The patch of damp on the ceiling had spread since I was last in this room, the tea-coloured stain making its way to the doorway. I had should have taken better rooms, I could well afford them, but I sought comfort in the familiar, not in decor. There were only two places to stay in Bishopton, the Grand Hotel and the Red Lion, and I could trust in the discretion of the landlady of the Red Lion. The grey light of dawn had woken me, but I had not moved. Instead, I memorised the pattern of the damp, trying to quell the sickness I felt at what I had to do. My heart was awash with misery and shame. Even after dressing, I sat on the bed unable to make myself go downstairs. I cursed myself for this cowardice.
A plucky girl would have been striding through the Main Street by now, walking with a brisk purpose up the hill towards Chestnut Lodge, but I remained cowering in my room. I longed to hear my father's footsteps on the stair, the cheerful knock and see his determined smile once more. That smile, that smile had always given me the courage to rise. Without him, this journey was unbearable, he had always been my stalwart, true and brave. I felt his loss most keenly here, this was the place I always needed him the most. I closed my eyes tightly and summoned the memory of his smile, the love and pain giving me the strength more than any prayer I had uttered.
Chestnut Lodge was as it had ever been, built in the dark stone of the surrounding hills, it did not feel like it had been built, rather that it had stood forever like the rocks and ridges that surrounded it. In contrast to the stone exterior, the walls inside were smooth and stark white, with very little decoration for few it would over-stimulate the residents. I followed Matron, keeping my eyes fixed on the stiff hem of her black dress, rather than acknowledge the rooms on either side of the corridor. I could not ignore the noises though, the babbling, the shrieks and the unnatural laughs. These sounds haunted me. When we reached the final door, Matron looked round to me, her lined face was square and tight.
"She is having one of her more sullen days," she said calmly. "Barely said a word this week. I'll be waiting outside to escort you back to Dr Cleveland for his report."
My tongue felt swollen in my mouth, so I nodded in acknowledgement before stepping through the door to see Her. That is always how I thought of the woman before me, no name, no title but just Her with a capital as though it was all that was needed to describe her.
The greying hair was in a loose top knot, with uneven strands coming down to her shoulders. It hurt to see the once elegant lady so slatternly, but at least it was it combed. When I was a little girl, I had thought she was the most beautiful woman in existence, with fresh rosebuds nestled in her golden hair and gowns of the most fashionable designs, now she was in a plain black gown with dishevelled locks and it brought tears to my eyes. I took a deep breath and stepped further into the room, she did not acknowledge my existence and continued to look out of the window, her hands loosely in her lap. The thin sunlight on her face lit up her profile and her natural beauty, although fading, still remained. I could think of no words to say what I wanted, so I said the first word I had uttered to her.
"Mama?"
My mother did not respond, she remained frozen in her thoughts and I had to remind myself to take another breath. I could have stepped forward, taken her limp hand and said her name once more as I squeezed it gently but that was beyond my strength.
"Mama? It is me, Mary."
There was not even a flicker on her face, it was as though I was not even there.
"Mary," I said again. "Your daughter."
"I know who you are," she said quietly without looking at me.
"I'm sorry that I haven't visited you in a while," I said. "Have you been well?"
Again, there was no response. The dark cloud was over her, my presence was not wanted or unwelcome, it was simply not important. I wished for that numbness as my face flooded red, this time with anger as much of shame. I knew I should not resent her, I should not fear her but I did. The silent woman in front of me was my dark secret, a secret so terrible I had run from it for half my life. Her malady, her madness had dominated my life, with every penny my father had left going on her confinement. We must pay for their discretion, my father had said as he presented himself as a bereaved widower to the outside world, it costs to have peace of mind.
But I did not have peace. I had suffered the indignity of being Agatha Chorley's companion and before that, I had lost the only love that gave me true comfort.
************************************************************
It must have been less than a week after Harriet's eighteenth birthday that I realised how far my mother's shadow cast. It was a miserable day, the rain had been constant and I was trapped indoors with Harriet and one of her moods. Every word I uttered caused her to snap and I grew impatient with her constant sniping. I stood to leave.
"Sit back down," she commanded. "I don't know where you think you are going."
I continued to walk to the door.
"Be a good obedient girl," she said with a cruel sneer. "You'll need to be more obsequious when you are a paid companion."
"I'm not going to be a paid companion or a governess," I protested vehemently.
"Well you won't be living off my parents forever," she said.
"Harriet, you are being very unkind today and I don't like it one bit."
"Oh, I am unkind? You are the cuckoo in the nest, you are the viper."
Despite all her flaws, Harriet was the closest thing I had to a sister and I loved her dearly. The words cut me more than I cared to show, but my cheeks, traitors that they were, burned deeply and I saw her satisfaction at my blushes. I sat down in the armchair opposite her.
"What makes me a viper?" I said, filled with dread.
"Daniel Mourdant," she said watching my face intently. "He told me at my ball that he was in love with you. The very ball where he was supposed to propose."
"Harriet, I..."
"He laughed at me, Mary. He laughed when I told him if the ballroom was too crowded, he could call on me the day after. He said it said it was a ridiculous notion that he would ever want to speak to me in private."
"Harriet, I am sorry but it was foolish to think he would marry you just because your father and his father made a deal."
"It was a gentleman's agreement to combine the estates, in order to satisfy the debts to my father."
"Gambling debts!" I protested. " Love cannot be won in a game of cards."
"But an estate can be and if we do not marry, the Mourdant's will have to pay their debts. Which they cannot do."
"And you would marry a man who doesn't love you? Who is at best indifferent to you?"
"A marriage doesn't need love on both sides, not to begin with," she said cooly. "But it does need to be free from distractions."
"You call Daniel's love for me a distraction?"
"It is your love for him that is a distraction, it gives him hope and you can end it.
"No!" I said fiercely.
Harriet lunged towards me, her hands gripped tightly to the arms of the chair and her face mere inches from mine. There was such hatred in her face that her dark eyes seemed to burn.
"You are mad," I gasped.
"No, madness isn't on my side of the family, is it Mary?" she said with a bitter grin. "We both know where the madness lies... in Chestnut Lodge"
I shrank back in the chair, for the first time in my life I was truly afraid of Harriet. She knew the truth, she knew about my mother. Harriet was fond of rifling through letters and listening at doors, she must have known from hushed conversations overheard between her parents or letters that were sent and now she had in her palm, the deepest secret that I owned. My mouth made the word "no" but no sound came out.
"That is right, my beautiful and perfect cousin," she said. "Your mad mother, such a blight on your life. It would be a pity if the whole world knew, if they knew about her malady and everything else that goes with it."
"Harriet, please" I began to whimper.
"Do you think, do you really think that Daniel would love you if he knew? Of course, he is so noble, he might still marry you valiantly out of pity, ruining himself by being shackled to you. But you know he would wonder, it would be a nagging doubt that maybe the same poison runs in your veins. That the madness would pass to his children, that you would be just like her and..."
"Stop!" I begged, tears streaming down my face.
"You really thought you could marry Daniel?" she said with disgust. "That you could marry anyone with that polluted bloodline."
Every fear I had was brought to the light, the fear that beneath my pretty exterior there could be something dark and sick. Even if I was not cursed with my mother's affliction, the fear of discovery was enough. Harriet saw I was defeated, even if I did not speak.
"Tell him that you cannot love him and you want him to marry me," she said.
"Even if I do that, what makes you think he will marry you?"
"Because he would anything for you, he is a man possessed. Look at how he treats the other young bucks who want to fill your dance card," Harriet said, straightening up. "You'll break his heart and I will mend it. Besides, I have inherited a sizable sum from my grandfather and I am sure my father will be very generous in my settlement."
"Daniel doesn't care about money," I said.
"He will do when love has gone," she said.
Harriet looked down at me, taken in my red-eyes and tear-stained cheeks. There was no softness behind her gaze, despite our closeness it was like looking at a stranger.
"When will you speak to him?"
"Tomorrow, I will leave him a note at the boathouse."
"Oh, so that is where you have been hiding your billet-doux," she said dismissively. "Make sure you burn his letters tonight, I don't want the past to haunt me."
I nodded reluctantly and returned to my room, my tears and my anger not aimed at Harriet but my mother.
************************************************************
My mother was oblivious to all the pain she had caused, she was lost in her own self-pity. I had needed her when my father died, I had needed her when I broke my heart over Daniel and I had needed her throughout my hasty marriage to Fred. I was a motherless child sat in front of my mother. The mother who I adored, the mother who dressed us in matching outfits and who said I was the mirror of her. I wanted to be a child once more, to see her beautiful and healthy, with soft pink roses in her hair that matched the colour of my sash.
Her silence defeated me, to come all this way for a few sentences and not even a glance in my direction. My guilt at being away from her replaced with resentment. She had no interest in me, the girl she brought into this world, the woman I had become. I wanted a reaction, I needed her to notice that I was in the room.
"I don't work for Miss Chorley any more. I was dismissed," I said, watching her face carefully to see if my words made it through the fog of her mind. "She threw me out into the street because she thought I was making designs on her nephew. Poor William."
My words continued, as if a monologue was any substitution for a real conversation. I would tell her my life, even she didn't listen. It was like whispering my secrets into the reeds, without fear that the wind would carry my words.
"I ended up in the bleakest of places, you really wouldn't believe it. I sat there, desperate, wondering what would become of me, and what would become of you if I was not here to pay for Chestnut Lodge," I carried on despite her silence. "It was dreadful, so filthy, wallpaper ripped off the walls and some of the other boarders, well I don't think I even know a word to describe such women."
There was no reaction to this, even if she had heard.
"I was frightened and pretended to myself I was not," I said. "But then I was rescued."
I remember how animated she had been when she read my bedtime stories, the excitement in her face as the tales unfolded. She must have been young, not many years older than I was now and she was so full of life. The faded creature who sat in front of me seemed like a shell of the woman she was then.
"I am married," I said. "I am married to one of the biggest rogues in England, but that marriage saved me."
I took a deep breath and relaxed in the catharsis of my soliloquy. I could speak without fear of judgement because my audience was not listening.
"He is handsome as the Devil and just as charming. I pretend that I don't find him charming and it drives him to distraction. He is so used to breezing through life but I am too stubborn and too smart to lower my defences. He has been the cause of more than one scandal and probably a dozen broken hearts, but he won't break mine, I won't let him."
As I spoke, I pictured Fred with his insolent grin and lively eyes. How happy it would make him to know I was speaking about him, that he had captured my attention like he had captured so many other's notice.
"He is so careless with other people's lives, so fickle and rash but catch him in the right light and he can make you forget there is a world out there. He is just about the most infuriating man in the world and yet when he does something generous and thoughtful, you can forgive him anything. He really is the sort of man you would have warned me about had you not..."
I checked myself, I could not be cruel to Her, the pitiful creature my mother had become. Now my words had stopped, I gave myself time to think about what they had meant. What truth I hardly dared to admit to myself.
"Mary," she said, turning her head slowly to look at me. "You are very in love with this man, aren't you?"
The shock of her speaking not sinking in, I felt myself nodding.
"Yes," I said. "I suppose I am."
Even in Chestnut Lodge, I do not think such foolishness had been uttered before but it was true. Even with his faults laid bare for me to see close up, the deep flaws in his moral character and history, I was deeply, stupidly, passionately in love with Fred. A love stronger than I had ever felt before and it terrified me. There was a faint smile on her lips, soft and uneven.
"What is his name?"
"Mr Frederick Wilkes, but I call him Fred."
"Fred," she repeated as if she had not heard the name before. "I am glad you are in love, you were such an affectionate child."
"It's foolish to love a man like Fred," I said. "He will break my heart before the year is out. It makes me scared, angry and confused."
"Love?" she said frowning.
"Yes, I am afraid that he will never love me and I am also scared that he will love me. Maybe I am mad."
"You? You are not mad. I live surrounded by lunatics and I can see you are quite quite sane," she took my hand gently. "You are afraid that you do not deserve to be loved, but you deserve all the love in the world."
There she was, the sweet angel of my childhood, even if it was just a glimpse of my mother it was enough. I saw her as she once was, wreathed in the golden beauty of her youth. It was just a moment, like the brief rays of sun on a stormy day, but she was there and that meant everything to me. The tender moment was broken by a rap at the door.
"Visting times are now over, Miss Taylor. I will take you to speak to the Doctor," Matron's steely voice barked out.
Just like that, the enchantment was over, my mother returned listlessly to her chair and fixed her gaze at the window. I took her limp hand and pressed it to my lips, although her face remained impassive, I saw a small tear roll slowly down her cheek.