Patricia Wentworth - Beggar’s Choice

“You mustn’t.”

And Isobel said, “Why?” and then, “Oh, foolish Car, don’t you know-”

“We mustn’t,” I said. “I-I’ve no right. I’m-a brute. I didn’t mean-”

Isobel said things I can’t write down. She said she had been very unhappy. She said she wasn’t engaged to Giles Heron. She said she had cared for me always. It didn’t seem possible. I felt as if I had walked straight into a dream, and that presently I should wake up and find that it wasn’t true. I said this to Isobel, and she said,

“Oh, Car darling, it’s my dream too, and I don’t think we shall ever wake up.”

I don’t know how long it was before I realized that it must be getting late. She hadn’t told me why she had asked me to meet her, and it didn’t seem to matter much; it was just one of the things that had got left behind when we went into the dream together.

I said, “It’s getting late.”

And she said, “It doesn’t matter-I’m staying with Aunt Carrie.”

And then she told me that they’d had a burglary at Linwood House, and that the Queen Anne bow had been taken. She said my uncle was dreadfully upset. And she went on to beg me to make up our quarrel. She said any one could see how much he wanted me back.

I told her what I had told her before, that I couldn’t take the first step. I couldn’t get her to understand about that- but he sent me away, and I think it’s up to him to say if he wants me back…

“There’s the little Manor House,” said Isobel. She put her head against my shoulder. “Car, I’ve always wanted to live there. It-it would be heavenly.”

I came out of the dream and shut the door behind me.

“My darling,” I said, “the only house we shall ever have is a castle in the air. You oughtn’t to have come here, and we ought not to have met-and the best thing you can do is to go back to Linwood and forget.”

“After this?” said Isobel, and she kissed me.

I put her away.

“Yes, my darling,” I said.

She laughed. She has such a pretty laugh, but it had a sad sound in it then.

‘’I’m not very clever at forgetting, Car.”

“You must.”

“I’ve tried for three years-no, that’s not true-I’ve never tried to forget you, and I never shall. I’d rather be unhappy-I’d rather break my heart. But it won’t break unless you forget me, or go away where I can’t come. You mustn’t do that again. My heart did nearly break three years ago when you went away without a word. It ached so dreadfully. Oh, Car, you won’t make it ache that way again-will you?”

She was crying, and I had to comfort her. It broke my heart to think of all the times she had cried without any comfort.

In the end I had to promise not to disappear again. She said she could bear it if she knew where I was, and if we wrote to each other. When that was settled we both felt much happier, though I oughtn’t to have promised, and I was worried about it afterwards. At the time I just banged my conscience on the head and told it to shut up.

And then I thought I’d better find out why she had asked me to meet her. I was just going to, when she said,

“What did you want to see me about?”

She would have seen how surprised I was if it hadn’t been so dark.

I said, “I?” and then I laughed. “That’s funny-that’s what I was going to ask you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was going to ask why you wired me to meet you here. I’ve been racking my brains ever since I got the telegram, but I couldn’t think of a reason.”

“Car-stop!” she shook my arm. “What do you mean? I didn’t wire to you-there wasn’t time. I just came.”

I began to have an odd, excited feeling.

“I think we’re at cross purposes,” I said. “Why did you come here?”

“Because you asked me to,” she said.

This was news to me of course.

“Oh, I asked you? How did I ask you?”

“Car-what is it? I don’t understand. You wired to me to meet you here. You said ‘Very urgent.’ I was spending the morning with Corinna, and I just got back in time to snatch some lunch and catch the two-forty at Bidwell. You know there’s nothing after that till six unless one goes into Ledlington, and I wanted to leave my bag at Aunt Carrie’s. It was such a rush. Anna was with Miss Willy when the telegram came, but she forgot to tell me about it, so I had to hurry like anything.”

“You got a wire from me?” I said. I could hardly believe my ears.

“Yes, of course.”

“And I got one from you,” I said. “Is that of course too?”

She drew a very quick breath and pressed against me.

“No-no! Car-I didn’t wire to you at all-I told you I didn’t.”

“Neither did I wire to you, Isobel.”

“Car-oh-what does it mean?”

I felt her trembling.

“I don’t know,” I said, “I got a wire which was signed Isobel. It said, ‘Must see you. Very urgent indeed. Meet me Olding Crescent Putney eight-thirty to-night.”

“I never sent it,” said Isobel. “Miss Willy said a telegram had been telephoned through from Bidwell. She took it down as it came through. It said, ‘Meet me Olding Crescent Putney eight-thirty to-night. Very urgent indeed. Car.’ Didn’t you send it?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Then who-Oh, Car, I don’t like it!”

I didn’t like it either. It might be a practical joke, or it might be something else-I didn’t quite know what. But all of a sudden I wanted Isobel to go almost as badly as I had wanted her to come. If she and I had been brought here to serve some one else’s purpose-and that was what it began to look like-well, I wasn’t for it, and the sooner I got her away the better.

I put my arm round her and began to walk her down the dark side of the road towards the main street. I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s quite brightly lighted, and there are buses that ply over Putney Bridge. My idea was to put Isobel on to a bus and push her off to Mrs. Lester’s, whilst I hung about a bit to see whether anything turned up.

Isobel was rather intractable about leaving me to it, but in the end she saw that I really meant what I said, and that if she stayed, I should only be thinking of her, and no earthly good as a sleuth.

We were waiting for a bus, when all of a sudden she dived into her bag and fished out a little white parcel.

“Here’s another mysterious thing.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s for you.”

She put it into my hand, and I read my own name on the white paper wrapping.

“Where did you get it?” I asked.

“Aunt Willy gave it to me just as I was starting.”

“Miss Willy?”

“She said it came by post.”

“This hasn’t been through the post,” I said.

Isobel turned her head and looked at me with wide, startled eyes. She opened her lips to speak but over her shoulder I saw the bus swing into sight, and I wasn’t going to have her miss it for twenty mysterious packages. I slipped it into my pocket and stepped out into the road with my hand up.

When the bus was out of sight, I went back into Olding Crescent, keeping on the dark side of the road. I couldn’t make out in the least what sort of game this was; but it was clear enough that Isobel and I were being used as pawns in it, and I’d a fancy to see if I couldn’t knock the board over and start a game of my own-and in that game I should be king, and Isobel would be queen.

I was a bit above myself, and no wonder. It was three years since I had dreamed that I should ever tell Isobel what I felt about her, and even three years ago I never got as far as thinking what it would feel like to hear her say the things she had said to me tonight. It didn’t seem possible; but if it was possible, then everything I had ever hoped for or dreamed about was possible too. I wanted to sing and shout. I wanted to do something difficult and dangerous. I felt as if I could tackle anybody or anything. I suppose I as really quite drunk with happiness.