What will be: Chapter 4

What will be

Part 4

Excerpts from the Journal of Colin Craven:

Saturday 27^th November, 1908 (around 8:30pm)

I have just got back from speaking with Father, about our sudden reappearance. I had hoped (how much in vain, I don't know), that he would be understanding, and forgiving of our predicament. I will briefly reiterate what happened, if only to put my thoughts in order.

I entered his study, with feelings of trepidation, pushing open the heavy oak doors, and entering at his command. He was seated in his usual position – next to the fire, at his large desk. As usual, it was covered in books and papers, my Father sitting behind them – almost seeming to be putting up a barrier between us. I entered the room, quickly went over and sat down, ready to explain the events that had lead up to our departure from London.

He did not say anything at first, not even to answer my 'Hello Father', as I took my seat. He merely looked me up and down, as if he was really seeing me for the first time. I had come, hoping for sympathy, but something in his cold gaze told me that I was not going to receive any.

At last he spoke.

'So you've decided to show yourself at last.' we sat uncomfortably, then he spoke again: 'What in heaven's name possessed you to do such a thing, Colin?'

'Father, if you will only listen to me, I will attempt an explanation.' I licked my lips, for they were dry. I felt somehow...... nervous..... powerless – emotions I had never felt before in the presence of my Father.

'Very well. Proceed.'

'You see,' I began, 'Some rather unfortunate events happened at the Sutherland's residence.'

'Unfortunate events? Haven't you always told me that the Sutherland's were the most generous, accommodating hosts?'

'Well yes, I have. However, this has nothing to do with me. Something happened to Mary - '

My Father shook his head and looked exasperated.

'And what trouble has she caused this time?'

I felt my cheeks redden, and wondered how I was going to tell him what had happened.

'It..... he – William, that is...... well..... oh Father, it is of a most delicate nature!'

I didn't know where to begin, and was concious of my Father's direct, penetrating gaze.

'Their son?'

'Yes, William. She said...... that on the night of her birthday, he..... he forced himself on her.' I blurted out, then looked away, ashamed.

'He what? I don't believe it?'

'Mary has been most upset about this, Father. She kept to her room for days, barely ate and hardly spoke to anybody. In the end Samantha came to me, and we devised a plan to remove her from the house for her own safety.'

'Her own safety?,' he laughed. 'My son, did it never occur to you that she concocted this very incident merely as a way of returning to Misselthwaite? That it was the only way she could think of of having a valid excuse to return prematurely?'

I swallowed, feeling shame pour over me. I had not thought of that possibility.

'Do you know how much this incident has shamed our family?' he continued. 'Not only have you and Mary run away, but Dr Sutherland's daughter, Samantha, is in your company, I believe.'

'Yes Father.' I whispered.

'And what do you think everyone will make of all this? And of me, Colin? A Father who lets his son and his Niece run wild and do whatever they choose? Who doesn't blink an eyelid when they turn up unannounced at his house, on the back of a Good's cart?' he yelled.

'I just thought it was the right thing to do.' I replied, wishing I could sink into the floor. I had never shamed my Father before, and it hurt, oh how it hurt!

'Well, she may have tricked you into thinking it was the right thing to do,' he replied, his tone softening. 'But Colin, you should have told somebody first. Somebody in authority, like Dr Sutherland, instead of trying to take matter's into your own hands. Now you've left me with no choice. I shall have to send the three of you back to London as soon as is possible.'

'But Mary will - '

'Quite frankly, I am tired of trying to accommodate the wishes of your Cousin. We had enough trouble trying to get her to London in the first place – for her to begin to grow up and act like the Lady she is supposed to be. She is sixteen years old, Colin – sixteen! And yet for all intents and purposes she might as well still be a child!'

'Father, I -' I tried to interrupt.

'Enough!' he shouted dismissively, cutting his hand through the air. 'You will go to your Cousin's rooms and send her up to see me, immediately! I shall tell her myself, that I will not tolerate any more of her lies and deceit. I shall also tell her, that she will be leaving – once again – and as soon as possible. You may go, Colin – and try to act like a man for once, and not a boy.'

I left his study with my head held low, and found myself in the dark passages of the manor. I made my way to Mary's room, my mind in turmoil. I was so sure that she had been in trouble at the hands of William. I had been so certain of it! When she opened the door and I looked into her face, I tried desperately to see the face of a liar – of someone who had manipulated the truth. But all I saw was my cousin's honest, earnest face. I watched her tremble when I told her that Father had insisted he see her, but then see her straighten up stoicly before making her way down the corridor, in the opposite direction. I felt like a coward for not warning her, leaving her to the fate that awaited her behind those heavy oak doors. It is now late, so I shall retire to bed – I fear the next few days are going to be hard to bear.

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Sunday 28^th November, 1908 (early)

I don't know what to make of it. My mind is reeling in disbelief. I arose early this morning and found the following note on the floor of my bedroom, addressed to myself and Samantha. I will transcribe it here:

I have to leave, as I cannot stay here any longer. To stay here would mean to be forced to return to London, and you both know I cannot do that. To do so for me would be worse than dying. Please do not come looking for me, and please delay telling Uncle Archie that I am gone, for as long as possible. Burn this letter once you have read it. Colin, I will send word via Martha when I am somewhere safe. Until then, remember that I Love both of you.

Mary

How could she do this to us? How could she do it to me? Doesn't she understand the sacrifices I've made to bring her here? I am so furious I want to scream!

Later – I have burnt the note – after first shredding it into pieces in a rage reminiscent of my days spent bedridden as an invalid. It is still early, and if I hurry, I may be able to find her and bring her home before all of this gets out of hand. It looks as though it has been snowing overnight, but the weather is now clear. If only she had spoken to me about it, instead of running away – like a thief in the middle of the night.

An image comes to mind just now. Mary's expression when Samantha and I opened the door of our room at the Inn and saw her and Dickon together...... I have no doubt that it is him she has turned to now, For it was always Dickon, and never me! Well, if I hurry, I may be able to find her in time.... and her bring her back to Misselthwaite, where she belongs.