Florence and Giles Page 17

  ‘So what happened?’ I hissed, but before he could answer Theo plunged into a fit of coughing, the worst I had ever witnessed him have, so that between coughs his intake of breath was a rasp, like someone sawing wood, or scraping nails on a slate. It teeth-edged me quite.

  Theo took out his spray and gave himself a good puff and the fit eventually quieted. ‘Well, yesterday I was much better and asked if I might go out in the carriage for a drive. My tutor didn’t want to accompany me – he never does, he prefers to swot his life away at his books – and so, once in the carriage, I ordered the man to drive me into town. There I said I wanted to visit the stationer’s to see if they had in any new books and so was able to sneak off to the police station.’

  ‘But you didn’t manage to see Hadleigh?’ I difficulted to keep my voice from exasperating. I so wished it could have been me and not Theo walking those sidewalks; I felt I should not have failed, although in this I was soon proved wrong.

  ‘No, that’s what I’m coming to.’

  ‘But why ever not?’ I knew I was sounding angry but I could not help myself. My brother’s very existence might depend upon this and to be so let down hopedashed me quite.

  ‘Because he wasn’t there!’ Theo snapped that one back at me in the same tone, wormturning at my annoyance with him. Mollified, I held up a finger, for he louded enough for the mirror to hear.

  He lowered his voice. ‘His clerk said he was away working on an important case. He’s in New York. He’ll be gone for a month.’

  A tear stole from my eye and down my cheek, I felt so the frustration of being balked at every turn. ‘Then there is no hope. No hope at all.’

  ‘Wait, Florence, you haven’t heard it all yet. The clerk asked me my business and I mentioned that I was not there on my own behalf but from you, at which the clerk said in that case he had something for you, a letter.’

  ‘Keep your voice down!’ I hissed again. ‘A letter, where is it?’

  ‘Why, inside my jacket. Do you reckon it’s safe to pass it over here?’

  ‘Wait a moment, let me think.’ I looked up at the mirror. If Theo came any closer either my modesty would be compromised or it would obvious he was passing something to me. ‘Listen, where is it in your jacket?’

  ‘In the inner breast pocket on my right-hand side. The tickets are there too.’

  ‘All right, I’m going to speak normally now. When I do, you do just as I ask and I’ll slip my hand inside your jacket and take the letter, OK?’

  Theo wide-eyed at the pleasurable impropriety of this. ‘OK!’

  ‘Theo,’ I alouded, ‘I have slid down on the couch somewhat. I wonder if you would be so kind as to lift me up a little?’

  ‘Why of course, Miss Florence, I shall be delighted to assist you.’ He really did hopeless any kind of subterfuge! Nevertheless, he stood up and, bending over me, got his hands under my elbows and made to lift me up. I slid my right hand inside his jacket, felt instantly the letter and tickets and extracted them, and, as he released me, slipped my booty under my embroidery, it being the last thing anyone in the house had ever evinced any interest in. With Theo between me and the mirror, I managed from there to transfer the contraband inside the bodice of my frock.

  The strange thing was that although all this must have suspicioned Miss Taylor in the mirror, she did not put in an appearance in person. I wondered at this, for she knew Theo had the tickets, and here he was, behaving strangely before her very eyes. It puzzled me quite. It was almost as if she did not care any more about the tickets and made me think that, as she had threatened, she had simply written for and obtained replacements. If this were the case, it suited me, for holding on to the tickets had never been a guarantee of preventing her plan, but rather only to have the proof of its existence. What it also meant was that Miss Taylor had no fear of me, which could only be because she had no knowledge of my visit to Hadleigh or that his visit here had been anything but what it surfaced to be. On the other hand, perhaps now she had no need to fear any aid to me from that quarter, for Hadleigh was apparently out of the picture and would be so until long after she had implemented her plan and awayed my hapless brother.

  Theo stayed with me a couple of hours, during which time, of course, Meg came in, so that we were soon feasting on bread and honey and cakes. No one had sent to fetch Miss Taylor and she chose not to come of her own accord. Were it not for the impending danger and the letter – which of course I could not yet read – burning a hole through my bodice, we might have pleasant afternooned. As it was, it was all too easy to slip from superficialling a remark about this or that, a book or some such, back to the matter which now preoccupied us both, and each of us had at times to stop the other mid-speech, for at some moments we often forgot to quiet before the mirror. It even occurred to me that this might be Miss Taylor’s scheme, to alone us and give us rope enough to hang ourselves by our forgetting we were watched.

  Although we tried to recapture our old jollity, and I think that Theo almost did – because for him, perhaps, all the business with our new governess was but a bit of a game, something he did not truly believe in – there was something strained in our relationship. The fault was mine; I was using him, for I wanted him not so much as a friend that afternoon but as a means of making slow hours pass more quick.

  It eventuated that he had to leave and I aloned my dinner off a little table, not even being able to read as I ate for fear of discovery by one of the servants. Afterward Giles came in and bantered with me for a while, but in truth I did not want his company either but longed for him to be called up to his bed and for John to come to fetch me to mine.

  In the end time passed, as it always will, and John deposited me in my bed. As usual, Mary brought me my nightgown and made to help me change into it, as she had every night of my indisposition, but I told her I did not need her and sent her away. It feared me the letter from Hadleigh might be revealed as she took off my dress. When I quite sured she was gone, I slid the letter and tickets under my mattress, changed into my nightgown, blew out my candle and slipped between the sheets. I had a long wait now until Miss Taylor looked in and then retired for the night – that is, as much as she ever slept the whole night, what with her nocturnal visit to Giles and all.

  After her brief inspection, with no timepiece visible in the dark I counted the long watches of the night by the hoots of my old friend the owl, surely the most inaccurate clock any person ever had, but when I certained it was well past midnight, the witching hour as they say in books, I decided it safe to light my candle and take out the letter. I had been thinking of nothing else these long hours, as well you might imagine, for I had no idea what it might contain. Why should Hadleigh write to me? What could he possibly have to say? I unoptimisted about it, for I feared it would be but a lecture on grief and remorse, that I should read and dwell in my imagination less and get out into the world more.

  Dear Florence,

  I am leaving this letter for you because a special assignment takes me away from my post for a few weeks. I wanted to reassure you that I have not forgotten the business we discussed, although at the time we spoke I had severe doubts for your reason and, had I been a medical man, might have diagnosed a serious case of hysteria in you. For that I now owe you an apology, because although I have to say your feelings about your governess are too fantastical for a sensible body to credit your suspicions, they may not be entirely without foundation. After my visit to you I made immediate contact with the agency that arranged Miss Taylor’s employment as your governess. The first thing that was somewhat strange was that she did not answer an advertisement for the post because they did not place one, relying instead upon the teachers they had already on their books, although Miss Taylor was not one of those. Not only that, but when she contacted them, she was not looking for general employment, but asked specifically about the post at Blithe. The lady I spoke to formed the impression that Miss Taylor had contacted several other agencies as well, to see if the post wa
s one they had been asked to fill. Unfortunately the agency was none too diligent in checking Miss Taylor out. They were so delighted to have someone who was ready to take the post without any haggling as to salary (your uncle, it seems is none too generous in that respect) or other conditions such as wishing to interview the children first and so on, and who moreover knew of the unfortunate circumstances under which the post had become vacant and who did not mind – it seems such accidents not uncommonly discourage many applicants – that they simply offered it to her.

  This in itself would not matter, a bird in the hand and all that, except that, when pressed, they admitted that they were in such a hurry to appoint her, having no other suitable candidate, they took the two letters of reference they had from her at face value and made no further checks. I am now in New York and yesterday attempted to visit the two referees, only to find that the addresses in the letters do not exist. Now for that to happen with one address might be put down to a simple mistake, but two? Something is not right here.

  I suggest you show this letter to Mrs Grouse, who I expect will confront Miss Taylor or may wish to write your uncle about it. He will no doubt want to investigate the matter further and should it prove Miss Taylor has indeed fabricated her history then I am sure she will be dismissed and any bother to you and Giles removed. I hope this clears the matter up for you.

  With all good wishes

  Your friend

  Frank Hadleigh

  I clenched the letter in triumph. I had it! At last I had it, the proof, the ocular proof that I was not some crazy child, but that our new governess was not who she purported to be, but a fraud, a fake. Along with the steamship tickets, it would surely be convincing evidence she was up to no good and enough to persuade Mrs Grouse to order her from the house without waiting to hear from my uncle. I wanted to dance. I wanted to remove the cloth I threw over the mirror every night and pirouette before the evil witch’s very eyes. I no longer cared if she knew what I was thinking, for I had all but won. Giles was safe!

  26

  I could not wait for it to morning. At the very earliest intimation of light seeping in around the edges of the drapes, I hauled myself up so I was sitting on the edge of my bed and, with some difficulty because of my ankle, which, although much stronger now, would still not bear my full weight, managed to pull off my nightgown and replace it with my frock. By the time I had finished this the first lark had sung and it was now light enough for me to reckon it the time when Mrs Grouse would be up and about, which was always before we children and Miss Taylor.

  I concealed Hadleigh’s letter and the steamship tickets inside the bodice of my dress, then hopped across the room to my wardrobe, took a spare chemise from it and hopped to the door. Because I could not walk normally, short of laying me down and dragging myself inch by inch, hopping was my only means of locomotion. It anxioused me that it was so noisy Miss Taylor must hear me bumping around, but it fortuned she did not. There was no mirror in the upper corridor between my room and the staircase, so I did not fear being observed. When I reached the staircase I sat me down on the top step and shuffled my way onto the next and so on and in this fashion I soon downstairsed. With the aid of the newel post at the bottom, I hauled myself upright again and hopped my way to the kitchen, where I found the housekeeper at breakfast with the servants. When I entered they were all laughing heartily at some joke or other, but the laughter stopped as soon as they saw me, for no one expected me to be able to move around on my own, and certainly not to come hopping in upon their meal. Seeing me, Mrs Grouse blushed and hurriedly took her napkin to her mouth, wiping away the smile. It obvioused she was embarrassed; it was bad enough having to eat with the servants, without being caught fraternising with them too.

  ‘Why, Miss Florence,’ she said, ‘what on earth are you thinking of? You know very well you’re not supposed to be on your feet.’ Then, seeing my expression, she said, ‘There’s nothing wrong, I hope?’

  ‘There is a great deal wrong, Mrs Grouse,’ I bolded. ‘And I must speak with you privately right away.’

  Extremely agitated by my tone, the good woman abandoned her breakfast forthwith and had John carry me into her sitting room. He was about to put me down on the couch there but I cried out, ‘No, wait!’, pointed to the mirror on the wall and bade him carry me over to it. He exchanged a baffled look with the housekeeper but nevertheless complied. Once at the mirror, I draped the chemise over it, for this is why I had brought it, which occasioned another puzzled look from John to Mrs Grouse, which she returned with a shrug.

  ‘I do not want her watching us,’ I said to Mrs Grouse as John laid me down on the couch, at which the honest man’s eyebrow began to twitch in a most uncontrolled way.

  Mrs Grouse signalled him to leave us and, soon as he was gone, said, ‘And who might “her” be? Is it someone who lives in the mirror, perhaps?’ Her tone was patronising, pretending she thought my action might be reasonable, which of course, for anyone who did not know what was going on in the house, it was not.

  ‘Miss Taylor,’ I said.

  Mrs Grouse merely stared at me.

  ‘I have some things to show you,’ I said and reached into my bodice and produced Hadleigh’s letter and the steamship tickets. She overed to me and I handed her the latter.

  ‘What are these?’ she said, after studying them a moment or two.

  ‘They’re steamship tickets for a voyage from New York to France,’ I told her.

  ‘Well, I see that. But what’s the meaning of it?’

  ‘I took them from Miss Taylor’s room.’

  She stared at me, both puzzled and alarmed. ‘I don’t think you should have done that, my dear. That’s not at all right. You shouldn’t even have been in her room, let alone have taken things from her.’

  ‘But don’t you see, they’re her tickets.’

  Mrs Grouse frowned. ‘But how do you know what they are, miss, when you can’t read?’

  ‘Never mind that now. The point is, they mean she is planning a trip. A trip for two.’

  ‘A trip…?’

  Really, Mrs Grouse was uncommon slow. ‘Yes, for her and someone else. And look at the date.’

  Mrs Grouse studied the tickets some more. ‘Why, that’s the end of next week. But I don’t understand. She has said nothing to me about leaving. And she could not go next week, for she would have to work out her notice period, which is three months.’

  ‘Ah, but you see she cares nothing for such things. She simply wants to take Giles.’

  ‘Giles?’ Mrs Grouse looked mystified beyond belief, her poor face crying out that this was all too much for her. ‘But why should she want to do that? It doesn’t make sense.’

  At this I stumbled somewhat. For I could not tell her the real reason. I carefulled not to mention my theory that Miss Taylor and Whitaker were one and the same. My action with the mirror had already strained her credulity, although it had necessaried if we were to have privacy away from the governess’s prying eyes.

  ‘I – I don’t know, but I am sure as anything that’s what she intends. Anyway, that’s not all. Look at this.’ And I handed her Hadleigh’s letter.

  It took her some considerable time to read it. When she reached the end, she said, ‘Frank Hadleigh. Isn’t that the police captain?’

  ‘Yes. I – I met him when we went to town to take Giles to the dentist and confided in him my suspicions about this evil woman. As you can see, they were entirely justified, for she has obviously tricked her way into her post. And why should she do that unless it were for some wicked purpose?’

  Mrs Grouse scrutinised Hadleigh’s letter some more and I saw understanding spread across her face, and then a smile. ‘I knew it! I knew from the start there was something not right about that woman. Making me eat with the servants, indeed!’

  She rose from her seat, her face a mask of determination. ‘We’ll see about this. Oh yes, we will, we’ll soon see about this.’

  She brusqued from the room,
leaving me stranded on the couch, and I heard her march to the breakfast room and thrust open the door. Miss Taylor and Giles were evidently not yet there, for I heard her footsteps straightway march back out again and start up the stairs. I desperated to know what was going on and began to struggle to pull myself into a sitting position. It fortuned that Mrs Grouse had left the door open, for as I finally managed to sit up and swung myself round so that I could put my feet to the ground, I heard voices upstairs, from which I deduced that Mrs Grouse had met Miss Taylor and Giles on their way down to breakfast. I could hear Mrs Grouse’s angry tone, but frustratingly could not make out one word of what she was saying. A moment later Giles burst into the room.

  ‘Flo!’ he panted, obviously having run all the way downstairs, his eyes aglow with excitement. ‘You have to come quick. Miss Taylor and Mrs Grouse are having an almighty row!’

  Then he stopped and remembered my ankle. ‘Oh,’ he said. He dashed across the room and offered me his shoulder to lean on, which was so like the old Giles and not at all like the new, uncaring one he had become under our new governess that it eye-watered me quite. I pointed out to him that he was offering me the wrong shoulder, for it was on my good side, and he hurried around me and I leaned on the other one.

  From above we could hear both women’s voices now, the two of them shouting, but at the same time not distinct enough to possible us to understand anything. Giles and I had just outed the door into the hall when there was an almighty crash from above, followed by a thunderous bumping noise, and we were just in time to see the housekeeper come tumbling down the stairs, nearly all the way to the bottom, where her body came to rest while her head seemed to carry on and whiplash onto the cold hard tiles of the hall floor with an almighty crack. She lay there completely still.