before I got up the courage to visit Cockmoile Square. I was only able to read about it in papers Henry De La Beche and Reverend Conybeare published, in which they named this notional creature a plesiosaurus, a 'near lizard'. It had a very long neck and huge paddles, and William Buckland likened it to a serpent threaded through the shell of a turtle.
Now, according to the newspaper, she had found another specimen, and I was once again being tempted to visit Cockmoile Square. After reading the brief notice, questions popped into my head that I wanted to ask Mary. What did she find first? How big was the specimen, and in what sort of condition? How complete? Did this one have a skull? Why did she stay out all night to work on it? Whom did they expect to sell it to: the British or Bristol Museums, or to Colonel Birch once more?
My desire to see it was so strong that I went so far as to get up to fetch my cloak.
At that moment, however, Bessy appeared with another cup of tea for me. 'What are you doing, Miss Elizabeth? Surely you're not going out in the cold?'
'I--' As I looked into Bessy's broad face, her cheeks red and accusing, I knew I couldn't tell her where I wanted to go. Bessy had been pleased that Mary and I were no longer friends, and would now have plenty of opinions about my desire to visit Cockmoile Square which I didn't have the energy to fight. Nor could I explain to Margaret and Louise, who had both encouraged me to make amends with Mary and then, when I wouldn't, let the matter drop and never mentioned her.
'I was just going to the door to see if I could see the post coming,' I said. 'But do you know, I'm feeling a little dizzy. I think I'll go to bed.'
'You do that, Miss Elizabeth. You don't want to go anywhere.'
It is rare that I feel Bessy's caution is sound.
William Buckland arrived two days later. Margaret and Louise had gone to deliver the Christmas baskets to various deserving persons, but I was still ill enough to stay behind. Louise had looked envious as they left; such visits were tedious for her--as they were for me. Only Margaret enjoyed social calls.
It seemed I had only just allowed my eyes to close when Bessy came in to announce that a gentleman had arrived to see me. I sat up, rubbed my face and smoothed my hair.
William Buckland bounded in. 'Miss Philpot!' he cried. 'Don't get up--you look so comfortable there by the fire. I didn't mean to disturb you. I can come back.' He looked about him with every intention of remaining, however, and I got to my feet and gave him my hand. 'Mr Buckland, what a pleasure to see you. It has been such a long time.' I waved at the chair opposite. 'Please sit and tell me all of your news. Bessy, some tea for Mr Buckland, please. Have you just come from Oxford?'
'I arrived a few hours ago.' William Buckland sat. 'Thankfully the term has just ended, and I was able to set out almost as soon as I received Mary's letter.' He jumped up again--he was never good at sitting for long--and paced up and down. His forehead was growing larger as his hairline receded, and it gleamed in the firelight. 'It really is remarkable, isn't it? Bless Mary, she has found the most spectacular specimen! We have now incontrovertible evidence of another new creature without having to guess at its anatomy as we did before. How many more ancient animals might we find?' Mr Buckland picked up a sea urchin from the mantelpiece. 'You are very quiet, Miss Philpot,' he said as he examined it. 'What do you think? Is it not magnificent?'
'I have not seen the specimen,' I confessed. 'I've only read about it--though there is little enough in the newspaper account.'
Mr Buckland stared at me. 'What? You've not been to see it? Why ever not? I've just come like lightning all the way from Oxford, and yet you can simply stroll down the hill. Would you like to go now? I am going back again and can accompany you.' He set down the sea urchin and held out his elbow for me to take.
I sighed. It had been impossible to get Mr Buckland to understand that Mary and I no longer had anything to do with each other. Though I counted him as a friend, he was not the sort of man who was sensitive to others' feelings. To Mr Buckland life was about the pursuit of knowledge rather than the expression of emotions. Almost forty years old, he showed no sign of marrying, to no one's surprise, for what lady could put up with his erratic behaviour and profound interest in the dead rather than the living?
'I'm afraid I cannot go with you, Mr Buckland,' I said now. 'I have a chesty cough and have been ordered by my sisters to stay by the fire.' This much at least was true.
'A pity!' Mr Buckland sat down again.
'The newspaper says Mary's find is unlike either the ichthyosaurus or the plesiosaurus--what has been guessed at about the latter, anyway.'
'Oh no, it is a plesiosaurus,' Mr Buckland declared. 'This one has a head, and it is just as we'd imagined--so small compared to the rest of the body. And the paddles! I have made Mary promise to clean them first. But I have not told you why I have come to see you, Miss Philpot. It is this: I want you to convince the Annings not to sell this specimen to Colonel Birch as they did the last one. He sold that on to the Royal College of Surgeons, and we would rather this one not go there as well.'
'He sold it on? Why would he do that?' I gripped the arms of my chair. Any mention of Colonel Birch made me tense with nerves.
