The Madness (18 page)

Marnie had no doubt that Noah would come. She just had to wait, that was all.

His face was a splash of white in the distance when she first saw him. She watched as he came closer and the outline of him became clearer. Her anger at Ma and Smoaker melted away and she wished she could run to Noah. She wanted to fly the distance between them and feel the realness and warmth of him.

He wasn’t hurrying, though. He had his hands in his pockets and he was strolling for all the world like it was a sunny afternoon. Marnie wanted to shout his name out loud; to make sure he’d seen her waiting there for him. But she bit her tongue and tapped her foot impatiently on the ground.

As he neared her, she raised her hand and waved at him. Her heart was beating so fast she felt bruised with the pain of it. ‘Hello, Marnie,’ he said.

‘Noah,’ she breathed. She felt suddenly shy. The memory of what they’d done the week before pounded low down in her belly and burned in her private place.

‘Are you well?’ he asked her.

Marnie nodded.

‘Good,’ he said. He looked around, then yawned into the back of his hand.

‘Are  …  are you well?’ Marnie asked.

‘Very well,’ said Noah. ‘Yes, thank you.’

He hadn’t looked at her properly yet. And he seemed ill at ease somehow. Perhaps he would be better on the beach, where there were no eyes to spy them.

‘Shall we go for a swim?’ Marnie asked brightly.

‘No  …  no,’ said Noah. ‘I  …  I did not mean to swim tonight. I came to tell you some news.’

Marnie waited, her heart fat with expectation. Had he told his father about her? Was it good news?

Noah hesitated. He reached out for Marnie’s hand and when he took it she was so thankful she gasped.

‘Mother and I are going back to London,’ said Noah. ‘That is what I came to tell you.’

Noah’s fingers squeezed kindly around her hand. They were so cold. She wanted to lift them to her mouth and warm them with her breath. ‘Did you hear me, Marnie?’ he said.

Marnie had heard, but it was as though everything had stopped: her heart, her breath, the winds, the tide. It all stood still and waiting, like frightened deer in a forest. Then in a rush, a wave broke on the shingle and Marnie caught her breath. ‘To  …  to London?’ she whispered.

‘Yes,’ said Noah. ‘We leave on Tuesday.’

‘For ever?’ The word slid slowly and timidly out of Marnie’s mouth.

‘No. Not for ever,’ Noah said. ‘We will be back at Easter for the opening of the pier.’

‘Easter?’ Marnie’s voice cracked. ‘That’s for ever.’

‘Your fingernails,’ said Noah. ‘They are digging into my hand.’

Marnie pulled her hand away and let her arms drop to her side. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered. An ache was growing behind her eyes, a tide of tears threatening to spill. She couldn’t look at Noah or speak.

There was a long silence. Another wave broke lazily on the shingle. ‘I have to go,’ said Noah. ‘I have to get back to the manor now.’ Still Marnie couldn’t look at him. She swallowed the hard lump in her throat.

‘What about me?’ she managed to say as she stared down at her sand-scuffed boots.

‘You?’ said Noah. ‘You will be fine, Marnie. Listen. We are still friends, aren’t we?’

Marnie nodded. They were more than friends, weren’t they?

‘You will come back?’

‘I told you,’ said Noah, his voice growing lighter. ‘I will be back at Easter. It is not so far away. Then we can celebrate the new pier! I will meet you here on the beach, the first night I am back!’

Marnie rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand. Still she couldn’t look at him. Her jaw and eyes throbbed with the effort of keeping her tears at bay. Suddenly Noah leaned towards her and cupped the side of her face in his hand. Marnie blinked hard. Then she felt something soft and warm on her clamped lips. It was light and fleeting and as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Marnie put her fingers to her lips.

‘Goodbye, Marnie Gunn,’ said Noah. ‘Don’t forget to wait for me on the beach.’

Then he was gone. Before she’d even had a chance to tell him there might be a baby in her belly. He was away, across the shingle and back up the beach steps to the esplanade. Marnie stood with her fingers still pressed to her lips. She thought if she moved her hand, the kiss would disappear and she’d have nothing at all left of him.

She walked awkwardly and stiffly towards the sea, her fingers still pressed to her mouth. Her chest hurt. A deep pain twisted around and pulled at her heart. When she reached the water’s edge she let the incoming waves slosh over her boots as she stared far out to where the stars dropped from the sky. Her fingers fell from her mouth. ‘I wish you was here, Pa,’ she whispered. ‘I need you to tell me what to do.’

She put her stick down on the shingle and slowly undressed. First her boots, then her frock, then her shift and lastly her drawers. She dropped the clothes next to her stick and walked without thought into the sea. When she’d gone far enough out, she lifted her feet and began to swim. It was only then that she let the tears come. Hot, painful tears that burned her eyes and made her wail like a stricken cat. She plunged her head under the water and let the salt of her tears mingle with the salt of the sea, until she couldn’t tell which was which.

42

The Journal of Noah de Clevedon

Clevedon. NOVEMBER 9th 1868, Monday

Today was our final day in Clevedon. The weather was crisp and clear with the last golden leaves of the season still clinging to their branches. Mother fancied taking the air, so we took the carriage down to the village (the footmen following behind with Mother’s Bath chair). Clarissa and I took turns in pushing Mother along the esplanade. It is the first time Mother has seen the pier works, so we stood awhile and watched the swarm of workers go about their business. The harsh ring of iron on iron and the constant hiss of the steam-crane soon gave Mother one of her heads, but not before she had fully admired the magnificent spectacle.

I was glad not to come across Marnie during the outing. It was awkward last night on the beach. When I told her of our impending departure she seemed quite distressed. I do hope she hasn’t developed feelings for me, poor girl. Maybe I have been unkind and foolish in encouraging our friendship to such a degree. But she seemed as willing as I, and surely she knows that a friendship between someone of her class and someone of mine can only ever be fleeting? Still, I feel quite wistful for our time together. I will never know another like her, I am certain.

But what is done is done. I was as gentle as I could be. I can only wish her well and remember her fondly. She will have forgotten all about me by Easter, I am sure.

But to now. My trunk is packed. One more night in this bed, then to London tomorrow. I am giddy with excitement.

43

The Handkerchief

Tuesday morning dawned grey and cold. Marnie lay in bed with Ma snoring noisily beside her. There was only one thought in her head. Noah was leaving today.

Marnie was numb with the shock of it. All day yesterday Ma had kept asking, ‘You ailing, girl?’

‘What do you care?’ Marnie had replied as she folded newly pressed shirts into piles on the kitchen table.

‘Suit yourself,’ said Ma. ‘But don’t think I haven’t noticed you haven’t been right since Eldon left. You’re pining, if you ask me.’

Marnie ignored her. There was no point in telling her otherwise. Ma could believe what she wanted.

All night Marnie had lain awake. Going over and over in her head the last minutes with Noah. He’d kissed her, at least. She held on to that, closing her eyes and reliving the touch of his lips on hers. She hadn’t slept a wink. But she knew what to do now. She was going to the manor to see him before he left for London. She had to tell him about the baby. And she had to tell him how much she loved him.

Ma barely stirred. But Marnie wouldn’t have cared if she had. Nothing was going to stop her seeing Noah.

Outside, the early-morning sky hung low and damp. The workers on the beach were already up. Smoke and steam mingled with the sea mist and the clanking of tools echoed across the esplanade. Marnie passed by it all, her eyes fixed on the road up to the manor. She felt strong that morning, and she pushed herself along on her stick with ease. All the way up the road she pictured Noah’s face; the shock, the surprise and hopefully the pleasure when she told him she thought she was with child. ‘And don’t you forget, Pa,’ she said. ‘You’ll be a grandpa too!’

Up ahead there was a distant rumble. Then the unmistakeable sound of hooves on stone and the creaking of leather on wood. Marnie heard the horses snorting before they rounded the corner. Then with a rush of dust and air and heat she was thrown into the hedge as four black horses and a carriage thundered past.

By the time she’d pulled herself back to standing, the carriage was a smudge of gold in the distance. ‘No!’ she screamed. ‘Noah! Noah!’ She shouted his name over and over. Was it too late? Had she missed him?

It couldn’t be.

Not caring about the mud on her frock and the pieces of twig and dried leaves in her hair, Marnie hurried on up to the manor. By the time she reached the long driveway, her face was sticky with sweat and her lungs ached. She leaned against the iron gates and tried to catch her breath. She closed her eyes and let the hammering of her heart slow to a steady beat.

‘You’re the girl from the village, aren’t you?’ The voice came from behind. Marnie opened her eyes and turned her head to see the maid, Hetty, walking towards her with her basket over her arm. ‘You’ve been begging here before. I remember you from the kitchen. With Master Noah.’ She looked Marnie up and down, challenging her with her eyes.

‘I wasn’t begging,’ said Marnie. ‘Me and Noah  …  we’re  …  me and Noah are friends.’

Hetty snorted. ‘I’ve heard about you,’ she said. ‘They say down in the village you’re a bit queer in the head. Always talking to yourself. You let a boy drown too, didn’t you?’

‘That’s what they think,’ said Marnie. ‘But I don’t care what anyone thinks.’

‘So did you?’ asked Hetty, her eyes growing wide. ‘Did you drown him?’

‘No,’ said Marnie. ‘But you can think what you like too.’

Hetty stiffened and set her shoulders. ‘Well, you’d best get away from here anyhow. You’re trespassing, you know.’

‘I’m not trespassing. I’m visiting,’ said Marnie. ‘I’ve come to see Noah.’

‘Thought you said you were friends with him?’ Hetty cocked her head, a glint in her eye.

‘We are,’ said Marnie.

‘Not very good friends, if you ask me. If he didn’t tell you he was going to London.’

‘He did tell me. I know he’s going to London with Lady de Clevedon. And I know they’re coming back at Easter. I just hoped  …  I just hoped to catch him before he left.’

Hetty raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Well, everyone knows
that
,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t mean you’re
friends
. And in any case, you’re too late.’

Marnie groaned and closed her eyes again. A crushing disappointment made her sink to the ground. What was she going to do now?

‘You can’t stay there,’ said Hetty. ‘What’s the matter with you? Get up! Mr Todd’ll have your guts for garters.’

It was so unfair. Marnie thumped her fists on the ground. If only she’d come a bit earlier. Just five more minutes and she would have been in time. Now Noah would be in London for all those months without knowing how much she loved him and without knowing about the baby inside her.

‘Get up!’ Hetty was saying. ‘I’m going to fetch Mr Todd if you don’t get up now!’

Marnie looked up at her. ‘Mr Todd? The butler? He’s an old man, isn’t he? Noah told me all about him. Calls him the Toad, doesn’t he? Fetch him if you like.’

Shock flickered across Hetty’s face. ‘How  …  how do you know all that?’

‘I told you,’ Marnie said, pushing herself to standing. ‘Me and Noah are friends.
More
than friends.’

Hetty’s mouth gaped, like a fish on a slab.

Marnie looked at her hard. ‘I’m telling the truth, you know. But you can believe what you like.’ She turned and limped slowly out of the gateway.

‘Don’t come back,’ Hetty shouted after her. There’s a few of us staying on here till Easter, to keep the place going. So don’t think you can sneak back!’

Marnie didn’t answer. She was picturing Noah on the road, swaying from side to side in the carriage. Being pulled through the day and night by flagging horses. She had no idea how long it took to get to London. When he got there would he sit down to dinner with Sir John de Clevedon and his fancy friends? Would he go to the theatre, perhaps?

Would he be thinking of her? Would he be missing her? Would his heart be hurting as much as hers was now?

Later that evening, with the day’s work done, Marnie lay on her bed and let the stillness of the hour settle around her. She listened out for the rhythmic whisper of the sea. The sound that had kept her safe her whole life, the sound she had always drifted to sleep to. But tonight sleep wouldn’t come.