Changeling

I was astounded. I tried to remember Monsieur and Madame Bourdon and found I could not recall their faces, but I did have faint memories of the younger ones. Celeste and Jean Pascal. Celeste must have been six or seven years older than I. That would make her twenty-three or -four years old now, so she was truly considerably younger than Benedict. And Jean Pascal, the rather dashing young man, must be about two years older than his sister.

“I met them in London,” went on Benedict, “and of course we were immediately interested in the Cornish connection.”

“I see,” I said.

But I could not help feeling a twinge of uneasiness. Why was it that I should feel so about people of whom I had a slight acquaintance rather than complete strangers?

There were several weeks respite. There would be the wedding and then I suppose a honeymoon and after that the new wife might need a little time to put her house in order before we were required to descend upon her.

But as I said to my grandmother, we should prepare the children; she agreed with me and suggested that I should be the best one to do this.

I went to the nursery. It was not lesson time so Miss Stringer was absent. I did not feel she was so important. She could teach anywhere, but to the others Cornwall had been home all their lives and I wondered how they would feel about being uprooted.

Leah was there with the two girls. Belinda was stretched out on the floor doing a jigsaw puzzle. Lucie knelt beside her handing pieces to her. Leah was sitting in the armchair sewing.

Lucie leaped up and ran to me as I entered. Belinda went on with the puzzle.

“Do come and sit down,” said Leah.

Lucie took my hand and led me to a chair. She stood leaning against me.

“I have something to tell you,” I said.

Belinda glanced up from the jigsaw. “What?” she demanded.

“I’ll tell you when you come and sit down.”

Belinda looked at the puzzle as though she were going to refuse.

“All right. If you don’t want to hear, I’ll just tell Leah and Lucie.”

“If it’s important …” she began.

“Belinda doesn’t want to know,” I said, “so come over here and I’ll tell you two.”

Belinda jumped up. “Of course I want to hear and of course I’m going to listen.”

She had a habit at the moment of using “of course” rather superciliously in almost every sentence where it could be worked in and it was a little irritating.

“All right. Come and sit down and you shall hear. We are going away.”

“All of us?” asked Lucie looking fearfully at me.

“You, Belinda, Leah, Miss Stringer and I.”

“Where?” demanded Belinda.

“To London part of the time and partly to Manorleigh. We are going to your father, Belinda.”

For once she was taken aback.

“You are going too, Lucie,” I went on reassuringly. “It will be just the same only it won’t be this house. It won’t be Cornwall.” I pressed Lucie’s hand. “I shall be there, too. It will be our home. Of course, we shall come down here often. It is just that for most of the time we shall be somewhere else.”

“Is that all?” said Belinda.

“Isn’t it enough?”

“Of course, if I don’t like it I won’t stay.”

“We shall see.”

“I don’t like my father,” went on Belinda. “He’s not a very nice man. He doesn’t like me.”

“You have to make him like you … if you can.”

“Of course I can.”

“Well then, we shall look forward to seeing you do it.”

“Of course I shan’t if I don’t want to.”

I turned to Leah. “There’ll be a certain amount of packing to do,” I said.

“Yes,” said Leah. “When do we go?”

“I’m not quite sure yet. We have to wait until he is ready for us.”

Belinda went back to her puzzle.

“Do you want me to help?” Lucie asked her.

Belinda shrugged her shoulders and Lucie settled down beside her.

Leah and I left them and went into the adjoining room.

“Mr. Lansdon is going to marry,” I told her.

“Oh? Is that why …?”

“Yes. When he has a wife he wants to get the family together, I believe.” I could not help adding maliciously: “It is good for his image as an M.P.”

“I see.”

“You’ll be surprised to hear whom he is marrying. You remember the Bourdons? Of course you do. You went up to High Tor to do repairs to their priceless tapestries, didn’t you?”

She looked faintly bewildered.

“Yes,” I went on. “It’s quite a coincidence. Mr. Lansdon met the family in London. They are living mainly at Chislehurst now, I gather. Do you remember Mademoiselle Celeste?”

She had turned away slightly. She seemed a little disconcerted. I supposed the thought of our departure from Cornwall, which was after all her home, had upset her a little. She said quietly: “Yes, I remember.”

“She is going to be his wife.”

“I see.”

“You will know the family better than I do. You were there for some little time working on those tapestries, weren’t you?”

“Oh yes … several weeks.”

“Well, she won’t be exactly a stranger to you.”

“Er … no.”

“Do you think we shall get on all right with her? Mr. Lansdon seems to think she won’t want to interfere in the nursery.”

“No. I am sure she would not.”

“Well, we shall see. I am afraid it’s certain, Leah. Mr. Lansdon insists. After all Belinda is his daughter.”