Gossamer Cord

“And the little mite slept through it all.”

It seemed a long time before Gordon joined us. He looked pale and anxious. Nanny Crabtree brought a chair for him. He sat down and looked from one to the other of us almost pleadingly.

I thought: He loves his mother and he is afraid for her.

“I must make you understand,” he said. “I must tell you everything from the beginning in the hope that you will. Of course, there is no excuse. She has attempted to do this terrible thing. For some time she has had one aim in life. She is determined to see me master of Tregarland’s. It has become an obsession with her.

“James Tregarland is my father. He and my mother met long ago. There has been a relationship of long standing. My mother came from a poor but respectable family. She worked in one of the hotels in Plymouth as a chambermaid. My father stayed there now and then and that was how they met. He was attracted by her. He was married, of course, and when my mother was about to have me her parents were deeply shocked. She had disgraced them and they disowned her. My father set her up in a house where I was born. He continued to visit her. I remember, the days when he came. He was interested in me. He used to watch me with an amused look in his eyes, as though he found our situation amusing.

“It was not amusing to my mother. She had been brought up very strictly and was always uneasy about the situation. When my father’s wife died, she thought he might marry her. He did not do so. But it was arranged that she and I should come to Tregarland’s. I know my mother thought this was a beginning, a step in the right direction, and that eventually she would be mistress of the house. Before she had died, my father’s wife had given birth to Dermot.

“I remember the day my mother told me we were going to live in the big house. There was some story about my mother’s being a distant connection of the Tregarland family, in reduced circumstances, which was said to be the reason why she came to keep house. She did this very successfully. But she wanted two things: marriage for herself…and the estate for me. That became the aim of her life. My father knew this. The idea amused him. He liked to keep her on tenterhooks. Would he? Wouldn’t he? He used to tease my mother. I think he may have hinted that I should have had the estate if there had been no legitimate heirs. Well, of course, there was Dermot. Who would have thought that would happen to him? He was young and strong. True, he was not very interested in the place, but it went well enough with my management.

“That was the role my father had decided for me. It irked my mother. I was her son…and my father’s eldest. I had brought prosperity to the estate. Dermot would never have been able to do that, yet it was to be his because I was not legitimate. He could have married her but he would not. I don’t know why he was adamant about that. He was fond of her. I think he liked to keep her guessing. He liked to see how she would act—how we all acted. He was very conscious, too, of the family honor. Perhaps he did not think it would be fitting to marry an ex-chambermaid.

“Please understand. She has lived with this for years. Her hopes would be allowed to rise…and then be dashed. As I said, it had become an obsession. Perhaps if she had talked of it more—not tried to hide it—it might have helped. But she kept it shut away within herself. I alone knew the depth of her feeling, her suppressed bitterness. She would talk vehemently about my rights, but only to me. I have for some time feared for her.”

“You did not think she would attempt…murder,” I said.

He hesitated. Then he said: “Lately…I feared.”

“What of the first Mrs. Tregarland?”

“I know nothing of that. She went for a swim which was foolish in her condition.”

“And Dermot?”

He hesitated again. “I…I did not speak to her of that. I think I preferred to assure myself that he died by his own hand. He was very depressed and guessed he would never be able to walk properly again. There seemed reason for him to take his life.”

“And now…?”

“There is only the child left now.

Nanny Crabtree listened without speaking.

“What will happen now?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” said Gordon helplessly. “We shall have to wait. I will call the doctor to her first thing in the morning.”

“You will have to tell him what happened?”

“Yes, I think he will have to be told everything.”

“What do you think will happen to her?”

“They give people some sort of treatment. There have been lots of advances in dealing with it. I think she desperately needs psychiatric treatment.”

“So we must wait until the morning. I am so sorry for you, Gordon.”

He smiled at me mournfully. “It had to come. I was not altogether unprepared. I knew she would have to go away sooner or later. After tonight, I feel she will have to have some sort of care.”

The clock in Nanny’s room chimed two.