Mrs De Winter (37 page)

‘You drink this while it’s hot — and I daresay you haven’t eaten anything yourself have you? Been too busy seeing to everyone else. Well, it’s always the way at parties. Have these egg sandwiches, I’ve cut them fresh.’

Thank you Dora. I’m fine. Just a bit tired suddenly, as you say.’ I stared at the white bread with its crumbs of damp egg oozing from the sides and felt suddenly very sick, and would have got up and gone upstairs, except that I heard Maxim speak from the doorway.

‘You’d better come out again, hadn’t you?’ he said coldly.

I dared not look at him. I could imagine his face, I had seen it before, the last time we had had a party and she had

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spoiled it, in a different way, but just as deliberately, just as thoroughly. There was no delight left in the day now, no pleasure, it was broken and the pieces thrown about anyhow. We had to get through it, that was all. It wouldn’t be for long. They would go, she would go. Then I would be alone with him, then I would have to explain. What should I say? What did I have to tell him?

Dora was watching me, I could see alarm and concern in her face. She had never heard Maxim speak to me in that way, never seen anything but love and easiness between us. I tried to smile, to reassure her. I said, Til ask Maxim when we should serve the drinks - I’m sure a lot of people will want to stay, they all seem quite happy.’

And so they did, I saw it as I went out again. The sun had slipped down a little further, late afternoon was merging into evening, the smell of it was in the air. The tennis game seemed to be over, and only a couple of people were playing croquet. Everyone else was sitting at the tables, or in deck chairs, talking quietly, strolling along the paths, some going towards the kitchen garden and the nut walk. They seemed so at home, I thought, as if it were a hotel and they had paid to be staying here, the grounds belonged, for the time being, to them. I minded that, hated it passionately, and there was nothing at all that I could do.

I went over to where Maxim stood, to the side of a group of people. He was talking politely about something to do with the farms, bringing back some land to good heart. From his face and his voice, they would know nothing, it was all so pleasant, all so normal. I recognised faces, could not put names to them, smiled vaguely, generally round. I

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was the hostess, I was on view, there were certain ways to behave, and that helped me a little.

‘I was wondering if we should serve the drinks. Dora and Gwen are clearing the last of the tea things now.’

Til see to it. You will all have something, of course?’ He smiled, as I was smiling, and they smiled back, I saw their mouths move, heard the appreciative little murmurs. I wanted them to go. I did not. I wanted to touch Maxim, for reassurance, say something to him, that would explain everything. Be alone in the garden with him. I did not. I wanted none of it ever to have happened.

Tou must be so very proud of everything,’ I heard her say in the sweetest of soft voices. She had come silently across the grass and was standing very close to us, I could smell the faintly musty smell of her clothes. She was motionless, eyes not leaving our faces, hands bone white on the black dress. Why always black, I wanted to scream out at her, why? ‘It will be such a lovely home for you in time.’

She turned slightly. The people around us, half a dozen or so, seemed to be mesmerised by her, and puzzled too. No one seemed to find anything to say, they merely waited, silent, polite, listening. ‘Of course, nothing will ever take the place of Manderley. Mr and Mrs de Winter came from a magnificent house — it is some years ago now — I was privileged to be there then. I’m sure you will have heard of it.’

‘Mrs Danvers —’

‘And the tragedy there. Everyone heard about it, didn’t they?’

‘I say, now you mention the name - Manderley - Manderley - I seem to remember something - ‘ Some fat,

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gobbling man with yellow whites to his blue eyes. I wanted to put my hands around his throat.

‘Yes, it was famous — in that part of the world, I suppose it was the most famous place of all, for every reason — I’m sure Mr and Mrs de Winter would agree with me.’

She turned slightly to look at Maxim, I saw their two faces in profile, the skin stretched taut over their bones, eyes full of loathing. I felt soft and weak, like some helpless, amorphous thing trapped between rocks. I was not there, they did not see me or take any note of me, I was of no relevance now.

TJnder the circumstances, I feel you are so very fortunate to have found happiness here. I hope it can continue.’

There was a strange little silence. No one moved. I looked at the face of some woman in a red frock, and saw her eyes flick away from Mrs Danvers, saw that she was uneasy, but did not know quite why.

Maxim might have been turned to stone. I stood between them, knowing quite certainly now that in some way she would eventually succeed as she intended, and as she believed that Rebecca intended. She would destroy us.

I know now that the moment when I should have summoned up my strength and defiance and courage to stand up to her for the last time came then, in the garden on that late afternoon. But I did not take it, I did not confront her and defy her, did not tell her that she had no power over us, could not touch us, that we were impregnable and she a deranged, deluded, vengeful old woman. I let the moment slip away and did not make use of it. It would not come back.

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Strangely enough, the end of the party was not spoiled, my memory of it is not unhappy. Some left early, Lady Beddow and Mrs Danvers did not stay to drink. I watched the black car slide away up the drive and through the gates and it was as if the air had lightened after an oppressive storm. I turned back into the garden and wanted to laugh and dance on the grass and hold out my arms to embrace everyone who was left. I smiled at people, they seemed old, dear, good friends. I did not look for Maxim.

The young ones were playing tennis again, a rather silly game in which people kept swopping racquets and places and partners and the balls went anywhere, there were shrieks of delight, shouts, jokes. I stood for quite a long time watching them, and then went around the croquet course with nice, amiable Bill Butterley, who flirted with me and flattered me and made me smile. The drinks came out, trays of glasses chinking gently, and people exclaimed and raised them and drank and were pleased. There was a light heartedness, they began to regroup, old friends came together, I saw people strolling under the rose arch, up towards the nut walk, pulling the tables forward into the last patch of sun. But it was cooler now, there were violet shadows over the grass. I went into the house and switched on the lamps, and the house seemed to sparkle and glow, and sail like a ship out on the darkening evening.

I did not look for Maxim.

Some of the young people left the court and scrambled up the grassy slopes, pulling each other, laughing and calling; but once there, they grew quiet and sat together in small, still, contented groups, enjoying the gentle drift of the party down

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to its close. I became strangely contented and calm myself, suspended in a sort of bubble, immune from feeling, not anxious, not looking ahead, and I had an odd sense that this was the end of more than a garden party, and that I must remember it, hold on to it now, now, before it slipped away.

I had fetched my jacket from the house, and now I climbed the slope myself, but away from everyone else, on the far side, and leaned on a tree trunk and looked down over it all and was happy that they were there, and would talk on the way home about what pleasure they had had, remember it as a good day.

I went through the gate out of the darkening kitchen garden and up the nut walk. No one else was here now. I touched my hand to the slim trunks of the young trees, on either side, reached up and touched the cold, soft leaves overhead. I could not see through the arch at the end, it was too dark, and there was no moon, no stars, clouds had begun to come over, but I knew it was there and looked ahead to the open country and the distant silver spire and saw them in my mind. As I see them now, whenever I choose.

But at last, because I heard voices calling goodnight and the closing of a car door, I had to go back, and say goodbye and thank you, thank you for coming, yes, it’s been lovely, hasn’t it been a beautiful day, we’ve been so lucky, yes, they say the weather is going to break, we couldn’t have picked a better day.

It was as the very last people were leaving that I saw the car come too fast, crazily down the drive, headlights glaring at us, so that the others had to swerve and brake to

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avoid a collision. Maxim started forward, but by then, they had driven away.

I knew who it was even before I saw his face, before he got out of the awful, battered, foreign-looking car. So it was to be this then; I did not yet understand quite how, I simply saw that she — or the two of them together, had arranged it this way.

‘Bloody breakdown on the way,’ Jack Favell said, standing swaying slightly in front of us, ‘missed your party, blast you, Max, the whole idea was to queer your pitch at the party, plenty of people here, you see, plenty of witnesses. Bloody breakdown. Never mind, I’ve got the two of you, you’re the most important aren’t you?’

Maxim was a foot away from me. I reached out and touched his arm, but I could not look at him and he did not turn to me.

From the house, I heard the sound of Dora’s voice, then the glasses being loaded on to a tray.

‘Get out of here,’ Maxim said. He had stepped forwards.

Favell looked bloated and dirty, in the lights from the house, his eyes went from Maxim to me and back, but he stood his ground, and began to reach in his pockets for cigarettes.

Tou are not wanted here, we have nothing to say to one another. You are unwelcome. Get out.’

‘Oh no. No, I’m going to come in Max, into your nice home, unless you want a scene in the drive that will bring out all the servants. Do you have servants? Run to those? I bet you do. You’ve feathered your nest all right, we always knew you would. I need a drink.’

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i

I heard footsteps along the side of the house, and when I glanced round, saw Dora hesitating, uncertain whether to speak to me. ‘It’s all right,’ I said to Maxim. ‘I’ll see to it. You’d better go in.’

Somehow or other, I dealt with things in the kitchen, spoke to them in what seemed a surprisingly normal voice. They were doing the last of the clearing up, in the garden Ned was stacking the tables, Dora and Gwen were washing glasses. Dora glanced at me once or twice. They were subdued, not singing and joking as I knew they had been. It must show on my face then.

‘Leave it, Dora - do the rest in the morning.’

Til get things straight if it’s all the same to you, Mrs de Winter. I like to see it clear.’

‘All right.’

‘I’ve left some soup and a plate of cold meats and there’s potatoes in the oven, and fruit. Ned wants to get the chairs in, I know, they say the weather will break tonight.’

‘Yes. Someone told me.’

Tou go and sit down — it’s taken it out of you, I can see that.’

No, I thought. Oh no. It isn’t that. The party was happiness, the party didn’t make me tired. I loved the party. Thank you Dora. You’ve been such a help — you’ve all been a wonderful help.’ I found that when I said it, I was close to tears.

Then I heard raised voices. Maxim’s. Favell’s. Dora glanced at me.

Thank you Dora,’ I said. ‘I’d better go and see if Maxim needs me.’

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‘Goodnight then, Mrs de Winter, we’ll slip out when we’re done and I’ll be here first thing in the morning.’

I closed the kitchen door and the door from the hall into the passage. I didn’t want them to hear.

They were standing in the drawing room. The windows were wide open on to the garden and I went across and closed them. A breeze had got up, and was blowing the curtains inwards.

Maxim had given Favell a tumbler of whisky but he had nothing himself.

‘Maxim—’

‘She’ll tell you. Ask her, she won’t lie to you. Not a liar, are you?’ Favell leered at me. He looked worse than when I had seen him in the hotel, his collar was frayed and filthy, his hair greasy, flattened on to his head. The hand that held the whisky tumbler shook slightly. ‘I was telling Max about our nice tea in London.’

Maxim did not look at me.

‘Why have you come here?’ I said. ‘I told you — we don’t have anything to say to you now — there is no reason why we should meet. I heard Maxim tell you to go. Please drink your whisky and do as he asks, please.’

‘He told me to get out the last time. I remember that. I bet you do too.’

I did not answer. Neither of us did — we stood opposite Favell and yet we were not together, there were continents between us. I think Favell knew that.

‘I’ve come with these.’ I saw now that he had a thick envelope in his other hand. He waved it, flicked it insolently into my face. ‘Evidence.’

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‘What on earth do you mean? What evidence? What about?’

‘Don’t give him a lead,’ Maxim said curtly. ‘Don’t ask him. That’s what he wants. He’s drunk and deranged.’

Favell laughed, opening his mouth wide and showing broken, decayed teeth, a yellow furred tongue. It was the most unpleasant laugh I think I have ever heard, if I listen, I can hear it now. ‘Danny told me about the party. House warming, meet the neighbours. Bloody breakdown. Not a patch on old Manderley here, come down a bit in the world haven’t you? But nice enough, nice enough. You couldn’t keep up a bloody palace like that now. Anyway, you needed Rebecca for that and she isn’t here, is she, or there; we all know where she is.’

He flapped the envelope again. ‘I haven’t been idle. Nor has Danny, though she’s gone a bit — ‘ he screwed a forefinger to his head and laughed again. ‘Gone over the edge, I’d say. Can’t blame her can you? It’s all she lived for — Rebecca. She never cared that much for anyone or anything in her life — except Manderley, and that was because of her, that was the only reason. Nothing to do with you Max. She knows the truth. We all do. Plenty of us did. Well, of course we did, and you know we know it. But I’ve had to delve and burrow and ask questions, and get evidence very, very patiently these last few years. The war got in the way. But I knew I’d get there and I did and here I am.’