Gossamer Cord

I looked at him questioningly and he returned my gaze steadily.

“I care what happens to you,” he said. “Perhaps that is why I am particularly sensitive.”

“That is very kind of you,” I replied.

He shook his head. “It is something over which I have no control. All this seems too contrived to be natural, and I am uneasy because you are in the midst of it.”

“Would you feel better if I went home?”

He smiled at me ruefully. “I was not at all pleased when you stayed away so long. In fact, I was definitely displeased. I had rather you came back for reasons other than this one.”

“How I agree with you on that!”

“Get in touch with me…at any time if you need anything. Telephone me. Do you have the number?”

I said I did not and he gave it to me and I put it into my handbag. I felt an uplifting of my spirits such as I had not known since I heard of Dorabella’s death. I was so gratified that he was concerned for me.

I told him then that I had promised my sister that I would look after Tristan if she were unable to be there.

“It was very strange,” I said, “almost as though she knew she was going to die. She made me swear because she did not want anyone else to look after him. So I am here because they would not allow us to take Tristan back with us.”

“That is something I should be grateful for. If they had allowed you to take him, you would probably never have come here again.”

“That might well have been. At least, the visits would be rare.”

He stretched across the table and took my hand.

“I should have had to come to see you,” he said. “You know I would do that, don’t you?”

“Well, no. It hadn’t occurred to me that you would.”

“Well, it does now, I hope.”

“Since you tell me.”

“Listen,” he went on. “I have been thinking a great deal about this. If at any time you need someone to confide in…to help…”

I tapped my handbag and said: “I have your number. I can get in touch with you at any time…and I will.”

I met Seth in the stables. When he saw me his face changed and he looked almost furtive.

“I did tell ’ee, Miss, ’twere so.”

I knew what he meant. He had warned me of the ghost of the sea and I had shown my disbelief. He was now telling me how wrong I was to be skeptical.

“Poor lady, her be gone…her be gone like t’other. Reckon her was beckoned in, this one…not like t’other.”

His words were thick and slurred and it was not easy to understand what he was saying. I often wondered whether he knew himself; but I supposed there was some reasoning in that muddled head of his.

He leaned his big ungainly body against the walls of the stables.

“ ’Ee be wanting Starlight, Miss?” he asked.

I had changed my mind suddenly.

“No, thanks,” I said. “I think I’ll take a walk.”

He nodded and mumbled: “I did tell ’ee, didn’t I, Miss? Didn’t believe me, did ’ee? Poor lady…who’d a thought. She was a laughing lady, she were…just like t’other. They wouldn’t listen. They laughed…but it got ’un in the end.”

“Did you see my sister go down to bathe?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Not that ’un,” he said.

“Then did you see the first Mrs. Tregarland go down to bathe, Seth?”

A cunning look came into his eyes. “No, no. I didn’t see nothing. Ask her…I didn’t see.”

“Ask whom, Seth?”

He turned away, shaking his head, and I saw a certain fear in his eyes.

“I didn’t see nothing,” he went on. “I didn’t. Her just went into the sea like. Nothing to do with I.”

Poor Seth. He really did not know what he was talking about. He was obsessed by the legend. His eyes were worried, his loose mouth slightly, open. He was puzzled, as though trying to understand something, and my question had clearly disturbed him.

He disappeared into one of the stalls and I heard him talking to one of the horses there.

“All right, my beauty. ’Tis old Seth. Don’t ’ee worry…only old Seth.”

I came out of the stables. I had an hour or so before I need go back. Nanny Crabtree was busy in the nursery and liked to be free at this time. If, as she said, she could get the lord and master off to sleep, she would have the time to do what had to be done.

I came out into the fresh air. It was invigorating with a light breeze blowing in from the sea with its salty tang and smell of seaweed.

I took the cliff road to Poldown and no sooner had I reached the little town than I wished I had gone another way.

There were too many people about and, because of my involvement with the Tregarland tragedy, I was an object of interest.

I passed the wool shop. Miss Polgenny was standing at the door.

“Good day to ’ee, Miss Denver. How be you then? ’Tis a nice day.”

Her little eyes were alert with curiosity. I could see the thoughts in her mind. I was the sister of “her that went for a swim and was drowned.” “ ’Twas all part of the curse.”

They believed that—most of them. Their lives were governed by superstition.

“Good to see ’ee, Miss.” That was one of the fishermen mending his nets. I knew that as soon as I passed, he would be talking to the man beside him. “That was her from Tregarland’s. Her sister it were…”

There was no escape.