The Song of the Siren

“Oh, there you are, Carlotta. I knew you were out. I was beginning to grow anxious.”

I wanted to shout: Leave me alone. Do not watch me and worry about me. Instead I said coldly: “I can take care of myself.”

I hesitated a moment and then went on: “I don’t think I want to sell Enderby after all.”

There was consternation at my decision. My grandfather said it was absurd that a chit of a girl should have a say in such matters. The house was neither use nor ornament and should be sold. My grandmother, I think, agreed with my grandfather; Leigh was tolerant and said it was my affair, and Priscilla, of course, started to worry about my strangeness in the matter. She knew it was something to do with Beau and she was upset because she had begun to think I was getting over that affair.

I sent a messenger to Mistress Pilkington at Crowhill to tell her that I had changed my mind. She sent back the key with a message that she was disappointed but understood how difficult I found it to part with such a house.

Christmas was coming and there was the usual bustle of preparation. Priscilla did all she could to arouse my interest; but I knew that I was difficult. My temper burst out at the least provocation, and Sally Nullens said I was like a bear with a sore head. Harriet sent a message to say that she, Gregory and Benjie would be joining us. We either spent Christmas at the Abbas or they came to Eversleigh. My grandmother insisted. She was very fond of Harriet; they after all had been friends almost all their lives and had met in France before the Restoration. My grandmother sometimes showed a certain asperity towards her, which seemed to amuse Harriet. Anyone who knew their history would understand it, because for a time Harriet had been Arabella’s rival and Edwin Eversleigh had been the father of Harriet’s son, Leigh, now Priscilla’s husband. We were a complicated family. It had all happened long ago and in Harriet’s eyes should be forgotten. But I could understand Arabella’s resentment towards her.

Then Priscilla had gone to Harriet when I was about to be born. I could imagine Arabella resented that too. However, Harriet stayed at Eversleigh, and there was a very firm bond between her and my grandmother just as there was between my mother and Harriet, and myself and Harriet for that matter. Harriet had played a major part in all our lives and she was like a member of the family. My grandfather was the only one who disliked her and as he was a man who would not bother to hide his feelings, this was obvious. But there again I think he enjoyed his battles with her and I was sure she did. So it was always good when Harriet arrived.

It was the usual Christmas, getting in the yule log, decorating the great hall, giving the carol singers mulled wine out of the steaming punch bowl, feasting and dancing under the holly and mistletoe.

The Willerbys were there of course. Little Christabel was taken off to the nursery by Sally and she and Emily shook their heads and muttered about the less efficient methods employed at Grasslands compared with those at Eversleigh.

As we sat drowsily over the remains of the Christmas dinner, our goblets full of the malmsey and muscadel of which my grandfather was justly proud, Thomas Willerby again raised the question of his giving up Grasslands.

“I don’t know,” he said looking at my mother, “there is too much to remind us of Christabel.”

“We should hate you to go,” said Priscilla.

“And it would be so strange to have someone else at Grasslands,” added my grandmother.

“We’re such a happy community,” put in Leigh. “It’s really like one big family.”

Thomas’s expression grew very sentimental. I guessed he was about to say again that he owed his happiness to the Eversleighs.

Christabel had been my grandfather’s illegitimate daughter. He was a wild man, my grandfather; it always delighted me, though, to see how devoted he was to my grandmother.

Harriet once said: “He was a rake till he married Arabella. Then he reformed.” I liked to think that that was how Beau would have been had we married.

“It is only the thought of leaving you all that has stopped my going before,” went on Thomas. “When Christabel went I knew I could never forget while I was here. There’s too much to remind me. My brother in York is urging me to go up there.”

“Dear Thomas,” said Priscilla. “You must go if it makes you happier.”

“Try it for a while,” suggested Harriet. “You can always come back.” She changed the subject. She was a little impatient of this sentimental talk, I knew.

“Strange if there were two houses for sale,” she said. “Ah, but Carlotta has changed her mind. She is not going to sell Enderby .,. for a while. I wonder what our new neighbors would have been like.”

“Carlotta was rather taken with her, were you not, Carlotta?” said my mother.

“She was very elegant. Not exactly beautiful but attractive with Basses of red hair.

I was very interested in Mistress Pilkington.”

“Pilkington!” said Harriet. “Not Beth Pilkington!”