seeing her for the first time. ‘I keep thinking you’re
an innocent child. But you’re not, are you?’
‘Am I not, Tom? What am I then?’
For a second his face was
distorted by hatred and contempt. ‘You’re a monster!’
Margot sat up, her face
expressionless. Smoothing down her dress, she nodded her head several times in
a knowing way, as if nothing in the world could ever surprise her. She stood
and looked at him as she had never looked at him before, her scrutiny
thoughtful and frightening in its detachment. This was not his Margot, this
girl who walked away and never once looked back.
Never would Igraine forget the
sight of Margot, dishevelled, dress torn, face scratched, moaning pitifully and
tearing at her hair as though demented. That such a thing could happen to her
angelic daughter was beyond her comprehension. Uther fired Tom on the spot.
That, he made clear to Igraine, was the end of the incident as far as he was
concerned.
‘Incident! It was rape! We
must call the police. The man’s a pervert, a paedophile. If he’s not punished,
he’ll do it to someone else’s child.’
Uther shook his head. ‘Drop
it, Igraine. Do you really want your child to go through the trauma of
cross-examination by the police, and then court proceedings with all that sick
publicity? Our first duty is to protect Margot.’
Igraine knew Uther was right,
though for all the wrong reasons. “Your child”, he had called her, not “our
child”. Nothing could be clearer. He didn’t see it as his problem. And yet it
was hardly surprising, for this was the man who could sacrifice his own son on
the altar of his ambition. Why should he hesitate to do the same thing to his
step-daughter? Protect Margot, indeed! She knew exactly who Uther was
protecting. ‘It’s your bloody career you’re thinking about.’
‘What if I am? I’m trying to
claw my way up from the back benches. The last thing I need is a scandal.’
‘Margot has done nothing
wrong. She is the victim. So are we. How could anyone make a scandal out of
that?’
‘Easily. Imagine the
sanctimonious claptrap, the media’s moral censure – the parents who allowed
their beautiful young daughter to spend her days with a hot-blooded gardener!
They’d say we were either indifferent to Margot’s wellbeing or unbelievably
naïve. Either way they’d condemn us.’
‘If we don’t call in the
police, Margot will think we don’t believe her story. It’s important she knows
where we stand.’
Uther nodded. He knew what he
had to do. ‘You are right, duchess,’ he said, ‘absolutely right. I’ll have a
chat with her.’
Uther stood by the library window with his back
to Margot. ‘Good gardeners are hard to find,’ he said, directing his words at
the ornamental gardens.
‘You don’t give a shit what he
did to me, do you?’ She spat the words at him.
‘Tom wouldn’t hurt a flower,
let alone a young girl.’ ‘He raped me!’ she screamed.
Uther turned to face her. ‘Did
he, Margot? Or was it you who raped him?’
She burst into tears. ‘I hate
you! I hate you! You don’t know me at all!’
‘Oh but I do, darling,’ he said calmly. ‘Don’t
forget, I’ve seen you in action. I know what you can do to men.’
She started to protest but he
waved her quiet. ‘I warn you, Margot. This game you play with men, it’s a
dangerous one. One day you’ll pay for it. You never know what a man will do
when he loses control. This time it only cost you your virginity. Next time,
you might not be so fortunate.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t you? Let me explain
then. I had my suspicions, of course, so I went looking for evidence. I found
it in a drawer in your bedroom. By the way, a small tip for the future. Under
your knickers is not a very intelligent place to conceal your diary.
Appropriate perhaps, intelligent no.’
Margot’s eyes flickered.
Uther waved a red book at her. ‘Recognise it?’
‘Give it me!