Will You Love Me in September

"No. We've searched the house. We think she must have gone out. I can't think why and I can't think where. Have you any idea?”

There was a special bond between Smith and Sabrina, as there had been between myself and the man. He was the kind who have little time for adults but a great deal more to spare for children. I had discovered that; so had Sabrina.

"Poor mite," he said. "This is a hard time for her. The mistress ... going. The master as he is ...”

"I'm worried, Smith. So is Nanny. Where could she have got to?”

He said after a moment, "Damon will take us to her. He'll know where the little missee is. Come on, boy.”

Damon was pricking up his ears. He stood very still, as though testing the air, and then he started trotting away from the house. He stopped and looked back at us.

"He's asking us to follow him," said Smith.

I cried out, "Good Damon. Take us to Sabrina, Damon.”

He started to trot in the direction of the church. He paused by the lych-gate which led into the graveyard. Smith opened it and we all went through.

I knew then that Sabrina had gone to her mother's grave.

I saw her first. She was kneeling and her arms were spread out over the earth.

"Sabrina!" I cried. "Oh ... Sabrina.”

She did not move, and for a moment a terrible fear ran through me. I ran to her, and kneeling beside her, turned her body to face me. She was deathly pale and her eyes were wide.

"Clarissa," she said and threw herself at me. I held her tightly. She was shivering.

"Nobody came," she said. "The graves didn't open. I waited ... and it was just the same.”

"We must get her to bed quickly," I said. "She's shivering with the cold.”

Smith picked her up in his strong arms.

"So you left your bed, miss," began Nanny Curlew.

I put a hand on her arm. "Don't scold ... now," I whispered.

Sabrina reached for my hand, and I took it and kissed it. Nanny Curlew said, "We'll soon have you safe in bed.”

Damon jumped up, barking.

"Good dog, Damon," I said. "Damon brought us to you, Sabrina. Let's get going quickly.

It's all right. I'm going to look after you now.”

"Always?" asked Sabrina.

"Always," I said firmly.

Smith carried her back and we put her to bed. She lay shivering while Nanny Curlew warmed up some broth and I wrapped her in blankets.

She said, "Stay with me, Clarissa." So I lay down beside her, holding her tightly in my arms.

I hoped she would sleep but she could not. She drank the broth and nestled close to me, holding onto my hand tightly as though she feared I was going to run away.

"Clarissa," she said.

"Darling, try to sleep. You can tell me tomorrow." She was silent for a while, then she said my name again. "What is it?" I asked gently. "They don't come out." "Who?”

"Dead people in graves.”

"No," I said. "They're at peace. They have finished with the world. They don't want to come back.”

"My mama would want to. She would want to come back for me.”

"She would want you to be happy here.”

"I want to go with her. I wanted one of them to come out and take my heart and make me dead so that I could get into the grave with my mother.”

"Oh, Sabrina," I said, "you couldn't do that. You have to live your life here and make it happy.”

"It won't be now, because ... I killed her.”

"That's nonsense.”

"I did. I did. I went skating and she came and saved me and it killed her.”

"No. It's not like that at all. She was ill long ago, before you were born. She was just ill again.”

"But she wouldn't have been if she hadn't got cold on the ice.

"Listen, Sabrina, we are going to forget all that. It's over. It is what your mother would want.”

"My papa won't forget about it.”

"Things like that happen sometimes. They can't be helped. When they are over, there is nothing to be done but forget them. You're going to forget, Sabrina. I will make you forget.”

"But ...”

"Listen. You went on the ice when you were forbidden to do so. You fell in, and your mother saved you. That was what she wanted. She was ill for a while. Then she was better. Then she was ill again.”

"Was she better?" asked Sabrina.

"Of course she was," I lied. "She was ill before and she had the same illness again.”

"My papa ...”

"He loved your mother dearly. He is hurt and wounded, and when people are hurt, they like to blame people. It's wrong ... but it's human. So be gentle with him ... and stop blaming yourself.”

"You say nice things, Clarissa.”

"I say what's true.”

She was comforted and lay beside me, holding my hand tightly. I stayed with her until she slept. Then I crept quietly away.

The next day I saw Jeremy. He did not want to see me. He didn't want to see anybody.

But I insisted.

I was very shocked by his haggard looks but more, perhaps, by the bitterness of his mouth. Smith had said, "He's gone right back, Miss Clarissa, right back to what he was before he went to France and brought you home.”

He had been a bitter, angry man in those days, railing against fate, living the life of a recluse. Was that what he was going to return to?

"Jeremy," I said, "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I want to talk to you. It's about Sabrina.”