The Black Swan (34 page)

“I think you imagined it.”

“Why should I … suddenly? I saw him clearly.”

“It’s this old place. There are stories about the ghosts here. Wasn’t there supposed to be someone who sat on that seat?”

I nodded.

“Well, that’s just the place where you would expect to see a ghost and with that on your mind …”

“It wasn’t on my mind. I hadn’t thought of it for some time.”

“It couldn’t possibly be anything but imagination.”

“You don’t believe people can come back after death?”

“No,” he said emphatically.

“Even if that death was violent … even if someone had helped to send them to the gallows?”

“No. I don’t believe it, nor must you. You were tired and images from the past came into your mind. You say you saw him before … the murder. Well, that image must have been somewhere in your mind. You were sleepy, and there has been all that talk about the garden being haunted. The picture came into your mind and you
thought
you saw it.”

“You make it all seem so reasonable … so logical.”

“There must be a logical reason for everything, Lucie, but sometimes it’s hard to find.”

“You’re making me feel so much better, Roland.”

“Then I am glad, my dearest.”

He had taken a lock of my hair and was twirling it in his fingers. He said gently, “I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you always from all the ghosts on earth.”

I lay against him, drawing comfort. I supposed I had imagined it. But I could not think why, for I had not thought of the man for a long time.

Roland said suddenly, “It’s still on your mind, isn’t it? This proves it. Do you know, I think we ought to get away from here.”

“Get away!”

“I have been thinking of this for some time. You see, this is
your
house. You are my wife now and I think we ought to have a home of our own—provided by me.”

“I couldn’t give up Manor Grange.”

“You could come back to it, but you need not be here all the time. However, it is something we could think about. Naturally we don’t want to rush into anything. You see, it’s a little complicated. I should be nearer Bradford. I have not been up there much lately … well, meeting you, and getting married … It’s made a difference. But now we are settled, I ought to be there a little more for business reasons. It could mean long separations if I don’t do something about it and I wouldn’t want that. I hope you wouldn’t either.”

“Of course I shouldn’t.”

“So … I’ve been thinking … I ought to get a place … provide you with a home. It’s what I want to do, Lucie.”

“You mean … we should live there … mostly?”

“Not necessarily. We’d keep the
pied-à-terre
for when we were in London … which would be often, of course. … And you’d have Manor Grange. I know that’s essential. You feel sentimental about the servants. But this is what I’ve had in mind for some time. The fact is, Lucie, I don’t think this place is good for you. There are too many associations … and tonight has made me feel the matter is urgent. Do think about it.”

“I can’t say, Roland. Manor Grange has always been a home to me … much more than the London house.”

“But this ghost …”

“It’s true I’ve always heard the place was haunted, but by benevolent ghosts … a loving mother come back to be with her daughter. It was very different from what I saw … or thought I saw … tonight.”

“I have wanted to talk to you about it all so much, Lucie. But I did know that you had suffered a terrible shock. That sort of thing has its effect. Even when you think it is behind you, it can leap out and confront you. You married me … and I thought a different way of life would make you forget. But here … you are with a part of the old days. You can’t forget here.”

“And you think … if we went away …?”

“I do. I don’t want to rush it. We could rent a place … while we looked round to find something just what you wanted, somewhere where you could get right away from everything that has happened. And as I shall have to be in Yorkshire … well, perhaps we could look for a place near Bradford. Give it a try, Lucie. I think it is the answer.”

I wondered if he were right. He could well be. I had so looked forward to being at Manor Grange, but it had not been quite what I had hoped for; and I could see that Mrs. Emery had taken a dislike to Phillida … and after what I had seen … or imagined I saw … in the garden … perhaps we should find somewhere.

I was not really sure what I wanted.

I said, “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Of course,” he answered, kissing me. “It was insensitive of me to bring it up now. It just came out, I’m afraid.”

“It was kind and thoughtful of you. You are always kind and thoughtful. I expect you’re right. I expect it is this house and the talk of ghosts … and all the memories of my father, of course.”

“Yes,” he said. “Just let’s brood on this idea of the house.”

It was a long time before I slept and when I did I had a nightmare. I was going to look at a house with a prospect of buying it. I entered an old place. It was just like Manor Grange and as I stood in the hall a figure came down the stairs. He was dressed in an opera hat and black cloak and, as he bowed, taking off his hat, I saw how the hair grew to a peak on his forehead. I noticed the white scar on his cheek.

I awoke screaming. Roland held me tightly, comforting me.

I slept late next morning and was awakened by Phillida at my bedside.

“Lucie,” she said gently. “You’ve have a bad night. Roland told me about it.”

I started up and my gaze went to the window. She followed it and I knew that when she said “Roland told me,” she meant that he had told her everything about my hallucination, as he would call it.

“I think you should rest this morning,” she went on. “I’m going to prop you up and you’ll feel better when you’ve eaten. I’ve brought your breakfast. I prepared it myself … coffee … toast and marmalade and a lightly boiled egg.”

“Oh, Phillida, there’s no need. I’m all right.”

“No, you’re not.” She could be forceful. I could see what Mrs. Emery objected to. And there would be trouble about her preparing my breakfast. Mrs. Emery was probably at this moment stating that some people did not seem to know that in a house like this it was the servants who prepared breakfasts.

Phillida insisted on propping me up with pillows and proudly she set the tray before me. Oddly enough, although I did not feel hungry, I found myself almost absentmindedly eating what she had brought. But I did feel a little better. It was surprising what daylight does for fancies. Of course, I was telling myself, I had imagined it. It was an image lodged in the back of my mind and it came out from time to time. It was significant that I had thought I saw him on the haunted seat.

“That’s better,” she said. “I’m sorry, Lucie. Roland did tell me. I hope you didn’t mind. He was so worried. He wanted advice.”

“I think I must have been overwrought—though I don’t know why. I was tired, of course.”

“I think it is the talk about ghostly revenants in this house.”

“Is there such talk now?”

“Yes, among the servants. Lady Somebody … long since dead … is said to come back … and she still seems to be hanging around … according to them.”

“I hadn’t been thinking of that. But I was here so much with Celeste and my father.”

“That’s it, you see. It’s all to do with this shocking business. Roland and I have been thinking seriously about getting away.”

“He mentioned it last night.”

“Well, you see, he has neglected things in Yorkshire quite a bit lately. He really needs to have a place near Bradford.”

“He told me that.”

“This is a lovely house. Don’t think we don’t enjoy being here … immensely. But Roland says it’s living on your bounty. Well, you know what men are. They like to feel that they are the providers.”

“I understand all that.”

“I’m so glad you do. He knows how you feel about this house. You never want to let it go. Roland said something about it’s being in trust …”

“I’m not sure whether that applies to the house, but it does to everything else.”

“Well, I don’t understand these matters. But I do know how you feel about this place … and you wouldn’t want to upset the all-important Mrs. Emery.” She grimaced. “I’ve got on the wrong side of her somehow. I think that could be straightened out in time though.”

“I’m sure it could.”

“In any case, at the moment she would be rather pleased to see me gone. I know what it is. She feels we are living at your expense. We understand it … in a way. Do you think we should be more comfortable … somewhere else? Roland’s idea is for you to choose a house … somewhere near Bradford. What do you think?”

“I should keep Manor Grange, whatever happened. You do realize that?”

“Of course. It will be a place to visit often. Then we shall be coming to London for short stays. I’m sure that would placate Mrs. Emery.”

“She likes the house to be full of visitors. When my father was alive …”

Phillida put her fingers to her lips and shook her head at me. “Well,” she said. “What do you think? There’d be no harm in looking around.”

“I suppose not.”

“It’s really rather exciting. I love looking at houses, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do think it is rather fascinating.”

“Perhaps you would like a modern place … somewhere where nobody … or very few people have lived before, so that no secrets or ghosts are left behind.”

“I don’t know. I’ve always loved old houses.”

“Well, won’t it be fun to look? Roland says he wants
you
to make the choice. He was so worried about you last night.”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s downstairs. He’s had a letter from Bradford. They want him to go up next week. He’s rather upset about it. I think he’ll want to take you with him. I shall go, of course. I’ll have things to do there and he wouldn’t want to leave you in this place without us.”

“He is kind and thoughtful … always.”

“Well, he’s your husband, isn’t he? And I love you too, Lucie. I keep thinking of that awful night … and what might have happened. Why, of course! It’s the shock of that.”

“What do you mean?”

“What happened that night.”

“You mean that fire? It has nothing to do with that.”

“But it happened in this house. It could have been … oh, I can’t say it. It was the shock. Shock has strange effects. You did not seem so very upset on the surface. Your feelings have been driven inward and have manifested themselves in this vision in the garden.”

“It sounds a little contrived to me,” I said, and found that I could laugh.

Phillida was laughing with me. “You are laughing at me really. You and Roland are a pair. Roland always laughs at me and my wild antics, as he calls them. But I do think that might be a good and reasonable explanation of your vision last night.” She was earnest suddenly. “I am going to look after you, Lucie … just as I have looked after Roland. And the more I think of getting away from this place, the more I believe it to be the right answer.”

She surveyed the breakfast tray with pleasure, for I had eaten everything.

“I feel perfectly all right now,” I said. “I am going to get up.”

She kissed me lightly on the forehead.

“Thank you, Phillida,” I went on.

“Don’t you worry,” she said. “Roland and I are here with you. We are the magnificent triumvirate. We’ll stand together and beat all the hobgoblins in England if need be.”

She had certainly succeeded in banishing the horrors of the previous night, if not completely, which would have been impossible, to some extent.

Over the next few days there was a great deal of talk about looking for a house in Yorkshire. I felt a certain enthusiasm for the project. I could not cast off the memory of what I had seen. Every night before I went to bed, I would go to the window and look out, half-expecting to see the man or ghost—whatever it was—sitting there. There would be a rush of panic as I approached the window and an intense relief when I saw the seat was empty.

I would go to it by day and sit there, thinking. The past was back with him. I could not stop thinking of the night when I had waited for my father to come home from the House, when he had stayed the night with the Greenhams, so giving himself a few more hours of life. I thought of the following day, when I had looked straight at that man after he had fired the shot which killed my father.

I was back in the past. It would never be completely gone … not until I knew the truth—whether there were two men with widow’s peaks and scarred cheeks, whether the figure which haunted me was indeed a man or an image conjured up out of my tortured imagination.

But if I had condemned an innocent man and the real murderer still lived to taunt me, how could he have come to Manor Grange? How could he have sat there on the haunted seat?

The most likely explanation was, of course, that I had imagined what I saw. I had been far more shocked than I had realized at the time it happened; and the episode of the fire must have affected me more than I imagined.

These thoughts obsessed me during the next few days; and then another shock awaited me.

The local newspaper was always available during the morning; and I took my copy and went into the garden to glance through it. Boldly I went to the haunted seat and, sitting down, began to read. There were the usual local matters … an account of a wedding and two funerals. People were more interested in their immediate circle than in the whole wide world.

Then a paragraph caught my eye, and my heart began to hammer as I read. It was brief and to the point:

The Members of Parliament, Mr. James Hunter and Mr. Joel Greenham, are on their way back to England. It will be remembered that they were taking part in a mission to Buganda. When returning to their hotel one night the two gentlemen disappeared and were thought to have been robbed and murdered by thieves. In fact, they were kidnapped and have spent several months in captivity. Their release has now been secured and they are on their way back to England to be reunited with their families.

I read me paragraph through several times. Was I dreaming? Was this another hallucination? Could Joel really be alive? I went up to me bedroom. I was thankful that I did not meet anyone. I could only say to myself: Joel has come home. He is really alive.