Текст книги "Time for Silence"

Автор книги: Philippa Carr

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

“You’ve never betrayed me, Lucinda.”

“Of course I haven’t.”

“You might have done…” She looked at me tearfully and flung herself at me. “Oh, you are a good friend, Lucinda, and I’m not always good to you. Why do you put up with me?”

I heard myself laugh. “I don’t rightly know,” I said. “But you are Annabelinda, the intimate and tormentor of my youth. I’d always do what I could to help.”

“I don’t deserve it, Lucinda. I really don’t.”

Such an admission really disturbed me. Poor Annabelinda! I had rarely seen her so frightened. The only other time was when I had told her I knew about her indiscretion and Edward’s birth.

I truly wished that I could help her, but there was nothing I could do but advise her, and who could say that my advice was any use?

“Do go and see Carl Zimmerman,” I said. “Explain how you are placed now. Tell him it is finished between you, and say good-bye. If he’s a decent, honorable man, he’ll disappear and won’t bother you again.”

“All right, Lucinda. I’ll do that. I’ll go and tell him.”

I heard nothing from her for several days, and I was growing anxious.

I called at the house.

The parlormaid said that Mrs. Merrivale was resting and asked if she should tell her that I was calling.

I was amazed when the maid returned and told me that Mrs. Merrivale had a headache and was sorry she could not see even me. She would be in touch with me and she was sure that she would have recovered by the next day.

I guessed something was very wrong. It was unlike Annabelinda not to want to talk about her troubles, so I guessed she was very worried indeed.

I returned to the house. Andrée was sitting in the garden with Edward. The London garden was a square patio at the back of the house in which a few flowering shrubs were now beginning to show signs of spring blossoms.

Edward was reading aloud to Andrée in a halting fashion.

“Hello,” said Andrée. “How is Mrs. Merrivale?”

“How did you know I was going to see her?”

“You said you were.”

“Oh, did I? I didn’t see her actually. She isn’t well.”

Andrée smiled. “Do you think…?” She nodded toward Edward.

Pregnant? I thought. It was a possibility, but I thought it was more likely something to do with Carl Zimmerman.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I couldn’t say. She had a bad headache.”

“I suppose she leads rather a busy life, with all the people in military circles she has to see.”

“Perhaps.”

I sat there while Edward went on reading. I was thinking of Annabelinda and Carl Zimmerman. What a big part he had played in our lives, and yet I had seen him so rarely.

I remembered the first time, outside the cubbyhole when he had lost his way. And there was the amazement at seeing him working in the gardens at La Pinière, and lastly in Epping Forest with Andrée.

I said on impulse, “Andrée, do you remember that man in Epping Forest…the fair-haired one who asked the way?”

She looked puzzled.

“You remember…you were with Edward and I met you there.”

“I can recall several people who asked me the way while I was there.”

“This was not long ago.”

“Oh…I vaguely remember. Why? What was so special about him?”

“I just wondered what he said? Did he just ask the way, or any questions…about us…or Mrs. Merrivale? I think Major Merrivale might have been in the hospital at the time…though I’m not sure.”

Andrée continued to look puzzled.

“Questions?” she said. “I don’t remember anyone’s asking questions but the way. Why?”

I thought to myself, I’m being rather foolish, and I said quickly, “Oh…it’s of no importance…no importance at all.”

Annabelinda came to see me the following day. I noticed at once that there was a feverish excitement about her. I thought, Andrée is right; she must be pregnant.

I was in the garden once more with Andrée and Edward. We were playing Edward’s favorite game of the moment, “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with a…” and then the first letter of the object, only Edward was not quite sure of the alphabet just yet, so we used phonetics. “Something beginning with a ‘der’ or a ‘sha’ or ‘ber.’ ”

Edward was saying, “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with a ‘ter.’ ”

We pretended to ponder before one of us suggested it might be the tree…when Annabelinda appeared.

“Oh, hello, Lucinda,” she said rather too heartily. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I really did have the most awful head.”

“Oh, I quite understand.”

“But I did turn you away.”

“That’s all right. You’re better today, I hope.”

“I’m fine.”

Edward said rather reprovingly, “We’re playing ‘I spy.’ ”

“What fun,” said Annabelinda absentmindedly.

“It was something beginning with a ‘fler,’ ” went on Edward.

I looked at Andrée and smiled. We should have to devote ourselves to Annabelinda now that she had arrived. So we brought the game to a timely end by saying the answer must be a flower.

“Yes,” cried Edward, delighted.

“Well, we’ll play again later,” I said. And to Annabelinda, “Why don’t you sit down?” I made way for her on the wicker seat.

“I’ve found the most marvelous house,” said Annabelinda. “You must come with me to see it.”

“Where is it?”

“In Beconsdale Square.”

“Where’s that?”

“Not far from here. I’ve got the cutting. Listen: ‘Country mansion in the heart of London.’ Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“I can’t imagine a country mansion here.”

“That’s because you don’t use your imagination.”

“ ‘Beconsdale Square, Westminster,’ ” Annabelinda went on reading. “ ‘In a quiet London square, large family house built circa 1830. Drive in, garden of about half an acre. Large drawing room, suitable for entertaining, eight bedrooms, four large reception rooms, spacious servants’ quarters…’ Then it goes on for a bit. It sounds just right. I like the sound of the drive in. It sets it apart. I have a feeling that this is the one. I shall go to see the agents and make an appointment to see it. Promise me you’ll come with me, Lucinda.”

“Of course. I’m all agog.”

“I’ll let you know when.”

She was silent for a while. She was sitting still and rather tense.

“Do you feel all right, Annabelinda?” I asked.

“I’m just feeling…not very well. I wonder if I could go and lie down for a while?”

“Of course. Come on.”

I went into the house with her.

“I’ll take you to the room you use when you stay here,” I said.

“Oh, thank you, Lucinda.”

When we were there, she took off her coat, kicked off her shoes and lay on the bed.

“Annabelinda,” I said. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

She shook her head. “Just…not very well.”

“Is it…Carl?”

“Oh, no, no. I’m settling that.”

“You’ve seen him then? You’ve told him that you can’t see him anymore?”

“Yes, I’ve seen him. It’s just that…”

“Do you feel sick?”

She nodded.

“Are you…pregnant?”

“It…it could be.”

“Well then, rest a little. It’ll soon pass. I’ll stay with you.”

“No…no, Lucinda. You go back to the garden. I’ll be all right. I feel I just want to be quiet…alone. It’ll pass, I know.”

“All right. If there’s anything you want, just ring. Meg will come up.”

“Oh, thank you, Lucinda. I’d feel better if you went back to the garden and there was no fuss. I’ll feel better, I know I shall. It doesn’t take long for this to pass.”

“So you’ve had it before?”

“Once or twice. I hope it’s not going to be a regular thing.”

“It’s only in the first weeks, I’ve heard.”

“Thank you, Lucinda.”

I went out and rejoined Andrée and Edward in the garden. We must have been there for about half an hour when Annabelinda came out.

She looked better, relieved, I thought.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m all right now.”

“You look flushed.”

“Do I?”

“Well, you’re all right. That’s the main thing.”

“Yes. I’m all right now. I’m sorry it happened.”

“Never mind. Tell us about the house.”

“It really seems that this will be it,” she said.

“Annabelinda! All you’ve seen is this advertisement.”

“I have a feeling in my bones.”

“What does the major say about it?” asked Andrée.

“Oh, he doesn’t know. I want to find the house and then take him along and show him how wonderful it is. It seems just right. Secluded. It’s not easy to be secluded in London. It will be wonderful for entertaining. The war must be over one day. It can’t go on forever. Then this will be just what we need.”

When she left I walked back with her. “Just in case you don’t feel well on the way back,” I told her.

“Oh, Lucinda, you do take good care of me.”

“I always have in a way, you know. You think you are the worldly-wise, clever one, but when you come to think of it, I have looked after you far more than you have me. Yet you always behave as though I’m the simple one.”

“Forgive me, Lucinda. I wish I had been better to you.”

“I can’t understand you, Annabelinda…and I think it is for the first time in your life. You’re becoming human.”

She laughed, and when we reached the house she said, “Come in for a while.”

“Thanks, I don’t think I will. I ought to get back.”

“All right. And thank you…for being such a good friend.”

Changed indeed, I thought, as I walked home.

Perhaps it was because she was contented in her marriage and she was going to have a child. Motherhood changed people, softened them; and this pregnancy, unlike that with Edward, would be a happy one.

She must be thankful that she had come to this happy state.

There was an account in the paper of a derelict farmhouse along the coast three miles from Folkestone which had been the scene of an explosion. There was no explanation as to what had caused this.

There were comments from the local people. “ ‘I heard the noise. Deafening, it was, and then I saw the flames. The place went up like a matchbox on fire.’ ”

The verdict was that it was an example of wanton arson. There were no casualties.

My father asked me to meet him in his study, and when I arrived he shut the door and said, “I want to talk to you, Lucinda. You are absolutely sure no one has been in here? You have had the key in your possession all the time?”

“Yes.” I pulled out the chain and showed him the key. “It has been with me all day and night.”

“I don’t think any strangers have been in the house this last week.”

“I am sure not.”

“I must explain to you. You know everything is speeding up over there. The Germans are getting desperate. They firmly believed that they would have brought the war to a satisfactory conclusion long before this. The fighting on the Somme has been fierce. As you know, our factories are working at top speed. We have the arms now, and the only difficulty is getting them over there. The enemy is determined to stop them from reaching their destinations. It is vital for them to do so. They have to be stored in arms deposits before we can ship them across the Channel. The site of these storehouses is only known to a few, and certain information is leaking. It seems to come from me. I set a trap.”

Understanding dawned on me. I said, “That place in Folkestone?”

“Yes. There was nothing there. I had a document in my bureau. On it there were lists of ammunition that were supposed to be stored in this farmhouse which was derelict. It was near the coast and, according to this document, was due for almost immediate shipment. Lucinda, there was only one reason for blowing up that farmhouse, and that was because it was believed that we had stocks of ammunition there. And this happened because in my desk was this document. It was placed there as a test.”

“So then…it is someone in this house!” I cried. “Oh…I can’t believe it. What can we do?”

“Short of having a watcher always in the room, I can’t say. I shall not keep anything of importance there now. But what is vital is to discover the spy. We know now that there is one…in this house.”

“What can we do now?”

“We just go on as before. Always be on the alert. If anything extraordinary happens…however trivial…let’s talk about it.”

“Yes, father. I understand,” I said soberly.

I felt very uneasy. It was an eerie feeling, to know that someone near to us was working for the enemy. It had been proved.

I felt the need to be alone to think. I could not believe Mr. and Mrs. Cherry could possibly be concerned. Yet Mrs. Cherry had had the key. If any workmen came to the house, she would be the one to deal with them. Alice, Meg, Carrie—impossible! The Mentons? Eddie? Eddie was the most likely. He had not been with us so long. He was young. Perhaps he would be tempted. Whoever wanted such information would pay well for it.

I went for a walk and was wandering rather aimlessly when suddenly I saw the words BECONSDALE ROAD. There was a familiar ring about it. Of course, Beconsdale Square was where the house Annabelinda was going to see was situated.

The Square must be near the Road, I presumed, and it did not take me long to find it.

The houses were certainly grand. They were all different, which added to their attraction. Most of them were well set back from the sidewalks and had their drives.

They all appeared to be occupied by the affluent, which was what I had expected. I wondered which one was for sale. I walked around the square, in the center of which was a well-kept garden that I supposed was for the use of the residents, in accordance with the custom.

I found the empty house. It was certainly impressive, and I felt sure Annabelinda would be pleased.

I could not resist opening the iron gates and looking along the drive. The grass on the lawn needed cutting and the shrubs surrounding the house were overgrown. That gave the place an air of mystery. That would all be different when Annabelinda took charge. I could well imagine that the house offered just what she wanted.

I walked up the drive. If I met anyone I would say that a friend of mine was interested in the place and I should shortly be coming along with her to see it. There was a big brass knocker and I could not resist knocking. It sounded quite deafening in the silence all around.

The place was quite isolated because of the grounds surrounding it. I guessed it had been empty some little time.

There was no answer to my knock, which was perhaps just as well as I felt I was probably being a little officious. I went around to the back of the house and looked through windows. I could see the hall and wide staircase. It would be grand enough for Annabelinda, I was sure.

I could not cast off the eerie feeling the house aroused in me. But empty houses did have that effect—particularly one which, in spite of being situated in a London square, was somewhat isolated.

It must have been two days later when Annabelinda called. She was in a state of tension still, and I wondered what was happening, for I certainly felt that something was.

On this occasion she was anxious to be alone with me.

She said rather breathlessly, “I have decided that I am going to tell Marcus.”

“Tell Marcus!”

“Yes. I am going to tell him everything.”

“Everything?”

“I…I’ll see. I am going to tell him about Carl. I have to, Lucinda. I can’t go on. I can see I have got to.”

“You’ve seen Carl again?”

She nodded.

“And he is being difficult?”

She nodded again. “I can’t go on, Lucinda. I just can’t.”

“Don’t work yourself up into a frenzy. I think you are doing the right thing. I am sure Marcus will understand. After all, he is a man of the world.”

“People expect women not to have lovers.”

“Well, things don’t always work out as people expect.”

“You seem to think it is so easy.”

“Of course I don’t. But I feel sure it will be all right. If you didn’t tell him, you’d be worrying about Carl forever. If you tell him the truth, you’ll know that is the worst that can happen. At least you’ve faced it.”

“I shall choose my moment.”

“That’s sensible enough.”

“I’m thinking of it all the time. I am going to tell Carl I can’t do what he wants.”

“What does he want?”

“He…he’s still in love with me. He won’t give me up. He’ll make trouble, Lucinda.”

“I am sure you should tell Marcus. Then you’ll be well rid of Carl. Let him know you don’t care for his blackmail…for that’s what it is, isn’t it? Marcus will send Carl about his business.”

“It’s not easy, but I have to do it. Who would have thought all this could have come out of…that…?”

“Poor Annabelinda! But you are doing the right thing at last. Marcus must understand.”

“Do you think so?”

“He must,” I said firmly. “Come and see Edward.”

“I don’t feel up to it.”

“It will do you good. Andrée always likes to see you. She thinks you are so attractive and lead such an interesting life.”

“Well, I suppose I could.”

“Of course you could.”

I took her up to the nursery. Edward was sitting on the floor coloring pictures. Andrée was sewing.

Edward looked up and said, “Hello,” while Andrée laid aside her sewing and said, “Good morning, Mrs. Merrivale.”

“Good morning,” replied Annabelinda and sat down.

“You are better today, Mrs. Merrivale?” asked Andrée.

“Yes, thanks. Much.”

“I’m so glad.”

“You haven’t brought your funny hat,” commented Edward without looking up from his painting.

“You don’t appreciate this one?” asked Annabelinda.

I could see that Edward was mouthing the word appreciate. A new one for him. He would use it soon afterward in the way he always did. If he decided he liked it, it would figure in his conversations for the next days to come.

The newspaper was lying on the table. Annabelinda glanced at it. “They are still going on about that explosion,” she said.

“What a mercy there was no one there,” commented Andrée.

“I wonder who did it,” I said. “It seemed pointless. Like that place…you remember…Milton Priory.”

“Wasn’t that something to do with the gas?” asked Andrée.

“They did say something about that at the time,” I replied.

“I’m glad no one was hurt,” put in Annabelinda. “I’m very glad about that.”

She’s changed, I thought. She sounds as though she really cares. A little while ago she wouldn’t have given the matter a thought.

“By the way,” said Andrée, “did you ever see that house you were interested in?”

“Oh…I was forgetting. That was really what I came about.”

“Is this the one in Beconsdale Square?” I asked.

“Yes, of course. It sounds exciting.”

“I forgot to tell you. I took a look at it.”

“Really?”

“Only from the outside. At least, I suppose it was the one. It was the only one, as a matter of fact, that seemed to be empty in the square.”

“So you actually went there?”

“I came upon Beconsdale Road by chance and thought the square must be close by, so I did a little investigation. I went along the drive and looked in the windows. If it is the one I saw, it is going to suit you.”

“Well, I am going to see it tomorrow. I want you to come with me, Lucinda.”

“I’d love to see more of it.”

“You know exactly where it is. Could you meet me there at two-thirty? The agent will be there to let us in.”

“I’ll be there,” I said. “I must say I found it most intriguing.”

The next day I set out for Beconsdale Square. It was about two-fifteen, which I thought would give me just enough time to reach the house by two-thirty. I guessed Annabelinda would be on time, although normally she was inclined to be late. But this was something she would be enthusiastic about, even though she had Carl Zimmerman on her mind.

I arrived about a minute or so before two-thirty. There was no sign of the agent who was to meet us there.

I went up the drive and stood at the door. It was very silent. I was surprised that Annabelinda had not arrived. I strolled back to the gate and as I did so a man appeared. He was in striped trousers and black coat, and as he carried a briefcase, I guessed that he was the house agent.

“Good afternoon,” he said. “I am a few moments late…the traffic. Shall we go in, Mrs. Merrivale?”

“I am not Mrs. Merrivale,” I replied. “I’m a friend of hers. She wanted me to see the house with her.”

“Oh, of course. May I have the pleasure…?”

“Miss Greenham,” I said, and we shook hands.

“My name is Partington; John Partington of Partington and Pike. Well, I am rather relieved that Mrs. Merrivale is a little late. I hate to keep ladies waiting.”

“Yes, I’m surprised she’s late. She is so eager to see the house. As you say, the traffic can be a problem.”

“I am sure she will be attracted by this house,” he went on. “There is really something very special about it.”

“Yes, it looks interesting. There is quite a sizable garden, by London standards.”

“It really is the country house in town, and that’s the truth.”

“I’m very much looking forward to seeing it.”

He glanced anxiously along the drive. There was no sign of Annabelinda.

“She must be along soon now,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sure she will.”

A few more moments passed and still there was no sign of Annabelinda. He was beginning to be uneasy, and so was I. It was twenty minutes to three.

“Why don’t we go in?” I said.

He was thoughtful for a moment, then he said, “Yes, why not? If something has prevented her coming, you can tell her what you think. But I have no doubt that she will be here soon.”

He took a last look around, opened the door and stood aside for me to enter.

I stepped into the hall. It was spacious and there was the grand staircase that I was sure would please Annabelinda.

I walked across the hall, the sound of my footsteps echoing on the wood floor.

“It is lovely!” I said.

“A very desirable property.”

“Where do these doors lead?”

“Well, one would be to the kitchen, I imagine, and the other to one of the reception rooms.”

I opened that door. I was unprepared for what met my eyes. Annabelinda was lying on the floor, very still, and there was something about her which filled me with an increasing horror.

I stood for a few stunned seconds staring at her. I heard myself gasp, “Mr. Partington…”

“What is it, Miss Greenham?”

He came and stood by my side.

“My God,” he said. “She’s been strangled.”

I had knelt beside her. “Annabelinda,” I said. I kept saying her name over and over again.

She lay there inert. There was a look of surprised terror on her face, which was white and lifeless.

“Annabelinda,” I sobbed. “What was it? What happened?”

I heard Mr. Partington say, “We’ve got to get help….”

I could not rise. I just knelt there, looking at her.