NINE

The Pritchards arrived in a chilly September rain. Grandfather had been cross all day. “What a miserable exchange,” he complained. “All my birds leaving and my wastrel son and his wretched wife descending upon me. I told Grumbloch to keep them in the city, but they won’t do as they are told. I won’t have them here. They can pitch a tent outside.” For all his complaining, Grandfather instructed Burker to ready a set of rooms for the Pritchards.

I hardly recognized the Pritchards. Gone was Mr. Pritchard’s white suit and Mrs. Pritchard’s flowered hat. Bundled up from head to toe in dark woolen cloaks, mufflers, gloves, and hats, they were complaining to Mr. Grumbloch as loudly about England as they had complained about Africa. In the vastness of the great hall, they didn’t see me at first and began to load up poor Burker with their hats and scarfs and coats until the man nearly crumpled under his burden.

I wished that I could disappear, but Mr. Grumbloch said in a voice that seemed to be filled with irony, “There is your daughter.”

At once they rushed at me. The two sides of Mrs. Pritchard’s cloak fell over me like bat’s wings, suffocating me. Mr. Pritchard nearly knocked me over in his haste to embrace me.

Mrs. Pritchard cried, “Valerie, dear, how we have missed our precious girl.”

“We couldn’t remain away from you for another day,” Mr. Pritchard said.

I suffered their greetings and managed some few words of welcome, all the while noticing how Mr. Grumbloch stood aside and watched the Pritchards’ performance. There were remarks on Mr. Pritchard’s part about how pleased he was to be home again and on Mrs. Pritchard’s part about how well I looked.

“I see that this life agrees with you, Valerie, dear,” she said. “I suppose you are getting used to so comfortable a life.” She gave me a quick, malicious look.

I could only nod my head and smile weakly. It was all I could do to keep from shouting that I was not their Valerie and had no wish to be. All the loathing I felt for them was turned against myself, for hadn’t I let myself become a part of them? I had been led to believe Grandfather had only a short time to live. I had thought my deception would be for only a few weeks. But Grandfather was stronger. Mrs. Bittery had said, “It’s all your doing, Miss Valerie. The old gentleman has something to live for now.” After hearing that, how could I tell Grandfather that I had deceived him?

I suffered the Pritchards’ embraces, saying little.

“We must go to Father at once,” Mr. Pritchard said, but Burker stopped him.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but your father is feeling unwell. He left strict instructions that he was to see no one but Mr. Grumbloch. I believe he looks forward to a visit with you tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t understand,” Mr. Pritchard said. “We have come halfway around the world. Why is it that Mr. Grumbloch is to see him and we are not?” For a moment I thought he was going to rush up the stairway.

Mr. Grumbloch quickly said, “I have a bit of business with him that will take no more than a moment.”

Mr. Pritchard shrugged and turned away. He had grown up at Stagsway, and in no time he was stamping about up and down stairways and in and out of rooms. While he was examining the house, Mrs. Pritchard took me aside. She peered closely at me. I might have been some odd species of beetle. Though no one could have heard us, she asked in a hushed voice, “How often do you see your grandfather?”

“Several times a day,” I said. Had I known what was on her mind, I would have kept silent.

“And does he talk with you about Stagsway?”

“Oh, yes. We talk of it all the time. He depends upon me to tell him about the birds.”

“I hope you haven’t encouraged him in the wild scheme of leaving Stagsway to some bird association. Mr. Grumbloch told us all about it. Your grandfather must be out of his mind.”

“Oh no,” I said. “I think it’s a perfect plan. Everyone will be able to come and enjoy the birds.”

Mrs. Pritchard grabbed my arm. “You little fool. Why do you think we sent you here? To allow you to cheat my husband of his inheritance? Stagsway must come to him, and you must see that it does or you will find yourself locked away in a prison for impersonating our daughter.”

I should have realized that it was an empty threat, for the Pritchards were surely as guilty of deception as I was, but I could think only of my own guilt and how saddened and miserable Grandfather would be to learn of their scheme and my part in it.

Little was said that evening at dinner, for Arthur was at his station while we ate. Mrs. Nessel had gone to a great deal of trouble over the meal. There was her special soup à la reine made with chicken and almonds; baked haddock, roast mutton, and apple tart. While Mr. Pritchard ate huge quantities, Mrs. Pritchard only picked at her food. For myself, I was too nervous to eat even a morsel and signaled Arthur to take away my plate before the untouched food was noticed.

Immediately after dinner the Pritchards made me accompany them into the library, where a fire had been laid and a tray of coffee set out. Burker poured out coffee for the Pritchards, and after handing it about with a shaking hand, he gave the fire some attention, groaning quietly as he straightened up.

The moment Burker was out of the room, Mrs. Pritchard said, “That man should have been dismissed years ago. He’s much too old for the job. Aldon, you must find a butler for your father who will answer to us. The cook must go as well. The dinner tonight was inedible. The responsibility of managing this place is too much for your father. I’m sure he’ll welcome our taking it over and sparing him the concern.”

“It’s not just the house,” Mr. Pritchard said. “I had a talk with one of the tenants. Father is letting the lodges for a pittance. Rents must be raised. Of course, everything can’t be accomplished in a day.”

They had paid me no attention, but now I saw them looking at me.

“We’ll see tomorrow, my dear, just how helpful you can be to us.”

I was alone that evening in my room, once a place of happiness and safety, that now felt poisoned by the Pritchards’ greed and my own part in their scheme. I wanted to run away, but imagining Grandfather’s face upon hearing such news, I quickly gave up the idea. I stood at the window staring out at the moonlit grounds, every inch of which I knew and loved. By the light of the moon I could see the bats darting about, hungry for rare fall insects. Soon they would fold their wings about their small bodies and hibernate for the winter. How I wished I could climb into some opening in a tree and curl up until the Pritchards left. How could I let the Pritchards make life miserable for Grandfather? Yet if I were suddenly to tell the truth, wouldn’t that make him more unhappy? I pulled a blanket from the bed and put it around me. All night I sat up in the chair looking out the window at the grounds of Stagsway that had once seemed so friendly. The dark faded away, and a thin line of pink spread across the horizon. A few skylarks sang, but their song, which had always cheered me, seemed on this early morning the saddest I had ever heard.

When I dressed, I found my arm was bruised where Mrs. Pritchard had grabbed it, but the bruise was nothing compared to the injury the Pritchards had done me by entangling me in their evil scheme. Worst of all was my agreement to be a part of the scheme. Though I had told myself I had agreed out of concern for Grandfather, I knew I had let myself be talked into the deception. I had only myself to blame, and not the Pritchards.

At breakfast Mrs. Pritchard called Mrs. Nessel into the dining room and announced to her, “I am sure you would welcome some suggestions regarding meals. After this you can submit your menus to me each morning, and I will go over them.”

Mrs. Nessel bristled. “I’ve had no complaints from Mr. Pritchard,” she said.

Mrs. Pritchard said, “Of course, my father-in-law is unwell and has not had the energy to see to such things.”

I saw Mrs. Nessel tighten her lips to keep back an angry retort.

Before Mrs. Pritchard could say more, Burker announced that Grandfather wished to see us. The Pritchards ascended the stairs, and I lagged along.

Grandfather was sitting up in his chair, a scowl on his face, but he spoke gently to me. “Come here, child. Have you been out this morning?”

“No, Grandfather, but late last night I saw the bats, and just at dawn the skylarks were out.”

He was quiet for a moment. “You must have been up very late and awake very early. I hope there is nothing to bother you.” Grandfather turned to Mr. Pritchard. “Well, Son, so you have decided to pay me a visit.”

I saw that Mr. Pritchard was intimidated by his father’s piercing stare. “We were anxious to see you, Father, and of course we missed Valerie terribly. Now that we are here, we hope to relieve you of some of the responsibility of caring for Stagsway.”

“Do you?” Grandfather asked in a cold voice. “That will be difficult to do from London.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t think of going to London,” Mrs. Pritchard said. “We have no wish to leave you.”

Grandfather stared at her. “I have had Mr. Grumbloch make arrangements for you to stay in London. There is a comfortable flat with every convenience. The car will take you today.”

Mr. Pritchard’s face went very red. “But Father, we have only just arrived. There are things that must be discussed.”

“What things are those?”

I am sure Mr. Pritchard had not meant to rush at the subject so quickly but to lead up to it gradually, over a period of days. Now he saw there might not be another opportunity. “Mr. Grumbloch has told us that you mean to leave Stagsway to the Royal Bird Society. Surely that is foolish.”

Grandfather turned to me. “Well, my dear, what do you say? Am I being foolish?”

The Pritchards were staring at me. Though she wasn’t close enough to touch me, I could feel Mrs. Pritchard’s hand cruelly squeezing my arm. I knew the Pritchards were anxious for me to discourage Grandfather’s plan. They would surely punish me if I did not, but if I had deceived Grandfather once, I would not deceive him again. “I don’t think you are foolish at all. I think it a fine idea,” I said.

Grandfather turned to the Pritchards. “There you are. ‘A fine idea’!”

Mr. Pritchard gave me a killing look. “Valerie is a child. What does she know of such things?”

With a smile Grandfather said, “I believe the Good Book says ‘A little child shall lead them.’” He turned to me. “Your young friend Rachel, as the daughter of missionaries, would surely know that saying, would she not?”

The Pritchards went silent. Their faces were drained of color. They had no idea I had spoken of Rachel, nor did I understand why Grandfather mentioned her name now, but it had a terrible effect upon the Pritchards. They looked flattened, like two paper dolls, as if all the life had been pressed out of them.

Grandfather said, “Now I believe I will rest for a bit. As I said, Nivers will drive you to London as soon as possible.” He rang for Burker.

“You are my father,” Mr. Pritchard said. “Have you nothing more to say to me?”

“Only that should you wish to return to Africa, and I hope that you decide to do just that, I will gladly pay your fare.”

“But we have no wish to return to Africa,” Mrs. Pritchard said. “We despise it!”

“Then perhaps a little flat in London might be possible.” Grandfather turned to me. “I am sure you will miss your parents, Valerie, so I will set you a task this afternoon to keep you occupied. The leaves are beginning to fall. Look up into the bare branches and see what nests you can discover and note their shape and size and how they are constructed. Later you and I will determine what birds built them. It will make a pleasant evening for the two of us.”

The Pritchards were studying the way Grandfather spoke to me, which was kindness itself. Neither of us could hide how we had grown to care for each other. I saw the Pritchards exchange looks, and I sensed danger.

As Burker led us out, the Pritchards ordered me to follow them to their room. The moment we were alone and the door shut, Mr. Pritchard said, “Two things are plain. My father is very fond of you, and in spite of all we have done for you, you do not mean to use that fondness for our benefit. If we are to be sent away, you will come with us. Let us see how Father likes that. I daresay a few days without you will bring him to heel.”

“I won’t leave Grandfather,” I said, surprising myself with my defiance.

“He is not your grandfather, and furthermore you have nothing to say about it,” Mr. Pritchard told me. In a voice full of mockery he said, “Surely you wouldn’t disobey your dear parents?”

Mrs. Pritchard stood over me as I packed, while Mr. Pritchard sent word to Grandfather that I was to accompany them to London. Only minutes later Burker came to tell us Grandfather wished to see me. Though he had not sent for them, the Pritchards accompanied me, determined not to let me out of their sight.

Grandfather gave me so searching a look, it was all I could do to keep from blurting out the truth.

“I understand you wish to go with your parents to London,” Grandfather said.

I took a deep breath. “I would rather stay here, Sir.”

“‘Sir’? That’s a cold word. Why not ‘Grandfather,’ as you always call me?”

Now was the moment for the truth, but before I could say a word, Mr. Pritchard spoke up. “I think, Father, that you of all people would say a child should obey her parents. Disobedience, I believe, is one of the crimes of which you once accused me. We must insist on Valerie’s accompanying us. Of course, should you choose to welcome all of us here, then there would be no necessity for being parted from Valerie.”

Grandfather drew himself up. “You will never be welcome here.” With a final sad glance at me, Grandfather dismissed us.

With Burker supervising and Arthur doing the work, the car was loaded with the Pritchards’ many suitcases and trunks. As we were getting into the car, Burker put his hand out to me. “We are sorry to see you leave, Miss Valerie.” When his hand touched mine, I felt a piece of paper. As I withdrew my hand, I closed my fingers over the paper and slipped it into my pocket.

Moments later we were making our way down the drive, with its row of ancient oaks. I had decided on the truth. If I was to be taken from Grandfather anyhow, I now had no reason to hold back. I settled down and began rehearsing what I would say, only to find there were no suitable words, nor anyone to say them to. Miserable, I sank down in my seat, as far from the Pritchards as possible, and stared out of the window.

At any other time I would have been full of excitement at the thought of seeing the great city of London. Now every mile of the journey was painful, for it took me from Grandfather. The Pritchards had closed the glass window that separated us from Nivers and were making plans, talking as if I were not there.

“Any fool could see how the girl has ingratiated herself with my father,” Mr. Pritchard said. “We sent her to assist us, and she has done nothing but assist herself, worming her way into the old man’s affections.”

“He’ll come around,” Mrs. Pritchard said. “To have the girl back, he must put up with us.”

Just when I felt I could not endure another moment of breathing the same air as the Pritchards, we came to London. I had seen little of England, no more than Southampton and the country villages. When I thought of a city, I thought of Nairobi, with its two or three unpaved roads and its handful of government buildings and stores. London was hundreds of streets and thousands of houses and stores. Cars and people were everywhere. I remembered Father reading a passage from the prophet Isaiah: “Woe unto them that join house to house, that lay field to field, till there be no place, that they may be placed alone in the midst of the earth!” Surely in such a city there would be no place where you could be alone. Now that I had resolved on the truth, I would have to find my way in this vast city, and there would be no one to guide me.

It was only when the Pritchards left me alone in my room, warning me not to leave it, that I was able to read the note Burker had slipped into my hand. It was from Grandfather, and folded into the paper was a pound note. I read: “If you need a friend, you must call upon Mr. Grumbloch in his chambers at Gray’s Inn Square.”

Our flat was on the ground floor. I could easily slip out the window as I once had done in Africa. I was both relieved and terrified. For months I had longed to tell the truth. But what would my punishment be? I quickly packed a suitcase, taking only what I believed I would need in a prison, for when I confessed to Mr. Grumbloch, that was surely where I would be sent. I had some idea that prisons were cold and damp, so I packed a sweater and heavy shoes and stockings; then I raised the window and climbed out into the great city.