Her Own Rules (22 page)

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“Finally, our daughter, Catherine, was born. The most perfect baby any of us had ever seen. Beautiful, with Jack’s bright blue eyes. And then three years later tragedy came to Silver Lake. Jack died, just like that, in the flick of an eyelash. He had a heart attack when he was talking to Pete O’Brien on the front lawn. And he never knew he had a heart problem, none of us did.” Meredith sat back in her chair, stared off into space, lost again in that faraway time.

“And then what happened?” Hilary asked after a few seconds had elapsed. “Please continue.”

“What happened? We
grieved
, Amelia and I. We were so sorrowful. But I had the baby to look after and the inn to run for Amelia…so much work in those days, but I was young, strong…I had my hands full but I coped. And poor Amelia was in such a bad way, I had to take care of her as well. You see, she did not really want to live after Jack’s death, and by the following spring she was fading. I knew she was not long for this world. At least, I felt that, felt that she was literally willing herself to die. My heart grew heavier and heavier as the months passed. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her so soon after Jack…the very idea of it filled me with dread.

“One day, a Friday it was, Amelia and I were sitting together in the mud room of the hotel, arranging daffodils for the restaurant tables. Cat was playing on the steps in the spring sunshine. Suddenly Amelia looked at me in the most peculiar way, and she told me she had made a will. ‘It’s all for you and Cat, Meri. I’ve no

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one else to leave all this to, and besides, Catherine is a Silver. The last of the Silvers, at this moment in time, until she grows up and has a Silver of her own. So all this belongs to the child, Jack’s child.
You
must keep it safe for her. I trust you to do the right thing; you’re smart, Meri. If you ever have to sell the inn for any reason, then do so. Or rent it out, if running it gets to be too much for you. But keep the land, keep the Silver Lake property, no matter what. It is already worth millions, and can only increase in value. That’s what Jack would want you to do, Meri, he’d want you to keep the land. It’s belonged to the Silvers for almost two hundred years.’ As you can probably imagine, I was stunned, Dr. Benson. Aghast that she knew Catherine was Jack’s child.

“Once I’d recovered from my surprise, I asked Amelia how she had guessed about the baby, and she gave me that weird look again and said, ‘But I’ve always known, Meri, since the day you became pregnant.’ I suppose I must have looked extremely baffled, and so she went on to explain. ‘Jack told me, Meri dear,’ she said, and then took hold of my hand, held it tightly in hers. ‘He loved me from childhood, but he loved you, too, and he needed you desperately, Meri. He was a virile young man, full of passion. I was of no use to him as a woman anymore, not after my accident. He never looked at another woman and for years he was celibate, until you came here. He fell for you, Meri. And once you were pregnant he wanted the child, oh how he wanted it, my darling. And I’ve never begrudged the relation-Her Own Rules / 229

ship he had with you. I knew he would never hurt me or leave me. And I also knew you would always be loyal to me. I loved Jack so much, Meri, and I love you and the baby, too. She’s like my child.’ And she meant every word, Dr. Benson, Amelia always spoke the truth.”

Meredith fell silent again. Remembering that particular day with Amelia, so long ago now, still affected her deeply. Her eyes were bright with tears when she eventually focused her gaze on the psychiatrist. “Amelia died later that year—1974—and she made me a wealthy woman and Cat an heiress. She did leave us everything, and there was so much more than the Silver Lake Inn and the land. There was her own estate, which she had inherited from her mother. She made a few bequests, to Pete O’Brien, who had run the property for years, and his wife, Blanche, and other people who worked at the inn. But the bulk of the Silver estate and her own inheritance came to us. And yet I would have given it all up just to have Amelia back. I longed for her, grieved for her for years. And I also grieved for Jack.”

“It’s a most unusual story, very moving,” Hilary said, her voice low, compassionate. She had noted Meredith’s emotions a moment before, and she fully understood how much Meredith had cared for the couple. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Meredith if she thought the Silvers had used her as a surrogate, and then she instantly changed her mind. In her heart of hearts, Hilary knew this was not the case. She believed that Meredith had told her the 230 / Barbara Taylor Bradford

story of her life with the Silvers exactly the way it had happened. Her words had the ring of truth to them.

She might well be lying about other parts of her life, but not about these particular years.

There was a carafe of water on a console table nearby, and Meredith rose, went to pour herself a glass.

Turning to look at Hilary, she murmured, “I am convinced my attacks of fatigue have nothing to do with my early years in Connecticut. I was very happy with the Silvers, they were very good to me.”

“I know,” Hilary replied. “And I think you are right.

The attacks are not related to that time at all. So we must dig deeper, go further back. But I don’t know when we can do this. Unless you come in for another session before you leave for London and Paris. That would give us a start, at least.”

Meredith hesitated momentarily, and then she made a decision. “All right,” she said, “I’ll come tomorrow afternoon if you can fit me in.”

“Let me check my other appointments with my secretary,” Hilary responded, pressing the button of the intercom.

That night Meredith dreamed the dream of her childhood again.

After a light supper she had gone to bed early.

She had a number of important appointments the next morning, and she also wanted to clear her desk before her afternoon session with Hilary Benson.

Almost immediately she fell into a sound sleep, Her Own Rules / 231

and it was a dreamless sleep for most of the night.

Then just as dawn was breaking she awakened with a start and sat bolt upright in bed. Her face, neck, and chest were covered with beads of sweat, and she was filled with apprehension.

Snapping on the light, she glanced around the room, and then she lay back against the pillows. After a moment, she reached for a tissue on the bedside table, wiped her neck and face, and then crumpled the damp tissue in a ball in her hand.

She had just had that awful dream again, and as always, it alarmed her. She focused on it, remembering.

She was alone in the vast, parched landscape.

She was looking for the little girl and boy. But she could not find them. They had disappeared, had fallen through a giant crack in the earth’s surface. She had seen them dropping away, and she was afraid for them. Now she must find them again. They knew. They knew the answer to the secret.

She walked and walked, her eyes scanning the landscape. Just as she gave up hope of ever finding them again, they appeared at the edge of the dried mudflats. She was so happy she had found them. The boy took off his school cap and waved it in the air. Suddenly they were all together, the three of them holding hands, walking across the vast and arid

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landscape toward the far horizon. Now she was dressed like the little girl. She wore a dark coat, a long, striped scarf around her neck and a beret on her head. They all had giant labels on their coats. Luggage labels. She peered at the little girl’s label. The writing was smudged from the rain. She could not read the name. Or the name of the boy. She looked down at her own luggage label. This, too, was indistinct. What was her name? She did not know.

Ahead of them was the great ship. It was so huge it loomed up high on the docks. The little girl was afraid. She did not want to go on the ship. She began to cry. The boy cried and so did she. None of them wanted to go on board. Tears rolled down their cheeks. It was so cold the tears froze on their skin. It began to snow.

The sea was like black oil. They were afraid, terrified. They clung to each other, weeping. They were led off the ship. They had reached their destination. It was the gray cracked landscape where nothing grew. The sky was very blue; the sun blistering. They walked and walked. There were many, many children, all walking until they came to the black sea once more. And they all walked into the sea. She pulled back; she would not move. She tried to stop the little Her Own Rules / 233

girl from walking into the sea, walking to her doom. But she could not. The girl moved away from her, and so did the boy. Together the two of them walked into the sea. She tried to shout at them to stop. But no words came out of her mouth. She was alone again on the mudflats.

And she was afraid. They knew the answer to the secret. She did not. Now they had gone. Forever.

And so she would never know.

This time the dream had been different, Meredith realized that as she examined every detail of it. She wondered what it meant; she had no idea. But she now resolved to tell Hilary Benson about it. Perhaps the psychiatrist would have an explanation for her.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” Meredith said to Dr. Benson later that afternoon.

Hilary looked at her alertly. “Oh, and what is that, Meredith?”

“It’s something to do with my attacks. At least, I think that’s so. Certainly it started again after my second attack.”

“What started again?”

“The dream. It’s a nightmare, in fact, and I’ve had it on and off for years.”

“How many years?” Hilary asked, leaning forward over the desk, scrutinizing her patient intently.

“For as long as I can remember. Since I was 234 / Barbara Taylor Bradford

about twelve, thirteen, perhaps even a few years younger. The dream stopped when I first came to Connecticut. In fact, I had it only once in the early years there, when I first started working for Jack and Amelia at the inn. Then it occurred a couple of times in my twenties, again in my thirties. But I hadn’t had it since then until January of this year.”

“And the dream occurred after you had an attack of fatigue?”

“Yes. I was in the Loire Valley, staying with a friend.

I suddenly felt ill that afternoon and I went upstairs to rest in my room. I fell asleep, I was so tired. And I had the dream. When I awakened I was startled that it had come back after so many years, and also that I felt the same way.”

“How did you feel?”

“Frightened, alarmed.”

“Try to recount the dream for me, please, Meredith.”

Meredith nodded and did as the psychiatrist asked.

Then she explained that the dream had differed slightly each time she had had it in the past few months.

“So last night in the dream you were finally reunited with the boy and the girl in the arid landscape,” Hilary said. “Was there anything else? Anything different?”

“Yes. There was the ship in the dream…” Meredith left her sentence unfinished, snapped her eyes shut.

“Are you all right?” Hilary asked.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she answered, instantly opening her eyes. “Dr. Benson?”

“Yes?”

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“What do dreams mean?”

“I think they are usually manifestations of impres-sions we store in our subconscious. Then again, sometimes what truly frightens a person can come to the fore in sleep, when the unconscious rises. I personally think that we dream our memories, and also dream our terrors, Meredith.”

“So what do you think my recurring nightmare means?”

“I’m not certain. Only by talking, exploring a little more, can we eventually come to some interpretation of it.”

Meredith took a deep breath. Unexpectedly and in-explicably she felt as if she were choking. Agitation took hold of her. She had to get out of there; she needed air. She stood up, then sat down again with sudden abruptness. She thought she was going to open her mouth and start screaming. She compressed her lips, striving for control.

Hilary Benson frowned, stared at her. Then she realized that Meredith, who had always appeared the calmest of women, was suffering from acute agitation.

She was twisting her hands together anxiously, and her eyes had opened wide.

“You’re suddenly extremely upset. What is it, Meredith?”

Meredith said nothing; she began to shake visibly, and she wrapped her arms around her body, hugged herself.

Hilary Benson jumped up, went to her, put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

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Meredith gaped at Hilary. Her eyes filled with tears.

“I’ve not told you the truth…not told anyone…not ever…”

Hilary hurried to her desk, picked up the phone, and spoke to her secretary. “I can’t see any other patients at the moment, Janice. Please reschedule them for another day. I have an emergency with Mrs. Stratton.”

Walking back to Meredith, who was bent double in the chair, rocking back and forth, the psychiatrist took hold of her arm, forced her upright.

“Come to the sofa, Meredith, sit with me. You’re going to tell me everything. Slowly, in your own time.

There’s no hurry.” She had spoken softly, sympathetic-ally, and Meredith allowed herself to be led to the sofa.

The two women sat down.

There was a long silence.

Finally, Meredith began to speak in a low voice. “I don’t know who I am. Or where I come from. I don’t know who my parents were. Or my real name. I have no identity. I invented myself. I made my own rules and I lived by them. I had no one to teach me. No one to love me. I was completely alone. Until I met the Silvers. For seventeen years I was a lost soul. I’m still a lost soul in some ways. Help me…Oh God.
Who am
I?
Where do I come from? Who gave birth to me?”

Meredith was weeping, the tears gushing out of her eyes and falling down onto her hands. She was in an agony of despair, and she started to rock back and forth again.

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Hilary Benson let Meredith weep. She said nothing, did nothing, and presently the tears stopped. She handed Meredith a box of tissues in silence. Then she walked over to the console, poured a glass of water, and brought it to her patient.