, and rose to leave.

  ‘Oh hell,’ said Bertram. ‘Don’t go all huffy on me. You know as well as I do when we first met you were a maid in my brother’s house. I don’t say you haven’t improved yourself beyond measure, but...’

  I did not stay to hear any more. Bertram was the most dreadful class snob. I hated to think how he would change towards me if he should ever learn I was the granddaughter of an Earl. It was fear of this that had prevented me from telling him. If he should ever reanimate his affections towards me, or even merely acknowledge our deep friendship, I wanted it to be before he learned of my status, so that I could know his feelings were directed at myself and not my class. I do realise this reflects a lack of faith in Bertram’s principles.

  Nevertheless I found a dull brown hat with a large floppy brim and pinned it to my ample hair. I made my way to the front door and found Bertram there, practically hopping from foot to foot. ‘Get in,’ he cried, holding open the door of the hansom cab, ‘or we will be late.’ He handed me up and jumped in beside me, rocking the carriage, so that I sat down with a heavy thud. Beside me I heard the sound of Rory’s laughter.

  ‘My master is terribly excited about this exhibit.’

  ‘Is it not some kind of a show?’ I asked.

  ‘A demonstration, I believe,’ said Rory. ‘An advance based on Mr Tesla’s discoveries, and as the last thing I read was about his belief that saturating a room in low level frequencies could improve both intelligence and health, I am looking forward to being changed for the positive by this evening.’

  Bertram gave a bark of laughter. ‘For the positive,’ he repeated.

  ‘I thought we were going to see a light show?’

  ‘I suspect it will be more than that,’ said Rory. ‘I had heard about tonight’s exhibit and attempted to get tickets, but to no avail.’

  ‘Richard gave ’em to me,’ said Bertram.

  ‘Richard,’ I said. ‘Good heavens. Is this evening likely to be dangerous?’

  ‘’Course not!’ said Bertram. ‘This is 1913, and the World Fair to boot. They’re not going to do anything dangerous here.’

  ‘You are the last person standing between him and Stapleford Hall. It’s the first of the two of you to have a legitimate heir that gets it. Richenda has abdicated her chance.’

  ‘Oh, he’ll have Lucinda pregnant quickly enough. From what he said to me, he hardly ever lets the girl off her back.’

  ‘Bertram!’ said Rory and I as one.

  Bertram slunk down in his seat. ‘Sorry, Euphemia. Definitely one too many glasses tonight. Old tongue not quite as respectful as it should be.’

  ‘Not indeed,’ I said. ‘Even before a maid.’

  ‘Oh, you’re not going to start that again, are you?’ whined Bertram.

  ‘Whatever Mr Stapleford might want,’ interrupted Rory in a stern voice, ‘I seriously doubt even he can arrange for us all to be incinerated at an electricity exhibit.’

  ‘Can electricity incinerate you?’ asked Bertram. ‘Maybe we should...’

  But at this moment the horse stopped and the driver sprung down and opened the door.

  ‘We appear to be here,’ said Rory. ‘Shall we go in?’

  Chapter Ten

  A charismatic man

  The carriage had stopped at the original entrance to the Fair we had passed through this morning. Bertram waved our tickets around and we moved quickly through the lovely building – which I could still hardly believe was not made of stone – into the area of the Fair itself. The electrical lights atop their tall posts were all glowing. I had been right in thinking they would give a different light to the traditional gas lamp.

  Whereas gas lighting has a warm and friendly glow with a slightly yellowish tinge, the new lighting was a brilliant white. I am not convinced that each lamp shed as much light as one gas lamp, but the four grouped together gave a more than adequate illumination. The lamps were so frequent across the park that although it must have been near fully dark, it seemed as if the whole garden was merely in early twilight. And if one stood directly underneath a pole of lights and looked up, one was fairly dazzled.

  ‘I’d heard that sometimes the lighting things explode,’ said Bertram in my ear, ‘so I wouldn’t get too close.’ He must have seen the expression on my face. ‘Oh no, nothing serious. Just a little broken glass.’

  I felt less than reassured and began to give the electrical lights a wider berth. ‘I assume nothing will explode tonight?’ I asked. Bertram laughed and I had to wave my hands in front of my face. ‘Except your breath,’ I added, ‘if you get too near a fire. Whatever have you been drinking, Bertram?’

  ‘Local speciality Richard dug up,’ said Bertram, and touched the side of his nose secretively.

  ‘I don’t know how you can contemplate working with that man, after all we know of him,’ I said angrily.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Bertram airily. ‘He is my brother, and it’s not as if anything has ever been proved. And as for him murdering our old man – well, it’s not as if he was a very nice person, you know.’

  ‘Bertram,’ I said, shocked. ‘He was your father.’

  ‘Never particularly fatherly to me,’ remarked Bertram.

  ‘Might I suggest you both lower your voices,’ interjected Rory. ‘This should not be a matter of public debate.’

  ‘Of course, you’re right,’ I said, taking several deep breaths to calm myself. ‘It is only that I cannot believe Bertram would agree to work for him!’

  ‘You don’t understand everything,’ said Rory.

  Bertram was more forthright. ‘Needs must when the devil drives, old thing. Got to pay those contractors somehow.’

  ‘Can’t you see he is as liable to murder you for the inheritance of Stapleford Hall as he is to help you settle your bills!’ I said urgently. Although this time I did manage to keep my voice lower.

  Bertram gave a lopsided smile. ‘See, Rory, told you she still cares.’ Then he gave a little hiccough. ‘Nothing is settled yet. Let’s enjoy tonight.’

  ‘As long as it isn’t one of Richard’s plans to end us all,’ I said spitefully. The ‘she still cares’ bit had unaccountably stung me.

  ‘I believe there will be tea or sherry afterwards,’ said Rory. I sighed loudly. I needed Rory to back my theories if Bertram was to change his mind, and he was making it very plain that he was not going to discuss matters now.

  ‘I think I might enjoy a glass of port, if they have it,’ I said outrageously. ‘Mary swears by it.’

  As we ascended the steps to the florid French Pavilion were the display was taking place Rory commented, ‘That is a truly ghastly hat, Euphemia.’

  ‘I know. Richenda bought it for me.[13] The brim is wide enough for me to keep my face in shadow. Bertram was worried about my reputation.’

  ‘Could not people have simply assumed you were my wife?’ asked Rory.

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ I said.

  ‘Well, I damn well do,’ growled Bertram.

  Rory raised an eyebrow in challenge.

  ‘Come, let us find our seats,’ I said, linking arms with each of my escorts. ‘The Hall is filling up and it would be a shame to have come and not to get a good view.’

  ‘If we can understand a w
ord the Frenchman says,’ said Rory.

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

  ‘I had,’ said Bertram. ‘I'll translate for you if necessary. What?’ He asked as we both looked unbelievingly at him. ‘Have you forgotten Mama was a Frenchwoman? I speak French fluently.’

  ‘You never fail to surprise, sir,’ said Rory in a tone so subtle it left Bertram clearly unsure if he was being insulted or complimented.

  Then the lights dimmed in the room. I felt a frisson of excitement. I did not believe for a moment any of us were in any danger, but I was intrigued by the spectacle we were about to see. It would be certainly more entertaining than being back on the Muller estate listening to Richenda moaning about the servants.

  Around me, people whispered in excitement. We were seated amphitheatre-style with the demonstration area below us. We were about midway down the tier. In the gloom we heard the sounds of something heavy being wheeled in. A few moments later there was a crackling sound and tiny sparks ignited, like diamond stars. Then the sparks arced into lightning and sprung between two large semi-spheres that stood on columns. The air smelt strange as it does before a thunderstorm. The lightning crackled like spider webs, growing more and more in activity. Without thinking I grasped Rory’s hand and he squeezed it reassuringly. On the other side Bertram’s hand slid into mine.