Виктория Холт - The Black Opal

One early March morning when Tom Yardley was strolling round the garden to see how the newly-pruned roses were coming along, he made a startling discovery.

Tom was gardener to Dr. Marline at Commonwood House and, as he said, he was not much of a sleeper. He would often rise as soon as it was light and go into the garden, which provided his main interest in life.

He could not believe his eyes, but there it was. He heard it cry first and, looking under the azalea bush the one which had given him all that trouble last year-what should he see wrapped up in a woollen shawl, but a baby.

I was that baby.

The doctor had lived in Commonwood House ever since he had taken over the practice from old Dr. Freeman. He had bought it with his wife’s money, so it was said, and people in small country places always knew such details about their neighbours. The doctor and Mrs. Marline kept a comfortable house on her money, of course and it was Mrs. Marline who was master as well as mistress of the house.

At the time when I made my appearance there were three children in the family. Adeline was ten and simple. The servants whispered about her and I learned that her birth had been a ‘difficult’ one. She had never been quite ‘all there’. Mrs. Marline, who could not believe that anything she produced could not be perfect, had been most upset and there had been a long gap before Henry was born. He was four years old at the time of my arrival, and there was nothing wrong with him, nor with Estella, who was two years younger.

Nanny Gilroy was in charge of the nursery and Sally Green, who was thirteen at the time, had just come to the house to be trained by Nanny, which was fortunate for me, for she told me, when I was of an age to understand, of my coming and the effect it had had on the household.

“Well, nobody might have found you,” she said.

“You could have stayed under that bush till you died, poor mite. But I reckon you would have made yourself heard. A proper little bawler, you was. Tom Yardley come up them nursery stairs holding you as if he thought you was going to bite him. Nanny wasn’t up. She come out of her bed room in that old red flannel dressing-gown and her hair in curlers. I’d heard too, so I came out. Tom Yardley said, ” Look what I found. Under that azalea bush the one I had all that trouble with last year. “

“Nanny Gilroy stared at him. Then she said, ” My patience me. Here’s a nice how-do-you-do, I must say. “

“I took to you straight away. I love babies, especially when they’re little and helpless, before they start getting into everything. Nanny said, ” It belongs to one of them gipsies, I’ll be bound. Come here, making a nuisance of themselves and then go off, leaving messes for other people to clear up. “

I did not like hearing myself referred to as ‘a mess’, but I loved the story and kept silent. The gipsies, it seemed, had been camping in the woods not far from Commonwood House. One could see the woods from the back windows; and it was clear why the house was called Commonwood House, because there were views of the common from the front.

Sally went on to tell me that Nanny Gilroy had thought the sensible thing would have been to send me off to an orphanage or the workhouse, which were the places for babies left under bushes.

“Well, there was a regular to-do,” she explained.

“Mrs. Marline came up to the nursery to take a look at you. She didn’t much like what she saw. She gave you that funny look of hers with her mouth turned down and her eyes half closed, and she said the blanket must be burned on the rubbish heap and you cleaned up. Then the authorities could be consulted and could come and take you away.

“The doctor came up then. He looked at you for a bit without saying anything. He was all the doctor then. He said, ” The child is hungry.

Give her some milk. Nanny, and clean her. “

“There was this thing hanging round your neck.”

I said: “I know. I have always kept it a pendant. It’s on a chain and it’s got markings on it.”

“The doctor looked at it and said, ” They’re Romany signs . or something like that. She must have come from the gipsies. “

“Nanny was ever so pleased, because that was what she’d thought.

“I knew it,” she said.

“Coming here in them woods. It ought not to be allowed.” The doctor held up his hand. You know the way he has . as though he didn’t want to hear her, but you know Nanny. She thought she was right and she said the sooner the baby was on its way to the orphanage the better. It was the proper place for you.

“The doctor said, ” Can you be sure of that. Nanny? “

‘ “Well,” said Nanny, “she’s a regular little gipsy, sir. It should be the poorhouse or the orphanage for that son.”

‘“Can you be sure what sort she is?” His voice was all cold like, and Nanny should have noticed, but she was so sure she was right. She said: “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

‘“Then you are very discerning,” he said.

“But to me this child’s origins are not obvious as yet.”

“You started to bawl at the top of your voice and I was dying to tell you to stop, ‘cos, with your face all red and nothing wrong with him, nor with Estella, who was two years younger.

Nanny Gilroy was in charge of the nursery and Sally Green, who was thirteen at the time, had just come to the house to be trained by Nanny, which was fortunate for me, for she told me, when I was of an age to understand, of my coming and the effect it had had on the household.

“Well, nobody might have found you,” she said.

“You could have stayed under that bush till you died, poor mite. But I reckon you would have made yourself heard. A proper little bawler, you was. Tom Yardley come up them nursery stairs holding you as if he thought you was going to bite him. Nanny wasn’t up. She come out of her bed room in that old red flannel dressing-gown and her hair in curlers. I’d heard too, so I came out. Tom Yardley said, ” Look what I found. Under that azalea bush the one I had all that trouble with last year. “

“Nanny Gilroy stared at him. Then she said, ” My patience me. Here’s a nice how-do-you-do, I must say. “

“I took to you straight away. I love babies, especially when they’re little and helpless, before they start getting into everything. Nanny said, ” It belongs to one of them gipsies, I’ll be bound. Come here, making a nuisance of themselves and then go off, leaving messes for other people to clear up. “

I did not like hearing myself referred to as ‘a mess’, but I loved the story and kept silent. The gipsies, it seemed, had been camping in the woods not far from Commonwood House. One could see the woods from the back windows; and it was clear why the house was called Commonwood House, because there were views of the common from the front.

Sally went on to tell me that Nanny Gilroy had thought the sensible thing would have been to send me off to an orphanage or the workhouse, which were the places for babies left under bushes.

“Well, there was a regular to-do,” she explained.

“Mrs. Marline came up to the nursery to take a look at you. She didn’t much like what she saw. She gave you that funny look of hers with her mouth turned down and her eyes half closed, and she said the blanket must be burned on the rubbish heap and you cleaned up. Then the authorities could be consulted and could come and take you away.

“The doctor came up then. He looked at you for a bit without saying anything. He was all the doctor then. He said, ” The child is hungry.

Give her some milk, Nanny, and clean her. “

“There was this thing hanging round your neck.”

I said: “I know. I have always kept it a pendant. It’s on a chain and it’s got markings on it.”

“The doctor looked at it and said, ” They’re Romany signs . or something like that. She must have come from the gipsies. “

“Nanny was ever so pleased, because that was what she’d thought.

“I knew it,” she said.

“Coming here in them woods. It ought not to be allowed.” The doctor held up his hand. You know the way he has . as though he didn’t want to hear her, but you know Nanny. She thought she was right and she said the sooner the baby was on its way to the orphanage the better. It was the proper place for you.

“The doctor said, ” Can you be sure of that. Nanny? “

‘ “Well,” said Nanny, “she’s a regular little gipsy, sir. It should be the poorhouse or the orphanage for that sort.”

‘ “Can you be sure what sort she is?” His voice was all cold like, and Nanny should have noticed, but she was so sure she was right. She said: “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

‘“Then you are very discerning,” he said.

“But to me this child’s origins are not obvious as yet.”

“You started to bawl at the top of your voice and I was dying to tell you to stop, ‘cos, with your face all red and screwed up, you wasn’t the prettiest sight, and I thought:

They’ll get rid of you, you silly baby, if you go on like that, and how are you going to like that orphanage?

‘” think, sir” Nanny started to say, but the doctor stopped her.

‘ “Don’t make the effort, Nanny,” he said, which was a polite way of saying “shut up” “Mrs. Marline and I will decide what is to be done.”

“I thought: She will, you mean. You’re not going to have much say in it and it will be the orphanage for that baby.

“I was wrong. I can’t think what made Mrs. Marline change her mind.

She’d been all for getting you out of the house as quick as she could.