The Black Swan

“And you declined?”

“I knew in time that I did not want to spend all my life in the goldfields. I had already made up my mind that I wanted to come home. I would have persuaded them to pay a visit to England. I thought Tom ought to have treatment in London. But then he died and we found out that the mine wasn’t doing as much as it should... but Henry Farrell stayed on ... and then he asked me.”

“He probably had his eye on the mine.”

“Well, you might expect that. But I wasn’t Tom’s daughter ... only his stepdaughter. But there was no one else and he’d always looked on Leah’s daughter as his. I liked Henry. He was a fine man. If things had been different ...”

“What did he think about your leaving?”

“He was devastated, poor man. Tell me... what do you think about my father?”

“I don’t know very much about him. He’s in the wine business, I think. He goes to France now and then. I believe he has a house in London. We don’t see much of him. I believe he goes to the family in Farnborough quite a lot. They moved from Chislehurst when the Empress Eugenie did. I believe there is a sort of court there.”

“How exciting! I’d love to go there.”

“It’s only a court in exile. Don’t expect Versailles in the time of the Sun King.”

“I wonder if he ever thinks of me. Where does the family live in Farnborough?”

“In a house called The Red House, I believe. I’ve heard Celeste mention it. That would be their parents’ home. I don’t know if he has his own house there. I daresay he moves around too much to want a place of his own.”

“A man ought to be aware of his daughter’s existence. I must get his address and write to him. I wonder if Celeste will give it to me. I fancy she does not want to bring us together.”

“Well, he knows of your existence. If he wants to see you I daresay he will.”

“Some people need a bit of prodding. Give me his address.”

“I don’t have it.”

“I daresay The Red House, Farnborough, would be enough.”

“Why don’t you ask Celeste?”

“I think she might warn him and put him on his guard.”

“Well, if you think it would have that effect, wouldn’t it be better to leave it alone?”

“But I don’t want to leave it alone. I want him to be aware of me. I want to visit the court at Farnborough.”

“Why?”

“I rather fancy moving in royal circles. I am sure everyone must know The Red House, Farnborough. After all, in a way it would be connected with the resident royalty.” Her eyes were dancing with excitement and she brought back many memories of the past.

I knew then that her life in the Australian goldfields had not changed her one bit. She said, “You are looking sleepy, Lucie. I am going now so I will leave you to your slumbers.”

I knew she wanted to get away. In the past, I remembered, when she had made up her mind to do something she would have no delay. It had to be done immediately. I knew she was going off to write a letter to her father.

A few days had passed. There was still no news of Joel. I had to admit that having Belinda in the house did ease the tension to some degree, and that certain melancholy was less apparent. Belinda refused to be sad; and somehow she carried us along with her.

She was delighted with London and I could not help being caught up, to some extent, in her enthusiasm. There were only occasional moments when she slipped into solemnity, thinking of Leah; but it was only a passing sadness and she seemed determined to throw it off quickly.

There was no doubt that she was overjoyed to be back. Even Celeste cheered up a little. She could not help smiling at Belinda’s exuberance. I think she felt mildly intrigued because Belinda was her niece. She had always craved affection which she had never received from her rather formal parents, and as for her brother, I imagined he was far too immersed in his own affairs to think much about his sister. Celeste would have liked to bestow her affections on Belinda; I was a little dubious as to whether that would bring her satisfaction. I knew too much of the old Belinda not to know that she could not give Celeste the affection she craved.

Belinda wanted to see London, she said. She had missed it and so often thought of it. She loved the parks and the shops particularly the latter, I discovered. I went with her one day. We looked at fashionable clothes but we bought nothing.

We went into a tea shop, and over tea and cakes Belinda grew a little mournful and began to confide in me.

“I suppose I shouldn’t have come home,” she said.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “I thought you were so happy to be back.”

“Oh ... I am ... it’s where I have longed to be. But ...” She bit her lip and, shaking her head, went on, “No ... I can’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand. You’re so rich.” I looked at her in surprise. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Well, I know how rich your father was, and most of it is left to you. Just think of that. Anything you want, you can buy. Whereas I ... Lucie, I am poor... terribly poor....”