The Alington Inheritance

by Patricia Wentworth

  Mrs. Forbes had turned to face her son. She looked him up and down with a cold piercing look and said,

  “You’re talking nonsense! There was no marriage!”

  Jenny heard the anger in her voice. Mac didn’t sound angry. He sounded like a person who had lived with something and got used to it, and for whom there are no surprises any more. He said,

  “Oh, my dear Mother, be your age! And we haven’t all day. They’ll be back in a moment, all the lot of them, and we’ve got to get this settled. There was a marriage, and I’m not asking you to take my word for it. I’ve seen the certificate.”

  “You’ve what?”

  “I’ve seen the certificate.”

  “You can’t have!”

  “I have. Will you get that firmly into your head! I’m not making this up-why should I? Now listen, because we may not have much time, and it’s urgent-very urgent. I had my suspicions. Garsty gave the show away rather. She said something, and then stumbled and picked herself up.”

  “Do you mean that she fell?”

  Jenny knew that voice. It was Mrs. Forbes fighting. She would fight to her last drop of blood for Mac. She heard it in her voice, and she heard the recognition of it in Mac’s laugh as he said,

  “I don’t mean anything of the sort, as you know perfectly well. And don’t talk! Listen to what I’ve got to say! The Thursday before she died Garsty and Jenny went to Camingford. I knew they were going, and I came down. I let myself into the cottage.”

  Mrs. Forbes said,

  “How?”

  Mac laughed,

  “Never you mind! I did, and I went over the whole place till I found what I was looking for.”

  Mrs. Forbes’ voice had changed-Jenny knew that. It was still steady, but it wasn’t the same. There was something strained about it, something unnatural. She said,

  “What did you find?”

  “I found a letter from Richard Forbes to Jennifer Hill. It must have been the last letter he wrote her. He called her his wife.”

  Mrs. Forbes came in quickly.

  “There’s nothing in that.”

  “My dear Mother, I’m not a child, but there was enough to make me, shall we say, a little anxious. Anyhow I went up to Somerset House and -well, you can guess.”

  “I’m not guessing. If you’ve got anything to say, say it!”

  “I’ve got this to say.” His tone was still a smiling one.

  Jenny knew just how he looked-the fair hair, the blue eyes, the height, the strength, the everything. A little giddiness came over her. No, no, not now-not when she had to hear. She had to. She pressed the nails of her left hand into the palm of her right, and the pain got through the faintness. She heard what Mac said. She heard it quite distinctly and past any possibility of a mistake. He said,

  “They were married in January 1940, five months before he was killed.”

  “I don’t believe it!”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  “I tell you I’ve seen the certificate.”

  “Then why didn’t she say?”

  Mac shrugged again.

  “You’ve forgotten. She was knocked on the head in an air raid the same night that he was killed. A splinter from a shell got her. Garsty told me all about it once. She must have told you, too.”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “Well, there you are. They thought she’d get her senses back when Jenny was born, but she didn’t-she just died.” There was a long pause.

  Jenny’s head cleared. What were they going to do about it? She hoped very much that she knew. She was afraid that she didn’t know. If Alington was hers she would give it to them, oh, so gladly. If Alington was hers… She didn’t know what she felt. She didn’t know. She heard Mrs. Forbes say suddenly, quite loud and clear,

  “This is all nonsense!”

  And Mac laughed and said,

  “It’s going to be very dangerous nonsense for us unless we do something about it.”

  “What can we do?”

  “Oh, it’s quite simple. I can marry her.”

  “No-no-”

  “Don’t be silly, Mother. It’s the one perfect way out.”

  “I won’t have it!”

  “I said don’t be silly. You don’t suppose I want to marry the girl, do you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He laughed.

  “Oh, come! I shouldn’t have thought of it if it hadn’t been for this! But you must see that it’s the perfect way out.”

  “I don’t see anything of the sort!”

  “Oh, come, you’re not stupid. And you needn’t pretend with me. We’re two of a kind, and you know it. I’m not Alan. And you don’t have to pretend-not with me. I quite agree with having a little, shall we say, camouflage in the ordinary way. But just now, as things are, just between ourselves and for this once, let’s be straight about it.”

  Mrs. Forbes said,

  “What do you want to say?”

  “This. I’ve had time to think about it, and you haven’t. There’s only one way out-that’s the way I said. I marry her, and we hold our tongues. If she ever finds out, well it’s just too bad, but there’s nothing to be done about it. We didn’t know, and she didn’t know. And once we’re married it doesn’t really matter. I shall be the noble cousin who married her when she was an illegitimate poor relation.”

  Mrs. Forbes said, “Don’t!” and Mac laughed and said, “Why not?”

  Jenny couldn’t see them, but they saw each other, and for the moment what Mrs. Forbes saw shocked her. It was one thing to suspect and to put the suspicion from your mind, and another to see the plain truth naked before you. The thought of her husband came to her and she put it away with a sort of terror. She knew very well what his judgment would have been on her for her hesitation, and on Mac for his certainty. She had her moment of choice. She looked at the alternative-Jenny in her place, herself a widow with a limited income, Mac with his way to make-She got no farther than that. There was a rush of everything in her to protect herself, to protect Mac. She said in a lowered tone but very firmly,

  “No-no. I can’t do it.”

  Mac smiled.

  “You won’t find it so difficult.”

  “No-no, I don’t mean that. You’re right-you must marry her.”

  “Of course I’m right! I always am. And why? Because I’m a clear thinker. I don’t let my doings get diverted by morality. That’s the mistake always. You have to decide what’s best to do and leave the morality out of it.”

  Mrs. Forbes stared at him.

  “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that,” she said. “You’ll marry the girl and that will be doing well by her. And the best thing we can do is to forget this stupid story about a marriage which I don’t believe in and never shall.”

  Mac laughed. Jenny wondered as she heard him. It was such a gay laugh-gay and infectious.

  “Have it your own way,” he said.

  And with that there came the sound of children’s voices and Alan speaking to them. The hall door opened and shut again. Mac took his mother by the arm.

  “Come along, we’ll go and meet them. We don’t want to be found here like conspirators, do we?”

  “Certainly not. Those children should be in bed. I never meant them to stay so late. That’ll be Jenny’s fault. She makes a game of everything.”

  They went out. Mrs. Forbes said, “Put out the light.” The door shut. Jenny heard their footsteps go away. The room was dark. She was alone.

  Chapter IX

  Jenny moved cautiously. She had to get out of the room before Carter came and the children. Where was she to go? Where could she hide? The answer came bleak and plain. She mustn’t hide. She must be just as usual. She must be where she would be expected to be. In her own room? No. Because Mrs. Forbes might have opened the door and looked in on her way to the schoolroom. Where, then? The bathroom. You could lock yourself in. She could wash her face and tidy her hair, and be ready for supper with the children.


  She felt better with the bathroom door securely locked, but when she looked in the glass her reflection shocked her. There was no colour in it, no colour at all. And she looked older. She sponged vigorously, and didn’t let herself think, and when she looked again she looked more as she usually did. Then as she stood there looking into the glass the colour faded and she was pale again.

  She came out of the bathroom, and met Carter and the children.

  “Oh, do you know, Jenny, Nurse has got a new kitten!” said Joyce.

  “It’s sweet!” said Meg. “It really is! Its name is Patrick! Its fur is as long as this!” She showed the length with her fingers. “And it purred at me! It didn’t purr at Joyce! She didn’t hold it comfortably, and she kissed it! Kittens don’t like being kissed!”

  “They do!” said Joyce. “They like it awfully!”

  “Then why didn’t Patrick purr for you? Oh, Jenny, I want a kitten so badly! Do you think Mother would let me have one?”

  Carter broke in.

  “Now Meg and Joyce, you come along and get your things off quick. The mistress isn’t best pleased with us being so late as it is. And it’s not the time to ask about cats and suchlike, I can tell you that.”

  She swept them into their bedroom and went on talking.

  “They won’t want anything. Such teas as they ate I never saw! Anyone would think they’d been starved all the week! I’ll take my own things off if you’ll see them to bed. And hurry, you two, or your mother will be coming up.”

  She vanished, and Jenny was left with the children, who under pressure from the last threat whisked them out of their clothes and into the bathroom and out again like mice running away from a particularly active cat. They were ready for bed, washed pink and spotless, by the time Mrs. Forbes came up the stairs. Jenny thought she looked a little disappointed, and she thought she knew why. She had had to swallow a bitter pill, and it would have been a relief to find a legitimate reason for anger. There was no reason at all. There were two little girls, miraculously clean and neat, kneeling one on either side of Jenny as she sat on the bed to hear their prayers.

  “Please God, bless Mother, and Mac, and Alan, and make me a good girl.”

  Joyce on the other side of Jenny repeated the same words,

  “And make me a good girl.”

  “And bless Nanny and Carter and everybody. And bless Jenny and Joyce. Amen.”

  And Joyce repeating it,

  “And bless Nanny and Carter and everybody. And bless Jenny and Meg. Amen.”

  Jenny felt as if her heart was breaking. She had her back to the door, and when it opened she did not see who came. She thought it must be Carter. It was a shock to hear Mrs. Forbes’ voice, and to turn round and see her standing in the doorway waiting for the prayers to be over. She spoke with her usual briskness.

  “Into bed with you both! Good-night, Meg-good-night, Joyce. Now, Jenny, you had better dine with us tonight. It will be company for the boys.”

  Jenny didn’t know what she felt like. She couldn’t do it-she couldn’t. That was her first thought as Mrs. Forbes kissed the two little girls and left the room, putting out the light as she went.

  Jenny stood for a moment in the darkened room. Then she kissed Meg and kissed Joyce and went out into the lighted passage, her mind full of the one thought. She couldn’t do it.

  Mrs. Forbes had not waited for her. She had gone into her own room across the passage and shut the door.

  Jenny went to her room. She couldn’t do it. But she must. She had got to get away. If they knew, they would stop her. She had got to get away. She couldn’t stay here and meet Mac-she simply couldn’t do it.

  She had got to do it-just this once more. And then she would get away from them all and never see them again. The thought of the little girls tugged at her heart. They would forget her. She thought of the people she had known when she was their age. Not Garsty, because Garsty went on. Garsty would never become a shadow in a distant place. Garsty was for now and for always. She thought about old Mrs. Pennystone who had died when Jenny was Meg’s age. She remembered her as a very kind old lady, very fat. She had pressed peppermints on her when they met, and she had given her a wonderful doll for Christmas the year before she died. What was the good of thinking about Mrs. Pennystone, or about any of the other people she had known in the village, and who had died or gone away? They weren’t her own people, and the Forbeses were. That was the plain truth that you couldn’t get away from. Your family was your family. Mac and Alan were her cousins, and the little girls, too. She didn’t know of any other relations. If she went away she would have no one at all. She stopped and looked at that. It was better to have no one than to have people you couldn’t trust.

  She wanted to get right away, and she wanted to get away at once, and to do that she must go down and play a part. Something in her said, “I can’t. I can’t-I can’t do it.” And something else said, “I must.” She listened to that voice.

  When she came into the drawing-room Mac was there. He was reading the paper, but he looked up, smiled his charming smile, and said,

  “Well, what have you been doing with yourself, Jenny my love?”

  The colour whipped into Jenny’s face. She came up the long room to the hearth and stood there. She had put on a black lace dress which she had made for Christmas last year. It was too old for her, but when you have only one evening dress it is better to have a black one, and if it is lace you can do all sorts of things with it, so that it will go on for a long time. You have to think of those things when you are young and poor.

  Jenny didn’t know it, but the black dress did something to her. It made her look older, and it was very, very becoming. She stooped forward over the fire and turned her head away from Mac. She couldn’t look at him.

  She said, “Oh nothing,” in as careless a tone as she could manage. To her horror, she felt the colour run up to her face. It burned there and then slowly, slowly retreated.

  Mac put down his paper and got up and came over to her.

  “Why, Jenny,” he said in a laughing, teasing tone, “what was all the colour about? It was very becoming. I’m not complaining about it, but I do want to know why the flags.”

  Jenny stood her ground. She laughed a little and said,

  “What an imagination you have!”

  “Have I?”

  He laughed, too, and came to stand by the fireplace on the opposite side. He was so near that he could have touched her if he had stretched out his hand.

  The feeling that he was so close came upon Jenny with an intolerable force. She had been so near, so near to loving him, and it was gone-it was all gone away for ever. How was she to endure having him so near?

  She must, she must endure it. Just for this once. Until she could get away. For this one evening she must play her part. And then-oh, then she would be done with them all.

  He was speaking now, looking down at her with the smile she had thought a loving one.

  “You’re very fine tonight.”

  “Am I? I don’t often dine with you, do I? This is the only evening dress I’ve got.”

  “And very nice, too. A little old for you perhaps, but you’re young enough to take that as a compliment. It’s quite a sincere one.” He bent nearer. “Jenny, will you come for a walk with me tomorrow afternoon?”

  She lifted her eyes to his face and said gravely,

  “I don’t know.”

  “I want you to. Just you and me. Please, Jenny.”

  And with that the door opened and Mrs. Forbes came in. She was talking over her shoulder to Alan, who was behind her. When she straightened up and saw Mac and Jenny she came forward with a determined smile.

  “Oh, there you are, you two! Well, Jenny, that’s a very pretty dress. Have I seen it before?”

  “I had it last Christmas,” said Jenny. “Garsty had the stuff, and I made it up.”

  “You made it very nicely.”

  Mrs. Forbes was gracious with a deliberate graciousne
ss that was hard to put up with. Jenny thought, “If I didn’t know that she hated me, and why she was putting up with me, should I have seen that?” And she knew that she wouldn’t. It would have been just Mrs. Forbes with her grand manner. She wouldn’t have thought anything about it.

  They went in to dinner. It was a long evening, and for Jenny it went with intolerable slowness. Alan’s wretched look went to her heart. He was suffering, and so was she. And so was Mrs. Forbes. Jenny knew that. She could even admire in a sort of way the manner in which Mrs. Forbes was carrying the whole thing off. There was a part to be played, and she was playing it very well. She was playing it very well indeed. And Mac? She knew now that he didn’t love her. She even knew that he didn’t love anyone but himself. She wondered whether it would have been easier if she had found that he did love someone else. It was dreadful to know that he didn’t love anyone at all, that he was wholly set on his own advantage. She felt as if there was nothing left to love. She had not quite loved him, but she had come very near it. She had once had a dream in which she had been running lightly over a wide heathery space, and suddenly, quite suddenly, she had checked herself, and only just in time. Because the cliff ended. It ended right there before her feet. If she had taken one more step she would have been over the edge.

  “Down among the dead men,

  Down among the dead men,

  Down among the dead men

  Let him lie.”

  Only it would have been, “Let her lie.” If she hadn’t slipped behind the curtain in the schoolroom she would have been over the edge. As it was, she had saved herself. No, she hadn’t planned to do it. She had been saved, and she wasn’t going down over the edge. She was going to escape.

  Chapter X

  She said good-night when the time came. It was the last good-night that she would ever say to these people in this room. If they were ever to meet again it would be different for them all. Perhaps they would never meet again. She didn’t know, and there was no one to tell her. She went slowly up to her room and shut her door. She thought about locking it. And then she thought, “I mustn’t do anything different-not tonight. I mustn’t do anything to make them say, ‘Why did she do it?’ ” So she left the door unlocked. It wouldn’t have made any difference, because nobody tried it to see whether it was locked or not.