Филиппа Карр - The changeling

I had the firm conviction that Oliver Gerson could tell us something. He would never help Benedict, but what of me? He had been courteous and charming to me always. Of course, he had thought I was a good proposition. He had planned to marry the stepdaughter and so acquire a share in the business. That had been his motive. Most girls would have been impressed by him and very likely delighted that he had planned to marry them.

Was he so bad? Benedict had married his first wife for the goldmine she brought him.

When one grew up one realized that people’s characters were made up of many facets.

Oliver Gerson had been so good to the children, amusing them, playing their games. They had both adored him-Lucie as well as Belinda-but Belinda was more fierce in her emotions. She loved with passion and hated with venom. Therefore while to Lucie he had been Nice Mr. Gerson, to Belinda he had been godlike. If I could see him now ... How? I did not know where he lived. He would, of course, still be connected with the clubs. His had been an important post there. He had been Benedict’s right-hand man; and now that Benedict was no longer working for them, he would still be there with the new owners.

I had heard the names of some of them: The Green Light, The Yellow Canary, Charade and The Devil’s Crown, but that last was the one Benedict had not acquired. I could find out where the clubs were situated. I knew they were all in the west end of London. It would not be very difficult; and as soon as the idea occurred to me I decided to put it into practice.

I felt so much happier than I had for a long time. I was sure I should be hearing from Pedrek soon ... and I owed this to Benedict. He was the one who had made me do the right thing and then set about to prove that it was not only the best for me but the truth. He had given me a chance to be happy again, and I longed to do the same for him.

Just suppose Oliver Gerson knew where Celeste was. It even occurred to me that she might have run off with him. Perhaps they had eloped together to some other country. I could try to find out. Some of his associates at the clubs might know. I would go to London. I would make the excuse that I wanted to be with Morwenna who was so pleased that we had discovered the truth and that her son was exonerated. Normally I should have been beset by pleas from the children to come with me. Lucie wanted to, but I told her I had a great deal to do and I should not be away for long. Belinda showed no desire to accompany me. She had been very subdued since her confession. Leah told me that I need have no qualms about leaving the children at this difficult time. Belinda was clearly relieved that the truth had been revealed. “She had it on her mind, Miss Rebecca,” said Leah, and added, determined to protect her darling:

“She meant well.”

“Yes,” I replied, “the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.”

“Poor mite. It’s her father. That hurt her a lot, you know. And he was the one who got it out of her. She’s terrified of him.”

“On this occasion it was a good thing that she was.”

“Don’t you worry, Miss Rebecca. I’ll look after her when you’ve gone.”

“I know you will, Leah.”

She smiled and I remembered Mrs. Emery’s words when she had described the change in her. She no longer looked as though she were going to a funeral. Poor Leah! But she certainly did seem happier. What an effect parental attitudes had on children. There was Belinda-as she was because she resented her father’s attitude towards her.

And Leah? What had life been like in that shiningly clean cottage presided over by the self-righteous Mrs. Polhenny? No wonder she was secretive .. shut in on herself.

But she seemed to be growing away from that a little now. There was truly a new softness in her face for the whole world and not just for Belinda.

Morwenna was delighted when she heard I was to stay with them for a week or so. So in due course I left Manorleigh for London.

I was warmly welcomed by both Pedrek’s parents, and all the coldness which had existed between us for the last months was swept away.

Morwenna kissed me and said: “Thank you for your letter ... particularly the one you sent to Pedrek ... before ...”

I smiled. What a lot I owed to Benedict.

“I feel sure he will be home soon,” said Morwenna.

Justin came out to greet me. It was like a happy reunion. We talked about Pedrek for practically the whole of the first evening. He was finding Australia interesting but Morwenna fancied he was homesick for Cornwall.

“My father is so delighted that he will be coming home soon,” she added.

“Has he said he is coming home?”

“There has not been time to hear yet, but he will... of course he will.” I prayed he would and that he would forgive me for my doubts. I did have some dark moments when I wondered whether I had wounded him too deeply that even if the wounds healed the scars would show.

We put off talking in any depth about the disappearance of Celeste and the terrible position Benedict was in; but it was there all the time, hanging over us, reminding us that we were inclined to let our happiness over Pedrek’s release from suspicion make us forget.

Morwenna said: “I suppose you will want to do some shopping while you are here?”

“I daresay ...”

“I shan’t be able to come with you as I should have liked. I have one or two engagements, made before I knew you were coming.”

“I understand that ... and I’ll get round quicker on my own.” I wondered what they would say if they knew I proposed to visit The Yellow Canary the next day.

I spent the next morning with Morwenna. Justin had gone off to his office where he worked on the consignments of tin which were sent to various parts of the country and the Continent.

In the afternoon Morwenna went out, full of apologies, to fulfill an engagement.

I told her I should be perfectly all right.

It was a bright and sunny afternoon and as soon as Morwenna left, I went out, hailed a cab and asked to be taken to The Yellow Canary. The cab driver looked rather surprised at such a request coming from a respectable looking female in the middle of the afternoon. We drew up before a building in a rather narrow side street. On the wall by the door was the model of a yellow canary, so I knew I had come to the right place. I alighted and went to the door. I rang a bell. After a few moments a hatch was drawn back and a pair of eyes were looking at me.

“Yes?” asked a male voice.

“Could I speak to the manager?” I asked.

“We’re not open.”

“I know. But I want to make some enquiries.”

“You the press?”

“No. I’m a friend of Mr. Oliver Gerson.”

I fancied that made some impression. He paused. “I could tell him you called.”

“When will he be here?”

“I don’t know. Comes and goes. Wait a minute,” He opened the door and I stepped into a dark little lobby. I was confronted by a flight of stairs.

“Does Mr. Gerson know you’re coming?”

“No. But I have to get in touch with him. It’s urgent.”

He looked at me for a few seconds as though summing me up. “I’ll tell you,” he said at length. “He might be at The Green Light. Yes ... he’s likely to be there.”

“The Green Light? Where is that?”

“Just a few streets from here. All the clubs are close. It’s club area, you see. I’ll tell you how to get there. It’s simple. Turn to your right and go along to the end of this street, cross the road and you’ll see Lowry Street. The Green Light’s on the right. You can’t miss it. It’s got a green light outside.”

“Like your yellow canary.”

“That’s right. You might well find him there at this time.” I thanked him and came out into the street. He had given me clear instructions and it was not difficult to find The Green Light.