The Song of the Siren

I heard the bark again. She was answering me. Not caught in another trap. No, no one would dare put a trap here after what had happened to Rook.

I saw Belle. She was not alone. I gasped with astonishment for she was on a lead and Elizabeth was with her.

“Oh, Damaris,” she said, “I heard you calling.”

“I was on the other side of the fence and I heard Belle. I was afraid she might be in another trap.”

“She has a fancy for this place.” Elizabeth laughed but her manner was different from usual. She seemed nervous and her hair was untidy as I had never seen it before.

She was wearing a dark dress and thick woollen gloves. I noticed that there was mud on her skirt.

She went on speaking rather quickly. “I heard her in this place and I didn’t want any more trouble so I came after her.”

“You brought the lead. Belle’s not used to that.”

She said: “I saw her leave the house and I guessed where she had come. I was determined to bring her away so I brought the lead....”

I supposed that she had put on the gloves because she thought holding the lead with a rather boisterous dog at the other end of it might have bruised her hands.

“I was doing a little gardening ...” she said, as though she had to make excuses to me.

I said: “Poor Belle. She doesn’t like being on the lead.”

“Perhaps I should let her off. Are you going back past Grasslands?”

“I might as well,” I said, “I was just out for a walk.”

So we walked and we talked mostly about the success of the party. We laughed over the charades, and by the time we reached Grasslands Elizabeth was her old relaxed self. But she did not invite me in.

My uneasiness persisted. After my morning lessons the next day I went out again, and once again almost involuntarily I went in the direction of Enderby Hall.

And when I came to the fence I felt an irresistible urge to go into the forbidden territory and look again at the spot where Belle had found the old shoe. I had become adept at scrambling over that gate.

The place was less eerie in the early morning. The sunlight filtered through the trees almost denuded of their leaves by now. I saw two magpies black and white against the sky and a cheeky little robin strutted a few paces ahead of me flicking his tail and his head. I thought sadly that many of the birds would already have left for warmer climes. The swallows, the house martins and my beloved sandpipers.

The oaks were bronze now-the leaves dry and ready to drop.

I came to the spot almost before I was aware of it. There it was. The ground was rough. I went closer. It looked as though it had been recently dug up. Surely Belle had not done all that with her scratching?

I knelt down and touched the earth. It was so still all around me. I suddenly felt an irresistible desire to get away from this spot.

There is something evil here, I thought. Get away. Forget it. Don’t come here again.

I stood up and stumbled away. I did not want to search in those bushes. I felt I might find something there which I would rather not see, that I might discover something which would add to my uneasiness.

My father had been so angry. Why? And why had Elizabeth

Pilkington brought Belle out on a lead? Why had she been so nervous, so full of excuses, so anxious to make me feel that what she had been doing was perfectly normal?

That afternoon Elizabeth came over to see us.

“I have to go to London,” she said. “I may be away for a week or so.” :

“Is Matt going with you?” I asked quickly. I had spoken before I could stop myself.

“No,” she said. “He will stay here. Of course, he will have to go away soon.”

We talked awhile of the successful party she had given and how well staged the charades had been; but I sensed some tension even in Elizabeth. My mother’s nerves were certainly on edge.

Elizabeth left the next day.

I often think how strange it is that we have no warning of events which are going to shatter our illusions and change our lives. I had been so happy after the party.

I was so sure that Matt loved me - perhaps not so intensely as I did him, but I did not expect that. Carlotta’s opinion of me, so often expressed, had so influenced me that I still saw myself as a very ordinary, rather dull and not very attractive creature who must be grateful for every crumb of affection which fell from the tables of the irresistible such as herself.

It was true that I was aware of a heightening of tension, a certain uneasiness about me which had been caused by the discovery of Belle in the trap and the dismissal of the Rooks. But unfortunate as these incidents were, they did not seem to concern me personally.

The day after Elizabeth Pilkington had left, my mother and I were in the stillroom.

She had always taught me her skills in that direction and I had been a good pupil, which pleased her. She had often said: “At least I will make a housewife out of one of my daughters.” Which indicated that she had long despaired of doing so with Carlotta.