Gossamer Cord

“Everything seems to be going well,” she said. “I can’t wait till November. If only we could get Nanny Crabtree there I think everything could be just perfect. Dermot is such a nice young man. I liked him more and more.” She frowned. “Gordon is somewhat…”

I waited while she paused, searching for the word she needed to describe him.

“Overpowering,” she said at length. “Although he says very little, he does behave as though he is the son of the house. Well, I suppose we shall be going down again soon. I think Dorabella would have liked you to stay.”

“Well, I daresay I shall be making the journey back there very soon,” I said.

When I was back at Caddington I saw things differently. My mother was right. Everything was going well.

I thought often of Jowan Jermyn. It would be amusing to see him again. I rather liked the fact that we had to meet…well, not exactly secretly…but to take certain precautions not to be seen too frequently at the same place.

I wondered if Mrs. Brodie had reported that we had called in twice at Smithy’s. It was very probable. It had been tactful of him to suggest the meeting at the Horned Stag.

My father was delighted to see us. He said that he wished Dorabella could come home for a while.

My mother said: “She is at her own home now, and you could hardly expect her to leave her husband. And her husband has an estate to look after.”

“Gordon does that very well,” replied my father. “I don’t think Dermot would be missed all that much.”

It was as near as he could get to a criticism and very unusual with him. It showed how much he wanted to see his daughter.

I missed her, too, but I was sure it would not be long before I went to Cornwall again. I wanted to be with her. Moreover, it was exciting, and a little mysterious in a way, which appealed to my penchant for intrigue. I could not rid myself of the idea that there was something strange about the household, and I felt it would be very interesting to discover what it was. And then, of course, there would be meetings with Jowan Jermyn.

My mother was overjoyed to hear from Nanny Crabtree. She would be free at the beginning of September and would take a short holiday to stay with her cousin in Northamptonshire. She would be ready to go to Cornwall at the beginning of October which would give her a few weeks to settle in before the baby arrived.

We heard from Edward that he and Gretchen would like to come and see us and perhaps stay a couple of weeks. They had a friend who would like to see Cornwall. Should we mind very much if they brought him with them?

“I am sure you will like Richard,” he said. “He is a lawyer and has been a great help to me.”

My mother was always delighted to see Edward and wrote back enthusiastically of her pleasure at the proposed visit.

Edward was now attached to a law firm in London. He and Gretchen were living in the Greenham family house in Westminster at the time but were looking for a house of their own. Edward wrote to my mother regularly so that she could keep in touch with everything he was doing. Although she was only about fifteen years older than he was, he looked upon her as a mother, which was not really surprising, as she was the one who had brought him out of Belgium when the Germans had been invading that country.

They arrived in the early afternoon. Gretchen looked very happy; so did Edward. We were introduced to the friend, Richard Dorrington, a tall, pleasant-looking young man who thanked my mother profusely for asking him.

I could see immediately that she liked him. She told him that Edward’s friends were always welcome.

It was an interesting visit. My father quite obviously liked Richard Dorrington, too—but then he liked most people—yet I did sense a rather special feeling for this young man.

Edward said he was going to show Richard some of the local sights, for Richard, who had lived most of his life in London, did not know this part of the country at all.

Over the first meal Edward talked about the places he had in mind.

“You’d like to see some of these spots again, wouldn’t you, Violetta?” said my mother.

I agreed that I would.

“Robert will be very cross when he hears you’ve been here,” said my mother to Richard. “Robert is my young son. He’s always annoyed because he is at school when we have visitors here. Well, the four of you must go together. You must take Richard to that old Chidam place for lunch. It is really rather fun. Ye Olde Reste House, pretending to date back to the days of Henry VIII when it was actually built about ten years ago. Ye olde Tudor beams—put in all of ten years ago! I expect they have a ghost. Anne Boleyn will appear one day.”

“I don’t think she ever went near the place,” said Edward.

“That’s of no account. They’ll find a way of fitting her in with ye olde Tudor beams. It is really quite amusing with the waitresses in Tudor costumes, complete with lipstick and permanently waved hair.”

“It sounds amusing,” said Richard.

“It is…just for once. You will take him, Edward?”