“You get along with you, Mrs. B,” said Daisy.

I was taken into a room where there was a large pile of buns set out on a table with cups, saucers, plates and a coffee pot with jugs of hot milk.

“Tom will take your bag up while we eat the buns. Then I’ll show you your room and you can meet Harriman after.”

As the door shut on us, she lowered her voice and said:

Tom and Daisy are wonderful, but they have to be obeyed. They’re gruff. They stand no nonsense and you have to remember they are as good as anyone if you want to get along with them. And by the way, they expect you to eat. Good food and plenty of it is the way they show their welcome. Daisy is a wonderful cook and you could trust her and Tom with everything you have. Now, you must do justice to her buns.”

They were hot, spicy and delicious.

“Not too much of an ordeal,” said Zingara with a grin.

The coffee was hot and good.

“They think I’m a little mad,” said Zingara, ‘but they make excuses for me. “

She went on to tell me how she came to be here.

“The last place in the world I should have thought I’d land up in. You see, I’m getting old. You’re going to contradict that, but I am getting old, for a dancer. And it was a dancer I really was. The singing … well, that went along with it, but on its own it wasn’t quite good enough. I wanted to leave at the height of my glory. You understand?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Harriman was always a good friend to me. I have many friends, but Harriman has always been the one I relied on and trusted. And when you are no longer young, it is reliance that you want. I have known him since I was a child. He came to the camp to study us. He stayed for a year. That was when we formed this great friendship.”

“Rosie told me.”

“There was one night … on the stage… I felt a pain in my leg. I knew I could not stretch far enough. I hid it, of course. It was not so much then, only a sign. I went to the doctor. He said I was straining my muscles. If I stopped doing that, all would be well. I must slow down. That was enough. I said to Harriman, “I cannot wait until they shoo me off.” He said, “Rosaleen, you must marry me.” He always called me Rosaleen.

That is my true name. Zingara is for the stage. This was sudden. I had not thought of it. But Harriman makes quick decisions.

“I want a castle,” he said, “and the only way I shall ever get one is to build one.”

“Rosaleen must leave the stage,” he says, “so she will marry me.”

“And so you married him?”

“At last I saw that it was a good thing to do. I needed Harriman. I was downcast. I had lived the life of excitement in the theatre for so long. How could I give it up? I had some money, yes. But what should I do? Go back to the gipsies? That had always attracted me. All through my life, I had never forgotten them. Harriman said, ” No, you will not be content. You will think of the old life in the theatre, just as before you thought of life with the gipsies. You must marry me and come to my castle in Yorkshire. You can walk on the moors and feel the joy of the gipsy’s life and at the same time enjoy the comfort you have come to expect. “

“And so you did.”

“You will see how it works. Now, you have eaten two buns. Well, that is something. They will not be too disappointed. Now I shall show you your room. You can unpack, wash your hands and then I will introduce you to Harriman.”

My room was large, with big windows overlooking the moor. I was delighted with the view and filled with exhilaration. I was completely fascinated by my mother and I longed for more revelations.

Harriman was the next surprise. He was indeed old. He told me later that he was seventy. He was tall and thin, with a craggy face rather like an eagle’s.

He held out his hand, grasped mine and studied me intently.

“Can’t rise,” he said.

“I am something of an old crock these days.

Rosaleen will tell you. “

“He’s not in the least,” said my mother.

“Just a little bit weak in the knees.”

It was obvious that Harriman Blakemore was a most unusual man. The folly in itself was evidence of that, and the more I saw of this unusual household, the more eager I became to discover more.

Harriman and my mother were two of the most lively-minded people I had ever met. They talked continuously. My mother astonished me by her knowledge of various subjects. I guessed that this stemmed from her relationship with Harriman. They had known each other since she was a child when he had come to the gipsy camp and found her there. He said once that he had gone to discover the true gipsy and had found Rosaleen, who was unlike any other. It was he, of course, who had tutored her, moulded her character, made her the woman she was. It was through him that she had met the impresario who had developed her talents. Harriman had guided her through life.

He was a man of means. He had been involved in several business concerns; he had travelled widely and, in his fifties, had retired from business life and devoted himself to his hobbies. Studying the gipsies and writing a treatise on them was evidently one of these building Castle Folly was another. Now his body was inactive but his mind was as lively as ever.

He told me that he had had a good life and that he was as content now as he had ever been.

“That, my dear Carmel,” he said, ‘is a successful life. Success is contentment. Is that not what we are all striving for? It is not fame and fortune, it is not the pleasure of the moment. Of what use is something so ephemeral? What every human being wants is happiness. The mistake most make is that they seek those things which can only bring a fleeting satisfaction. I have had a good life and now I have come to my old age I have my castle, which I can see from my window. My folly, they call it. I think it sums up my achievement, my success. You see me, Carmel, a happy man. “

It was not that he talked a great deal about himself. His interest in others was great. My mother told me he was interested in everyone he met. He wanted to know all about them. He could tell you details of the lives of Daisy and Tom Arkwright which he had extracted from them, to their own amazement, she was sure, for neither Daisy nor Tom was noted for loquacity.

He wanted to hear about my life in Australia, and I found myself going into details about the Formans, including the episode of the sundowner and James’s search for opals.

I was so completely fascinated by everything I found at Castle Folly that I believed, for the first time since Toby’s death, I had not thought of him once.

My mother took me to see her caravan. Harriman had arranged for it to be installed.

“He says there is so much of the gipsy in me that I’ll never lose it.

I’ll never forget that I was born in a caravan and I lived my early life in one. I have gipsy blood in me. And that means, my darling, that you, who are part of me, must have too. Sometimes I want to be alone. I come here and sit on the steps. I feel the silence all round me. I am quite alone with nature. Then I go back to the house, and Harriman is there, my guide, my guardian, as he’ has always been. And then I know that he was right. I belong to two worlds . and he has made it possible for me to live in both, for he knew that I could not be completely happy with one alone. “

“And you are completely happy?” I said.

“It must be a great contrast to the days in the theatre when you were the toast of the town.”

She laughed.

“I was never that. Mine was a success of a moderate nature. But I have heard the applause in London, Paris and Madrid. It was intoxicating. But Harriman has always made me aware of the danger of caring too much for ephemeral success. He reminded me that public approbation is fickle. Favourites come and go and it is demoralizing to become a fallen idol. Better never to have been an idol at all. He taught me how to regard that kind of success.”

“What a wonderful teacher he must have been!”

“I bless the day when he decided to come to our encampment.”

“I think he does, too.”

“But you think it is strange, do you not? This old man and this woman such as you can guess I must have been. Well, Harriman is not old.

He never could be. He has the most lively of minds and he can never fail to enchant me. As for myself, I have lived what would be called an adventurous life and at forty-five I have settled down to what would be called retirement from the world. Is that not amazing? Oh, Carmel! There is so much for us to tell. “

Each day was full of interest. Rosaleen - I thought of her by that name now, for Zingara was the dancer was right when she said we had much to tell. We belonged together. We were mother and daughter and we desperately wanted to make up for all the years we had lost.

We walked a great deal. She wanted me to know the magic of the moors.

She unbound her hair and let it flow loose in the wind: we found a boulder which made a rest for our backs, and we sat and talked. Often she took me to the caravan, and there she would make tea of herbs such as Rosie Perrin had given me. She talked of Toby and I was surprised that I could join in without that overwhelming sorrow which I had felt before.

“He was a wonderful man,” she said.

“I loved him and he loved me in his way. He was a man who could love many people at the same time. The great love of his life was for his daughter. I was not so very young when we met twenty-three, in fact.

That is older than you are now. I was making my way on the stage.

Although Harriman was in the background of my life, we were not as we became later. He was interested in me, but he had many interests. He was out of the country at the time. All my life there have been times when I have hankered for the gipsy way . wandering from place to place . the open road . the fresh air. the freedom. I went back. I expect you have guessed that Rosie is my mother. She always understood. She was so proud of what I had done. I think she believes it was a great deal more than it really was. She was always happy when I visited her.”