“It was my grandparents actually. I was only about fifteen at the time. But I just had this conviction that I couldn’t leave her. I could not have done it, of course, if my grandparents had not been so good. If it had not been possible for me to take Lucie with me they would have looked after her at Cador. But when we came to London my stepfather made no objection to her being with us … and she has been here ever since.”
“If there had been a reason for a child’s lack of feeling of security, one would have thought Lucie might have felt it rather than Belinda.”
“Lucie accepts what she is. She knew that she came into the family in an unconventional way but she accepts me as a mother-sister as a family relationship, I am sure; and she and Belinda are as close as two sisters. There are naturally occasional quarrels, but fundamentally they are fond of each other.”
He took my hand and held it tightly: “I think it was wonderful of you to take the child in,” he said.
“I had a compulsion to do so, as I told you.”
“Yes, you must have had.”
“And I have never regretted it.”
“And if you marry …?”
“I would never marry unless my husband accepted the child.”
I smiled, thinking of Pedrek who understood my feelings. My thoughts had slipped away to the future. We should be so happy. They would all understand about Lucie. There would be no problem as there would certainly be if I had contemplated marrying someone else.
The door was flung open. Oliver released my hand which he was still holding. Belinda stood there.
“You have brought me the clues and you have come to claim the treasure,” said Oliver.
She shook her head. She was near to tears.
“I have five,” she said. “I can’t find the last one. I’ve looked everywhere. Lucie’s nearly there … I want the treasure. It ought to be mine. This is my house.”
“That’s nothing to do with it,” I told her. “This is a game and you have to win fairly. You must not be a bad loser.”
Oliver Gerson held out his hand and she went and leaned against him. He opened her clenched fingers and took out the screwed-up pieces of paper.
“It’s the last one,” she said in heartbroken tones. “I’ve looked everywhere.”
“What does it say on number five?” he asked. He read aloud:
“‘Over the water you must seek
Beside the winged and noble Greek.’ ”
He took her by the shoulders and she watched his lips expectantly.
“You’re not thinking hard enough,” he said. “You know where the water is, don’t you?”
She shook her head.
“Who is the noble Greek?”
“I … I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Who’s got wings on his heels?”
She looked blank.
“Where do the water lilies grow?”
“On the pond.”
“Well, isn’t that water, and what’s above it? The statue, I mean?”
Her eyes widened with joy.
“Well, you know where to find it. So … go and get it.”
When she had gone I said: “That’s cheating. You practically told her.”
“I know.”
“But is isn’t fair to the others.”
“They won’t know.”
“But … Mr. Gerson …”
“Do you think you could call me Oliver? It’s quite a distinguished name really. Oliver Goldsmith, Oliver Cromwell … Oliver Gerson.”
“You’re straying from the point. You cheated.”
“I had to.”
Belinda came rushing into the summerhouse, proudly waving the six clues. “I’ve found them. I’ve found them. I’ve won the treasure.”
He took the pieces of paper from her hand.
“All present and correct,” he said. “You are the first. You have won the treasure. Now we must call in the others and they must witness the presentation.”
We came out of the summerhouse. I was still shaken by what he had done.
He called: “Children of the Treasure Hunt, the treasure has been found. All assemble at the summerhouse.”
Belinda was jumping up and down with glee. Lucie was already running up.
“I nearly had it,” she told me. “I was on the last one.”
The others arrived.
Oliver Gerson lifted the beribboned parcel aloft and cried: “The hunt is over. Belinda is the triumphant one. Miss Belinda Lansdon, the treasure is yours.”
He put the parcel into her hands. Her face expressed her delight. She put the parcel into Lucie’s hands and for a moment I thought she was giving it over to her. But all she wanted to do was put her arms round Oliver and hug him; she kissed him heartily when he stooped to her.
Then she took the parcel from Lucie and held it tightly in her arms.
Never had I seen such joy on her face before. Oliver Gerson had given Belinda the happiest Christmas she had ever known.
For some time Belinda was in a state of bliss. Long after the chocolates were eaten the box, complete with red ribbons, was given a place of honor in the nursery and I often saw Belinda’s eyes rest on it, alight with loving memory.
Oliver Gerson was her hero. It did not seem to occur to her that the method by which she had won the trophy was not strictly honorable. She had won it and that was all that mattered. She may have been helped to it by Oliver Gerson but that only endeared him to her the more. He was, to her, the perfect knight.
I talked to him about the treasure hunt the very next day. I was in the garden when he joined me.
He said: “You are looking at me a little reproachfully. Are you still thinking of the treasure hunt?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Come and sit awhile in the summerhouse. I want to talk and we shan’t be interrupted there.”
As we sat down he said: “Yes, it was not strictly fair, was it? It wasn’t according to ethics. But I am sorry for the child. She interests me. I think she has suffered considerably.”
“All she wants is a normal happy life … with parents who love her.”
“She has lost her mother at birth and her father cannot forgive her for coming into the world at the cost of his wife’s life. It is not the first time such a situation has arisen.”
“It is so unfair to the child. Sometimes I hate him for what he has done to Belinda.”
“He doesn’t mean any harm. He just wants to forget … and she doesn’t help him
“But it is years since it happened.”
“I know. There’s nothing we can do about him … but we can help the child, and that is what I am trying to do.”
“You are succeeding. You have made her very happy, but she should not be led to believe that she can get what she wants by cheating.”
“It is often the case in real life.”
“That may be and it has to be deplored. At least it is not the way a child should be taught. It is really telling her that this is the way to succeed.”
“You are a lady of great virtue, I see.”
“That’s not the point. We are dealing with a child’s impressionable mind. She thinks you are wonderful and what you do will seem to her right. I just feel that—small matter as it may seem to you—it was the wrong way to deal with it.”
“Then I offer my humble apologies to you but I think there are times when the rules can be stretched for the sake of a child’s happiness.”
“Happiness? Every one of those children would have been happy to win. It was a game … a test … a competition … and one of them was helped to the winning post.”
“I give you my word that I will not repeat my folly, and if I had known how you would feel, I should never have done it in the first place. But she so desperately wanted to win … and, poor child, she has her troubles and I just thought I would let her have this small triumph.”