Gossamer Cord

Nanny Crabtree said: “I think we ought to try and get some sleep. Miss Violetta, you go to that divan, and as for you…” She looked at Gordon as though he were one of her children. “You should try and get some sleep, too. You’re going to have a lot to do tomorrow.”

He gave us both a pathetic smile, but there was a certain gratitude in it.

“I know,” he said, “that you will both do all you can to help.”

He left us then.

Nanny said: “Poor man. I liked him better tonight. He’s very fond of his mother, I will say that for him. A man who’s fond of his mother can’t be all that bad. Now, I think I’ll make us a nice cup of tea and then we’ll see if we can get a bit of sleep. I was right when I said there’d be a lot to do tomorrow…or today, rather.”

I sat there thoughtfully. There was no hurry. I knew neither of us would sleep.

We took one last look at Tristan. The teddy bear had slipped from his grasp, but he was smiling in his sleep.

The next two days were indeed chaotic. Two doctors came to see Matilda.

She had awakened on that first morning in a bemused state. Gordon was with her at the time. He had sat by her bedside all through the rest of the night, to be sure to be there when she awoke.

She only half realized what had happened on the previous night. She wept bitterly and was in a state of complete mental disorder.

The family doctor came first. He said she needed immediate attention. Then he called another doctor, as was, I believed, usual in such cases; and at the end of the second day, she was taken away. They had to sedate her because she had shown a tendency to violence. Gordon was very sad, indeed, and I was touched because he turned to me for comfort.

He confided in me a good deal and told me that he had been very concerned for her for a long time. He had tried to make her understand that he accepted his position and, because he realized that it was unlikely that he would ever inherit the estate, he had come to terms with that fact.

He loved it and indeed he had complete control of it; and it would be years before Tristan could take it over. He would work with the boy, teach him what had to be taught. He had been content with that.

But it had not been good enough for his mother. She had set her heart on his being recognized as a Tregarland and master of the family home.

“Obsession,” he said. “It can ruin a life…as it has hers.”

“You will see her often,” I said.

“Yes. She will be at Bodmin. I shall go at least once a week. It may be that they will be able to help her. They have all sorts of wonderful treatment these days.”

“I do hope so, Gordon.”

“I shall always be grateful to you,” he replied. “If you had not been there she would have killed the child. I feel it would be something she would never have got over.”

I was thinking then of Annette, for I could not believe that she had deliberately chosen to go into the sea that morning.

I wondered whether there was at least one murder on Matilda’s mind, and whether that had helped her to go completely mad.

James Tregarland was very upset by what had happened. He stayed in his room, and after they had taken Matilda away he sent one of the servants to ask if I would come to his room as he would like to talk to me.

I went to him at once and there I found him like a different person. He seemed old and shrunken.

“Oh, Violetta,” he said. “You have come into a strange household. What are you thinking of us, eh? There has been nothing but trouble. It is strange, is it not? For years we went on peacefully—uneventfully—and then everything erupted like a volcano that has been inactive for years and once it starts cannot stop.”

“A great deal has certainly happened,” I said. “I think one thing has grown out of another.”