The Black Swan

“All the time I have been away I have been thinking of coming home to you,” he said. “It makes me happy to hear you say that, Joel, but at the same time I am desperately sad because it cannot be. You must continue with your career. I shall go to Yorkshire. It is the only thing we can do.”

“I won’t accept that,” he said.

“You must.”

We sat for a few moments and then I rose.

“Joel, I must go now.”

He said nothing and we walked soberly back to the house.

No sooner was I in my room than Belinda was there.

“You’ve been out with Joel Greenham,” she accused.

“How did you know?”

“I saw you come along the street with him. I saw him take your hand and kiss it.

Oh, Lucie, you look so sad. Are you in love with him?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“How like you! It helps to talk, you know. I might be able to help.”

“You? How?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I would do anything to help you. So would Bobby. Think what you did for us. Are you going to leave Roland and go off with Joel?”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Is it absurd? You only married Roland because you thought Joel was dead. Now here he is ... returned from the grave... and it is obvious how you feel about each other.”

“Is it?”

“The blind would be aware of it.”

“Belinda, leave me in peace.”

She came to me and kissed me. She was surprisingly tender. “I know you think I’m a selfish beast, but I do love you, Lucie. I want to pay you all I owe you. I will one day, you’ll see.”

“Thank you, Belinda. But the best thing you can do for me now is to leave me in peace.”

She went out ruefully, and I continued to brood. To go away with him? What would that mean? An end to his career for one thing, for there would be a great scandal, of course. Scandals had impaired my father’s career and he was not the only one in the family who had suffered in that way. Joel’s heart was in politics and, I supposed, in those secret missions which he undertook from time to time. And myself? How could I hurt Roland who loved me? I knew he did. He was quiet and gentle, but with such people love went deep. How could I deal him such a blow?

And the alternative? To go on as we were. I must say goodbye to real happiness. All through my life I must be prepared to accept a compromise ... a second best. Temptation came. Go to Joel... forget everything else. We had been cheated of our life together. Joel wanted us to take it ... and so did I. But whatever I did, there could not be unalloyed happiness.

If I went with Joel, I should always remember Roland. I would never be able to forget his kind, patient eyes. I could picture his misery when he learned of my defection. Yet on the other hand if I went back to Roland, I would always remember Joel. He would never be out of my thoughts. Whichever way I turned, I could never be truly happy.

I saw Joel again. He came to the house. He was determined to see me, to plead with me.

I met him once more in the Gardens and we sat on the same seat and talked. He asked a lot of questions about Roland and his sister. I explained how close they were, how their parents had been killed in a railway accident and how they had looked after each other ever since. He asked about the wool business. There was so little I could tell him. When I was in Yorkshire I should surely learn more about it. I was not very interested. I could think of nothing but what I was missing; and I was telling myself that I must not meet Joel again lest I found the temptation, to let everything go and be with him, irresistible.

I had been in London for a week and I was thinking that I must go back. Very soon now Bobby and Belinda would be leaving. Celeste wanted me to stay, but she knew that I was in some turmoil and she must have guessed it concerned Joel. Celeste had never intruded-unlike Belinda-and she had always been self-effacing. She was there ... if one wanted her. Dear Celeste! Her life could not have been a happy one. Perhaps, I thought, few people’s are; and it is only the Belindas of this world who are so determined to get what they want that they almost invariably do.

There was a letter from Roland.

“My dearest Lucie,” he wrote,

We are always saying how sorry we are that you are not with us. The search has not been very fruitful. It is amazing how difficult it is to find suitable property up here.