Changeling

“She’s from a family of eight … the eldest, I think. The father is one of those fanatical Bible thumpers. All hell fire and the wrath of the Lord type.”

“Oh, there are a lot of those in Cornwall.”

“They interpret the Bible their way and being by nature sadistic they want vengeance on all sinners which means, of course, people who don’t agree with them. If their sort had their way we should have stakes set up on Bodmin Moor and people being burned to death as they were in the days of Bloody Mary.”

“What happened to the girl then?”

“He threw her out.”

“What had she done?”

“Exchanged pleasantries with one of the cowmen. She must have been heard laughing on a Sunday. Then she was caught, talking with him, we heard, but it might have been something more. In any case she was turned out. Poor child. A sister of Mrs. Fellows took her in and then asked Mrs. Fellows if she could find a place for the girl. Hence she is here.”

“What a lot of trouble these people cause. By the way, this reminds me of Mrs. Polhenny. How is she?”

“Still fighting the good fight with all her might. You’ll see her on that bicycle of hers. It shakes her up quite a bit but it helps her to get round and, as she tells me every time I see her, she’s doing the Lord’s work.”

“Well, I’m glad this girl Madge found somewhere to go.”

“You’ll see her around. She’s the sort of girl who makes herself seen and heard. Well, we’ll talk later on. Just now I think I ought to go down and see what’s happening. We’re going to eat soon and then you can have an early night.”

When she had left me I unpacked, washed and changed my travelling clothes. I went downstairs where the children, freshly washed and combed, were already assembled with the rest of the family for the meal.

Pedrek was at my side. We talked eagerly. He told me how he was progressing at the college and how fortunate it was that it was so near. Being at St. Austell enabled him to get to Pencarron for week-ends, and we should be seeing each other frequently while I was at Cador.

It was a very happy evening and I reminded myself it was a prelude. It was wonderful to be at Cador.

I had not been in my room for more than five minutes when there was a knock on the door and my grandmother came in. This was the usual ritual. Whenever we met after a long absence she would come to my room on the first night and we would have what she called a “Catching-up chat.”

“Well,” I said as she sat in one of the armchairs. “What is the news?”

“I’ll tell you the worst first,” she said. “There’s been an accident at Pencarron Mine. It upset Josiah very much. He’s always had such a record for safety, which is due to meticulous and continual checks. So … although it wasn’t so bad as it might have been, it has upset him.”

“That’s terrible. Pedrek did not mention it.”

“We agreed not to … on your first night, and there wasn’t an opportunity really. It happened six weeks ago. Something caved in. It was possible to get most of the men out, but one was badly hurt, Jack Kellaway. It was … tragic.”

“How dreadful! Was he married?”

“Yes, with one child. A girl of eight or nine. Mary … Mary Kellaway … the poor wife, was distracted. Josiah was in a terrible state. I remember the day the news came through. It was the night shift. It was what happened afterwards which was really so dreadful. Jack Kellaway was so badly hurt that he would never work again. He could just crawl about the cottage. There was no hope for him really. He had always been a good husband and father and it was terrible for him. He could not bear to be a burden. One day when he was in the house alone he set fire to the place and cut his throat. He wanted it to seem as if he had been burned to death. It was something to do with insurance and he thought his wife and child would be better off without him. Some farm laborers happened to be passing and saw the fire and poor Jack’s body was found. It was very sad. The cottage was uninhabitable. His plan had gone wrong.”

“What a terrible story!”

“Josiah is going to see that Mary Kellaway and the girl are all right. The child is Mary too. He’s going to build a cottage for them. In the meantime we had to find somewhere for them to live. There wasn’t anything available except Jenny Stubbs’ old cottage near the pool.”

“So she is there?”

My grandmother nodded.

It was the cottage where Lucie had been born and spent her first years. Once I had been held captive there. I had always felt there was something mysterious about it. It was hardly the place to revive the poor widow’s spirits. I said so to my grandmother.

“I think she was glad to be quiet with a roof over her head and it was the only place. She seems to have settled in there. Oh, I know, it’s rather eerie. It’s that pool really … nothing to do with the cottage. It’s quite ordinary … just like all the others around here. It’s all that talk about the monastery being at the bottom of the water.”

“A lot of people still believe that.”

“Well, the Cornish are notoriously superstitious.”