Twenty-One
‘I see you’ve nearly finished in here, Verity?’ Jack said.
‘Just the crate to unpack, Jack.’ Verity gazed at the particular item, its wood long gone grey with age. Jack had prised off the top of the crate at the outset, but now for Verity was the best part, lifting off the packing straw and discovering the first concealed piece. She would guess – book, map, artefact or something that really was priceless treasure – but there had been none of the latter so far.
‘Would you like to delve into the crate, Jack?’ she said gaily.
‘I’m definitely not interested in its contents,’ Jack said softly, but Verity traced anger in his voice. He took her gently by the arm and led her out of the library.
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, perplexed.
‘I’m afraid there is, Verity, but first I owe you an enormous apology. I’ve looked through the books and maps you’ve painstakingly laid out on the table and found that most of it was valueless junk that my amoral father had added as a cover for what he had really sought. I’m sorry to say, Verity, that among that tatty old stuff, in foreign languages, is pornography, nasty stuff. It doesn’t surprise me that my father would sink to that. I had intended to call in an antique book expert to see if anything might have been valuable. Instead I’ll have it all removed to the farmland and burnt. I’m so sorry all your hard work has been for nothing, especially as I understand you enjoyed it. I’m sorry you had to touch such unsavoury stuff. I should have checked the contents before I asked you to. I feel ashamed to have had that filth lying in the house for so many years.’
‘Oh.’ Verity could not think of anything else to say. She didn’t care about the old books and other stuff she had logged and labelled, but she was profoundly disappointed to learn her time here at Meadows House had come abruptly to an end.
‘I’ve given you a bit of a shock,’ Jack said, ushering her into the drawing room and sitting her down on the sofa near the fireplace. ‘I’ll ring for tea.’
‘I’m not really shocked about your father’s guilty secret, Jack. The only thing that matters is that I’ve really enjoyed working here. The house and gardens are so peaceful and I so like the Kellands and Cathy.’
Jack suddenly gave her a stunning smile, which highlighted his powerful handsome looks. ‘I’m so pleased to hear it because I want you to spend a lot more time here.’
‘Really? You have something else for me to do here?’
Jack sat next to her and took her hand briefly. ‘I have a special job for you to do, Verity. Tea then explanations.’
‘So you want me to help you redesign the look of parts of the house,’ Verity said a little later. They were now standing in front of the staircase. Would she finally be given permission to climb up and look round the first floor? Hoping so, she was curling her fingers into fists.
‘I’ve got tired of a mobile life. I want to be more settled and spend most of my time here, but before that some things need to be changed. I didn’t have the heart to do it before. I had to find someone I could totally trust to do a special job. I’m perfectly confident I can trust you, Verity.’
‘Thank you, Jack,’ she said, sensing her time spent here had somehow been a test that she had passed, but she didn’t mind. She had enjoyed the work, very much liked the house and the staff, and very much liked Jack. She was wholly comfortable with him, there was no pretence in him and she could just be herself, unlike the fraught time she had spent with her fiancé – which seemed so long ago now. ‘I’ll be very happy to undertake any job for you.’
Jack took a long considering look at her. She was lovely, honest and reliable, yes, but she was also great fun and down to earth. He didn’t have to wonder, conjecture, question or doubt. Verity was the one.
‘I’ll take you upstairs to a certain room.’
So there is a mystery upstairs, Verity thought. She was sure she knew what her test had been. Kelland, in particular, had been attentive towards her. Likely he had been ordered by Jack to watch her to see if she would pry and steal away to the forbidden part of the house. Jack knew he could trust her and Verity was proud of her own discretion. She was excited about what he was about to reveal to her, and strangely nervous too.
Jack led her to the last room along the upstairs corridor. ‘This was my wife Lucinda’s room. You’ve never asked about her, Verity. You must have been curious.’
‘I have been curious but it’s not really my way to snoop. I looked at her photograph in the drawing room; she was very beautiful.’
Jack nodded, his heart filling with emotion. ‘She was, she was gorgeous, but she wasn’t really of this world. Just being alive here on earth was a terrible trial for her. She was mentally ill, of course, something that took me ages to admit to and accept.’ Jack told Verity of his first meeting with Lucinda. ‘After I brought her here, which I had to, you’ll understand why, I tracked down her old nanny. Lucinda’s strange behaviour started the moment she passed infancy. In between short times of lucidity she would refuse to mix with other children and spoke mostly to herself and her toys. She would grow frustrated and bang her head and stamp her feet and scream for hours. The servants thought she was possessed by a demon and soon the nanny was the only one prepared to stay. Her desperate parents had her and the nanny taken away to an isolated house in the Hertfordshire countryside. Her parents were killed and her guardian then had her taken to Florence. He kept her in an attic decorated like a playroom – Lucinda, the nanny and eventually a little white dog, Polly. She was only allowed outside for one hour a day.
‘As time went on the nanny was worn down by the claustrophobic conditions and begged to be allowed to return to England. The guardian reluctantly agreed. The rest I learned from the guardian himself. I called on him with the news that his lost ward was safe and sound in the hotel. He wasn’t interested. It was easy to see he loathed having the responsibility of Lucinda, and he was set on putting her in an institution. I’d spent time with her. I was utterly charmed by her. It wasn’t her fault she had an affliction. I offered to take over Lucinda’s care. The guardian willingly accepted and signed her legally over to me. He told me I’d need to ship all her things over to her new home or she would crave them and never cope. Of course that meant a hastily arranged marriage. Lucinda had not officially been declared insane. She trusted me. She called me “My Mr Jack”. I think she thought I was part of a fairy-tale and that I’d got her away from a wicked dark lord. Our ship’s cabin was filled with her dolls. Lucinda was ecstatically happy; she would walk Polly on the deck believing she was living out an adventure. People were besotted with her at first but quickly thought her an oddity and then they thought she was quite mad and shunned her. I had to keep her under wraps then, as it were, make up stories so she wouldn’t take fright. Poor, dear Lucinda.’ He sighed deeply.
‘I’m sorry, Jack.’ Verity found it natural to slip her hand around his. He squeezed her hand gently, and they were bonded in his secret, more than friendship.
He produced a key from his trouser pocket and unlocked the door in front of them. ‘I think you should prepare yourself for a bit of a shock.’ He stepped inside the room taking Verity with him. He shut the door carefully.
‘My goodness!’ Verity gasped in awe. ‘It’s . . . it’s . . .’
‘Not a room for an adult or a child, is it? It’s a carnival, a creepy carnival. It scares me, the peculiarity, the absurdity of it all. It was how Lucinda wanted it, her room arranged like she was in a fairy-tale, a pantomime. Her little bed in the middle of what looks like a stage. Costumes, dozens of costumes for Lucinda to dress up in, even a fairy wand and wings. And all these dolls, there are exactly two hundred and twenty of them here. And there are more. They are in the trunk.’ Jack couldn’t prevent himself trembling as he took Verity along to a sea captain style trunk at the foot of the bed.
Suddenly he wrapped his arms tightly around Verity as if he needed to protect her. ‘I shouldn’t have brought you here. What’s in the trunk is shocking, horrible. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pandered to all of Lucinda’s wishes but I didn’t realize how disturbed she was.’ Turning Verity he looked intensely into her eyes and said in desperation, ‘I should take you out of here.’
‘It’s not what you want, Jack,’ she said soothingly. ‘You’ve brought me here because you trust me to have the strength to face what you had to face. You’ve brought me here because you know I’ll understand.’ Verity was feeling the most nervous of her life but she was ready to face what was inside the trunk, however abhorrent.
Jack had a second key in his hand. It was small and elaborate and had fake rubies on the ring top. Still clinging to Verity he stooped and falteringly unlocked the trunk, then straightened up with a lamenting sigh. Verity gave him an encouraging smile. ‘Go on, Jack, lift the lid.’
‘Thanks,’ he whispered, and Verity felt that although he was drawing on her freely given support, he was becoming more and more drained. Stooping again he threw back the lid. Rather than look into the trunk Verity watched Jack. He had closed his eyes. She waited until he opened them and looked down. ‘Oh no,’ he rasped in a sickly whisper.
Verity knew he had been hoping the horror within the trunk had somehow gone, but it had not. She stared down into the trunk and her whole body gave an involuntary shudder. The trunk was filled with dolls, mostly parts of dolls, their limbs and heads ripped off with ugly force. Red paint had been splashed on them to depict blood. Eyes had been poked out or pushed inwards. Hair had been hacked off. Two dolls had their heads twisted round above string fashioned as a hangman’s noose. Doll torsos had been stabbed and slashed, dabbed with red paint. The dolls’ clothes had been cut, ripped and dripped with red paint. The carnage wasn’t of real people but it was almost as horrifying and gruesome. ‘Oh, my God, when did she start to do this?’
‘Probably not long after I brought her home. I’d noticed a certain doll had disappeared and when I asked her about it Lucinda would laugh and say it had been naughty and she’d punished it. This always coincided with red paint marks found on the table. She’d say she’d been making pictures but there was no evidence of any and I began to wonder what it meant. There were no sharp things kept in her room. Then one afternoon I overheard Lucinda in a rage; she wasn’t shouting or screaming but her tone chilled my soul. I came in and discovered her stabbing a doll with a nail file. I was astonished by her strength. She had gone completely wild and crazy and her eyes were glazed over. Polly was cowering in a corner and I was frightened of Lucinda too then, Verity. I feared if she saw me she would come after me and there wouldn’t be a thing I could do to defend myself even against her slight build. So I hid in the room until her madness seeped away. Then with eyes blank she gathered up the butchered doll and put it in this trunk and pushed it in under the bed. Then she cleaned up the mess, not completely, leaving a touch of paint as if she was leaving a touch of evidence of the terrible thing she had done. After that she lay down on the bed and fell asleep, at once looking like an angel. I couldn’t tear my eyes from her. Lucinda was vulnerable and couldn’t help being ill but she was also dangerous. I would have to watch her ever more closely. Eventually Polly crept on to the bed and snuggled into her.
‘I left the room and ran to the bathroom where I was sick. I’ve felt sick to my stomach every day since, Verity, because the very next day Lucinda went outside and hung herself, and as much as I was horrified and distraught I was glad. I didn’t know how long I could go on shielding her and I was terrified she would hurt Polly or one of the staff. The Kellands and Cathy were brilliant about Lucinda and devoted to her. Cathy would join in her games. She knew instinctively how to treat Lucinda. Lucinda couldn’t have borne being put in an asylum. She didn’t deserve that. If she had not been locked up and kept away from all reality she might have lived some semblance of a normal life. I loved her. It was a strange love, like a father or a brother’s, and I miss her, Verity. I miss the times when she was happy and laughing and running barefoot through the stream. I’m glad she’s at peace now. I’ll never regret knowing her and having her in my life. I miss her and feel I failed her.’
Jack broke down and wept and fell to his knees amid the outlandish nursery scene.
Verity went down beside him and wrapped her arms around him. She gathered his head on to her shoulder. ‘Cry for as long as you need to, Jack. You haven’t been able to grieve and now you can. Cry for Lucinda and cry for yourself. Believe me when I say you didn’t let her down. You brought her freedom and saved her from a terrible end in incarceration. And you brought me here to help and I won’t let you down.’