Page 47 of Strangers in Time

“I would never say that. She’s the gentlest, sweetest creature.”

“One can be gentle and sweet and still be quite mad,” replied Molly.

“Well, I wouldn’t know about that,” said Mrs. Pride, glancing at her hands. “But I believe that she was trying to go back to a time when there was no war and her family was all together and happy. That was a safe place for her. So she pretended that was where she was. And who could blame the poor woman?”

“I think you may be right about that,” said Molly thoughtfully.

“Well, I’m no head doctor or anything, but Idohave common sense.”

“So how did Mother end up in Cornwall?”

Mrs. Pride took a few moments to clear her throat and wipe her eyes with a tissue. “One morning she got up before any of us. She came down to the kitchen, put some cooking fat in a pan on the stove, lit the gas, and apparently forgot all about it. When she realized her error, she came in and chucked water on it to stop the smoke. Well grease and water don’t mix too well, and we nearly lost herandthe kitchen. Luckily, your father heard her cry out and came down in time to stop any further damage. When she’d seen what she’d nearly done, your mother, well, she went a bit berserk, I guess one could say. Shouting and punching your father, and tearing at her clothes and hair, and well,raving.”

“My God, Mrs. Pride,” said a visibly shaken Molly.

“That was why Mrs. Brand left. See, your mother went after her too when she came to your father’s assistance. ‘Who do you think you are, taking liberties with Mr. Wakefield, you dreadful hussy!’ she screamed at her. And Mrs. Brand was sixty if she was a day. Anyway, she gave her notice that very morning, and we had a devil of a time getting a replacement because your mother insisted on interviewing them. And, well, most of the ladies ran out of the house after a few minutes of being shouted at and berated by her. So then, it just fell to me.”

“My word,” exclaimed Molly.

“And then poor Mr. John had several rows with her. She’d order the car and then while it was moving down the road, she’d climb out or try to. When Mr. John would stop and try to get her back in she would fight him, saying he was trying to kidnap her, do terrible things to her. After the third time he handed in his notice. Said his nerves and his knees could take it no longer.”

“I would imagine not.”

“Any man that came near her—the milkman, the postman, it didn’t matter—she flew into a rage. She was uncontrollable. Then the decision was made to send her to the sanatorium in Cornwall, where they have a very nice place by the seaside. Your father took her by train and got her settled in, then came back here. He visited her as often as he could.”

“And did he say how she was doing?”

“He never spoke of it,” said Mrs. Pride. “And it didn’t feel right for me to ask if he didn’t want to volunteer it.”

“And where is Father now?”

“He’s… he’s, um, gone, Molly,” said Mrs. Pride apprehensively.

FATHERWAKEFIELD

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘gone’? Is he… is he dead?” asked Molly.

“I don’t know.”

“How can you notknowsomething like that?” Molly cried out.

Mrs. Pride pointed toward the front of the house. “I watched him one morning come down the stairs with his suitcase, put on his hat and coat, and pick up his umbrella, for it was raining like a monsoon. He turned to me and said, ‘Mrs. Pride, please take care of things while I’m away.’ Now, this surprised me because he hadn’t mentioned taking a trip. So I says, ‘And where might you be going, Mr. Wakefield? And when might you be back, sir?’ As the housekeeper I needed to know things like that, of course.”

“And what did he say?” asked Molly breathlessly.

“He said, ‘Mrs. Pride, if I had the answers to that I’m not sure I would tell you. But I don’t, so that becomes an unnecessary decision.’ That was what he said, word for word. I’ll never forget it till my dying day.”

“So you just let him walk out?” asked Molly incredulously.

“What was I to do, Molly? He’s the master. If he wanted to leave, what right did I have to stop him?”

“And when did all this occur?”

“Six months ago, almost to the day.”

“Six months! But what about the letter he left me on my bed?”

Mrs. Pride looked deeply troubled. “Please don’t be upset, Molly, but it was me that put that there the morning you came back.”