O Caledonia

The next day she refused to unlock the door and she would not answer when they spoke to her. They were all supposed to be going away for a couple of days to the west coast, where the sun was apparently shining. “If you don’t come out this minute, Janet, you’ll have to stay behind.” “Good,” said Janet silently. “Right, that’s it. You’re a very silly little girl. And you won’t like being here by yourself one bit. On your own head be it. You’re old enough to fend for yourself. We’ll see you on Monday. Meanwhile you had better think one or two things over.” Janet listened to the retreating car engine. She waited for half an hour to be sure that they had gone and then she took down her barricades. How wonderful to have all Auchnasaugh to herself.

The day passed pleasantly. She wandered about the castle, entering rooms which were usually out of bounds because they were dangerous, or because they contained important documents. She particularly enjoyed the circular attic room above the circular nursery. It contained a huge wasps’ nest. She found a battered old suitcase full of Lila’s flappy black clothes. These she decided to wear for the family homecoming. How angry that would make Vera. She would persist in wearing them and eventually, with any luck, Vera would ask in exasperation why she always had to wear black and she would reply like Nina in The Seagull

, “I am in mourning for my life.” For some time she had been looking for a chance to use this line, and it would make Vera even angrier. With some difficulty she dragged a tall mildewed mirror down from the attic to her room and admired the greenish quality it gave to her skin. In the afternoon she and Claws walked down through the mist to visit the ponies. She decided that she enjoyed moving through this vaporous element. She felt weightless, as though she might fly.

When the mist cleared in early evening the sun shone down from a clear blue sky for the first time in weeks. She fed the cats and then she fed the dogs. Claws and she shared some digestive biscuits and a pot of tea, making a horrible soggy mess which she resolved to clear up later, not now. The kitchen was an enjoyable place without Miss Wales and Jim. She supposed they had been given the weekend off since no one was meant to be here. In the nursery she changed the parrot’s water and gave him some more sunflower seeds. It was growing dark, and the evening suddenly seemed to stretch out endlessly before her. She would go and read in her room. But she could not settle. Restless, she paced about. She went down to the drawing room and drew the curtains. She was beginning to feel vulnerable and exposed, a single human being in this great empty place, and not another soul for miles. Not, of course, that there was anything to fear. It was just a strange sensation, like being an ant crawling across a globe. Owls went shrieking by in the blackness. The rose branches fingered the windows. She thought she heard footsteps outside on the grass; she stood rigid. Then a cat mewed. She had forgotten how much noise animals can make at night. The moon had risen; she went outside to look at it. It was almost full and sailing swiftly through great banks of cloud. She felt cold and returned to the drawing room. She decided that a sensible thing to do was to have a drink. It would calm her nerves and warm her. Perhaps then she wouldn’t mind being alone, but at present she was not enjoying it.