Филиппа Карр: The Black Swan

Things are working out very well here. All is going smoothly, and as Henry is not raising any objection and it is a clear case of my being the sinner... we’re hoping all will go well.

We are a bit afraid of the press, but Bobby’s family has influence and they are working hard for us. It is this dear little infant who is making them all so eager... Bobby’s family, I mean. They are all desperately anxious that he shall be born in wedlock. Then of course if we do just miss, it will all be suitably covered up, and Bobby and I will go through the ceremony-very quietly-as soon as it is over. So I am not worrying. I wish you could come here and stay. It would be great fun. It’s really rather pleasant. I quite like being the lady of the manor. None of the people on the estate know that I have no right to the title and we are hoping to keep that little matter dark.

However, it is all rather thrilling... and quite amusing ... or it will be when it is all over.

Why do these people have to take so long?

Well, that’s all about me. What of you? How are you getting on in Gray Stone? It sounds dreary. And how is dear Roland and his sister?

By the way, Joel came down to see us. He stayed a night. He wanted to talk to me ... about you, of course. He asked if I knew where you were? I gave him the address I’m putting on this letter. He asked if I was writing to you and he wanted me to tell you something specially. That’s why I’m writing to you now. He said, “Could you write and tell Lucie that I’m working on things?” He said something about it’s being wrapped up in mystery and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

One thing I have to make sure to tell you is the message: Fergus O’Neill had a brother...

I stopped reading. A brother! Did that mean that the brother was pretending to be him? Were they alike? Did they both have that widow’s peak? Then could it possibly be that the brother had decided to haunt me? How could that be? Both Roland and Phillida had been standing beside me and had not seen him.

And Joel had discovered this. I felt suddenly much happier. He was working for me.

It was a wonderful feeling of relief.

If I could only see Joel!

I turned back to the letter.

Joel said that the brother was as deeply involved as Fergus. He said they were all working for what they called “the cause.” Joel is delving into things and there are one or two points he can’t be quite clear about as yet. As soon as he has found what he wants he is coming to you. In the meantime he said-and he stressed this-you must take the utmost care. He would like you to get back to London. He was very serious. He is a most attractive man. If I weren’t so devoted to Bobby ...

Well, enough of that.

Dear Lucie, do come and see me. I don’t like to think of you all those miles away.

I do hope this reaches you. Anyway why haven’t you written to me? Then you could give me the proper address. When you do, I shall pass it on to Joel! I can’t understand why you haven’t written.

Love from Belinda... and Bobby and that one who will soon be making his august entry into the world.

I smiled and read the letter again. Joel was thinking of me. Probing, he said. How I longed to be with him!

I was glad I had posted my letter. I was feeling considerably better. What a good impulse it was that had led me into Bracken this afternoon. The letter would of course have come into my hands eventually; but it was just what I needed this day.

I settled my horse in the stable and went into the house. I called to tell Phillida that I was back, but there was no answer. Apparently she had gone out, and I thought I would ask Kitty to make me a cup of tea.

I went into the kitchen. Kitty was sitting on a chair dozing. I did not wake her. I was not sure that I wanted to tell Roland and Phillida that I had received a letter from Belinda and discovered that Fergus O’Neill had a brother. It would bring up the subject of the vision. Nor did I want to mention that the information had come through Joel by way of Belinda. But I usually had a cup of tea with Phillida at this time, and the thought suddenly occurred to me that she might be in the herbary, for she spent a lot of time there preparing her herbs.

I went to it and knocked at the door. There was no answer so I opened it and looked in.

I had been in this room very rarely. Roland referred to it as Phillida’s sanctum.

I was immediately aware of the overpowering aroma of herbs. I advanced a few paces.

Bunches of herbs were hanging from a hook on the wall. She was dedicated to the study of them. I suppose it was an interesting subject. There was a desk with a blotter on it and lying close to the blotter was a bunch of what looked like dried sunflowers. My attention was immediately caught by the markings on the blotter because they reminded me of my own name... but looking rather odd because it was backwards. I looked closer. Of course that was how it would come out if blotted. It was as though someone had written my name and blotted it while it was very wet.

Could Phillida have been writing something about me?

My curiosity was aroused. I examined the blotter more closely. There was other writing which I could not decipher, and my own name was below this as it would be had I signed a letter. I was amazed really because what I was looking at was remarkably like my own handwriting.

I felt an urgency to discover what this meant. My senses were suddenly alert. Was it due to the fact that I had heard this afternoon that Fergus O’Neill had a brother and there was a possibility that he might look rather like him and it was he who was playing tricks on me? I had had to abandon that theory because neither Roland nor Phillida had seen him when I had thought he stood below. But what was Phillida writing about me? I had felt afraid since I had heard her speaking to Mrs. Hellman about me. It had shocked me deeply. I knew that she and Roland thought I was hysterical and I understood why, but I had been disagreeably surprised that she should betray this to Mrs. Hellman who was a stranger. I had an irresistible curiosity to discover more, and that forced me to act in a way which I should previously have hesitated to do.

I opened a drawer and looked in it. There were some papers, a pen and a bottle of ink. I looked at the papers on top. They were all blank, I opened another drawer and saw a book about good health and the cultivation of herbs.

Underneath the book were other papers with some wording on them. They were written in that handwriting rather similar to my own. The dreadful thought occurred to me that Phillida had copied my handwriting. There it was... the manner in which I made a sort of curly start to a capital letter and left the tail of my g’s unfinished. I seized on one piece of paper. Horrified I read:

Dear Roland,

Forgive me. I know I am going mad. I have tried to fight against it, but it is no use. Thank you for everything. You have been a good husband to me and Phillida a good friend. But I cannot bear it anymore. You know, as I do, that it is getting worse. I am sure this is the best way out for us all.

Lucie

It was the note of someone contemplating suicide. It was growing alarmingly clear what was happening. Phillida was planning to kill me and make it appear that I had taken my own life.

Terrible suspicions were crowding into my mind. I looked about me. What other secrets were in this room?

I went to the door and locked it from the inside. I was going to find out. It was imperative that I did.

Feverishly I opened all the drawers. There was nothing. There was a chest in one corner of the room. It was locked. I hunted for a key and found one in a drawer of the desk. I had noticed it when I was searching for the papers. It fitted. I opened the chest and looked inside. There were clothes in there ... Phillida’s clothes. I turned them over and then I saw what I had been subconsciously looking for: it was an opera hat and a cloak and with it a dark wig, the hair of which came to a widow’s peak.