Gillian started to cough, she leaned forward and her youngest
daughter Gayle rushed forward to clap her on the back. When the fit stopped she
sat back, wiping the sweat from her brow.
"Right children, that's enough for today. Granny is
tired, go on, get outside and play." Gill Jr. was standing over her pale
mother; the children didn’t argue but trooped out of the front door and into
the garden.
"Mum, are you feeling better now?" Gill nodded at
Dawn but motioned to be lifted up. Tomorrow would have to be another day of
story telling, today was not a good one.
xxx
The next two months at Thorngate were uneventful. Rupert was
bedridden and spent most of his days staring dejectedly out of the window. Esme
kindly volunteered to be his assistant; she bathed him and fed him patiently
and lovingly for many weeks without ever grumbling. Esme's heart was mending
slowly, the workload kept her mind off the fact that her beloved Joel was lost
to her forever.
After a month or so, Esme decided to start reading to the
master. She knew of his favourite books and read them to him in her sweet
lilting voice, often late into the night. Through all of this he never
responded to her questions or ideas, it was as if he had given up on life.
Robert had disappeared from Thorngate and when he did show
up one day, it was a day that no one would ever forget…
He walked through the open front entrance and went straight
into the kitchen; he shrugged his worn dirty overcoat onto the floor and made
his way up the stairs. He found his mother reading in the Library but crept
quietly by so that she did not hear him. He went to his father's room and after
shutting the door, found Esme asleep in the big chair next to his bed.
"Well, well..." Esme woke with a start to find his
face only inches from hers, "Isn’t it curious that I find you curled up
like a dog at the feet of the Master, eh?..." His breath was rank with the
smell of decay, his eyes were shining feverishly.
"Wh... What are you doing here Master Robert?" She
contemplated screaming but thought against it.
"I've come back to see how Thorngate is without me
Ess... me..." as he said her name he moved his head slightly so that he
could almost touch her lips with his own. She gagged, his breath made her
stomach turn.
He reached his shaking hand back to slap her, when his hand
was held from behind.
"You leave her be you fool!..." Robert turned a
surprised face up and around to see his Father, standing behind him, gripping
his upheld hand tightly. For although he had been confined to bed, Esme had
kept him well fed and had spent hours rubbing his legs and arms to counter any
muscular atrophy. He was still a strong man and could outmatch his son easily.
"Father..." Robert spread a sleazy smile across
his face, and stepped back from where he was leaning over Esme. "I thought
you were almost..." He grabbed his throat and laughingly made a strangling
motion, "...but I see you are doing fine, and what has our little sweet
Esme been doing to keep you so healthy?" Even innocent Esme understood the
underlying hint and shook her head slowly.
"Esme has done nothing of the sort. She has been more
of a child to me than you ever have! Where were you these last months while I
was sick? You never cleaned me or fed me. You left when I needed you and
perhaps it was a good thing! Go Robert! Leave my house; I will not have you in
it! Go back to your whores and brothels and taverns for its there that you have
made your true home! Now Go!"
Robert turned once more to sneer at Esme; before he left the
room he faced them squarely,
"You will never be rid of me. I can promise you this...
I will have my way." Then he stumbled from the room.
They heard him stagger unevenly down the stairs and walk out
the front entrance. He ran his arm along the side board bringing china plates
and precious glass ornaments crashing to the ground, and then he was gone.
Within minutes Rupert felt weak again and lay down on the
bed shivering, Dawn came rushing into the room and ran to the bed,
"What was that crashing I heard? Is everything
alright?" She looked really worried and was sitting next to her husband
stroking his pale cheeks.
"Yes Ma'am, It was Master Robert, he came back to say a
few words to the Master Rupert but he has left now"
That was the moment Esme knew that the Master loved her. A
few days passed and Esme made a decision, she arrived in the early morning with
a parcel under her arm, it was her violin. She sat in the armchair next to the
bed and started tightening the strings and bow; she slowly lifted the violin to
her chin and started to play her song from Joel. There was no movement from the
bed, only she noticed the figure’s breathing increase as she moved on to the
emotionally charged central theme, and then watched the breathing slow down as
she slowly played out the sad and mournful end phrase. She placed the violin in
her lap and sat with her head bowed and eyes closed, waiting for a response.
The figure remained still. The silence seemed to stretch for an eternity.
Finally the Master turned onto his side arranging the cream feather pillows so
that he could look at Esme,
"Who taught you to play that piece of music,
maid?" he asked gently.
"I taught myself Master, the violin was a gift from a
friend, he provided me with notes and music so that I could learn."
"What is the name of that piece?"
"Master McKinnon wrote it, Sir." She wiped a tear
away from her eye and placed her trembling hand in her lap.
He seemed to struggle with something for a while but a fire
had sparkled to life in his tired eyes, a hunger for music,
"It was lovely Esme… tomorrow I want you to bring me my
blue leather-bound book from the music room. Bring my music stand and my red
violin. Do you understand?" Esme nodded and forced the smile from her
face.
The following weeks were filled with flying violin arpeggios
and the incessant rapping of the Masters baton on the edge of the music stand,
Esme's playing improved dramatically in a short while, and the Master had
something worthwhile to live for.
In the year of Esme’s twenty-first birthday, the older
house-servants began acting very strangely. Mrs. Dodd and Rosalyn often stood
aside and discussed something quite passionately, both disagreeing with the
other. Rupert was still confined to his bed and despite his fervent violin
lessons with Esme, didn’t look very well at all.
One day all of the maids, and the now very frail Smithson,
were called to the kitchen. Mrs. Dodd had a stained brown handkerchief and was
dabbing her eyes. Esme knew that it was not about Rupert, because she had just
finished doing his room and he was fine.
"Could everyone sit down please, there is something
that we need to tell you." The gathering crowd made themselves
comfortable.
The door suddenly opened and their Mistress, Dawn stepped
in, the maids all looked at each other in confusion, some hurriedly rose and
curtseyed.
"Come in Mrs. Edgar-Harrison, Madam." They made a
place for her to sit down; she also had no clue as to why they were all there.
"Now… the news that we have to tell you is very
startling, we have fought for weeks now about it but with the master being
sick..." Rosalyn sighed and then continued, "…and we feel that it is
the right thing to do."
"Many years ago, there was a huge thunderstorm. In the afternoon Mrs. Edgar-Harrison, as you
all might remember the story, went into labour. Now when the baby came into
this world we called for the master and when he saw it he could see that the
baby was not as he said ”right” and we were ordered to be rid of it."
It was here that Rosalyn started to cry and shook her head.
"The sh…shame of ca…carrying around this secret has been a g…great burden
to us Mrs. Edgar-Harrison. When the Master saw the baby he gave it to us and
told us that it was up to us to dispose of it. The baby was sent away, Miss,
but we didn’t give it to the orphanage like we said…we took the baby and gave
it over to a miner’s family. The miner’s wife had lost a small child you see,
and so we knew that the baby would get milk and love from the mother…" She
stopped and looked up at the ceiling, looking down again she said quietly,
"…after a few years maybe three years or so, we went back and retrieved
the child. The child stayed with us in the servant’s commune with the other
young ones. When the child was old enough we brought it to work with us at
Thorngate" There was silence and everyone looked around for further
explanation “…it…it, was such a beautiful child Mrs. Edgar-Harrison"
Dawn stood suddenly and broke her off in a maddened voice,
"Well?! Where is he… she?... tell me Rosalyn, Mrs.
Dodd?... Where is my child?" She looked around madly at the sea of faces
all around her, of the thirty male and female servants her child could have
been any of the younger people.
There was a moment’s silence until Mrs. Dodd spoke up,
"It's Esme, Esme ma'am. She's your lost little
one."
The room swam as Rosalyn’s words made gradual sense, and
Esme landed with a hollow thud on the floor. All the maids rushed to help her
up. She had a small cut on her eyebrow and it was bleeding. Dawn pushed them
all away and pulled her lost child up into her lap, rocking her and murmuring
sweet nothings, she had always wished for a child as sweet as Esme. Her pale
blue taffeta dress became stained with a little of Esme's blood but she didn’t
care, she had her precious daughter in her arms again and that was all that mattered.
When Esme woke she was in a strange room in a strange bed.
Her forehead had a cool compress on it and she felt groggy. As she lay there
the events that led to her fall flooded back, and she lay in the bed with tears
streaming down her cheeks wondering if it were all a dream. From then onwards
things changed for Esme. She was no longer allowed to help with the chores no
matter how much she fussed, she spent her days in the rose garden or at
Rupert’s side. That was the one thing she insisted upon, that she be allowed to
tend to his needs. After about two weeks the decision was made to tell Rupert
of Esme’s true identity, she sat in the overstuffed armchair next to the bed
and smiled slightly as Dodd, Rosalyn, Deliah, Smithson and Dawn all entered and
stood next to the bed like a cavalry line up.
Mrs. Dodd was the first to speak,
“Master Rupert can you hear me!” She spoke so loudly that
the line of supporters wavered for a moment.
“Woman…” Rupert stirred and opened his eyes, growling
underneath his breath. “I’m ill, not deaf!”
Unexpectedly then, he smiled and looked at Esme, “Ah Es’ my
dear, you’re here, always here with me eh? Good girl.” Esme blushed, looked
down, and clasped her hands in her lap.
“Master Rupert” She said “I have something rather startling
to tell you Sir” She fidgeted a bit more and looked straight at him.
“Master, I am yours…” She coughed once and then said, “What
I mean to say is…I only recently discovered that I am, in fact, your daughter.
Mistress…uh, my Mother did not know either, this news was revealed to us only
last week…”
Stunned silence.
Rupert slowly looked from one nodding face to the other and
then back at the now smiling Esme.
“Come again girl, you say you’re what?”
“Your child sir. Your firstborn child”
Rupert’s response had been quite unexpected; instead of
anger he had struggled with the bed covers and leapt up to embrace Esme,
begging forgiveness from all present. Then he seemed to regain some of his
energy and called for a celebration, in his illness he seemed to have forgotten
the past, the wrong doings and such. He was so pleased that he finally had the
child he had always dreamed of. It became alarmingly apparent how much Rupert’s
mind had deteriorated.
When Rupert’s good friend Joseph Branaugh received an
invitation for a ball:
“To celebrate the
Home-coming of
Esme Nyrelle Edgar-Harrison”
He thought he was dreaming.
The evening was surreal, Esme was fitted for the most
beautiful dress, the brown tones of the deep velvet and lace matched her
natural colouring. With her hair adorned with silver and gold she looked
breathtaking. Since Rupert had found out her true identity he had worked
feverishly on her violin playing. He had tutored her in Geography, History and
basic Mathematics. He seemed to have forgotten his own words to Mr. Branaugh,
he was a very proud father. Even though the crowd was lively and the food was
delicious, Esme was still sad, all she wanted was Joel. At the very thought of
his beautiful face and smile her chest tightened and left her breathless. The
memory of his arms around her made her eyes well with tears.
During the evening she was asked to dance with her father,
the crowd stepped back and the music started. She had been taught all the steps
by Dawn and so she moved effortlessly around the floor, at every turn her long
glossy hair swung out and the crowd was in awe of her true beauty, no one even
recalled her as the quiet servant girl. There was really only one flaw in the
enchanting evening, the absence of Joel McKinnon.
It was some weeks
later that Thorngate received an official notice from the Courthouse: Robert
Rupert Edgar Harrison had been sentenced and tried to a life sentence for
thievery, rape, murder, gold smuggling and lastly, running a pick pocketing
ring in London. He was being shipped off to the southernmost colony of
Australia for a lifetime of hard labour. Instead of mourning there was joy in
Thorngate, the only ones to feel sad were Mrs. Dodd and Dawn who grieved the
fact that they couldn’t have made a more marked difference in his life.
Since Rupert’s illness he seemed more unusual than ever, but
instead of cruel eccentricity he had become a kind giver, he was not as strong
as before and his memory was fading faster than cigar smoke, but he was a
pleasure to live with. The London Courthouse delivered a box to Thorngate, one
that was found to be in Robert’s possession. It had few of his belongings in it
and some money that he had accumulated. When Rupert opened it he found an old
red scarf, some torn money, a gold necklace and an old tattered notebook. He
sat himself down in his old stuffed armchair and opened the stained pages before
him. He started to read the crazed writings of his son as a teenager, of how he
lusted after Esme, of how he harassed her, beat her and tried to molest her.
Feeling highly unsettled he turned to the middle of the book and read on,
“Today was a good day, I broke my idiot Fathers prized
violin,
The smelly ancient piece of rubbish with cracked blue
flowers on it. I stood on the stupid thing and broke it as well as I could,
then when father came home I told him that it was Esme who broke it. It was
perfect, Father was so angry that he threw her aside and then allowed me to
beat her, Well worth all the effort, I do so enjoy beating the wench. I do
think she actually enjoys it…”
He sighed and placed his head in his open hands. The memory
of that moment flooded back and he felt such remorse. He had not even taken the
time to get to know his servants, and Esme when she had first started working
for him, it would have just taken some effort on his part. She had pleaded with
him and said she was innocent. If he had known the strength of her character
then, he would’ve beaten Robert and not have had her beaten. He called for her
to come to him.
“…Esme. I have something to say to you.” He looked at the
floor and suddenly looked much older than his years. “I have only in the last
hour realised a serious injustice that you suffered at the hands of your
brother, and myself.” He looked up at her and handed her the book pointing at
the passage he had just read. She read it through once then slowly again. Tears
formed in her eyes and she looked up at Rupert,
“Father,” she stepped forward and placed her hand on the
greying head. “I forgave you before you even touched me. You were misled, as
much as I was mistreated.”
He sighed and reached out to her, she bent to him and they embraced.
“Esme, did he really hurt you?”
“No, not badly Father.”
That night when she undressed she turned and looked at her
bare back in the mirror, the scars from the whipping that day streaked across
her back like a cross-hatch design, some of the scars were welted up and others
were etched deep in her skin. What Rupert didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
Robert’s evil was over and bringing it back through awful memories was not the
answer.
The life warming sun filtered through the stained glass
windows, highlighting the dust that swirled in the breeze from the open windows
into bright primary colours, Esme knelt at the pew in the small chapel on
Thorngate’s property, and prayed. She prayed for the safety of her family, for
the prosperity of Thorngate, and for the safe return of Mr. McKinnon. As she
sat she heard a rustling behind her and turned sharply, it was only Dawn, and
she came and sat beside her, linking her shawled arm through Esme’s and smiling
at her.
“Are you coming up for tea?” She sniffed politely, the nippy
air outside had chilled her nose.
“Yes, I will. Will anyone be joining us today?”
“No, Your Father is not feeling so well, he asked that he
eat alone in his quarters.” Dawn smiled weakly and rose to leave.
“I will meet you in a little while Mother” Esme closed her
eyes once more, her thoughts filled with the hope of seeing Joel return to her.
