Филиппа Карр - We'll meet again

I managed, with Janet's help, to avoid mentioning embarrassing details, and as the imminence of war was on everyone's mind to such an extent, this was not really difficult.

I spent a rather restless night in the Baileys' spare room and in the morning had made up my mind that I would telephone Caddington and ask Violetta to come here so that we could plan what had to be done.

I was trembling as I made the call, ready to cut off if anyone but Violetta answered... even my parents... though I should feel very guilty, remembering all the love they had showered on me throughout my life. But I simply could not face them, telling the truth. If I had merely eloped it would have been different, but to have staged my disappearance to make it look like death was a terrible thing to have done.

Yes, I must speak first to Violetta.

A voice came over the line to me. It is amazing what emotions one can feel in the space of a second.

"Caddington Hall," said the voice, which I recognized as Amy's, one of the maids. I felt relieved, then fearful that, if I remembered her voice, she might mine, so I assumed a French accent.

"Could I speak please to Mademoiselle Denver... Mademoiselle Violetta.”

"Miss Violetta isn't here now.”

"Not there?”

"No. She's gone to Cornwall.”

"Oh ... er... thank you very much.”

I rang off.

She was in Cornwall, of course. I had asked her to look after Tristan if I should not be there. That was when the thought had come to me that I should make a poor sort of mother, and that Violetta would be a perfect one. My little Tristan would need her in his life. And indeed he had!

So she was with him. And now what must I do? I must go to Cornwall.

I must speak to Violetta. She would help me to decide the best way to get back.

I spent another restless night trying to decide the best way to settle the matter. I would have to tell Violetta the truth, of course, and together we must concoct a scheme. It occurred to me that I might have become unconscious during that early morning swim and been picked up by a fishing boat. I had lost my memory, which I had only just regained.

I knew that they all believed me to be dead and my returning to life would be a shock to them. I had to see Violetta first.

She would help me break it gently. She will get me out of this, I told myself, as she had so many times before.

I had explained to the Baileys that my sister was in Cornwall and I wanted to break the news to her first, so I should go to her immediately.

I set off the next day. I should arrive in the evening when there were few people about. I must not be recognized. Of course, no one would be expecting to see me, but many of them had known me when I was at Tregarland and I could imagine the stories which would go round if I were seen.

I realized that I could not call at Tregarland where, of course, Violetta would be. She would be looking after Tristan.

Then a wild idea came to me. There was a Mrs. Pardell, who lived on the west side of Poldown on the cliff in a rather isolated spot. She was the mother of Dermot's first wife and Violetta had struck up a friendship with her when she was trying to find out the truth about my predecessor. Violetta had said she was a blunt and honest North Countrywoman.

I arrived at Poldown, as planned, late in the afternoon. I decided I would go first to Mrs. Pardell. I would tell her that I was afraid to go to Tregarland. If she believed Dermot had murdered his first wife, she would understand the fears the second might feel. I would tell her this tale of loss of memory (I had embellished it a little since I first thought of it), and I would ask her advice. People love to be asked for advice. It makes them feel wise.

This is what I did and, to my tremendous relief and not a little surprise, it worked.

I knocked at her door; she opened it and regarded me suspiciously.

Then I saw her expression change. She had recognized me.

"Don't be afraid," I said. "I am not a ghost. I am myself.”

She seemed unable to speak. Then she said: "You're Mrs. Tregarland... the second one, I mean.”

"That's right. I lost my memory. I can explain. I'd like to tell you about it. I know I can trust you.”

That was another point. People like to be trusted.

"It is all so difficult," I went on. "I know you will help me.”

People like to be asked for help, and to give it-if it is not too inconvenient to themselves.

"You'd better come in," she said.

I could see she was trying to suppress her uneasiness in talking to what might be a ghost, but she was determined to cling to her North Country good sense and have "nowt to do with any of that ghost nonsense.

She was really rather brave, I thought; I must say her conduct was admirable.

I was taken into a sitting room and seated near a picture of the first Mrs. Tregarland-a handsome girl, with somewhat overripe attractions.

A good sort, I thought, easy going, just right to bring people into the inn where she had worked as a barmaid before her marriage.

Poor Dermot! He had been very young at the time.

I told my story. I had gone swimming one day, had lost my memory, had been taken into a hospital some way off. I could not remember where or who I was.

"Well, there was an awful fuss when you went. Your sister was very cut up. I reckon she'll be as pleased as a dog with two tails when she knows you're back. You'd better get to her right away.”

"I want to make sure of seeing her alone first. I shall have to explain. I am very undecided, Mrs. Pardell. It will be a shock, and I am a little frightened about my husband.”

She was silent, staring at me.

I said: "I'm afraid to go back... afraid...”

"I know what you mean," she said. "There's something funny about that place. But you needn't be afraid of him anymore. He got his come-uppance, he did.”

"What do you mean, Mrs. Pardell?”

"He's dead. Fell off his horse. He was crippled ... badly. Then he took too many pills. Some said it was by accident, some said he meant to do it. They weren't sure.”

I could not speak. I was too shocked. I kept saying to myself: It was my fault. Oh, my poor Dermot. You fell off your horse and I wasn't there and you died. How much better it would have been if you had never taken that holiday in the German forest! How much better for us all!

I thought: How can I face them now... even Violetta? She will blame me. This changes everything.

I had planned to tell them the story of losing my memory. No one except Violetta must ever know about Jacques. I had planned to reform and be a good wife to Dermot for ever after. Now... he was dead.

I stammered: "I find it all so difficult. It wasn't what I had expected.

I don't know how I shall face them ... even my sister.”

"Your sister is a nice, sensible girl.”

"I know ... but even her... after this. My husband ... dead.”

"Don't take it so hard. I'll never believe he didn't have a hand in my girl's death.”

"No ... not Dermot. He would never hurt anyone.”

"Well, he was your husband. It's natural, I suppose, for you to stand up for him.”

"Mrs. Pardell, may I stay here for a while? I've a little money.

Suppose I could stay for about a week. I'll pay for everything. I've got to think how I am going to get back.”

She hesitated for a moment, then she said: "You're welcome to stay.”

"Oh, thank you. I only want a few days. I couldn't even see my sister now ... not just yet. I have to think...”

When I look back on that time, I can't remember the order in which things happened. I went over my plans, deciding what I could tell Violetta. I should need all my courage to face her. The news about Dermot had unnerved me. I was in a panic now. I felt sick and ashamed. I could not stop thinking of Dermot's going out riding ... recklessly, I imagined, for he had always been decidedly at home on a horse. Mrs. Pardell had hinted darkly that he had been drinking. Oh, Dermot, I thought, what did I do to you?