I woke early and jumped out of bed. Sleep was not my friend at Barnsley House. It came when I least wanted it and eluded me in times of exhaustion. On that morning, though, I was grateful for my inability to sleep in; I needed to get back to the notebook.
The more I read, the more I felt sorry for Mrs. Mins. I felt like I could relate to her, in much the same way I had felt drawn to Daphne. She, like me, had been seduced by the romance of Barnsley House; she, like me, had felt drawn to the house and the people in it, despite their differences in age and background. I could see shades of his father in Max’s behaviour towards me: charismatic and engaged one moment, aloof and dismissive the next. I wondered if Daphne had felt the same. There were still some pages to go, pages filled with the familiar scrawl before the words once again turned to lists and recipes. Time was against me, I felt as if the children would stir soon, and I wanted to finish before then.
Too late.
There was a light tap on the door, followed immediately by a twist of the doorknob before I even had a chance to reply. Mrs. Mins. Who else?
After admonishing me for not yet being dressed and reminding me of my duties, Mrs. Mins told me that Robbie had woken in a much worse state. His fever had grown, and the thermometer reading was high enough for concern. I knew the basics of fever management, and I interrupted, telling her I was able to manage the situation on my own.
“You look after the girls,” Mrs. Mins said, her voice softly menacing, “and I’ll take care of things up here.”
I had no choice. Agatha and Sophia needed breakfast, and even though I could trust Sophia to make some toast and Marmite, I still felt uneasy about asking her to carry Agatha on the stairs. I looked in on Robbie and promised him I would be right back.
With Mrs. Mins safely ensconced upstairs playing nursemaid, I took the opportunity to ring Elizabeth. Every part of me wanted to get rid of the notebook; the details of what I had read the night before and in the early hours of the morning were swirling around in my head, and the dark images would not leave me. Fire and betrayal, hatred and revenge. I felt like I had stumbled into a horrible new world, a gruesome and tainted arena in which I had no business. The halcyon lawns of Barnsley no longer seemed so magical. The idea of handing the notebook over to Elizabeth and forgetting all of it was beginning to seem tempting.
Elizabeth answered straightaway. As soon as I spoke, she said, “I thought it would be you.”
Every conversation I had had since arriving at Barnsley had been overheard, either with or without my knowledge, and this one was no different. I tried to communicate as obliquely as possible, aware of the two girls watching me carefully as they munched their toast.
“I can’t bring the . . . thing,” I started, turning towards the wall, praying Elizabeth wouldn’t ask me to repeat myself.
“You’ve found something? A notebook?” she asked. Sharply.
“Yes. But I can’t come to the island today. Robbie’s sick. And the weather . . .” I trailed off, waiting for the agreement that I felt certain would be forthcoming.
“The weather?” Elizabeth laughed, shrill in her disbelief. “Oh, dear, this is only just getting started. Wait until February before you start using the weather as an excuse.”
“Well, Robbie—” A hand grasped me on the shoulder, and I jumped. I turned around, expecting to see one of the girls, and gasped. It was Mrs. Mins, and she was gesturing madly. “Hang on,” I said into the phone. “Mrs. Mins wants to say something.”
I could hear Elizabeth muttering as I covered the receiver. My heart was racing, and I tried to replay my end of the conversation quickly in my mind. Had I said anything too revealing? Something about the look in Mrs. Mins’s eyes told me I had.
“I need you to go and collect some medicine for Robbie from the village,” she said.
“What’s she saying?” Elizabeth was squawking, but I ignored her.
“The weather . . . ,” I started to say. “It’s pretty bad.” Pretty bad was an understatement. I wanted to shout at these people and tell them to look out the window at the teeming rain, the wind blowing the trees almost horizontal to the ground. There were some in the far reaches of the garden that were permanently in that shape, and I could see now how they had become that way.
“Dear girl, Leonard will take you to the island if you need to go,” Mrs. Mins said in the background, making a show of brushing toast crumbs from the counter with her veiny hands. “Just not today.”
“Are you coming?” Elizabeth’s voice came down the line, entitled and insistent.
It was hard to ignore Elizabeth, and I felt the pressure from both of them, for different reasons. I knew why Elizabeth wanted me out there. The discovery of the notebook had marked a turnaround in her attitude towards me; for the first time I had something she wanted, and she barely disguised her desperation. I too desperately wanted to see what Elizabeth could decipher from the notebook. The clock was ticking for Daphne with every day that passed.
But my loyalties lay with the children. After all, I was here as their guardian. More than that, I was family. Sophia and I were bonding. Robbie was sick, and Agatha needed my assistance. It actually felt good to be needed. As much as I wanted to get back to the notebook, it would have to wait. “I’ll have to come tomorrow. If the weather improves.”
“You’ll be fine. There’s a little shelter on Leonard’s boat, and you’ve got that spiffy wear Max gave you for Christmas,” Elizabeth said, resigned to the new plan. I had given up on wondering how people at Barnsley knew things about me seemingly before even I did.
“Tomorrow, then,” I told Elizabeth, who was quiet for a moment before she responded.
“Only Meryl would be able to rally the pharmacist at this time of year,” she said in a mischievous tone, laughing.
“Hmmm . . . ,” I replied, hyperaware of Meryl’s proximity. “Mrs. Mins is going to get Mr. Mins to bring me out.”
“You lucky thing. I’d go out in a storm with Leonard any day. Can you bring some eggs with you?”
And once again, she hung up without saying goodbye. It was only later I realized I had never actually told her that what I had found in the drawer was a notebook. She had somehow worked that out for herself.