"How are you now, Lou?"
"I'm not sure..." I pause. "Charles hasn't managed to persuade you that I'm mad. Do you think he really believes it himself?"
She looks thoughtful. "I don't know. I think he does, or at least he's convinced himself that he does. He quoted all sorts of learned references ... But, since I've found out about it all, I've wondered whether he overheard what you said in the conservatory that night at Carr Head."
"Mmm, I wondered that, too."
"When I wanted you to come and live with us, he wouldn't hear of it. He said he wanted me all to himself, but of course, now, I wonder ... What if he was afraid you'd influence me, somehow turn me against him, and that's at the bottom of it? I don't know."
Sighing, she looks down at her lap. "It was our first quarrel."
Guiltily I realise I haven't thought about what all this means for her. She seems to be on my side ... How does she feel about Charles now? What has he said about her coming to rescue me?
She raises her head and says quietly. "I should have listened to you."
I've never heard her sound so—so old, so world-weary. "Grace—"
But at that moment the door opens and Aunt Phyllis appears with a serving maid carrying a tray. After the girl has gone, my aunt busies herself, pouring and stirring, offering me a biscuit, which I refuse.
A strained silence follows, during which we occupy ourselves with our tea. Eventually, with a feigned bright look, Aunt Phyllis says, "Lou, you'll be happy to set off early tomorrow morning?"
I put down my cup. This is it. Probably she's planning to take me to some other institution where she'll make sure I'm well treated...
At the thought of it, a kind of horror rises in my throat, but I try to keep my voice steady. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
She flinches as if I've hit her. "But—"
"I won't go to another asylum. I won't be shut up again."
"But I'm not taking you to another asylum! We're going home."
"Home?"
"Yes. To Carr Head."
"No!" I don't trust her.
My aunt sighs, and my cousin gives me a pleading look, but I won't give in, not even for Grace.
We drink some more tea in silence.
Finally I say, "When did you decide I wasn't mad?"
Aunt Phyllis sighs. "When Grace saw your photograph, she spoke so fiercely on your behalf..."
Grace nods. "I pointed out to Mamma that what you wanted was quite natural. You were following in Uncle Edward's footsteps and he'd encouraged you..."
"Dear Edward..." My aunt shakes her head. "You're so like him, Lou. He never would do what anyone thought he should."
For a moment I almost soften, but then she says, "But bringing you up in an unconventional way was perhaps not altogether to your benefit."
I bridle immediately. How dare she criticise Papa? And what would he say if he knew what she'd done? "I'd be quite happy, if only other people would let me do as I want!"
"But, my dear—"
Grace intervenes. "Remember, Mamma, I told you lots of girls nowadays are looking for a new sort of life. In London, I've come across several independent young women, making their own way in the world..."
I'm sure Charles doesn't like that. But I hold my tongue.
"Yes, you did." My aunt frowns, as if the idea is distasteful to her too. "Anyway, Lou, you see, Grace wants—we both want—you to stay with us. You will come, won't you? A little holiday at Carr Head first and then your mother will be glad to see you."
Mamma...
"Does Mamma know where I've been?"
My aunt is clearly startled by this abrupt question. "No ... no, she doesn't."
"Why not?"
She reddens. "Tom and I thought it best not to worry her. She thinks you're still at the Woodvilles'."
I stare at her, astonished, thinking rapidly. I'm glad about Mamma, but—"Surely, after a while, she would have wondered why she hadn't heard from me—why I wasn't visiting her? What were you going to say then?"
Her flush deepens and she looks down at her lap.
There's a long silence.
My mouth has gone dry. What could she say? Apart from telling the truth. Surely she wouldn't have told Mamma I was dead, would she?
Grace is the first to break the silence. "Let's be thankful it hasn't come to that. Let's not think about it anymore."
But I can't shake it off so easily. "You lied to Mamma, and would have gone on telling lies."
My aunt shifts uneasily in her chair. "Remember, I did think you were ill and needed help ... I should have told your mamma, of course. She had every right to know. But..." She gives me a pleading look. "Amelia has never really liked me and since Edward died ... I thought that if I came to her and said that you needed treatment, she would have resented my interference. It seemed best to involve Tom, rather than try to persuade her."
Grace slips from her seat and kneeling beside me, she takes my hand. "Lou, dear, I'm sorry. All this must be very painful for you. Why don't we stop talking about it for now? If you come home with us, we can say more then, if you wish."