Don Gutteridge - Governing Passion

“And the second reason?”

“The leader of the combined Reform group isnot to be Robert Baldwin but Louis LaFontaine.”

That took Thériault by surprise. “This isagreed?”

“It is. They hope eventually to form aLaFontaine-Baldwin ministry.”

“And what are these common policies?”

Again, Marc spent time going over theprogressive platform that had been hammered out between Baldwin andLaFontaine the previous year: the improvement of commerce, newcanal construction, the revamping of the banking system, theformation of a permanent civil service, and the end of nepotism ingovernment. Thériault asked searching questions about each point,and seemed both surprised and pleased with Marc’s answers.Pettigrew simply sat and marvelled at the depth and range of thediscussion.

Finally, Thériault reached over and shookMarc’s hand.

“You have convinced me, sir. I shall throw inwith LaFontaine and Baldwin and do my best to persuade others.”

Marc sighed with relief. They were one morestep on the road to responsible government.

Cobb spent a miserable night sitting in adining-room chair in Birch Grove trying, unsuccessfully, to stayawake. No screams of terror disturbed him unless they were in oneof his many nightmares. When Christine Pettigrew had retired at teno’clock, Cobb had been allowed upstairs. Mrs. Baldridge then satsentinel outside her mistress’s bedroom door, in the room next toCobb, and proceeded to knit. No-one was apparently to disturbChristine once she went to her own suite. At about eleven o’clock,Mrs. Baldridge had left for her room and Cobb remained alone — withnothing to do but twiddle his thumbs. And doze.

Sometime towards morning, Cobb dreamt thatDora arrived home from one of her night visits with a large bagslung over her shoulder, like a laundry woman’s. ‘I’ve had a busynight collectin’ these,’ she said merrily, and dumped the contentsof the bag on the floor beside Cobb. They were babies, livesquirming babies. Cobb woke up with a start, breathing heavily.Daylight was just beginning to seep through the dining-roomwindows. He could hear the servants below, getting the day started.The room was icy cold. Cobb shivered. How many more nights likethis would he be required to endure?

***

“Bagshaw’s got it in fer you,” Dora Cobb opined asshe shovelled another helping of sausage onto her husband’sbreakfast plate. “That’s all there is to it.”

“He don’t want me to play detective, Iguess.”

“Pure jealousy, I’d say. And where is itgettin’ him?”

“I’m sure I could’ve found the gentlemandoin’ these awful deeds,” Cobb said, chomping into a sausage. “Buthow can I help out bein’ stuck at Birch Grove baby-sittin’ astrange woman?”

“Strange? In what way?”

“Well, fer one thing, she calls me upstairsbecause she needs someone to talk to.”

“You?” Dora said, raising her eyebrow.

“Yeah, me. Ain’t that pathetic?”

“I can’t imagine what you’d have to talkabout.”

“Well, she just wanted a listenin’ post ferher so-called troubles.”

“She was assaulted, though.”

“That didn’t seem to bother her as much asher twin brother gettin’ married down in Kingston.”

“A twin, eh? They’re always mightyclose.”

“Well, she went on and on about bein’betrayed by her brother leavin’ her. I was glad to get out ofthere.”

“I guess you’ll be wantin’ to sleep throughthe day?”

Cobb grinned. “Somehow I don’t feel sosleepy.”

***

Cobb arrived at Birch Grove at seven o’clockthat evening to find that Miss Pettigrew was just about to sit downto her supper. Gulliver was steering Cobb towards the stairs to theservants’ quarters when Christine called out to him from thedining-room.

“Have Mr. Cobb come in and take a seat,” shesaid.

“Oh, I’ve already eaten,” Cobb said. Gulliverhad not let go of his sleeve.

“I’ll have Mrs. Baldridge bring you a cup ofcoffee.”

Gulliver let go reluctantly, and Cobb wentthrough the archway into the dining-room. Mrs. Baldridge gloweredat him, but went off to fetch his coffee. Christine was seated atone lonely end of a long table, her soup steaming in front of her.Then Cobb noticed that a second place had been set beside her. Hemoved towards it.

“Oh, no, not there!” she cried. “That’sChristopher’s place.”

“But Christopher’s in Kingston” Cobb pointedout gently.

“But he could arrive home any minute. Ialways set a place for him.”

Cobb sat down on the opposite side of thetable, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. “Is it all right here?”

“Oh, yes. You’ll have coffee while Ieat.”

“That’s good of you, ma’am, but I don’t mindthe servants’ quarters.”

“I need someone to talk to.”

“So you said last night. Why don’t you inviteyour friend to visit you?”

Christine’s face darkened. “Christina onlycomes when she feels like it. Sometimes I think she doesn’t evenlike me.”

“Well, you could go to her house perhaps. I’dbe happy to escort you.”

“She doesn’t like anyone suddenly dropping inon her.”

Cobb wondered what kind of friend this couldbe.

“Anyway, I want to talk to you. You seemed sounderstanding last night when I told you how faithless my brotherhas been.”

“But your brother will have to marrysometime, won’t he?” Cobb said, pointing to what he thought wasobvious.

“Of course he won’t!” she snapped. “He’salready got me, hasn’t he?”

“But he might want children, a regular familylife.”

“You’re beginning to sound just like him.”Her pale blue eyes widened and a wild, almost desperate, look cameinto her expression.

At this point the conversation was saved bythe arrival of Mrs. Baldridge with a cup of coffee on a tray.Beside it was an envelope.

“What’s that?” Christine said sharply.

Mrs. Baldridge replied hesitantly. “Well,Gulliver picked this up at the post office this afternoon, andseeing how letters seem to upset you so, he held onto it. I’vealready chastised him for it.”

“Leave it with me.”

“Couldn’t you wait till after you’veeaten?”

“It’s from Christopher. I must read it rightaway.” She snatched the letter from the tray, tore it open, andbegan reading the letter, muttering under her breath as she didso.

“He’s not coming home! He’s not cominghome!”

“Please, Christine, don’t upset yourself,”Mrs. Baldridge said. “He’ll be home as soon as he can. He’s animportant man of the world now. We can’t have him all toourselves.”

“And he mentions that harlot again!”

At this she rose up, spilling her soup, andhurled the letter to the floor. Her face went beet-red, twisted inpain and frustration. Her hands turned to fists as she leanedagainst the table. Suddenly her whole body began to tremble, andher eyes rolled back in her head. Mrs. Baldridge let out a littlecry and reached out to catch her mistress as she collapsed in afaint.

Cobb was up instantly and at Mrs. Baldridge’sside.

“Is she havin’ a fit?” Cobb said, staringdown into the girl’s face, now becalmed.

“It’s her headache. It often starts this way.I’ll carry her to her room.”

“Can you manage?”

“I have for twenty-some years.”

With that, the little woman carried the tallgirl into the next room and through a far door, which led toChristine Pettigrew’s suite. Cobb ran ahead and opened thedoor.

“No-one’s allowed in but me,” Mrs. Baldridgesaid firmly, and swept inside. The door closed behind her.

‘What have I gotten myself into?’ was Cobb’sthought.

He turned and went back into the dining-room.His coffee was still there, still hot. He sat down and drank it. Nosound came from Christine’s suite. Cobb noticed the letter on thefloor. He picked it up. He remembered seeing several like it on asmall secretary in the sewing-room last night. He decided to putthis one with its fellows. There were four or five other letters ina neat pile on the desk. He placed this one on top. Then somethingmade him browse through the others. They were all from Christopherin Kingston. They had come quite regularly. And, he assumed, eachone had brought on the “headache.”