Treated as Murder

by Noreen Wainwright

  He nodded, and very awkwardly, reached across and patted the back of her hand.

  “Anyway, I wasn’t expecting you today. Is anything the matter?”

  “Actually, there is. Don’t look so worried, nothing is wrong, as such. There’s something a bit mysterious that you might be able to cast some light on.”

  “That sounds intriguing,”

  “I don’t know about intriguing, but it’s got aunt Alicia worried. You know her housekeeper, companion, the woman who used to work for Elizabeth Butler?”

  Edith nodded. That woman—she knew there was something…

  “Well, she had a few days holiday, all arranged, all above board and everything. But she was meant to return yesterday and she hasn’t. Aunt Alicia rang me this morning, not worried, exactly, but definitely concerned.”

  “There could be lots of reasons though, a missed train, all sorts…”

  Archie shrugged. “Of course, but with what happened with Mrs. Butler and these letters and Braithwaite taking off, not to mention Prudence Sowerby…”

  “Well, I can tell you one thing, Archie, Prudence is back—she came back a couple of nights ago, knocked on the vicarage door as Henry and I were about to have supper together. She looked in a bit of a state, but she isn’t missing.”

  “Well, that’s something, I suppose. Josh Braithwaite hasn’t resurfaced though. It’s very difficult to know whether Mrs. B. is relieved or not. By the way, she’s anxious to visit you again. I told her she needs to come soon or you’ll beat her to it—be discharged home, I mean.”

  Edith smiled, but she was preoccupied. There was something about Esther Kirk and Josh Braithwaite disappearing together that was disconcerting, like it rang a bell somewhere in her mind, but it was too vague to refer to it. Maybe if she threw out an innocent comment?

  “They worked together at Mrs. Butler’s didn’t they? Esther Kirk and Joshua Braithwaite I mean?”

  “Yes, I suppose they did, but I wouldn’t think they had a lot to do with each other. Braithwaite was on the outside looking in, in that house. Did the odd bit of heavy work and driving. I rarely saw him. Esther was a different kettle of fish.”

  “I see what you mean,” said Edith. But, she was far from sure. After all, Archie wasn’t there all the time, wasn’t privy to what might have gone on in the kitchen, or anywhere else behind the scenes.”

  “No, that’s ridiculous,” continued Archie, his mind jumping several steps ahead.” “I mean Esther, not being unkind, but well…and our Mrs. Braithwaite is actually quite a looker in her way…”

  Edith nodded in agreement, but Archie was being too male in the way he was looking at this, being too simplistic. Attraction was a complex matter. Joshua Braithwaite struck her as the type of man who would need a woman to be in awe of him, admiring, treating him as a hero. Hannah would have long passed that stage.

  * * *

  “I think if we help you, help you get a job, settle you down right, you would be capable of leaving here, maybe in the not too distant future. How do you feel about that?”

  How did she feel about it? There weren’t words in her vocabulary to describe how she felt. Terrified? Excited? They were as near as she could come.

  Dr. Willis had not proved to be the new broom who got bored. It turned out he believed in what he said—he was probably a man well ahead of his years. He saw something in the place, in some of the patients that struck him as a waste and set about doing something about it.

  It was risky. She wondered if he realised how risky. Something could easily go wrong in his endeavours to progress and there would be enough people in this hospital who would jump at it and use it as a reason to prove they knew best, that their way was the right way and locking up and throwing away the key was the answer.

  “I’d like that,” she said.

  * * *

  They had a ridiculous argument about whether they should sit or stand.

  “Please sit down, Helena, dear. You’re not making it any easier.”

  “Making what easier for heaven’s sake, mother, dad? What on earth is all this about? Anyway, I feel like standing.”

  Dorothea sighed. She could slap the girl. “Your father wants to sit down, so please do this small thing for us.”

  Helena went to the armchair opposite where her father was standing by the fireplace and sat down.

  Thank goodness. She caught a glimpse of something in her daughter’s face that gave her pause. Maybe Helena’s obtuseness and immaturity was masking something. Maybe she was terrified, as well she might be, because what they were about to tell her was going to change her world as she had always known it.

  She and Arthur had agreed she would do the talking, though he had been reluctant to pass the burden to her. She had eventually persuaded him this was the better course.

  “We made mistakes when we were young, Helena and maybe that’s the reason I worry about you, though I know you cannot live anyone else’s life for them.”

  “Oh, so all this is just going to be another lecture about my style of life and my friends, for goodness’ sake, mother.” She started to get up.

  “It isn’t. Stay where you are, please, Helena.” She looked across at her husband, who looked back at her and gave her a sad, tiny smile. He’s changed. It was if something inside him had wound back several reels and she was looking at the man he had once been. But, there was no time now to wonder at that.

  “When daddy and I first married, it was difficult for us in many ways. Your grandparents were still here, reluctant to move, but our hands were still tied as to what we could do. Grandfather was insistent that your father be involved in the running of everything. It was just that they weren’t quite ready to step down, either.”

  Helena shifted in her chair. Dorothea could see her eyes glancing about the room and could tell that she was losing interest—this was all old hat to her, and a sustained ability to concentrate was not Helena’s strong suit. She sighed.

  “Anyway, it all changed very abruptly when grandfather died quite suddenly. Then we moved in here and grandmother—well you remember where she moved, into the lodge. Your father and I moved in here and for a while, well, let’s say, we lived the high life.”

  Helen’s head jerked around and Dorothea saw that she had her full attention now.

  She smiled. “Yes, we weren’t always the old fogeys you see before you.” She stopped smiling. This wasn’t funny, and it seemed very important Helena should realise that.

  “There were weekend parties, plenty drinking, riding, dancing—all quite hedonistic, looking back on it now. We had no children yet, money wasn’t an impediment, and we were young. I suppose we thought we were invincible…”

  “Dorothea,” her husband looked at her, stricken, obviously finding it a struggle to maintain the agreed silence.

  “Arthur, it’s all right. I’m fine. We agreed that I would tell the story.”

  “Helena, I want you to know that both of us behaved badly, irresponsibly. It wasn’t just your father. But it was his behaviour that had the most serious consequences.”

  “Mummy, I’m not sure I want to hear the rest of this”

  Helena had reverted to childhood, all signs of the sophisticated woman about town, vanished.

  “I’m not going to stop now. Anyway, it wasn’t so awful. We had a parlour maid working here at the time—a very good-looking girl. Your father had a short-lived liaison with her and she became pregnant.” Dorothea looked at her husband first, whose eyes were cast down and then at Helena who had a hand up to her mouth.

  “You could say that all the hedonistic behaviour came back to haunt us with a vengeance. Because when it came right down to it, we weren’t that sort of people, who could laugh off these types of consequence and quietly deal with them, hush them up and then carry on as normal. We were in a terrible state I was very hurt, maybe more so, because at that point we hadn’t yet had a child of our own. Your father, and he won’t mind me speaking for him on this occasion
, was guilt-ridden and devastated at the harm he caused to the young woman and the hurt he caused to me. We both learned the hard way that this sort of “fun” has a very heavy price.”

  “God,” said Helena, who looked at her father, with a look more of shock than anger.

  “The girl was very upset. There was no chance of her family being of any help. Indeed, it was of the first importance the pregnancy be kept from them. We talked at length with her. By then, I knew. Your father told me.

  In the end, we sent the girl to stay with Sarann, your father’s old nanny, who’d retired down south. Sarann was a loyal woman, a friend really and she was privy to the whole story.”

  “I can’t believe all this has been kept from me, all this time. What happened to the baby?” Helena was upset, on the verge of tears.

  “I’m so sorry darling, for causing you this upset.” Arthur wasn’t able to desist from interjecting, any longer.

  Helena didn’t acknowledge his comment beyond giving him a quick glance and then looking back at her mother.

  “We kept in touch as much as we could. It all went well, the baby was born, and Sarann and the girl seemed to get along well. The plans were very tentative. All would depend on what the girl wanted to do.”

  “You keep referring to her as ‘the girl’ mother. What was her name? Surely she deserves to be called by her name.”

  “I don’t want to say her name, for now, Helena. Please try to be understanding. This is all very difficult; just let me tell you the story in my own way for now.”

  “All right.”

  It might not have been said very graciously, but Dorothea realised that this was as much of a concession as she was going to get. “But it didn’t continue to go well. We had discussed that maybe the baby’s mother could get a job somewhere, not with a friend of ours, but maybe through a connection. She was a good worker. We thought that maybe passing off as a widow with a child…”

  “Such hypocrisy, pass it all off, brush it all under the carpet. Sickening.” Helena’s voice was full of righteous indignation.

  Dorothea kept a rein on her temper. What it was to be able to be so judgemental. Though, this was a horrid shock for their daughter and she certainly hadn’t had enough time to come to terms with it.

  “We did what seemed to be the best. We weren’t overwhelmed with alternatives. Those were unforgiving times, Helena. Don’t forget that the war swept away a lot of the Victorian attitudes to this sort of situation. Anyway, six weeks after the baby’s birth, the girl suffered a severe mental breakdown. Really bad. She attempted to take her own life and Sarann didn’t think she was safe alone with the baby. She loved him dearly, but also seemed fixed on the idea that because of their circumstances, the world was going to be particularly hard on them. Not completely a delusion. Bear in mind Sarann was also getting older and was finding it difficult to cope with all of this.”

  She paused, to try to gather her resources. “One thing played into our hands when we made our next decision. In those days, it wasn’t uncommon for a couple to take a long honeymoon—to travel on the continent quite often. Daddy and I had not gone on honeymoon at all because of grandfather’s earlier stroke, so no eyebrows were raised when we headed off, starting with a cruise.

  In the time we were away, we let it be known that I had given birth. That in fact, it had been quite a surprise to us as well. If anybody thought the baby was a trifle advanced, if was never commented upon. But, I don’t think anyone ever did. Luckily, Charles had been quite a tiny baby, three weeks or so premature.”

  “Charles, our Charles, my brother, Charles? What are you saying? That Charles is not my brother?”

  “Calm down, Helena. Becoming hysterical won’t change anything. He is your brother. The difference being that I didn’t give birth to him. I did come to love him, though. How could I not?”

  “But, how on earth did you agree to such a thing, mother, taking dad’s…”

  “Careful, Helena,” Dorothea said. She sighed. “It is all such a long time ago. It is almost difficult to recall all the emotion. There were a lot of tears, a lot of agonising. But, besides all that, there was a baby without a home whose only other option was adoption, and there was a sick woman. Those were the stark choices. It wasn’t easy at first. But, it was the right thing to do. And sometimes doing the right thing brings its own reward. In this case, it certainly did. Then a couple of years later, Edward came along then you and, I suppose it all became normal. With the exception that there were no more boisterous weekend parties at the house. We both valued what we had far too much to jeopardise it ever again.

  “Mother,” Helena’s voice was arresting, filled with apprehension.

  “Why are you telling me this story now?”

  Arthur came to Dorothea’s side and took her hand in his.

  “Because Charles’ mother came back,” he said.

  Chapter 21

  “I’ll see you again in a week or so. I’ll get my secretary to send you an appointment immediately.”

  “I can’t believe it in a way, that you think I’m ready to go home. But, I suppose all these weekend passes have been leading to this point?”

  “Well, yes, but more to the point, I think you are ready. You’ve talked to your brother and seem surer about returning to your home. You asked my opinion and no, I don’t see the necessity for another weekend pass. You’re on a small amount of medication, which, in not too much time, we may decide to wean you off.”

  “I’m really longing to be discharged, Dr. Uxbridge, but I’m terribly anxious too.”

  “That’s natural, Edith. It would be unrealistic if you were not. But, you’ve told me a couple of things today that I feel augur well for the future. You’ve had a visit from the man who seems to have triggered this whole episode, and your brother seems to have a better understanding of what happened. Maybe you do, too?”

  Edith was still for a moment and then nodded. Things were a bit clearer. She’d still over-reacted to being deceived and rejected, but she hadn’t invented the whole thing. She may have lost her grip on reality for a while, but as a result rather than a cause of things going wrong. That made a subtle but significant difference to the way she perceived things.

  “I say this lightly, but it’s important to say it—if you ever needed to, you could come back. We don’t lock people up and throw the key away, well not very often. The trouble can be the longer you say in a place like this—and incidentally, the word ‘asylum’ has some positive connotations, also, you know—the more frightening the world outside can seem.”

  Edith knew exactly what he meant and her biggest fear was it would be too frightening, and people would always look at her in a particular way. Well, that was almost a given, but how would it make her feel, and how would she deal with those feelings? In the back of her mind, the possibility of leaving Ellbeck still hovered, a sort of insurance policy.

  “I think being able to continue seeing you will help,” she said. If she went elsewhere, what were the chances of ever meeting a psychiatrist like him? Maybe that was enough reason, in itself, to stay where she was, for the time being.

  * * *

  They produced her old suitcase, which they had stored away somewhere for the past almost two decades. The very sight of it made her stomach clench and cramp. For a while, she was afraid she wasn’t going to be able to leave after all and she was going to have to turn down this unexpected chance that Dr. Willis was giving her.

  It would not come again, she was quite sure of that. There were already rumours Dr. Willis had his sights set on a new post somewhere else—in London, probably, the rumours had it, where he wouldn’t be so held back by traditionalists. But, he had taken her up, it seemed, asking her a lot about her earlier life. She could almost see his brain ticking over. Why was she still institutionalised? Couldn’t she serve as a good example of how a long-standing mental patient could survive in the world?

  “We won’t abandon you,” he said. They would fix her up
with a place to stay and a job—nothing too demanding, with people who would know and understand enough about her background.

  But, it came down to the moment—the walking out through the huge gates, away from the only world that had touched her for almost two decades. She told herself she wouldn’t look back, but she did glance just once more over her shoulder at the grand entrance and the clock tower of the mental hospital.

  * * *

  “I don’t know what you think you’re playing at—you’re going…you’re staying. You’re asking Bea if she wants to go to London, for God’s sake!”

  Giles had completely wrong-footed her. She was having a cup of tea before waking Bea for school, and didn’t even realise Giles was up. This was all so new. Her life had been upturned and she couldn’t find a new pattern just like that. She had to feel her way along this new route, like a suddenly blinded person in an unfamiliar corridor.

  She’d literally jumped when Giles had come into the kitchen. She’d been so immersed in her thoughts she hadn’t heard him come in. “I’m not playing at anything. I’ve only considered what would happen to Bea if I decide to go away for a while, that’s all. But, I…I want to try and keep things as normal as possible for her.

  He snorted, an ugly sound.

  “Normal. You tell the child you’re going to stay in London. You try and drag her with you, away from school, from home, pretending everything is normal, as you put it.”

  Julia’s heart pounded and her stomach roiled with nausea. She would not start arguing. Giles was already showing the unreasonableness she had always known him capable of.

  “I’m at a loss here, Giles. You somehow expect me to carry on as normal, but I can’t. You have a girlfriend, for God’s sake. You’ve betrayed me, our marriage, destroyed everything.”

  He laughed, loudly and incongruously. Then there was a moment’s silence, long enough for Julia to hear the ticking clock and the sound outside of one of the maids about her duties.