Gossamer Cord

We went to the rooms which we had had for our last visit.

The old man came down to dinner and Gordon Lewyth was there, too. They both said how pleased they were to see us.

The old man was smiling that strange smile of secret amusement which I had noticed before.

“What do you think of the news?” he asked.

“We are delighted,” said my mother.

He nodded, smiling. “We are looking forward to the new arrival, aren’t we, Matty…Gordon? All of us…we can’t wait to see the little fellow.”

“You seem to be sure it will be a boy,” said my mother.

“Of course it will be a boy. Tregarlands always have boys.”

He was laughing to himself, as though it were some big joke.

Gordon asked about my father. I think he was disappointed because he had not come with us.

The old man was saying: “Gordon is especially delighted. He is looking forward already to the little one’s growing up and helping him with the estate. That is so, is it not, Gordon?”

Gordon’s face twisted into a smile.

“You’re looking very far ahead, Mr. Tregarland,” he said.

“It’s always a good idea to look ahead. Well, there is one thing we can be sure of. My grandson will have a good welcome when he arrives.”

Again I had that feeling that there was some sort of innuendo intended, and the uneasiness I had felt during my previous visit came back to me.

We had little time to talk to Dorabella alone, but my mother did corner her and asked the question, “When?”

“November,” said Dorabella.

I was hoping she would join me for a chat, which she would in due course, but I must be patient, it seemed.

My mother said to me, “November. That’s seven months’ time. We shall have to be with her then.”

“We will. They all seem so delighted about it.”

“Families love babies, and this will be the first to be born for years. They won’t have had any babies around for a long time. I am going to ask to see the nurseries here. I’ll get Matilda to show me. I am sure she will be very helpful. Dorabella is not the most practical person. She’ll need looking after.”

“It is wonderful that she is so happy.”

“I hope she will be all right. Pregnancies can be trying times. What about Nanny Crabtree?”

“What about her?”

“For Dorabella, of course. I could see if she were free.”

Nanny Crabtree had played a big part in my youth—and that meant Dorabella’s. Plump, with a double chin, what had fascinated us about her from our earliest days had been a large wart on that second chin from which a solitary hair protruded. We had often speculated about it and wondered why she did not pull it out.

“If she did,” I prophesied, “two more would grow in its place.”

Nanny Crabtree could be stern in the extreme and tell dire stories of what happened to little girls who did not eat up their rice pudding. They never grew up and remained little all their lives; if they made a face over it, God would be so angry with them and He would make them go through life with their tongues stuck out in a hideous scowl. But when we fell over we would fly to her ample lap to be comforted and have plaster or whatever was necessary from her spacious medicine cupboard; and if we were in some trouble which had been brought on through something not our fault, we were told that we were our Nanny Crabtree’s Pet and that was enough for anyone. The mention of her name brought her back clearly to my mind.

“Nanny Crabtree sounds a wonderful idea,” I said.

“And,” said my mother, “we must make arrangements to be here at the time. And in between now and November it would be nice if one of us was here…often. I know that is what she would like.”

I could not sleep that night. It would be all right, I assured myself. November would soon be here. My mother would make sure everything was all right.

Yet I could not rid myself of that uneasiness which settled on me as soon as I was alone.

I lay listening to the sea breaking on the rocks below. It was like whispering voices.

The three of us spent a lot of time together. After all, it was the reason for our coming.

My mother discussed the practical details and we went into Plymouth and bought clothes for the baby and some for Dorabella when she would become advanced in pregnancy. We lunched at a restaurant near the main shops and talked animatedly as we ate as to what would be needed.

“November may seem a long way off now,” said my mother, “but time flies. We must be prepared.”

She had already told Dorabella that she was thinking of asking Nanny Crabtree to come.

Dorabella was amused and she and I went into a long “Do you remember?” conversation which resulted in much laughter as we recalled our childhood adventures with that redoubtable Nanny Crabtree.

Our mother listened with amused tolerance and then she said: “Well, you can trust Nanny Crabtree. She was heartbroken when you girls went away to school. I knew she would come back if she were free. Matilda is quite amenable. I discussed the matter with her, so there won’t be any difficulty there. I shall write to Nanny Crabtree as soon as we get home.”