Philippa Carr: Gossamer Cord

With what joy we saw him looming out of the mist.

“Oh,” cried Dorabella. “How wonderful! We were quite scared.”

He was grinning. “I was hoping to find you,” he said. “I saw you turn into the forest.”

“Where were you?”

“I came for coffee. I hoped you’d be there. The waiter told me you had just gone. Then I saw you down the road. I watched you go into the forest and I hurried down to catch you up. If I couldn’t, I decided I would have a beer in the schloss and await your return.”

Dorabella was overcome with delight and wonder. It had all turned out right after all.

Dermot Tregarland took charge.

“This devilish mist!” he said. “It is a shocker, don’t you agree? One doesn’t know which way to turn. We’d better get out of here fast. It could get worse as night comes on. I know the way I came and I’m fairly good at finding my way around. There was a gnarled old tree I passed…struck by lightning, I imagine…I guess when we find that we’ll be on the right road. There is a small one growing nearby. So…Excelsior!”

Dorabella giggled. The nightmare had turned into a thrilling adventure because our perfect, gentle knight had arrived to rescue us. This alone would make the holiday worthwhile and, to tell the truth, before, for Dorabella, it had been a trifle disappointing.

He was indeed all he had implied. He led us with the minimum of difficulty to the stricken tree. He shouted with triumph.

“We’re on the way.” Then he found the small tree to which he had referred. And there we were on the road.

Dorabella flung her arms round me and, looking over my shoulder at him, cried: “You’re wonderful.”

“I think we need something to warm us up,” he said. “What about a glass of wine—or are you tempted by their really excellent beer?”

Frau Brandt was at the door of the schloss looking anxiously along the road.

She said: “The mist had come up rather quickly, as it often does at this time of the year. I was beginning to think it was time you were back.”

Dorabella explained that we were lost in the forest and Mr. Tregarland had brought us out.

“Ach!” cried Frau Brandt, and broke into a stream of German which, we realized, expressed relief. She went on about the ease with which people could be lost in the forest and had to remain there until the mist cleared.

She hustled us into the schloss. It was not weather for loitering in the Beer Garden. What refreshments would we like?

We said we would like a glass of wine…a sort of aperitif. So wine was brought and we sat together—Dorabella in a state of extreme contentment. I thought to myself, I believe she is falling in love with this young man, or perhaps trying to convince herself that she is. And he? He was charming, and it was clearly Dorabella who had his attention. She was the sort of girl who changed in the society of men. If she were depressed, this could be completely dispersed by masculine appreciation. She sparkled; she was at her most enchanting best. I suppose there were occasions when I might have felt a little jealous, but I did not now. For one thing, I took her superior feminine charms for granted; and so far I had never felt any desire for the attention of those men who attracted her.

I liked this young man. He was certainly charming, but that was all. Dorabella was inclined to let her emotions flow too easily. I was always afraid that she would—as she had once or twice in the past—have to face some disappointment.

Dermot lifted his glass and said: “To our safe return from the dangers of the forest.”

Dorabella touched her glass with his and they smiled at each other.

“How lucky for us that you saw us,” said Dorabella.

“It was more due to design than luck,” he assured her. “I was so sorry to have missed you. I was so certain that I would find you sitting there sipping your coffee. I was so grateful to the waiter for telling me you had only just left. Then I dashed off and saw you turning into the forest. It occurred to me that it might be misty there. Indeed, it did seem to be getting worse every moment.”

“So you came to rescue us,” said Dorabella. “It was truly marvelous, the way you brought us out.”

They smiled at each other again.

“The English have to stick together when on alien soil…even if some of them are only Cornish.”

Dorabella laughed at everything he said, as though she found it the height of wit. I would tell her when we were alone that she must not be so blatantly adoring.

Then we started to talk about ourselves. We told him who Edward was and how our mother had brought him out of France at the beginning of the war.

He was very interested. “And Edward is the good big brother to you.”

“Oh, yes,” I said. “He is wonderful to us, always feels he has to look after us.”

“He does not forbid you to wander in the misty forest?”

“He will be furious with us for having done so,” said Dorabella. “But he has gone off for the day with his friend Kurt—the son of the Brandts. They have known each other for some little time. That is why we are here.”

He said he hoped to meet Edward.

He told us something about his house in Cornwall. It had been in the Tregarland family for hundreds of years. In fact it was called “Tregarland’s.” It was built of gray stone; it faced the sea and received the full blast of the southwest gales. But it had stood up to them for centuries and it seemed would continue doing so. It had towers at either end and its gardens sloped right down to a beach which belonged to the house but there was a “right of way” through it; otherwise people walking along the shore would have to climb the cliff and go round the house and descend again if they wished to continue along the beach.

“Not many people come that way. In the summer there might be a few visitors, but that is usually all.”

“Do you have any family?” I asked.

“My father is an invalid. My mother died when I was very young. That is really all the family. There is Gordon Lewyth—he is like a member of the family. He looks after the estate. He’s a wonderful manager. Then there is his mother who runs the house. She isn’t exactly a housekeeper. She’s a distant connection of the family, I believe…all rather vague. She came to us when my mother died and has run the house ever since. That must be about twenty-three years ago. It has worked out very well.”

“And there you are with your father your only family, really,” said Dorabella.

“Yes, but as I say, Gordon Lewyth and his mother are really like family.”

“It sounds interesting,” said Dorabella.

“And what do you do?” I asked.

“There is a Tregarland estate. Farms and so on. They are let out to tenant farmers and we have an interest in them. Then there is the home farm. I help in the management, although Gordon is more involved than I am. There’s a lot to do on an estate, you know.”

“It’s rather like Caddington,” I said. “We know something about the managing of estates, don’t we, Dorabella?”

“Oh, yes. Our father is always busy and our brother will take over one day, I suppose. That sort of thing goes on in families like ours.”

“That’s so. I think it would be a good idea if I stayed here for a meal tonight. Then I can grope my way back to my hotel through the mist later on.”

So we talked and eventually Edward and Kurt returned. When they heard about our adventure in the forest Edward looked very severe and reprimanded us for not being more careful. Hadn’t we been warned often enough about the mist in the forest?

It was a merry party when we had dinner that night. Dermot was invited to share the meal in the private dining room with the family and everyone seemed to treat him as a hero because he had brought us out of the forest.