Chapters 25-27 (End) | Rebecca | Bedtime Story

Chapter 25 It was then that Maxim looked at me.

He looked at me for the first time that evening,

And in his eyes I read a message of farewell.

It was as though he leant against the side of a ship,

And I stood below him on the quay.

There would be other people touching his shoulder and touching mine,

But we would not see them,

Nor would we speak or call to one another.

For the wind and the distance would carry away the sound of our voices.

But I should see his eyes,

And he would see mine,

Before the ship drew away from the side of the quay.

Favell,

Mrs.

Danvers,

Colonel Julian,

Frank,

With a slip of paper in his hands.

They were all forgotten at this moment.

It was ours,

And Violet,

A fraction of time suspended between two seconds.

And then he turned away and held out his hand to Frank.

Well done,

He said.

What's the address?

Somewhere near Barnet,

South of London,

Said Frank,

Giving him the paper.

But it's not on the telephone.

We can't ring him up.

Satisfactory work,

Crawley,

Said Colonel Julian,

And from you too,

Mrs.

Danvers.

Can you throw any light on the matter now?

Mrs.

Danvers shook her head.

Mrs.

DeWinter never needed a doctor.

Like all strong people,

She despised them.

We only had Dr.

Phillips from Carroth here once.

That time she sprained her wrist.

I've never heard her speak of this Dr.

Baker.

She never mentioned his name to me.

I tell you,

The fella was a face cream mixer,

Said Favell.

What the hell does it matter who he was?

If there was anything to it,

Danny would know.

I tell you,

It's some fool fellow who had discovered a new way of bleaching the hair,

Or whitening the skin.

And Rebecca had probably got the address from her hairdresser that morning,

And went along after lunch out of curiosity.

No,

Said Frank.

I think you're wrong there.

Baker wasn't a quack.

The night porter at Museum 0488 told me he was a very well-known woman specialist.

Hmm,

Said Colonel Julian,

Pulling at his mustache.

There must have been something wrong with her after all.

It seems very curious that she did not say a word to anybody,

Not even to you,

Mrs.

Danvers.

She was too thin,

Said Favell.

I told her about it,

But she only laughed.

Said it suited her.

Banting,

I suppose,

Like all these women.

Perhaps she went to this old chap Baker for a diet sheet.

Do you think that's possible,

Mrs.

Danvers?

Asked Colonel Julian.

Mrs.

Danvers shook her head slowly.

She seemed dazed,

Bewildered by the sudden news about Baker.

I can't understand it,

She said.

I don't know what it means.

Baker,

A Dr.

Baker.

Why didn't she tell me?

Why did she keep it from me?

She told me everything.

Perhaps she didn't want to worry you,

Said Colonel Julian.

No doubt she made an appointment with him,

And saw him.

And then,

When she came down that night,

She was going to have told you all about it.

And the note to Mr.

Jack,

Said Mrs.

Danvers suddenly.

That note to Mr.

Jack.

I have something to tell you,

I must see you.

She was going to tell him too?

That's true,

Said Favell slowly.

We were forgetting the note.

Once more he pulled it out of his pocket,

And read it to us aloud.

I've got something to tell you,

And I want to see you as soon as possible,

Rebecca.

Of course,

There's no doubt about it,

Said Colonel Julian,

Turning to Maxim.

I wouldn't mind betting a thousand pounds on it.

She was going to tell Favell,

The rest of that interview,

With this Dr.

Baker.

I believe you're right,

After all.

Said Favell.

The note,

And that appointment,

Seemed to hang together.

But what the hell was it all about?

That's what I want to know.

What was the matter with her?

The truth screamed in their faces,

And they did not see.

They all stood there,

Staring at one another,

And they did not understand.

I dared not look at them.

I dared not move,

Lest I betray my knowledge.

Maxim said nothing.

He had gone back to the window,

And was looking out into the garden that was hushed and dark and still.

The rain had ceased at last,

But the spots fell from the dripping leaves,

And from the gutter above the window.

It ought to be quite easy to verify,

Said Frank.

Here's the doctor's present address.

I can write him a letter,

And ask him if he remembers an appointment last year with Mrs.

DeWinter.

I don't know if he would take any notice of it.

Said Colonel Julian.

There is so much of this etiquette in the medical profession.

Every case is confidential,

You know.

The only way to get anything out of him would be to get DeWinter to see him privately,

And explain the circumstances.

What do you say,

DeWinter?

Maxim turned round from the window.

I'm ready to do whatever you care to suggest,

He said quietly.

Anything for time,

Eh?

Said Favell.

A lot can be done in twenty-four hours,

Can't it?

Trains can be caught.

Ships can sail.

Aeroplanes can fly.

I saw Mrs.

Danvers look sharply from Favell to Maxim,

And I realized then,

For the first time,

That Mrs.

Danvers had not known about Favell's accusation.

At last,

She was beginning to understand.

I could tell from the expression on her face.

There was doubt written on it.

Then wonder,

And hatred mixed,

And then conviction.

Once again,

Those lean,

Long hands of hers clutched convulsively at her dress,

And she passed her tongue over her lips.

She went on staring at Maxim.

She never took her eyes away from Maxim.

It's too late,

I thought.

She can't do anything to us now.

The harm is done.

It does not matter what she says to us now,

Or what she does.

The harm is done.

She can't hurt us anymore.

Maxim did not notice her.

Or if he did,

He gave no sign.

He was talking to Colonel Julian.

What do you suggest,

He said.

Shall I go up in the morning?

Drive to this address at Barnett?

I can wire Baker to expect me.

He's not going alone,

Said Favell with a short laugh.

I have a right to insist on that,

Haven't I?

Send him up with Inspector Welch,

And I won't object.

If only Mrs.

Danvers would take her eyes away from Maxim.

Frank had seen her now.

He was watching her,

Puzzled,

Anxious.

I saw him glance once more at the slip of paper in his hands,

On which he had written Dr.

Baker's address.

Then he too glanced at Maxim.

I believe then that some faint idea of the truth began to force itself to his conscious,

For he went very white and put the paper down on the table.

I don't think there is any necessity to bring Inspector Welch into the affair,

Yet,

Said Colonel Julian.

His voice was different,

Harder.

I did not like the way he used the word,

Yet.

Why must he use it at all?

I did not like it.

If I go with De Winter,

And stay with him the whole time,

And bring him back,

Will that satisfy you?

He said.

Favell looked at Maxim,

And then at Colonel Julian.

The expression on his face was ugly,

Calculating,

And there was something of triumph,

Too,

In his light blue eyes.

Yes,

He said slowly.

Yes,

I suppose so,

But for safety's sake,

Do you mind if I come with you,

Too?

No,

Said Colonel Julian.

Unfortunately,

I think you have the right to ask that,

But if you do come,

I have the right to insist on your being sober.

You needn't worry about that,

Said Favell,

Beginning to smile.

I'll be sober,

All right,

Sober as the judge will be when he sentences Max in three months' time.

I rather think this Dr.

Baker is going to prove my case,

After all.

He looked around at each one of us,

And began to laugh.

I think he,

Too,

Had understood,

At last,

The significance of that visit to the doctor.

Well,

He said,

What time are we going to start in the morning?

Colonel Julian looked at Maxim.

How early can you be ready?

Any time you say,

Said Maxim.

Nine o'clock?

Yes,

Said Maxim.

How do we know he won't do a bolt in the night?

Said Favell.

He's only to cut round to the garage and get his car.

Is my word enough for you?

Said Maxim,

Turning to Colonel Julian.

And for the first time,

Colonel Julian hesitated.

I saw him glance at Frank,

And a flush came over Maxim's face.

I saw the little pulse beating on his forehead.

Mrs.

Danvers,

He said slowly,

When Mrs.

DeWinter and I go to bed tonight,

Will you come up yourself and lock the door on the outside,

And call us yourself at seven in the morning?

Yes,

Sir,

Said Mrs.

Danvers.

Still,

She kept her eyes on him.

Still,

Her hands clenched at her dress.

Very well,

Then,

Said Colonel Julian brusquely.

I don't think there is anything else we need to discuss tonight.

I shall be here sharp at nine in the morning.

You will have room for me in your car,

DeWinter?

Yes,

Said Maxim.

And Favell will follow us in his?

Right on your tail,

My dear fellow,

Right on your tail,

Said Favell.

Colonel Julian came up to me and took my hand.

Good night,

He said.

You know how I feel for you in all this.

There's no need for me to tell you.

Get your husband to bed early if you can.

It's going to be a long day.

He held my hand a minute,

And then he turned away.

It was curious how he avoided my eye.

He looked at my chin.

Frank held the door for him as he went out.

Favell leant forward and filled his case with cigarettes from the box on the table.

I suppose I'm not going to be asked to stop to dinner,

He said.

Nobody answered.

He lit one of the cigarettes and blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

It means a quiet evening at the pub on the high road,

Then,

He said.

And the barmaid has a squint.

What a hell of a night I'm going to spend.

Never mind.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

Good night,

Danny,

Old lady.

Don't forget to turn the key and Mr.

DeWinter,

Will you?

He came over to me and held out his hand.

Like a foolish child,

I put my hands behind my back.

He laughed and bowed.

It's just too bad,

Isn't it?

He said.

A nasty man like me coming and spoiling all your fun.

Don't worry.

It will be a great thrill for you when the yellow press gets going with your life story.

And you see the headlines.

From Monte Carlo to Manderley.

Experiences of Murderer's Girl Bride.

Written across the top.

Better luck next time.

He strolled across the room to the door,

Waving his hand to Maxim by the window.

So long,

Old man,

He said.

Pleasant dreams.

Make the most of your night behind that locked door.

He turned and laughed at me,

And then he went out of the room.

Mrs.

Danvers followed him.

Maxim and I were alone.

He went on standing by the window.

He did not come to me.

Jasper came trotting in from the hall.

He had been shut outside all evening.

He came fussing up to me,

Biting the edge of my skirt.

I'm coming with you in the morning,

I said to Maxim.

I'm coming up to London with you in the car.

He did not answer for a moment.

He went on looking out of the window.

Then,

Yes,

He said,

His voice without expression.

Yes,

We must go on being together.

Frank came back into the room.

He stood in the entrance,

His hand on the door.

They've gone,

He said.

Favell and Colonel Julian.

I watched them go.

All right,

Frank,

Said Maxim.

Is there anything I can do,

Said Frank.

Anything at all.

Wire to anyone,

Arrange anything.

I'll stay up all night if only there's anything I can do.

I'll get that wire off to Baker,

Of course.

Don't worry,

Said Maxim.

There's nothing for you to do,

Yet.

There may be plenty,

After tomorrow.

We can go into all of that when the time comes.

Tonight,

We want to be together.

You understand,

Don't you?

Yes,

Said Frank.

Yes,

Of course.

He waited a moment,

His hand on the door.

Good night,

He said.

Good night,

Said Maxim.

When he had gone and shut the door behind him,

Maxim came over to me,

Where I was standing by the fireplace.

I held up my arms to him,

And he came to me like a child.

I put my arms around him and held him.

We did not say anything for a long time.

I held him and comforted him as though he were Jasper.

As though Jasper had hurt himself in some way,

And he had come to me to take his pain away.

We can sit together,

He said,

Driving up in the car.

Yes.

Julian won't mind.

No.

We shall have tomorrow night,

Too,

He said.

They won't do anything at once.

Not for twenty-four hours,

Perhaps.

No,

I said.

They aren't so strict now,

He said.

They let one see people,

And it all takes such a long time.

If I can,

I shall try and get a hold of Hastings.

He's the best.

Hastings or Burkitt?

Hastings used to know my father.

Yes,

I said.

I shall have to tell him the truth,

He said.

It makes it easier for them.

They know where they are.

Yes,

I said.

The door opened,

And Frith came into the room.

I pushed Maxim away.

I stood up straight and conventional,

Patting my hair into place.

Will you be changing,

Madam,

Or shall I serve dinner at once?

No,

Frith.

We won't be changing.

Not tonight,

I said.

Very good,

Madam,

He said.

He left the door open.

Robert came in and began drawing the curtains.

He arranged the cushions,

Straightened the sofa,

Tidied the books and papers on the table.

He took away the whiskey and soda and the dirty ashtrays.

I had seen him do these things as a ritual every evening I had spent at Manderley,

But tonight,

They seemed to take on a special significance,

As though the memory of them would last forever,

And I would say,

Long after,

And some other time,

I remember this moment.

Then Frith came in and told us that dinner was ready.

I remember every detail of that evening.

I remember the ice-cold consomme in the cups,

And the fillets of sole,

And the hot shoulder of lamb.

I remember the burnt sugar sweet,

The sharp savoury that followed.

We had new candles in the silver candlesticks.

They looked white and slim and very tall.

The curtains had been drawn here too,

Against the dull grey evening.

It seemed strange to be sitting in the dining room,

And not look out onto the lawns.

It was like the beginning of autumn.

It was while we were drinking our coffee,

In the library,

That the telephone rang.

This time,

It was I who answered it.

I heard Patrice speaking at the other end.

Is that you?

She said,

I've been trying to get through all evening,

Twice it was engaged.

I'm so sorry,

I said.

So very sorry.

We had the evening papers about two hours ago,

She said,

And the verdict was a frightful shock,

To both Giles and myself.

What does Maxim say about it?

I think it was a shock to everybody,

I said.

But my dear,

The thing is preposterous.

Why on earth should Rebecca have committed suicide?

The most unlikely person in the world.

There must have been a blunder somewhere.

I don't know.

I said.

What does Maxim say?

Where is he?

She said.

People have been here,

I said.

Colonel Julian and others.

Maxim is very tired.

We're going up to London tomorrow.

What on earth for?

Something to do with the verdict.

I can't very well explain.

You ought to get it quashed,

She said.

It's ridiculous,

Quite ridiculous,

And so bad for Maxim.

All this frightful publicity.

It's going to reflect on him.

Yes,

I said.

Surely Colonel Julian can do something,

She said.

He's a magistrate.

What are magistrates for?

Old Horridge from Lanyon must have been off his head.

What was her motive supposed to be?

It's the most idiotic thing I've ever heard in my life.

Someone ought to get a hold of Tab.

How can he tell whether those holes in the boat were made deliberately or not?

Giles said of course it must have been the rocks.

They seem to think not,

I said.

If only I could have been there,

She said.

I should have insisted on speaking.

No one seems to have made any effort.

Is Maxim very upset?

He's tired,

I said.

More tired than anything else.

I wish I could come up to London and join you,

She said.

But I don't see how I can.

Roger has a temperature of 103,

Poor old boy.

And the nurse we've got in is a perfect idiot.

He loathes her.

I can't possibly leave him.

Of course not,

I said.

You mustn't attempt it.

Whereabouts in London will you be?

I don't know,

I said.

It's all rather vague.

Tell Maxim he must try and do something to get that verdict altered.

It's so bad for the family.

I'm telling everybody here it's absolutely wicked.

Rebecca would never have killed herself.

She wasn't the type.

I've got a good mind to write to that coroner myself.

It's too late,

I said.

Much better to leave it.

It won't do any good.

The stupidity of it gets my goat,

She said.

Giles and I think it much more likely that if those holes weren't done by the rocks,

They were done deliberately by some tramp or other.

A communist,

Perhaps.

There are heaps of them about.

Just the sort of thing a communist would do.

Maxim called to me from the library.

Can't you get rid of her?

What on earth is she talking about?

Patrice,

I said desperately.

I'll try and ring you up from London.

Is it any good my tackling Dick Godolphin?

She said.

He's your MP.

I know him very well.

Much better than Maxim does.

He was at Oxford with Giles.

Ask Maxim whether he would like me to telephone Dick and see if he can do anything to quash the verdict.

Ask Maxim what he thinks of this communist idea.

It's no use,

I said.

It can't do any good.

Please,

Patrice,

Don't try and do anything.

It will make it worse.

Much worse.

Rebecca may have had some motive we don't know anything about.

And I don't think communists go ramming holes in boats.

What would be the use?

Please,

Patrice,

Leave it alone.

Oh,

Thank God she had not been with us today.

Thank God for that at least.

Something was buzzing in the telephone.

I heard Patrice shouting,

Hello,

Hello,

Don't cut us off,

Exchange.

And then there was a click and silence.

I went back into the library,

Limp and exhausted.

In a few minutes,

The telephone began ringing again.

I did not do anything.

I let it ring.

I went and sat down at Maxim's feet.

It went on ringing.

I did not move.

Presently it stopped,

As though cut suddenly in exasperation.

The clock on the mantelpiece struck ten o'clock.

Maxim put his arms round me and lifted me against him.

We began to kiss one another,

Feverishly,

Desperately,

Like guilty lovers who have not kissed before.

Chapter 26 When I awoke the next morning,

Just after six o'clock,

And got up and went to the window,

There was a foggy dew upon the grass like frost,

And the trees were shrouded in a white mist.

There was a chill in the air,

And a little,

Fresh wind and the cold,

Quiet smell of autumn.

As I knelt by the window,

Looking down onto the rose garden,

Where the flowers themselves drooped upon their stalks,

The petals brown and dragging after last night's rain,

The happenings of the day before seemed remote and unreal.

Here at Manderley,

A new day was starting.

The things of the garden were not concerned with our troubles.

A blackbird ran across a rose garden to the lawns in swift,

Short rushes,

Stopping now and again to stab at the earth with his yellow beak.

A thrush,

Too,

Went about his business,

And two stout little wagtails,

Following one another,

And a little cluster of twittering sparrows.

A gull poised himself high in the air,

Silent and alone,

And then spread his wings wide,

And swooped beyond the lawns to the woods and the happy valley.

These things continued.

Our worries and anxieties had no power to alter them.

Soon,

The gardeners would be astir,

Brushing the first leaves from the lawns and the paths.

Raking the gravel in the drive.

Pails would clank in the courtyard behind the house.

The hose would be turned on the car.

The little scullery maid would begin to chatter through the open door to the men in the yard.

There would be the crisp,

Hot smell of bacon.

The housemaids would open up the house,

Throw wide the windows,

Draw back the curtains.

The dogs would crawl from their baskets,

Yawn and stretch themselves,

Wander out onto the terrace,

And blink at the first struggles of the pale sun coming through the mist.

Robert would lay the table for breakfast,

Bring in those piping scones,

The clutch of eggs,

The glass dishes of honey,

Jam,

And marmalade,

The bowl of peaches,

The cluster of purple grapes,

With the bloom upon them still,

Hot from the greenhouses.

Maid sweeping in the morning room,

The drawing room,

The fresh clean air pouring into the long open windows,

Smoke curling from the chimneys,

And little by little,

The autumn mist fading away,

And the trees and the banks and the woods taking shape,

The glimmer of the sea showing with the sun upon it below the valley,

The beacon standing tall and straight upon the headland,

The peace of Manderley,

The quietude and the grace,

Whoever lived within its walls,

Whatever trouble there was in strife,

However much uneasiness and pain,

No matter what tears were shed,

What sorrows born,

The peace of Manderley could not be broken or the loveliness destroyed.

The flowers that died would bloom again another year.

The same birds build their nests.

The same trees blossom.

The old quiet moss smell would linger in the air,

And bees would come and crickets,

And herons build their nests in the deep dark woods.

The butterflies would dance their merry jig across the lawns,

And spiders spin foggy webs,

And small startled rabbits who had no business to come trespassing poke their faces through the crowded shrubs.

There would be lilac and honeysuckle still,

And the white magnolia buds unfolding slow and tight beneath the dining room window.

No one would ever hurt Manderley.

It would lie always and hollow like an enchanted thing,

Guarded by the woods,

Safe,

Secure,

While the sea broke and ran and came again in the little shingle bays below.

Maxim slept on,

And I did not wake him.

The day ahead of us would be a weary thing and long.

High roads and telegraph poles,

And the monotony of passing traffic,

The slow crawl into London.

We did not know what we should find at the end of our journey.

The future was unknown.

Somewhere to the north of London lived a man called Baker,

Who had never heard of us,

But he held our future in the hollow of his hand.

Soon he too would be waking,

Stretching,

Yawning,

Going about the business of his day.

I got up and went into the bathroom,

And began to run my bath.

These actions held for me the same significance as Robert and his clearing of the library had the night before.

I had done these things before mechanically,

But now I was aware as I dropped my sponge into the water,

As I spread my towel on the chair from the hot rail,

As I lay back and let the water run over my body.

Every moment was a precious thing,

Having in it the essence of finality.

When I went back to the bedroom and began to dress,

I heard a soft footstep come and pause outside the door,

And the key turn quietly in the lock.

There was silence a moment,

And then the footsteps went away.

It was Mrs.

Danvers.

She had not forgotten.

I had heard the same sound the night before after we had come up from the library.

She had not knocked upon the door.

She had not made herself known.

There was just the sound of footsteps,

And the turning of the key in the lock.

It brought me to reality and the facing of the immediate future.

I finished dressing and went and turned on Maxim's bath.

Presently Clarice came in with our tea.

I woke Maxim.

He stared at me at first like a puzzled child,

And then he held out his arms.

We drank our tea.

He got up and went to his bath,

And I began putting things methodically in my suitcase.

It might be that we should have to stay in London.

I packed the brushes Maxim had given me,

A nightdress,

My dressing gown and slippers,

And another dress too and a pair of shoes.

My dressing case looked unfamiliar as I dragged it from the back of a wardrobe.

It seemed so long since I had used it,

And yet,

It was only four months ago.

It still had the customs mark upon it they had chalked at Calais,

And one of the pockets was a concert ticket from the casino in Monte Carlo.

I crumpled it and threw it into the waste paper basket.

It might have belonged to another age,

Another world.

My bedroom began to take on the appearance of all the rooms when the owner goes away.

The dressing table was bare without my brushes.

There was tissue paper lying on the floor and an old label.

The beds,

Where we had slept,

Had a terrible emptiness about them.

The towels lay crumpled on the bathroom floor.

The wardrobe doors gaped open.

I put on my hat so that I should not have to come up again,

And I took my bag and my gloves and my suitcase.

I glanced around the room to see if there was anything I had forgotten.

The mist was breaking.

The sun was forcing its way through and throwing patterns on the carpet.

When I was halfway down the passage,

I had a curious,

Inexplicable feeling that I must go back and look in my room again.

I went without reason and stood a moment looking at the gaping wardrobe and the empty bed and the tray of tea upon the table.

I stared at them and pressing them forever on my mind,

Wondering why they had the power to touch me,

To sadden me,

As though they were children that did not want me to go away.

Then I turned and went downstairs to breakfast.

It was cold in the dining room,

The sun not yet on the windows,

And I was grateful for the scalding bitter coffee and heartening bacon.

Maxim and I ate in silence.

Now and again he glanced at the clock.

I heard Robert put the suitcases in the hall with the rug,

And presently there was the sound of the car being brought to the door.

I went out and stood on the terrace.

The rain had cleared the air and the grass smelled fresh and sweet.

When the sun was higher,

It would be a lovely day.

I thought how we might have wandered in the valley before lunch and then sat out afterwards under the chestnut tree with books and papers.

I closed my eyes a minute and felt the warmth of the sun on my face and on my hands.

I heard Maxim calling to me from the house.

I went back and Frith helped me into my coat.

I heard the sound of another car.

It was Frank.

Colonel Julian is waiting at the lodge gates,

He said.

He did not think it worthwhile to drive up to the house.

No,

Said Maxim.

I'll stand by in the office all day and wait for you to telephone,

Said Frank.

After you've seen Baker,

You may find you want me up in London.

Yes,

Said Maxim.

Yes,

Perhaps.

It's just nine now,

Said Frank.

You're up to time.

It's going to be fine,

Too.

You should have a good run.

Yes.

I hope you won't get over-tired,

Mrs.

De Winter,

He said to me.

It's going to be a long day for you.

I shall be all right,

I said.

I looked at Jasper,

Who was standing by my feet.

With ears drooping and sad,

Reproachful eyes.

Take Jasper back with you to the office,

I said.

He looks so miserable.

Yes,

He said.

Yes,

I will.

We'd better be off,

Said Maxim.

Old Julian will be getting impatient.

All right,

Frank.

I climbed in the car beside Maxim.

Frank slammed the door.

You will telephone,

Won't you?

He said.

Yes,

Of course,

Said Maxim.

I looked back at the house.

Frith was standing at the top of the steps,

And Robert just behind.

My eyes filled with tears for no reason.

I turned away and groped with my bag on the floor of the car so that nobody should see.

Then Maxim started up the car,

And we swept round and into the drive,

And the house was hidden.

We stopped at the lodge gates and picked up Colonel Julian.

He got in at the back.

He looked doubtful when he saw me.

It's going to be a long day,

He said.

I don't think you should have attempted it.

I would have taken care of your husband,

You know.

I wanted to come,

I said.

He did not say any more about it.

He settled himself in the corner.

It's fine.

That's one thing,

He said.

Yes,

Said Maxim.

That fellow Favell said he would pick us up at the crossroads.

If he's not there,

Don't attempt to wait.

We'd do much better without him.

I hope the damn fellow has overslept himself.

When we came to the crossroads,

Though,

I saw the long green body of his car,

And my heart sank.

I had thought he might not be on time.

Favell was sitting at the wheel,

Hatless,

A cigarette in his mouth.

He grinned when he saw us,

And waved us on.

I settled down in my seat for the journey ahead,

One hand on Maxim's knee.

The hours passed,

And the miles were covered.

I watched the road ahead in a kind of stupor.

Colonel Julian slept at the back from time to time.

I turned occasionally,

And saw his head lull against the cushions,

And his mouth open.

The green car kept close beside us.

Sometimes it shot ahead,

Sometimes it dropped behind,

But we never lost it.

At one,

We stopped for lunch at one of those inevitable old-fashioned hotels in the main street of a county town.

Colonel Julian waited through the whole set lunch,

Starting with soup and fish,

And going on to roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.

Maxim and I had cold ham and coffee.

I half expected Favell to wander into the dining room and join us,

But when he came out to the car again,

I saw his car had been drawn up outside a cafe on the opposite side of the road.

He must have seen us from the window,

For three minutes after we had started,

He was on our tail again.

We came to the suburbs of London about three o'clock.

It was then that I began to feel tired.

The noise and the traffic blocks started a humming in my head.

It was warm in London,

Too.

The streets had that worn,

Dusty look of August,

And the leaves hung listless on dull trees.

Our storm must have been local.

There had been no rain here.

People were walking about in cotton frocks and the men were hatless.

There was a smell of waste paper and orange peel and feet and burnt,

Dried grass.

Buses lumbered slowly.

And taxis crawled.

I felt as though my coat and skirt were sticking to me,

And my stockings pricked my skin.

Colonel Julian sat up and looked out through his window.

They've had no rain here,

He said.

No,

Said Maxim.

Looks as though the place needed it,

Too.

Yes.

We haven't succeeded in shaking Favell off.

He's still on our tail.

Yes.

Shopping centers on the outskirts seemed congested.

Tired women with crying babies in prams stared into windows.

Hawkers shouted.

Small boys hung onto the backs of lorries.

There were too many people,

Too much noise.

The very air was irritable and exhausted and spent.

The drive through London seemed endless,

And by the time we had drawn clear again and were out beyond Hampstead,

There was a sound in my head like the beating of a drum,

And my eyes were burning.

I wondered how tired Maxim was.

He was pale,

And there were shadows under his eyes,

But he did not say anything.

Colonel Julian kept yawning at the back.

He opened his mouth very wide and yawned aloud,

Sighing heavily afterwards.

He would do this every few minutes.

I felt a senseless,

Stupid irritation come over me,

And I did not know how to prevent myself from turning round and screaming to him to stop.

Once we had passed Hampstead,

He drew out a large-scale map from his coat pocket and began directing Maxim to barn it.

The way was clear,

And there were signposts to tell us,

But he kept pointing out every turn and twist in the road,

And if there was any hesitation on Maxim's part,

Colonel Julian would turn down the window and call for information from a passerby.

When we came to Barnet itself,

He made Maxim stop every few minutes.

Can you tell us where a house called Roseland's is?

It belongs to a Dr.

Baker who's retired and come to live there lately.

And the passerby would stand,

Frowning a moment,

Obviously at sea,

Ignorance written plain upon his face.

Dr.

Baker?

I don't know a Dr.

Baker.

There used to be a house called Rose Cottage near the church,

But a Mrs.

Wilson lives there.

No,

It's Roseland's we want,

Dr.

Baker's house,

Said Colonel Julian,

And then we would go on and stop again in front of a nurse and a pram.

Can you tell us where Roseland's is?

I'm sorry,

I'm afraid I've only just come to live here.

You don't know a Dr.

Baker?

Dr.

Davidson?

I know Dr.

Davidson.

No,

It's Dr.

Baker we want.

I glanced up at Maxim.

He was looking very tired.

His mouth was set hard.

Behind us crawled Favell,

His green car covered in dust.

It was a postman who pointed at the house in the end.

A square house,

Ivy-covered,

With no name on the gate,

Which we had already passed twice.

Mechanically,

I reached for my bag and dabbed my face with the end of the powder puff.

Maxim drew up,

Outside,

At the side of the road.

He did not take the car into the short drive.

We sat silently for a few minutes.

Well,

Here we are,

Said Colonel Julian.

And it's exactly twelve minutes past five.

We shall catch them in the middle of their tea.

Better wait for a bit.

Maxim lit a cigarette and then stretched out his hand to me.

He did not speak.

I heard Colonel Julian crinkling his map.

We could have come right across without touching London,

He said.

Saved us forty minutes,

I dare say.

We made good time the first two hundred miles.

An errand boy passed us,

Whistling on his bicycle.

A motorcoach stopped at the corner and two women got out.

Somewhere,

A church clock chimed the corridor.

I could see Favell leaning back in his car behind us and smoking a cigarette.

I seemed to have no feeling in me at all.

I just sat and watched the little things that did not matter.

The two women from the bus walk along the road.

The errand boy disappears around the corner.

A sparrow hops about in the middle of the road,

Pecking at dirt.

This fellow baker can't be much of a gardener,

Said Colonel Julian.

Look at those shrubs tumbling over his wall.

They ought to have been pruned right back.

He folded up the map and put it back in his pocket.

Funny sort of place to choose to retire in,

He said.

Close to the main road and overlooked by other houses.

Shouldn't care about it myself.

I dare say it was quite pretty once before they started building.

No doubt there is a good golf course somewhere handy.

He was silent for a while.

Then he opened the door and stood out in the road.

Well,

DeWinter,

He said,

What do you think about it?

I'm ready,

Said Maxim.

We got out of the car.

Favell strolled up to meet us.

What were you all waiting for?

Cold feet,

He said.

Nobody answered him.

We walked up the drive to the front door.

A strange,

Incongruous little party.

I caught sight of a tennis lawn beyond the house and I heard the thud of balls.

A boy's voice shouted,

40-15,

Not 30-all.

Don't you remember hitting it out,

You silly?

They must have finished tea,

Said Colonel Julian.

He hesitated a moment,

Glancing at Maxim.

Then he rang the bell.

It tinkled somewhere in the back premises.

There was a long pause.

A very young maid opened the door to us.

She looked startled at the sight of so many of us.

Dr.

Baker,

Said Colonel Julian.

Yes,

Sir,

Will you come in?

She opened the door on the left of the hall as we went in.

It would be the drawing room,

Not used much in the summer.

There was a portrait of a very plain dark woman on the wall.

I wondered if it was Mrs.

Baker.

The chintz covers on the chairs and on the sofa were new and shiny.

On the mantelpiece were photographs of two schoolboys with round,

Smiling faces.

There was a very large woman in the corner of the room by the window.

Cords trailed from it and bits of aerial.

Favell examined the portrait on the wall.

Colonel Julian went and stood by the empty fireplace.

Maxim and I looked out of the window.

I could see a deck chair under a tree and the back of a woman's head.

The tennis court must be around the corner.

I could hear the boys shouting to each other.

A very old Scotch Terrier was scratching himself in the middle of the path.

We waited there for about five minutes.

It was as though I was living the life of some other person and had come to this house to call for a subscription to a charity.

It was unlike anything I had ever known.

I had no feeling,

No pain.

Then the door opened and a man came into the room.

He was medium height,

Rather long in the face,

With a keen chin.

His hair was sandy,

Turning grey.

He wore flannels and a dark blue blazer.

Forgive me for keeping you waiting,

He said,

Looking a little surprised,

As a maid had done,

To see so many of us.

I had to run up and wash.

I was playing tennis when the bell rang.

Won't you sit down?

He turned to me.

I sat down in the nearest chair and waited.

You must think this a very unorthodox invasion,

Dr.

Baker,

Said Colonel Julian,

And I apologize very humbly for disturbing you like this.

My name is Julian.

This is Mr.

DeWinter,

Mrs.

DeWinter,

And Mr.

Favell.

You may have seen Mr.

DeWinter's name in the papers recently.

Oh,

Said Dr.

Baker.

Yes,

Yes,

I suppose I have.

Some inquest or other,

Wasn't it?

My wife was reading all about it.

The jury brought in a verdict of suicide,

Said Favell,

Coming forward,

Which I say is absolutely out of the question.

Mrs.

DeWinter was my cousin.

I knew her intimately.

She would never have done such a thing,

And what's more,

She had no motive.

What we want to know is what the devil she came to see you about the very day she died.

You had better leave this to Julian and myself,

Said Maxim quietly.

Dr.

Baker has not the faintest idea what you're driving at.

He turned to the doctor,

Who was standing between them with a line between his brows and his first polite smile frozen on his lips.

My late wife's cousin is not satisfied with the verdict,

Said Maxim,

And we've driven up to see you today because we found your name and the telephone number of your old consulting rooms.

And my wife's engagement diary.

She seems to have made an appointment with you and kept it at two o'clock on the last day she ever spent in London.

Could you possibly verify this for us?

Dr.

Baker was listening with great interest,

But when Maxim had finished,

He shook his head.

I'm most awfully sorry,

He said,

But I think you've made a mistake.

I should have remembered the name DeWinter.

I've never attended a Mrs.

DeWinter in my life,

Colonel Julian brought out his notecase and gave him the page he had torn from the engagement diary.

Here it is,

Written down,

He said.

Baker,

Two o'clock,

And a big cross beside it to show that the appointment was kept.

And here is the telephone address,

Museum 0488.

Dr.

Baker stared at the piece of paper.

That's very odd,

Very odd indeed.

Yes,

The number is quite correct,

As you say.

Could she have come to see you and given a false name?

Said Colonel Julian.

Why,

Yes,

That's possible.

She may have done that.

It's rather unusual,

Of course.

I've never encouraged that sort of thing.

It doesn't do us any good in the profession if people think they can treat us like that.

Would you have any record of the visit in your files?

Said Colonel Julian.

I know it's not etiquette to ask,

But the circumstances are very unusual.

We do feel her appointment with you must have some bearing on the case and her subsequent suicide.

Murder,

Said Favell.

Dr.

Baker raised his eyebrows and looked inquiringly at Maxim.

I'd no idea there was any question of that,

He said quietly.

Of course,

I understand,

And I'll do anything in my power to help you.

If you'll excuse me a few minutes,

I will go and look up my files.

There should be a record of every appointment booked throughout the year and a description of the case.

Please,

Help yourself to cigarettes.

It's too early to offer you sherry,

I suppose.

Colonel Julian and Maxim shook their heads.

I thought Favell was going to say something,

But Dr.

Baker had left the room before he had a chance.

Seems a decent sort of fellow,

Said Colonel Julian.

Why didn't he offer us whiskey and soda,

Said Favell.

Keeps it locked up,

I suppose.

I didn't think much of him.

I don't believe he's going to help us now.

Maxim did not say anything.

I could hear the sound of the tennis balls from the court.

The Scotch Terrier was barking.

A woman's voice shouted to him to be quiet.

The summer holidays,

Baker playing with his boys,

We had interrupted their routine.

A high-pitched gold clock in a glass case ticked very fast on the mantelpiece.

There was a postcard of the Lake of Geneva leaning against it.

The Bakers had friends in Switzerland.

Dr.

Baker came back into the room with a large book and a file case in his hands.

He carried them over to the table.

I brought the collection for last year,

He said.

I haven't been through them yet since we moved.

I only gave up practice six months ago,

You know.

He opened the book and began turning the pages.

I watched him,

Fascinated.

He would find it,

Of course.

It was only a question of moments now,

Of seconds.

The seventh,

Eighth,

Tenth,

He murmured.

Nothing here.

The twelfth,

Did you say?

At two o'clock?

Ah.

We none of us moved.

We all watched his face.

I saw a Mrs.

Danvers on the twelfth at two o'clock,

He said.

Danny?

What on earth?

Began Favell.

But Maxim cut him short.

She gave a wrong name,

Of course,

He said.

That was obvious from the first.

Do you remember the visit now,

Dr.

Baker?

But Dr.

Baker was already searching his files.

I saw his fingers delve into the pocket marked with D.

He found it almost at once.

He glanced down rapidly at his handwriting.

Yes,

He said slowly.

Yes,

Mrs.

Danvers,

I remember now.

Tall,

Slim,

Dark,

Very handsome,

Said Colonel Julian quietly.

Yes,

Said Dr.

Baker.

He read through the files and then replaced them in the case.

Of course,

He said,

Glancing at Maxim.

This is unprofessional,

You know.

We treat patients as though they were in the confessional.

But your wife is dead.

And I quite understand the circumstances are exceptional.

You want to know if I can suggest any motive why your wife should have taken her life.

I think I can.

The woman who called herself Mrs.

Danvers was very seriously ill.

He paused.

He looked at every one of us in turn.

I remember her perfectly well,

He said,

And he turned back to the files again.

She came to me for the first time a week previously to the date you mentioned.

She complained of certain symptoms,

And I took some X-rays of her.

The second visit was to find out the result of those X-rays.

The photographs are not here,

But I have the details written down.

I remember her standing in my consulting room and holding out her hand for the photographs.

I want to know the truth,

She had said.

I don't want soft words in a bedside manner.

If I'm for it,

You can tell me right away.

He paused.

He glanced down at the files once again.

I waited,

Waited.

Why couldn't he get done with it and finish and let us go?

Why must we sit there waiting,

Our eyes upon his face?

Well,

He said.

She asked for the truth,

And I let her have it.

Some patients are better for it.

Shirking the point does them no good.

This Mrs.

Danvers,

Or Mrs.

DeWinter,

Rather,

Was not the type to accept a lie.

You must know that.

She stood it very well.

She did not flinch.

She said she had suspected it for some time.

Then she paid my fee and went out.

I never saw her again.

He shut up the box with a snap and closed the book.

The pain was slight as yet,

But the growth was deep-rooted,

He said,

And in three or four months' time,

She would have been under morphia.

An operation would have been no earthly use at all.

I told her that.

The thing had got too firm a hold.

There is nothing anyone can do in a case like that,

Except give morphia and wait.

No one said a word.

The little clock ticked on the mantelpiece,

And the boys played tennis in the garden.

An aeroplane hummed overhead.

Outwardly,

Of course,

She was a perfectly healthy woman,

He said.

Rather too thin,

I remember.

Rather pale.

But then,

That's the fashion nowadays.

Pity though it is.

It's nothing to go on upon with a patient.

No.

The pain would increase week by week.

And,

As I told you,

In four or five months' time,

She would have had to be kept under morphia.

The x-rays showed a certain malformation of the uterus,

I remember,

Which meant she could never have had a child.

But that was quite a part.

It had nothing to do with a disease.

I remember hearing Colonel Julian speak,

Saying something about Dr.

Baker being very kind to have taken so much trouble.

You have told us all we want to know,

He said,

And if we could possibly have a copy of the memoranda in your file,

It might be very useful.

Of course,

Said Dr.

Baker.

Of course.

Everyone was standing up.

I got up from my chair too.

I shook hands with Dr.

Baker.

We all shook hands with him.

We followed him out into the hall.

A woman looked out of the room on the other side of the hall and darted back when she saw us.

Someone was running a bath upstairs.

The water ran loudly.

The Scotch Terrier came in from the garden and began sniffing at my heels.

Shall I send the report to you or to Mr.

De Winter?

Said Dr.

Baker.

You may not need it at all,

Said Colonel Julian.

I rather think it won't be necessary.

Either De Winter or I will write.

Here is my card.

I'm so glad to have been of use,

Said Dr.

Baker.

It never entered my head for a moment that Mrs.

De Winter and Mrs.

Danvers could be the same person.

No,

Naturally,

Said Colonel Julian.

You'll be returning to London,

I suppose?

Yes.

Yes,

I imagine so.

Your best way,

Then,

Is to turn sharp left by that pillar box and then right by the church.

After that,

It's a straight road.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

We came out onto the drive and went towards the cars.

Dr.

Baker pulled the Scotch Terrier inside the house.

I heard the door shut.

A man with one leg and a barrel organ began playing Roses and Picardy at the end of the road.

Chapter 27 We went and stood by the car.

No one said anything for a few minutes.

Colonel Julian handed round a cigarette case.

Favell looked gray,

Rather shaken.

I noticed his hands were trembling as he held a match.

The man with the barrel organ ceased playing for a moment and hobbled towards us,

His cap in his hand.

Maxim gave him two shillings.

Then he went back to the barrel organ and started another tune.

The church clock struck six o'clock.

Favell began to speak.

His voice was diffident,

Careless,

But his face was still gray.

He did not look at any of us.

He kept glancing down at his cigarette and turning it over in his fingers.

This cancer business,

He said.

Does anybody know if it's contagious?

No one answered him.

Colonel Julian shrugged his shoulders.

I never had the remotest idea,

Said Favell,

Jerkily.

She kept it a secret from everyone,

Even Danny.

What a goddamned appalling thing,

Eh?

Not the sort of thing one would ever connect with Rebecca.

Do you fellows feel like a drink?

I'm all out over this and I don't mind admitting it.

Cancer?

Oh my god.

He leant up against the side of the car and shaded his eyes with his hands.

Tell that bloody fellow with the barrel organ to clear out,

He said.

I can't stand that goddamned row.

Wouldn't it be simpler if we went ourselves,

Said Maxim.

Can you manage your own car or do you want Julian to drive it for you?

Give me a minute,

Muttered Favell.

I'll be alright.

You don't understand.

This thing has been a damned unholy shock to me.

Pull yourself together,

Man,

For heaven's sake,

Said Colonel Julian.

If you want a drink,

Go back to the house and ask Baker.

He knows how to treat for shock,

I dare say.

Don't make an exhibition of yourself in the street.

Oh,

You're alright,

You're fine,

Said Favell,

Standing straight and looking at Colonel Julian and Maxim.

You've got nothing to worry about anymore.

Max is on a good wicket now,

Isn't he?

You've got your motive and Baker will supply it in black and white,

Free of cost,

Whenever you send the word.

You can dine at Manderley once a week on the strength of it and feel proud of yourself.

No doubt,

Max will ask you to be godfather to his first child.

Shall we get into the car and go,

Said Colonel Julian to Maxim.

We can make our plans going along.

Maxim held open the door of the car and Colonel Julian climbed in.

I sat down in my seat in the front.

Favell still leant against the car and did not move.

I should advise you to get straight back to your flat and go to bed,

Said Colonel Julian shortly,

And drive slowly or you will find yourself in jail for manslaughter.

I may as well warn you now as I shall not be seeing you again,

That as a magistrate I have certain powers that will prove effective if you ever turn up in Carith or the district.

Blackmail is not much of a profession,

Mr.

Favell,

And we know how to deal with it in our part of the world,

Strange though it may seem to you.

Favell was watching Maxim.

He had lost a gray color now and the old unpleasant smile was forming on his lips.

Yes,

It's been a stroke of luck for you,

Max,

Hasn't it?

He said slowly.

You think you've won,

Don't you?

The law can get you yet,

And so can I,

In a different way.

Maxim switched on the engine.

Have you anything else to say?

Because if you have,

You had better say it now.

No,

Said Favell.

No,

I won't keep you.

You can go.

He stepped back onto the pavement,

The smile still on his lips.

The car slid forward.

As we turned the corner,

I looked back and saw him standing there watching us,

And he waved his hand and he was laughing.

We drove on for a while in silence.

Then Colonel Julian spoke.

He can't do anything,

He said.

That smile and that wave were part of his bluff.

They're all alike,

Those fellows.

He isn't a threat of a case to bring now.

Baker's evidence would squash it.

Maxim did not answer.

I glanced sideways at his face,

But it told me nothing.

I always felt the solution would lie in Baker,

Said Colonel Julian.

The furtive business of that appointment,

And the way she never even told Mrs.

Danvers.

She had her suspicions,

You see.

She knew something was wrong.

A dreadful thing,

Of course.

Very dreadful.

Enough to send a young and lovely woman right off her head.

We drove on along the straight main road.

Telegraph poles,

Motor coaches,

Open sports cars,

Little semi-detached villas with new gardens.

They flashed past,

Making patterns in my mind I should always remember.

I suppose you never had any idea of this,

De Winter,

Said Colonel Julian.

No,

Said Maxim.

No.

Of course,

Some people have a morbid dread of it,

Said Colonel Julian.

Women especially.

That must have been the case with your wife.

She had courage for every other thing but that.

She could not face pain.

Well,

She was spared that at any rate.

Yes,

Said Maxim.

I don't think it would do any harm if I quietly let it be known down in Carroth and in the county that a London doctor has supplied us with a motive,

Said Colonel Julian.

Just in case there should be any gossip.

You never can tell,

You know.

People are odd sometimes.

If they knew about Mrs.

De Winter,

It might make it a lot easier for you.

Yes,

Said Maxim.

Yes,

I understand.

It's curious and very irritating,

Said Colonel Julian slowly.

How long stories spread in country districts,

I never know why they should,

But unfortunately they do.

Not that I anticipate any trouble over this,

But it's as well to be prepared.

People are inclined to say the wildest things if they are given half a chance.

Yes,

Said Maxim.

You and Crawley,

Of course,

Can squash any nonsense in Manderley or the estate,

And I can deal with it effectively in Carroth.

I shall say a word to my girl,

Too.

She sees a lot of the younger people who very often are the worst offenders in storytelling.

I don't suppose the newspapers will worry you any more.

That's one good thing.

You'll find they will drop the whole affair in a day or two.

Yes,

Said Maxim.

We drove on through the northern suburbs and came once more to Finchley and Hampstead.

Half past six,

Said Colonel Julian.

What do you propose doing?

I've got a sister living in St.

John's Wood and feel inclined to take her unawares and ask for dinner and then catch the last train from Paddington.

I know she doesn't go away for another week.

I'm sure she would be delighted to see you both as well.

Maxim hesitated and glanced at me.

It's very kind of you,

He said,

But I think we had better be independent.

I must ring up Frank,

And one thing and another.

I dare say we shall have a quiet meal somewhere and start off again afterwards,

Spending the night at a pub on the way.

I rather think that's what we shall do.

Of course,

Said Colonel Julian.

I quite understand.

Could you throw me out at my sister's?

It's one of those turnings off the Avenue Road.

When we came to the house,

Maxim drew up a little way ahead of the gate.

It's impossible to thank you,

He said,

For all you've done today.

You know what I feel about it without my telling you.

My dear fellow,

Said Colonel Julian.

I've been only too glad.

If only we'd known what Baker knew,

Of course.

There never would have been none of this at all.

However,

Never mind about that now.

You must put the whole thing behind you as a very unpleasant and unfortunate episode.

I'm pretty sure you won't have any more trouble from Favel.

If you do,

I count on you to tell me at once.

I shall know how to deal with him.

He climbed out of the car,

Collecting his coat and his map.

I should feel inclined,

He said,

Not looking directly at us.

To get away for a bit.

Take a short holiday.

Go abroad,

Perhaps.

We did not say anything.

Colonel Julian was fumbling with his map.

Switzerland is very nice this time of year,

He said.

I remember we went once for the girls' holidays and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

The walks are delightful.

He hesitated,

Cleared his throat.

It is just faintly possible certain little difficulties might arise,

He said.

Not from Favel,

But from one or two people in the district.

One never knows quite what Tab has been saying,

And repeating,

And so on.

Absurd,

Of course.

But you know the old saying.

Out of sight,

Out of mind.

If people aren't there to be talked about,

The talk dies.

It's the way of the world.

He stood for a moment,

Counting his belongings.

I've got everything,

I think.

Map,

Glasses,

Stick,

Coat.

Everything complete.

Well,

Goodbye,

Both of you.

Don't get overtired.

It's been a long day.

He turned in at the gate and went up the steps.

I saw a woman come to the window and smile and wave her hand.

We drove away down the road and turned the corner.

I leant back in my seat and closed my eyes.

Now that we were alone again and the strain was over,

The sensation was one of almost unbearable relief.

It was like the bursting of an abscess.

Maxim did not speak.

I felt his hand cover mine.

We drove on through the traffic,

And I saw none of it.

I heard the rumble of the buses,

The hooting of taxis,

That inevitable,

Tireless London roar.

But I was not part of it.

I rested in some other place that was cool and quiet and still.

Nothing could touch us anymore.

We had come through our crisis.

When Maxim stopped the car,

I opened my eyes and sat up.

We were opposite one of those numerous little restaurants in a narrow street in Soho.

I looked about me,

Dazed and stupid.

You're tired,

Said Maxim briefly.

Empty and tired and fit for nothing.

You'll be better when you've had something to eat.

So shall I.

We'll go in here and order dinner right away.

I can telephone to Frank too.

We got out of the car.

There was no one in the restaurant but the Metro d'Atelle,

And a waiter and a girl behind a desk.

It was dark and cool.

We went to a table right in the corner.

Maxim began ordering the food.

Favell was right about wanting a drink,

He said.

I want one too,

And so do you.

You're going to have some brandy.

The Metro d'Atelle was fat and smiling.

He produced long,

Thin rolls and paper envelopes.

They were very hard,

Very crisp.

I began to eat one ravenously.

My brandy and soda was soft,

Warming,

Curiously comforting.

When we've had dinner,

We'll drive slowly,

Very quietly,

Said Maxim.

It will be cool too in the evening.

We'll find somewhere on the road we can put up for the night.

Then we can get along to Manderley in the morning.

Yes,

I said.

You didn't want to dine with Julian's sister and go down by the late train.

No.

Maxim finished his drink.

His eyes looked large and they were ringed with the shadows.

They seemed very dark against the pallor of his face.

How much of the truth,

He said.

Do you think Julian guessed?

I watched him over the rim of my glass.

I did not say anything.

He knew,

Said Maxim slowly.

Of course he knew.

If he did,

I said,

He will never say anything,

Never.

No,

Said Maxim,

No.

He ordered another drink from the Metro d'Atelle.

We sat silent and peaceful in our dark corner.

I believe,

Said Maxim,

That Rebecca lied to me on purpose.

The last supreme bluff.

She wanted me to kill her.

She foresaw the whole thing.

That's why she laughed.

That's why she stood there laughing when she died.

I did not say anything.

I went on drinking my brandy and soda.

It was all over.

It was all settled.

It did not matter anymore.

There was no need for Maxim to look white and troubled.

It was her last practical joke,

Said Maxim.

The best of them all.

And I'm not sure if she hasn't won,

Even now.

What do you mean?

How can she have won?

I asked.

I don't know,

He said.

I don't know.

He swallowed his second drink.

Then he got up from the table.

I'm going to nag up Frank,

He said.

I sat there in my corner,

And presently the waiter brought me my fish.

It was lobster.

Very hot and good.

I had another brandy and soda,

Too.

It was pleasant and comfortable sitting there,

And nothing mattered very much.

I smiled at the waiter.

I asked for some more bread and French for no reason.

It was quiet and happy and friendly in the restaurant.

Maxim and I were together.

Everything was over.

Everything was settled.

Rebecca was dead.

Rebecca could not hurt us.

She had played her last joke,

As Maxim had said.

She could do no more to us now.

In ten minutes,

Maxim came back again.

Well,

I said,

My voice sounding far away.

How was Frank?

Frank was all right,

Said Maxim.

He was at the office,

Been waiting there for me to telephone him ever since four o'clock.

I told him what had happened.

He sounded glad,

Relieved.

Yes,

I said.

Something rather odd,

Though,

Said Maxim,

Slowly,

A line between his brows.

He thinks Mrs.

Danvers has cleared out.

She's gone,

Disappeared.

She said nothing to anyone,

But apparently she'd been packing up all day,

Stripping her room of things,

And the fellow from the station came for her boxes at about four o'clock.

Frith telephoned down to Frank about it,

And Frank told Frith to ask Mrs.

Danvers to come down to him at the office.

He waited,

And she never came.

About ten minutes before I rang up,

Frith telephoned to Frank again and said there had been a long-distance call for Mrs.

Danvers,

Which he had switched through to her room,

And she had answered.

This must have been about ten past six.

At a quarter to seven,

He knocked on the door and found her room empty.

Her bedroom,

Too.

They looked for her and could not find her.

They think she's gone.

She must have gone straight out of the house and through the woods.

She never passed the lodge gates.

"'Isn't it a good thing?

' I said.

"'It saves us a lot of trouble.

We should have had to send her away,

Anyway.

I believe she guessed,

Too.

There was an expression on her face last night.

I kept thinking of it coming up in the car.

' "'I don't like it,

' said Maxim.

"'I don't like it.

' "'She can't do anything,

' I argued.

"'If she's gone,

So much the better.

It was Favell who telephoned,

Of course.

He must have told her about Baker.

He would tell her what Colonel Julian said.

Colonel Julian said if there was any attempt at blackmail,

We were to tell him.

They won't dare do it.

They can't.

It's too dangerous.

' "'I'm not thinking of blackmail,

' said Maxim.

"'What else can they do?

' I said.

"'We've got to do what Colonel Julian said.

We've got to forget it.

We must not think about it anymore.

It's all over,

Darling.

It's finished.

We had to go down on our knees and thank God that it's finished.

' Maxim did not answer.

He was staring in front of him at nothing.

"'Your lobster will be cold,

' I said.

"'Eat it,

Darling.

It will do you good.

You want something inside you.

You're tired.

' I was using the words he had used to me.

I felt better and stronger.

It was I now who was taking care of him.

He was tired,

Pale.

I had got over my weakness and fatigue and now he was the one to suffer from reaction.

It was just because he was empty,

Because he was tired.

There was nothing to worry about at all.

Mrs.

Danvers had gone.

We should praise God for that too.

Everything had been made so easy for us,

So very easy.

"'Eat up your fish,

' I said.

It was going to be very different in the future.

I was not going to be nervous and shy with the servants anymore.

With Mrs.

Danvers gone,

I should learn bit by bit to control the house.

I would go and interview the cook in the kitchen.

They would like me,

Respect me.

Soon it would be as though Mrs.

Danvers had never had command.

I would learn more about the estate too.

I should ask Frank to explain things to me.

I was sure Frank liked me.

I liked him too.

I would go into things and learn how they were managed,

What they did at the farm,

How the work in the grounds was planned.

I might take to gardening myself and in time have one or two things altered.

That little square lawn outside the morning room with a statue of the satyr.

I did not like it.

We would give the satyr away.

People would come and stay and I should not mind.

There would be the interest of seeing to their rooms,

Having flowers and books put,

Arranging the food.

We would have children.

Surely,

We would have children.

Have you finished?

Said Maxim suddenly.

I don't think I want any more.

Only coffee.

Black,

Very strong please,

And the bill.

He added to the metro detail.

I wondered why we must go so soon.

It was comfortable in the restaurant and there was nothing to take us away.

I liked sitting there with my head against the sofa back,

Planning the future idly in a hazy,

Pleasant way.

I could have gone on sitting there for a long while.

I followed Maxim out of the restaurant,

Stumbling a little and yawning.

Listen,

He said when we were on the pavement.

Do you think you could sleep in the car if I wrapped you up with a rug and tucked you down in the back?

There's a cushion there and my coat as well.

I thought we were going to put up somewhere for the night,

I said blankly.

One of those hotels when passes on the road.

I know,

He said,

But I have this feeling I must get down tonight.

Can't you possibly sleep in the back of the car?

Yes,

I said doubtfully.

Yes,

I suppose so.

If we start now,

It's a quarter to eight.

We ought to be there by half past two,

He said.

There won't be much traffic on the road.

You'll be so tired,

I said,

So terribly tired.

No,

He shook his head.

I shall be alright.

I want to get home.

Something's wrong,

I know it is.

I want to get home.

His face was anxious,

Strange.

He pulled open the door and began arranging the rugs and the cushion at the back of the car.

What can be wrong,

I said.

It seems so odd to worry now,

When everything's over.

I can't understand you.

He did not answer.

I climbed into the back of the car and laid down with my legs tucked under me.

He covered me with the rug.

It was very comfortable,

Much better than I imagined.

I settled the pillow under my head.

Are you alright,

He said.

Are you sure you don't mind?

No,

I said smiling.

I'm alright.

I shall sleep.

I don't want to stay anywhere on the road.

It's much better to do this and get home.

We'll be at Manderley long before sunrise.

He got in front and switched on the engine.

I shut my eyes.

The car drew away and I felt the slight jolting of the springs under my body.

I pressed my face against the cushion.

The motion of the car was rhythmic,

Steady,

And the pulse of my mind beat with it.

Hundred images came to me when I closed my eyes.

Things seen,

Things known,

And things forgotten.

They were jumbled together in a senseless pattern.

The quill of Mrs.

Van Hopper's hat.

The hard,

Straight-backed chairs in Frank's dining room.

The wide window in the west wing at Manderley.

The salmon-colored frock of the smiling lady at the fancy dress ball.

A peasant girl in a road near Monte Carlo.

Sometimes I saw Jasper chasing butterflies across the lawns.

Sometimes I saw Dr.

Baker's Scotch Terrier scratching his ears beside a deck chair.

There was a postman who had pointed out the house to us today.

And there was Clarissa's mother wiping a chair for me in the back parlor.

Ben smiled at me,

Holding wrinkles in his hands.

And the bishop's wife asked me if I would stay to tea.

I could feel the cold comfort of my sheets and my own bed.

And the gritty shingle in the cove.

I could smell the bracken in the woods.

The wet moss.

And the dead azalea petals.

I fell into a strange broken sleep,

Waking now and again to the reality of my narrow,

Cramped position and the sight of Maxim's back in front of me.

The dusk had turned to darkness.

There were the lights of passing cars upon the road.

There were villages with drawn curtains and little lights behind them.

And I would move and turn upon my back and sleep again.

I saw the staircase at Manderley and Mrs.

Danvers standing at the top in her black dress,

Waiting for me to go to her.

As I climbed the stairs,

She backed under the archway and disappeared.

I looked for her,

And I could not find her.

Then,

Her face looked at me through a hollow door,

And I cried out,

And she had gone again.

What's the time?

I called.

What's the time?

Maxim turned round to me,

His face pale and ghostly in the darkness of the car.

It's half past eleven,

He said.

We're over halfway already.

Try and sleep again.

I'm thirsty,

I said.

We stopped at the next town.

The man at the garage and his wife had not gone to bed,

And she would make us some tea.

We got out of the car and stood inside the garage.

I stamped up and down to bring the blood back to my hands and feet.

Maxim smoked a cigarette.

It was cold.

A bitter wind blew in through the open garage door and rattled the corrugated roof.

I shivered and buttoned up my coat.

Yes,

It's nippy tonight,

Said the man,

As he wound the petrol pump.

The weather seems to break this afternoon.

It's the last of the heatwaves for this summer.

We shall be thinking of fires soon.

It was hot in London,

I said.

Well,

They always have the extremes up there,

Don't they?

He said.

We get the first of the bad weather down here.

It will blow hard on the coast before morning.

His wife brought us the tea.

It tasted of bitter wood,

But it was hot.

I drank it greedily,

Thankfully.

Already Maxim was glancing at his watch.

We ought to be going,

He said.

It's ten minutes to twelve.

I left the shelter of the garage reluctantly.

The cold wind blew in my face.

The stars raced across the sky.

There were threads of clouds,

Too.

We climbed back into the car.

I settled myself once more under the rug.

The car went on.

I shut my eyes.

There was a man with a wooden leg,

Winding his barrel organ.

And the tune hummed in my head,

Against the jolting of the car.

Frith and Robert carried the tea into the library.

The woman at the lodge nodded to me abruptly and called her child into the house.

I saw the model boats in the cottage in the cove,

And the feathery dust.

I saw the cobwebs stretching from the little mass.

I heard the rain upon the roof,

And the sound of the sea.

I wanted to get to the Happy Valley,

And it was not there.

There were woods about me.

There was no Happy Valley.

Only the dark trees and the young bracken.

The owls hooted.

The moon was shining in the windows of Manderley.

There were nettles in the garden,

Ten foot,

Twenty foot high.

Maxim!

I cried.

Maxim!

Yes?

He said.

It's all right,

I'm here.

I had a dream,

I said,

A dream.

What was it?

He said.

I don't know.

Back again,

Into the moving,

Unquiet depths.

I was writing letters in the morning room.

I was sending out invitations.

I wrote them all myself,

With a thick,

Black pen.

But when I looked down to see what I had written,

It was not my small,

Square handwriting at all.

It was long and slanting,

With curious,

Pointed strokes.

I pushed the cards away from the blotter and hid them.

I got up and went to the looking-glass.

A face stared back at me that was not my own.

It was very pale,

Very lovely,

Framed in a cloud of dark hair.

The eyes narrowed and smiled.

The lips parted.

The face in the glass stared back at me and laughed.

And I saw then that she was sitting on a chair before the dressing table in her bedroom,

And Maxim was brushing her hair.

He held her hair in his hands,

And as he brushed it,

He wound it slowly into a thick rope.

It twisted like a snake,

And he took hold of it with both hands and smiled at Rebecca and put it round his neck.

No!

I screamed.

No,

No!

We must go to Switzerland.

Colonel Julian said we must go to Switzerland.

I felt Maxim's hand upon my face.

What is it?

He said.

What's the matter?

I sat up and pushed my hair away from my face.

I can't sleep,

I said.

It's no use.

You've been sleeping,

He said.

You've slept for two hours.

It's quarter past two.

We're four miles the other side of Lanyon.

It was even colder than before.

I shuddered in the darkness of the car.

I'll come beside you,

I said.

We shall be back by three.

I climbed over and sat beside him,

Staring in front of me through the windscreen.

I put my hand on his knee.

My teeth were chattering.

You're cold,

He said.

Yes.

The hills rose in front of us and dipped and rose again.

It was quite dark.

The stars had gone.

What time did you say it was?

I asked.

Twenty past two,

He said.

It's funny,

I said.

It looks almost as though the dawn was breaking over there,

Beyond those hills.

It can't be,

Though.

It's too early.

It's the wrong direction,

He said.

You're looking west.

I know,

I said.

It's funny,

Isn't it?

He did not answer,

And I went on watching the sky.

It seemed to get lighter even as I stared,

Like the first red streak of sunrise.

Little by little it spread across the sky.

It's in winter you see the northern lights,

Isn't it?

I said.

Not in summer?

That's not the northern lights,

He said.

That's Manderly.

I glanced at him and saw his face.

I saw his eyes.

Maxim,

I said.

Maxim,

What is it?

He drove faster,

Much faster.

We topped the hill before us and saw Lanyon lying in a hollow at our feet.

There to the left of us was the silver streak of the river,

Widening to the estuary at Carith,

Six miles away.

The road to Manderly lay ahead.

There was no moon.

The sky above our heads was inky black.

But the sky on the horizon was not dark at all.

It was shot with crimson,

Like a splash of blood.

And the ashes blew towards us with the salt wind from the sea.

The End