The changeling

“I think that he mourns for your mother still. I think she is there ... between those two. It is the last thing your mother would want. She loved him. She would want to see him happy. He has his demons to face, Rebecca, as you do. You should help each other. Oh dear, what am I saying? I am talking about something of which I know nothing which is a silly thing to do. Pedrek will be home from school soon. He’ll be glad to know you are in London.”

“That’s wonderful news. I missed him in Cornwall.”

“Well, school makes a difference, you know.”

“What is he going to do?”

“We’re not sure. He might go to the university. On the other hand he would like to go into business. His grandfather wants him in Cornwall naturally to take over the mine in due course, but his father thinks he needs a spell in the London office with him. We shall have to wait and see.”

“It will be wonderful to have him here.”

“You’ll see him ... often, I imagine. And now, of course, we shall have to get busy. Court dress ... deportment lessons ... dancing. My dear Rebecca, your days from now on will be fully occupied until we get you into that drawing room where you will have to make your curtsy ... without a wobble, mind ... and have become acceptable to London society.”

Then the preparations began. This was what my mother had done some twenty years before.

Morwenna told me that the presentation ceremony was less formal than it had been. In the days of the Prince Consort it had been quite a different matter, with debutantes and sponsors being severely censored to make sure that their families were worthy to come into contact with the Queen.

Time was passing and it would soon be Easter. Pedrek came home for half term which was pleasant. Madame Dupre was past giving deportment and dancing lessons. Her successor was Madame Perrotte, middle-aged, black-haired and sallow skinned, who spoke in mincing tones, over-refined and very precise. I danced with her which was not very inspiring, but I did enjoy the lessons. I sang, too. My voice could naturally not compare with that of Jenny Lind but, according to Madame Perrotte, it was just passable. The lessons took place in the Cartwright home as Morwenna was sponsoring me. When Pedrek arrived there was great rejoicing. Both his parents thought him wonderful - and so did I! There was something so dependable about Pedrek. He always seemed to me in command of his own life. He was practical and not given to flights of fancy; he was kind and considerate to everyone.

Dancing lessons became great fun because he was called in to partner me. Madame Perrotte would sit at the pianoforte and rattle out the tunes to which we danced round and round the drawing room, most of the furniture having been pushed to the sides of the room. Madame Perrotte, one eye on the keyboard and the other on us, would cry out: “Non ... non, more esprit . , , s’il vous plait. That is good, good ... ah, too slow ... too quick ... oh ... oh, mafoi. “ Pedrek and I would be overcome with mirth and the excitement of the dance, feeling almost hysterical with suppressed laughter.

There was my court dress to be tried on; there was deportment and the correct manner to curtsy. It was hard to believe so much had to go into one small gesture. But it had to be right, Madame Perrotte insisted, one false step, one little slip and a girl could be disgraced forever.

Pedrek and I used to laugh about it and I would go into the nursery and show the children how one had to curtsy before the Queen, and how we danced and sang; they listened intently and used to clap their hands when I showed them how I danced in the Cartwright drawing room with Pedrek. They were both practicing curtsies and playing at presentation. Belinda always wanted to be the Queen and she amused us all by her regal manner.

As for my stepfather, if he were looking for a duke or earl to enhance his political career, I did not feel in duty bound to provide it ... even if I could. I had not asked to be presented and if I failed, I simply did not care.

There were three weeks to the great day and Benedict thought it was time for the children to go to Manorleigh. He said that I should go down with them to stay for a week or so, then return. I should feel fresh for my ordeal after the respite and I should have a week or so to prepare myself. Both Morwenna and Helena agreed that it was a good idea. And so it was arranged.

The children were excited. They were going to a big house in the country.

“But it’s not as big as Cador,” Belinda announced.

“No, perhaps not,” I replied. “But it is a big house, and you will be able to ride in the paddock and enjoy it very much.”

“You are coming,” stated Lucie.