Changeling

That seemed a remote possibility now. Constituencies had to be nursed and Benedict Lansdon, his eyes on far-off goals, was assiduous in his treatment. And my mother was committed to help him. So it was a question of leaving my mother for my grandparents, or vice versa. At this time I wanted to be with my mother, for since our conversation in the garden I was reaching out for an understanding, and trying hard to cast off my prejudices against my stepfather—which in my heart I was not sure that I wanted to do.

November had come. I thought often of Cornwall. The pool looked eerie at this time of the year when it was often shrouded in mist. I had loved to go there with Miss Brown … never alone because I felt something fearful might happen to me there. So it had to be Pedrek, my mother or Miss Brown. Then I was disappointed because I did not hear the bells which were supposed to be at the bottom of the water. I was a fanciful child—perhaps because my grandfather had told me so many of the legends which abound in Cornwall. In Manorleigh, we were more precise. But at least it had the ghost of Lady Flamstead.

I was in bed one night when my mother came into my room.

“Not asleep, yet?” she said. “Oh good. I have something to tell you.”

I sat up, and she lay on the bed beside me, putting her arm round me as she had done many times before.

“I wanted you to know before it became common knowledge.”

I waited eagerly.

“Rebecca,” she said, “you would like a little brother or sister, wouldn’t you?”

I was silent. I might have guessed that this was a possibility, but I had not done so. It was a complete surprise to me and I was unsure how I felt about it.

“You’d love it, wouldn’t you, Becca?” she repeated appealingly.

“Oh … you mean … there is going to be a baby?”

She nodded and turned to me. I he radiance was on her. Whatever I felt, it was clear that she wanted this.

“I always felt that you would have liked a little sister, but you wouldn’t mind a brother, would you?”

“Yes …” I stammered. “Of course … I’d like that.”

Then I clung to her.

“I knew you’d be delighted,” she said.

I thought about it. Our household would be different. But a brother … or a sister. Yes, I did like the thought of it.

“It will be very young,” I said.

“Just at first … as we all were. I am sure it will be a wonderful child but not quite clever enough to jump right into maturity.”

“When will it be …?”

“Oh, not for a long time yet. The summer … June perhaps.”

“And what does he …?”

“Your stepfather? Oh, he is delighted. He wants a boy, of course. All men do. But I am certain that if it is a little girl she will be just what he wanted. But tell me, Becca, are you pleased?”

“Yes,” I said slowly. “Oh, yes.”

“That makes me very happy.”

“She won’t be my full sister, will she?”

“You’ve made up your mind the baby will be a girl. I suppose that is what you prefer.”

“I … I don’t know.”

“Well, the child will be your half-brother or half-sister.”

“I see.”

“It’s wonderful news, isn’t it? Everyone in the family is going to be so pleased.”

“Have you told the grandparents?”

“Not yet. I shall write tomorrow. I didn’t want to before I was sure. Oh, it is going to be marvelous. Of course, I shall not be able to get about so much later on. I shall be here … at home …”

She held me tightly against her.

She was right. It would be wonderful.

The news was out. My grandparents were delighted. They were going to spend Christmas with us. Uncle Peter thought the news was excellent. The voters liked their members to have satisfactory married lives. They liked to see the children coming along.

Mrs. Emery thought it was good news and Jane and Ann, together with the new maids who had been engaged, were all excited at the prospect of having a baby in the house.

It was wonderful to see the grandparents for Christmas. It was our first at Manor Grange. The house was decorated with holly, ivy, and mistletoe; the yule log was ceremoniously drawn in; Christmas Day was a family affair but on Boxing Day there was a dinner party for Benedict’s important friends in the Party. Mrs. Grant said she was run off her feet, but that was how it should be and she doubted Manor Grange had ever seen such entertaining before, which came of my stepfather’s being the M.P.

“As long as I can get my cup of tea and my little ‘feet-up’ I can cope with it,” she said. And she did, magnificently. Mr. Emery was able to play the dignified butler and Mrs. Emery to show us all that her post of housekeeper was no sinecure.

On Christmas morning we all went to church and walked back across the fields to the house. My grandmother slipped her arm through mine and told me how pleased she was that I seemed to be happier, and added that it was wonderful that I was to have a little brother or sister.