The Lady and the Lake (33 page)

‘Is
she
dead
then?’
I
asked
quietly.

‘Yes
I
am
afraid
so.’
He
squeezed
my
hand
as
he
told
me.

‘She
tried
to
kill
me,’
I
admitted,
a
sob
escaping
my
lips.
‘She
held
my
head
underwater.
She
also
killed
poor
Annie
and
Gladys,’
I
told
him,
tears
of
relief
streaming
down
my
face.

‘That
explains
why
your
lovely
hair
was
wringing
wet,
I
must
tell
my
cousin
who
is
with
the
police
at
this
moment.
We
did
think
there
was
something
strange
about
it
all.
What
possessed
you
to
walk
out
at
such
a
time?’
asked
Thomas.

‘It
was
the
moonlight,
everything
looked
so
pleasant,
I
thought
the
fresh air
would
help
me
sleep,
but
the
lake
will
now
only
hold
dread
for
me
whether
by
sunlight
or
the
silvery
light
of
the
moon.’
As
I
spoke
I
looked
across
Thomas’
shoulder
and
gave
an
encouraging
smile
to
Maggie
who
looked
quite
worried.

‘Try
to
put
it
from
your
mind,
Maggie
will
get
you
some
hot
broth
while
I
speak
to
Antony.’
As
Thomas
left
me
he
gave
my
hand
a
loving
squeeze,
but
I
knew
that
no
matter
how
hard
I
tried
the
thought
of
that
night
would
take
a
long
time
to
fade
from
my
memory.
I
would
keep
feeling
my
head
under
water
and
see
Alice
thrashing
about
in
the
cool
lake.

When
I
was
strong
enough
I
got
out
of
bed
and
with
Maggie’s
help
went
to
look
from
the
window,
the
sun
was
shining
again
and
thankfully
I
was
at
the
front
of
the
building.
I
would
have
to
leave
this
place
as
soon
as
I
was
able.

11

When
that
day
arrived,
I
asked
Maggie
if
she
would
kindly
gather
my
things
together
in
my
valise
for
me,
to
which
she
agreed.
I’d
seen
little
of
Thomas
since
the
day
I
awoke,
nothing
had
been
said
about
his
proposal
of
marriage
and
I
was
beginning
to
think
I’d
dreamt
everything
good
and
bad
since
I’d
arrived
at
Kerslake
Hall.

Maggie
brought
my
packed
valise
to
me,
my
best
blue
dress
and
petticoat
over
her
arm.

‘Two
people
have
requested
to
see
you,’
she
ordered,
and
so
I
did
as
I
was
bid,
slipping
the
blue
dress
on
and
thinking
of
Alice
as
I
did
so,
and
how
she’d
cut
off
the
silk
flowers
in
a
frenzy
of
jealousy.

‘And
who
wishes
to
see
me?’
I
asked
Maggie,
straightening
the
skirts
of
my
dress
and
thinking
how
loose
it
was
at the
waist.
I’d
obviously
lost
weight,
but
who
wouldn’t
after
the
ordeal
I’d
been
through.

‘Mrs
Kershaw
and
Mr
Craddock
in
that
order,
Miss
Abbey,’
Maggie
told
me
as
she
brushed
and
arranged
my
hair
on
her
insistence.

So
I
walked
towards
the
main
staircase
at
Kerslake
Hall.
As
I
reached
the
top
of
it
I
could
see
that
I
was
on
the
opposite
side
of
the
long
gallery.
Seeing
the
door
I
went
to
open
it
and
stepped
inside
looking
at
the
paintings
on
the
wall
recalling
how
Thomas
had
loosened
my
hair
that
day
which
seemed
so
long
ago.

I
walked
down
to
the
portrait
of
Henrietta
Kershaw
and
stood
for
some
time
looking
at
the
lovely
face
which
looked
back
at
me
and
I
thought
of
the
old
lady’s
words
that
night
in
the
tower,
‘Value
your
beauty
Abigail,
cherish
it
for
one
day
it
will
be
gone.’

As
I
made
my
way
back
to
the
door,
I
took
a
look
through
the
squint
in
the
wall
and
could
see
Thomas
crossing
the hall
to
what
I
now
knew
to
be
the
drawing-room
and
in
my
mind
could
see
Alice
crossing
the
hall
on
that
other
occasion.

Alice,
who
had
turned
out
to
be
a
murderess.
I
shuddered
at
the
very
thought
of
myself
lying
under
the
still
water
of
the
lake
and
made
my
way
back
to
the
stairs,
descending
them
slowly
to
the
black
and
white
hall
below,
the
hem
of
my
blue
skirts
brushing
the
carpet
beneath
my
feet.

Tapping
on
Mrs
Kershaw’s
sitting-room
door,
I
recalled
the
day
of
my
arrival
and
my
employer’s
acid
tongue.
Since
then
in
a
few
short
weeks
I
had
learnt
much
about
her
and
could
forgive
her.

‘Come
in,’
called
a
much
softer
voice.
I
opened
the
door
and
entered
the
room,
sunlight
did
not
flood
the
room
with
its
rays
at
this
time
of
day
so
I
did
not
feel
at
a
disadvantage
as
I
had
on
that
other
occasion.

‘You
look
well,
Abigail.
A
little
thinner
it
is
true,
but
after
all
you
have been
through
could
any
one
of
us
be
surprised.’
As
Henrietta
Kershaw
spoke
I
looked
at
her,
gone
was
the
veil
and
she
wore
a
cheerful
red
dress
which
suited
her
silver
grey
hair.

Like
anyone
else
I
would
see
through
the
scars
and
twisted
face
to
see
the
person
beneath.
The
woman
I
now
looked
at
was
far
different
to
the
sharp,
bitter
old
lady
who
had
been
there
before.
‘I
thank
you
and
my
nephew,’
she
continued,
‘for
I
have
decided
to
make
the
most
of
my
life
and
hideaway
no
longer.’

‘That
is
good
to
hear,
Mrs
Kershaw,’
I
said
honestly.

‘I
understand
you
wish
to
leave
us,’
the
new
Henrietta
observed.

‘That
is
true,
for
after
my
experience
at
the
lake,’
here
my
voice
trembled,
‘I
sadly
cannot
stay.’

‘I
shall
be
sorry
to
see
you
go,’
said
Henrietta,
‘for
you
stood
up
to
me
and
helped
me
to
see
myself
as
I
had
become
over
the
years,
but
trust
me
when
I
say
you
have
a
good
life
ahead of
you
and
you’ve
not
seen
the
last
of
me,
I
promise.’