The Song of the Siren

Carlotta was as beautiful as ever. Benjie adored her and was so delighted to be her husband. It was not so easy to know how Carlotta felt. She had always been unpredictable.

There was a vague restlessness in her which I could not understand. She was the most beautiful girl in any gathering; she had a husband who clearly wanted to grant her every wish; she had a dear little baby, a gracious home; Harriet and Gregory were very fond of her and she had all her life been like a daughter to them. What did Carlotta want to make her happy?

I couldn’t resist asking her once. It was four days after Christmas and I went out walking with Gregory’s retriever when I came upon her sitting in the shelter of a cliff looking out to the Eyot.

I sat down beside her. “You are lucky, Carlotta,” I said. “You just have everything....”

She turned to look at me in amazement. “What has come over our little Damaris?” she asked. “She used to be such a contented little piece. Happy in her lot, ministering to the sick-animals mostly but not above taking a basket of goodies to the ailing of the district goodness and contentment shining from her little face.”

“You always made fun of me, Carlotta.”

“Perhaps it was because I could never be like you.”

“You ... like me! You’d never want to.”

“No,” she said. “You’re right there. What an adventure you had in the wicked city.

Robbed of your clothes and sent out naked. My poor Damaris!”

“Yes, it was terrifying. But I ran into the Pilkingtons and because of that Elizabeth Pilkington is at Grasslands. Carlotta, isn’t it strange how one thing that happens leads to something else which wouldn’t have happened otherwise?”

She nodded and was serious. I could see her thinking of that.

“You see, if I hadn’t gone out to buy violets .. .”

“I get the point,” she said. “No need to elaborate.”

“Well, it just struck me.”

“You like this woman, don’t you? I did when I showed her Enderby.”

“Why did you decide so suddenly not to sell?” I asked.

“Oh, I had my reasons. She has a son, has she?”

“Yes ... Matthew.” ‘

“You like him, don’t you?”

“How ... did you know?”

She laughed at me and gave me a friendly push. “That was the trouble, Damaris. I always know what you’re going to do. You’re predictable. It makes you ...”

“I know,” I said. “Dull.”

“Well, it is nice to meet a little mystery now and then. So Matthew was very gallant, wasn’t he?”

“He brought violets for our mother.”

She burst out laughing.

“Why do you laugh?” I asked.

“Never mind,” she said. Then she stared out to sea and said: “You never know what is going to happen, do you? Right across the sea, that’s France over there.”

“Of course,” I said, a little nettled by her laughter “What’s odd about that? It’s always been there, hasn’t it?”

“Imagine it over there,” she said. “There’ll be a lot of excitement. The old King dying and now the new one.”

“There isn’t a new one. It’s a Queen we have.”

“They don’t think so over there.”

She hugged her knees, smiling secretly.

I was about to remark that she was in a strange mood But then Carlotta was often in a strange mood.

A few days later when I was riding I passed the same spot and there she was seated by the rock staring out to France.

Night in the Forbidden Wood

A year had gone by. I had passed my fourteenth birthday and was now rising fifteen.

The war was still going on. My uncles Edwin and Carl were abroad serving with Marlborough, who had now become a duke. But for the fact that they were engaged in the fighting we should have thought little of it for the war itself did not intrude on our lives.

It was Maytime, a lovely time of the year. After I had finished lessons with my governess, Mistress Leveret, I would exercise my horse, Tomtit; sometimes I would take him to the sea and ride along close to the water. He loved that and it was exhilarating to take deep breaths of air, which we all said was fresher on our coast than anywhere else. There was always a sharp tang in it which, having been brought up with it, we all loved.

Sometimes I rode deeper into the country. I liked to leave Tomtit to drink by a stream while I lay in the grass very quietly watching the rabbits come out to gambol and sometimes voles and baby field mice.

I could watch the frogs and toads and the water beetles for hours. I loved the country sounds and the melodious song of the birds.

One day Tomtit cast a shoe and I took him along to the blacksmith. While he was being shod I went for a walk and that led me near Enderby Hall.

The place had a fascination for me as it had for most people. I rarely went in it.

My mother was always complaining that nothing was done about it; it was absurd to keep the place cleaned and aired for nobody she said. Carlotta must be made to see reason and get rid of it.