We seemed to be in a huddle. My father and mother were trying to embrace me at the same time; and it was happening like that with Morwenna. Justin stood by smiling.
“My dearest child,” cried my mother. “Oh … Angelet …” There were tears in her eyes. “And this is Rebecca. Oh, what a beautiful child! She is just like you were. Look, Rolf …”
They were both ecstatic.
“Thank God you’ve come home,” said my father.
We were all going to London first to spend a few days there before returning to Cador.
“Everyone in London wants to see you,” said my mother, “so that has all been arranged. Let me take the baby, Angelet. My goodness, you are thin. We’ll have to remedy that.”
My father took the light luggage. The rest was to be sent direct to Cornwall.
And so we arrived in London.
We stayed at the house in the square which was the most convenient. The whole family was there to greet us—Uncle Peter and Aunt Amaryllis, Matthew and Helena with Geoffrey and Peterkin and Frances: Grace Hume came too.
They all kissed me fondly and marveled at the baby.
“I hope you don’t mind my intrusion at this very special occasion,” said Grace. “But everyone is so kind to me that I really feel I am one of the family.”
“It is wonderful to see you, Grace,” I said.
“You must come and stay with us in Cornwall now that Angelet is home,” added my mother.
Amaryllis was cooing over the babies. They were being put together in the old nursery and the servants were vying with each other for the privilege of looking after them.
To sleep in a luxurious bed, to eat graciously, to be back in this world of ease and comfort, was wonderful. But one soon grew accustomed to such things and the dull ache returned.
I thought of Gervaise … dead, and Ben far away … and I felt incredibly lonely.
During the days we were in London my mother was very concerned for me.
She said: “Do you want to talk about it? My poor darling, it must have been terrible for you. He was so very noble. There was a piece in the papers about it. When he heard what had happened Uncle Peter arranged that.” She smiled ruefully. “You know how he likes to squeeze a little advantage out of everything that happens.”
I could visualize the caption: “Relative of Matthew Hume in valiant rescue. The hero who lost his life saving a friend is related to Matthew Hume, the well-known politician …” And I could imagine his thought: This will be worth a few votes.
I said I could talk about it.
“If only you had never gone out there,” said my mother.
“Gervaise wanted it.”
“Yes … I heard about the debts.”
“He thought if he found gold he would pay it all back.”
“Gambling, wasn’t it? So many young men fall foul of that. They have to learn their lesson.”
I did not tell her that Gervaise would never have learned the lesson. He was a born gambler and would have remained so. I wanted her to keep the picture of the gallant hero.
“And he never saw Rebecca!”
“No. But he knew she was coming.”
“Poor Gervaise. My dearest, you will get over it. You are young. At the time these things happen they seem overwhelming.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “I have to get over it.”
“And you have the adorable Rebecca. We are going to take you home. We’re going to take care of you. I don’t know whether you will want to stay in Cornwall … but you need time to sort things out. You have the house here … the one you had when you married.”
“It’s not mine really,” I said. “Uncle Peter has it as a security against the money he lent to Gervaise so that he could pay his debts and go to Australia. That house will belong to Uncle Peter now.”
“He has told us about this and has said that he will waive the debts and the house should be yours when you returned.”
“Oh no … the debts should be paid … to him.”
“Well, your father wouldn’t have it. He has insisted on paying Peter what was owed to him and the house is now yours. You need have no qualms because it is part of the money which would have been yours in any case. But it was generous of Peter to offer. He is a strange man. He has always been kind to me. My mother hated him. There are shady aspects of his life, but he has good points.”
“Most people have two sides to their natures. No one is entirely good … no one entirely bad, it seems to me.”
“Perhaps so. I thought you would like to know about the house. I think Morwenna will probably be coming to Cornwall. The Pencarrons have been talking to us about the future. They have been so wretched … missing Morwenna so much, Mr. Pencarron will make a very tempting offer to keep Justin down there.”
“You mean to work with him?”
“After all, it seems sensible. All they have will pass to Morwenna one day and that will mean Justin. I am sure Mr. Pencarron wants it all for the generations to come and young Pedrek to take over in due course. That’s the sort of man he is. I thought it would be nice for you to have Morwenna near. It will be like old times. Oh, Angelet, I am so happy to have you back. It is desperately sad that Gervaise is not with you … but let’s be thankful for what we have.”
Thankful for what we had! That was what I intended to be.
Morwenna told me that Justin had agreed to go to Cornwall and work for her father.
“It has made me so happy,” she said. “I hated being away from Pa and Mother … and they adore Pedrek. It has all worked out so well for me. If only it could have for you, Angelet.”
“I’ll be all right,” I said. “I have my family around me … and wasn’t it a wonderful welcome home? And there is always Rebecca.”
So I came back to Cador.
Everything had been done to make me happy. There was my old room looking as though I had never left it.
There was a cradle in it. “I thought at first,” said my mother, “that you would like to have Rebecca with you. We’ll get busy when you like, fitting up the nursery. Several of the girls are hoping to be the one selected to look after her. I thought about getting in touch with Nanny Crossley. She was very good with you and Jack.”
“Could we have a little time for a while to think about it?” I asked. “Rebecca is very young yet. I looked after her in Australia … with the help of the local midwife at first … and with all the assistance I get here … I can manage. And later on, we’ll decide.”
“You feel unsettled as yet, I know,” said my mother. “It’s natural. Your father says you need time to settle after all you have gone through in Australia.”
My brother Jack seemed to have grown up while I was away. His welcome was no less warm, if less emotional, than that of my parents. He was now helping a great deal on the Cador estate which would one day be his.
He was very interested in Australia and asked all sorts of questions while my parents listened anxiously, afraid that so much talk would open up old wounds.
Morwenna came to Cador often and I went over to Pencarron. She was very happy. Justin was settling in and her father thought that he was quite an astute business man. Pedrek was an adorable two-year-old … a year older than Rebecca; and they played together happily.
I could not resist going to the pool. It still seemed eerie and the memory of what had happened there was as vivid as ever. I stood on the brink of those dark waters and tried to probe their mystery. All this time he had lain down there at the bottom of the pool which was said to be bottomless.
I rode along the shore to the old boathouse; I went to the town and down to the quay. Nothing seemed to have changed much. The fishing smacks were dancing on the waves; the men were gutting fish and one of the older men was sitting on the stones mending his nets. Mrs. Fenny was at her door. “Good day to ’ee, Miss Angel. So you be back, eh? And brought a little ’un with ’ee. It were a terrible thing what ’appened to that ’usband of yours. Don’t ’ee fret, me dear. ’Tis well you’m back. Going to foreign parts never done no one no good.” There was Miss Grant, crocheting away in the wool shop, coming to call a greeting as I passed. “Nice to see ’ee back, Miss Angelet.” There was old Pennyleg and his barman rolling barrels down to his cellar. “Welcome ’ome, Miss Angelet.” There were furtive looks of commiseration for the widow who had lost her young husband so tragically, and nobly.