Philippa Carr: The Changeling

“What a wicked thing to do!”

“Has he not been wicked? Did he not make his first wife unhappy? He has not cared for his daughter. He has made a little monster of that child. And was he a kind stepfather to you … for all those years?”

“It was largely my fault. He might have been different if I had let him.”

“I can see you are determined to make excuses for him. He should be made to see that there are others in the world beside himself. Oh, I know he has turned over a new leaf. Well, he has been punished. You think he has been punished enough. Perhaps you are right.”

“I wish you would tell me everything … now.”

“You have come at the right moment, Rebecca. You know how fond I am of you. The partnership was not the only reason. I wanted you … and I want to do something for you now. I want to make you happy. I hope your lover comes back to you. I hope you set up that harmonious family atmosphere in Manorleigh and in London. I hope you are able to console your stepfather for the loss of his post. I’ve had my revenge on him, so that score is settled. It was a good one. It harmed him as he tried to harm me. Now I am ready to finish with the business, and you are going to help us out of a rather difficult situation. Celeste is here.”

“Here? In this place?”

He nodded. “She has been here all the time. It was most convenient. You see, the place is empty. At the top is a flat … with kitchen and facilities. It was here when the club was running and was for the manager’s use at those times when he wanted to remain on the premises. It was just what we needed. Celeste had the notion that if she went away … disappeared for a while … Benedict might want her back. She thought it might revive some affection for her. The idea became an obsession. I helped her …”

“Persuaded her to put it into action, I suspect. It suited your plans for revenge.”

“How well you understand! Yes, naturally I was intrigued by the idea.”

“So you helped her make up her mind. You showed her how it could be done.”

He lifted his shoulders. “She fervently believed … at the start … that it would change his feelings towards her. It was what she wanted more than anything. She was ready to go to any lengths to reach that end. I suggested this as a place of refuge … She was enthusiastic about the idea. She smuggled a few essential clothes out of the house. I brought them here. She told her maid she was giving them away to some cottagers. I made this place habitable for her.”

“What a terrible thing to do!”

“Yes. Quite ingeniously worked out, though. But it’s over, and we have to get her out of here. We have to have a plausible story. Not easy … but if you will help, we could achieve that. I know I can trust your discretion. I have thought of a plan and when you see the wisdom of it, you will agree to it, I am sure. We have to think of the press who will be avid for the story. She can’t stay here as the work is to start on the building very soon.”

“When can I see her?”

“When I have told you the plan. You are staying with the Cartwrights. Go back to Benedict’s house and stay a night there. Say you had something to do in your room there … some things you want to sort out … something like that. In the morning, Celeste will return there. She will be dazed and uncertain. She will not know what has happened to her because she has lost her memory. She walked out of the house on that night but she did not know where to. She must have had money in her pocket … enough to enable her to buy a rail ticket to London. She got into conversation with someone on the train … a woman who by chance had a boarding house. She told her she could not remember where she was going. The woman befriended her and she stayed with her some time … she cannot remember how long. She was obviously of good family and the woman believed that in time she would be rewarded—in fact, Celeste had told her this would be so. She merely wanted a temporary refuge while she was trying to remember who she was. She used to walk round the streets looking for her home. She knew she had one … somewhere. Then suddenly, passing Benedict’s town house she recognized it and some memory came back to her. So she presented herself and you happened to be there. You are overcome with joy. You get her to bed. You send for the doctor. As you talk to her some memory comes back and she knows you, of course. You send for Benedict. He comes. Happy reunion. Celeste is back in the family circle and this damning mystery is over.”

I listened with incredulity to all and said: “It is very wild. No one will believe it.”

“You can make it plausible enough.”

“Surely …”

“It is the only way, Rebecca. Imagine the press getting their hands on this. Do not bring more scandal on Benedict. Lost memory is the only answer. Play it carefully as you go along. She has been ill. They’ll probably say it was through his neglect of her, but that will pass, when he shows himself to be the devoted husband. It’s easily done. Loving looks in public … a little pressure of the hands …”

“Take me to her.”

“Follow me.”

He led the way to the stairs and we started to climb. It was a long way up. Right at the top of the tall building we came to a landing. He went to a door and knocked. It was opened immediately and there stood Celeste. She looked pale, thin and very distressed.

She flew at me and we were in each other’s arms.

“Oh, Celeste,” I cried. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Rebecca … it’s been so terrible. I should never have done it.”

“Never mind,” I said. “It’s over. Oliver has been explaining tome.”

He stood by watching us.

“Now we must be practical,” he said. He turned to Celeste. “Rebecca has agreed to help us.”

Celeste smiled at me pathetically and I felt great sympathy for her. I wanted so much to make her life a happy one. I wondered if she and Benedict would be able to forget all that had gone before. I did not know whether that was possible, but at least we could hope.

“Oliver has been telling me how and why you left. We’ve got to forget that, Celeste. You’ve got to come back. Dreadful things have been said in the papers.”

Oliver broke in: “Now we are going to work this out so that our plan is perfect. It must sound right.”

He produced a bottle from his pocket. “There are glasses here,” he said. He went to a cupboard and brought out three. “A little sip of brandy is what we need. Yes, even you, Rebecca. You have had a shock.”

We sat at a table and he poured a little of the spirit into each glass.

He gave me his tender smile. “Celeste,” he said. “Rebecca is going to help us sort this out. I aim for you to get back to your husband’s roof, and there will be a happy reunion. Rebecca wants you all to be as one happy family and as we are fond of Rebecca we must give her what she wants if that is possible. Now listen closely. Rebecca is going back to your husband’s house. Tomorrow I shall take you out in a cab and drop you two streets away. You will then walk to the house and ring the doorbell. Rebecca will let the maid answer it but she will be close at hand. She will show great amazement at the sight of you. She will be a little tearful and very emotional … and certainly bewildered. The house was familiar to you … you were trying to remember … you began to recognize it as your home …”

“I hope this will work,” I said. “It does not sound natural to me.”

“We will make it work. They are not difficult roles to play. It is very important that this should work out. If the press got hold of the truth there would be the most horrific scandal … and great trouble.”