Her Own Rules

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  “Will you tell me about it, Mrs. Stratton?”

  “Yes. But let me explain something, Dr. Benson. I saw the abbey for the first time the day before . . . I was looking at it from the window of an inn, viewing it across snow-covered fields. It was beautiful. And I realized I was curiously drawn to it. The next morning I had a little time to spare, I was waiting for my English partner to get up, come down to breakfast. Well, anyway, not to digress . . . I had a little free time, so I went to look at the abbey close-up. As I approached the ruins I felt that I was literally being pulled toward them, and that even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t have turned back. A short while later, when I finally walked into the actual ruins, I had the queerest feeling that I’d been there before. It was strong, rather overwhelming.”

  “And you are positive you didn’t know this place?”

  “Oh yes. I had never been to Fountains Abbey before; I was visiting Yorkshire for the first time in my life.”

  “I see. Did you experience anything else? Did you have any other emotions that morning?”

  “Yes, I did, as a matter of fact. I felt a great sense of loss. And sadness . . .” Meredith paused. There was a reflective look on her face when she added quietly, “I experienced a feeling of true sorrow.”

  “Have you any idea why?”

  “Not really, although I do recall that I had a sudden flash of clarity at that moment. I was sure that I had lost someone there, someone very dear to me. Or, rather, that someone had been taken from me. It seemed to me that I knew those ruins, and I sensed a tragic thing had happened there. Yet it didn’t feel like a bad place. Quite the opposite. I had a sense of belonging, and I was at ease.”

  “Do you know England well, Mrs. Stratton?”

  “Not really, although I’ve been going there for more than twenty years. However, as I just said, I had never been to Yorkshire.” Meredith leaned forward, gave the psychiatrist a piercing look. “How do you explain what happened to me that morning?”

  “I don’t think I can. At least, not at this moment.”

  “Do you think my experience at Fountains Abbey triggered the first attack?”

  “I don’t know.” Hilary Benson shook her head. “The human mind is a strange and complex piece of machinery. It takes a lot of understanding. Let’s leave your experience at the abbey alone for the moment and go in another direction. I understand from Dr. Pollard that you’re an Australian. Please tell me a little about yourself, about your background.”

  “I’m from Sydney. I grew up there. My parents were killed. In a car crash. When I was ten years old. Relatives brought me up.” Meredith sat back in the chair, crossed her legs, and gave the psychiatrist a cool, very direct look.

  Hilary Benson returned this glance and thought: Her expression is candid but she’s lying. I know it. What she’s just said has been well learned. She’s repeating it by rote to me, just as she’s done so before, to countless others.

  After a short pause Hilary said, “How sad for you to be orphaned so very young. Who was it that brought you up?”

  “Relatives. I just told you.”

  “But who exactly?”

  “An aunt.”

  “I see. Did you have any siblings?”

  “No, I didn’t. There was just me. I was always on my own.”

  “Is that actually how you felt, that you were on your own, even though you had an aunt?”

  “Oh yes, I always felt that way.”

  “Tell me how you came to this country, Mrs. Stratton.”

  “I’ll be happy to,” Meredith replied, and then added, “I’d like you to call me Meredith, Dr. Benson.”

  The doctor nodded. “Of course. Please give me a little background about your arrival in America.”

  “I came with an American family who’d been living in Sydney. The Paulsons. I’d been working as an au pair for them since I was fifteen. Mr. Paulson was transferred back to the States two years later, when I was seventeen, and they asked me to go with them. So I did.”

  “And your aunt didn’t object?”

  “Oh no. She didn’t care. She had four daughters of her own. She wasn’t interested in me.”

  “And so she gave her permission for you to travel to America with the Paulson family? Am I understanding this correctly?”

  Meredith nodded. “She helped me get my passport.” Meredith made a small grimace. “She was glad to be rid of me.”

  Hilary Benson frowned. “You were not very close, then?”

  “Not at all.”

  “And what about your parents? Were you close to them?”

  “Not really.”

  “But you were an only child. Only children are usually very close to their parents.”

  “I wasn’t, Dr. Benson.”

  The psychiatrist was silent. She looked down at the pad in front of her, made a few notations on it. She was more convinced than ever that Meredith was lying about her background. It seemed to her that everything was too well rehearsed, and Meredith spoke in monosyllables, as if she were afraid to elaborate in case she made a mistake. Or revealed something she was trying to hide.

  Hilary put down her pen and looked up, smiling at Meredith. “You came to New York with the Paulson family. Did you ever go back to Australia?”

  “No, I didn’t. I stayed here. In Connecticut. That’s where we lived, near New Preston. Up above Lake Waramaug. I was with the Paulsons for another year and then Mr. Paulson was transferred to South Africa. He was a troubleshooter for an international advertising agency, and he was always moving around.”

  “And did you go there with them?”

  “No, I didn’t want to go to Johannesburg. I stayed in Connecticut.”

  “Alone? You were only eighteen.”

  “Well, Mrs. Paulson agreed I could stay on, because I had found myself a job. At the Silver Lake Inn. She came to meet the Silvers and liked them. They were providing room and board as well as a wage, and she approved. The Silvers were from an old family and well known, very respected in the area.”

  “So at the age of eighteen you were on your own, working at an inn. How did you feel about this? About being so . . . so independent.”

  “I was pleased, but I wasn’t really on my own, Dr. Benson. The Silvers treated me like family right from the beginning, and they made me extremely welcome. I felt at home, as I’d never felt before in my life, actually.”

  “If I am understanding you correctly, they treated you like a daughter. Am I right, Meredith?”

  “Not a daughter, no, they weren’t that much older than I was. More like a sibling, a younger sister.”

  “How old were the Silvers?”

  “Amelia was thirty-six when I went to work there, and Jack was thirty-two.”

  Hilary Benson nodded. “And what was your job at the inn?”

  “I started as a receptionist, but it was always understood, right from the beginning, that I would help Amelia with the office work. She was very overloaded, and since she was paralyzed, things weren’t easy for her. I became her assistant as well as the receptionist. And I helped Jack a lot with the management of the inn.”

  “What had happened to Amelia Silver? Why was she paralyzed?”

  “She’d had a riding accident when she was twenty-five, just after they were married. She injured her spine and she lost the baby she was carrying. It was a great tragedy But she coped very well.”

  “Tell me more about her. She was obviously someone you cared about.”

  “Oh yes, I did. She was remarkable, and she taught me so much. Not only that, Amelia was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, ever seen. She was like Vivien Leigh in Gone With the Wind. That was the first thing I said to Amelia . . . that she resembled Vivien Leigh.”

  “Then she must have indeed been beautiful. You say she taught you many things. Would you explain this to me, please?”

  “She loved art, antiques, and decorating, and I learned about those things from her. But I also learned about courage . . .
she was so courageous herself. And I learned about dignity and decency from Amelia Silver. Those were some of her other qualities.”

  “What you’re saying is that she gave you certain values.”

  “Yes. And so did Jack. I learned about true kindness from him, and he encouraged me, helped me to understand business. He taught me a great deal about running an inn, almost everything I know, in fact. He was a very smart man.”

  “Was it a busy hotel?”

  “Only on weekends. It was quiet during the week. Silver Lake Inn was and is very much a weekend retreat, and all the year round. But more people came in the good weather, in the spring and summer, than they did in winter. And we were always full in the fall, of course, when the leaves changed color. People loved to come and see the foliage. They still do.”

  “You describe the inn in a very loving voice, Meredith.”

  “I do love Silver Lake. I always have, from the very first moment I saw it. And it was the first real home I ever knew. My first safe haven—” Meredith stopped. She had said too much. She shifted slightly in the chair and focused her eyes on the painting above Hilary Benson’s head.

  Hilary said, “Safe haven . . . had you not felt safe before then, Meredith?”

  “It’s just an expression,” Meredith hedged.

  “You speak so beautifully about the Silvers, I know you must have loved them, obviously still do. How are they—”

  “They’re both dead!” Meredith exclaimed, interrupting the psychiatrist.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Their passing must have been a great loss to you.”

  “It was. I was heartbroken.”

  “When did they die?”

  “Jack died in 1973. He was only thirty-six. And Amelia about a year later, just a bit longer than a year, actually, late in 1974. She was young too, only forty-one.”

  “How truly sad for you to lose two people you cared about so close together. They must have loved you very much.”

  “Oh, yes, they did,” Meredith said softly, remembering them, cherishing them inside. “That’s why it was so hard for me when they died. Jack was the first person to ever show me any affection in my life, put his arms around me, comfort me.”

  There was a brief silence before Hilary Benson asked softly “Are you saying that there was a sexual relationship between you and Jack Silver?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything of the sort!” Meredith shot back, her voice rising. “Amelia also loved me and as much as Jack did. She showed me a great deal of affection too, but it was verbal. The poor woman was in a wheelchair. She couldn’t very well put her arms around me.”

  “I understand,” the psychiatrist replied quietly, noting Meredith’s anger, her overreaction, realizing that there had indeed been a sexual relationship between Meredith and Jack. But it was far too early to probe this. Meredith Stratton was not ready.

  Meredith looked at her watch; it was four o’clock. She had been there almost an hour. “I have an appointment at my office at four-thirty Dr. Benson, and in any case I think our first session is finished, is it not?”

  “Yes, you are correct,” Hilary answered, glancing at the clock on her desk. “I believe we have another appointment on Thursday of this week.”

  “Yes, we do,” Meredith replied, standing up. As she shook the doctor’s hand and then left the private office, she wondered if she would keep it.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Despite her misgiving, Meredith did keep her Thursday appointment with Dr. Hilary Benson. And she agreed to three more sessions the following week.

  So far, the psychiatrist had not pinpointed the cause of her attacks of fatigue.

  It was at her fifth appointment, at the end of the second week, that Meredith finally decided to make it their last meeting.

  “I don’t think we’re getting anywhere at all, Dr. Benson,” she said slowly. “I’ve talked endlessly and you’ve listened, and we’ve not really progressed or come up with anything of real value. We don’t even know if I’m suffering from psychogenic fatigue.”

  “I think you are,” the psychiatrist said firmly.

  “But I haven’t had any more attacks.”

  “I know. But that doesn’t mean very much.”

  “Let’s make this our last session.”

  “I think that would be foolish of you,” Hilary answered quietly, observing her closely. “Something is troubling you. I am certain of that. We just haven’t uncovered it yet.”

  “I can’t come again for several weeks. I’m going to London and Paris for a month.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “On Wednesday or Thursday of next week.”

  “Shall we see how we do today, Meredith?”

  “All right,” she agreed. She did so because she had grown to like Hilary Benson, felt at ease with her and she trusted her. Even though they had not discovered the root of her problem, she knew she was partly at fault. For years she had lived with half-truths, had hidden so much, it was difficult to unearth all of this now.

  Hilary said, “I’m not going to mince my words today, Meredith, I’m going to be brutally honest with you. I know you are lying to me. I know you had a sexual relationship with Jack Silver. I want you to tell me about it.”

  Meredith was so taken aback, she blurted out, “It wasn’t just sexual. We loved each other—” Breaking off, she swiftly averted her face, regretting these words.

  “You mustn’t be embarrassed,” Hilary murmured in an understanding tone. “I’m not here to judge you, I’m only trying to help you. . . . Talk to me, tell me about Jack, tell me what happened all those years ago at Silver Lake Inn. I know you’ll feel better if you do, and having more information about your past will help me to trace the cause of your illness.”

  There was a very long silence. Meredith did not answer. Instead, she rose, walked over to the window, stood looking down onto Park Avenue, thinking about Jack and Amelia and herself, and all that had happened between them so long ago. It had shaped her life, changed her life. She had had so much from them. She did not want Hilary to think badly of Jack. Or of her.

  Turning around, she walked back to the chair and sat down opposite Hilary, who was behind the desk. “Yes, it’s true. We did have a sexual relationship, but we also loved each other very much. I haven’t wanted to talk about it to you because I don’t want you to misunderstand. Words can sound so cold when they’re said. Perhaps you could never understand the love, the emotions, the feelings, there were between us, because you were not a witness to them. No one could understand.” Meredith gave her a long, hard stare.

  Hilary nodded. “I appreciate everything you’re saying. I know exactly what you mean. But as I just told you a moment ago, I’m not a judge or juror, just your doctor. And if I am to help you, I must understand your past.”

  “Do you think that’s troubling me? Our love affair? Jack’s and mine?”

  “I’m not sure, Meredith. I have to hear everything first before I can make an assessment.”

  “Because I’m sure it isn’t. However, I will tell you about Jack, and what happened between us when I went to work at the inn in 1969.”

  “Are you comfortable? Would you prefer to sit over there on the sofa?”

  Meredith shook her head. “No, I’m fine here. I just want to preface what I have to say about Jack with something else. A couple of weeks ago, my son, Jon, told me he used to listen to me crying at night when he was very young. And I did, I wept endless tears until I thought I had none left in me, but I always did. I cried for a lot of things in those days, but especially for Amelia and Jack. I missed them so much.”

  Meredith paused, cleared her throat, then she went on softly. “Jack Silver was my true love. I loved him from the first day I met him. He had fallen in love with me too that day. He called it a coup de foudre. I’d never heard that phrase before. He told me what it meant . . . struck by lightning. But we kept our love at bay for weeks, never disclosed our feelings for each other. Then Amelia
had to go away. She had to visit her mother in Manhattan. The old lady was very ill, probably dying, and Jack drove Amelia into the city. When he returned on that July night, he came looking for me. He found me down by Silver Lake, lying in the grass, endeavoring to cool off. It was extremely hot that month, blistering. He said he needed to talk to me about Amelia; he was worried because he had left her alone with her sick mother, and with only two young maids in attendance. He wondered out loud if he ought to drive me into the city the next day so that I could stay with Amelia, look after her. I told him I would be happy to go, that I’d do anything for him.

  “And then suddenly, without either of us understanding exactly how it happened, we were in each other’s arms, kissing each other. I’d never experienced anything like it before, the surging passion, the desire, and the love I felt for him. I hadn’t had any previous sexual encounters, Dr. Benson, and Jack was upset when he discovered I was a virgin, scolded me for not telling him. But by then it was too late. We had already made love.”

  Meredith fell silent for a split second.

  Hilary Benson said nothing; she knew it was wiser to wait until Meredith was ready to continue her story.

  After a few moments, Meredith said softly, “And we went on making love to each other even after Amelia returned to Silver Lake. We just couldn’t help ourselves, we were so crazily in love. Jack had been terribly deprived for years, before my coming on the scene. He told me that he had once gone to a call girl in New York, but that it had been a failure, a waste of time because he had no feelings for her. But Jack loved me, and he loved Amelia, and we were scrupulous. We never displayed our intense feelings for each other in front of her. Jack always said that Amelia must never know about us, that we must not hurt her in any way whatsoever, and we never did.”

  “She never knew?” Hilary asked.

  Meredith did not answer. Instead, she went on, “Then one day I missed my period. I knew I must be pregnant. I was terrified, convinced Amelia would guess the baby was Jack’s child. But he reassured me, told me Amelia would never suspect. I believed him, why wouldn’t I? I loved him beyond all reason. When I asked him what I would say to Amelia, how I would explain my pregnancy, he said I must invent a boyfriend, say that my new young man was the father. Later I could explain to her that my boyfriend had let me down, gone away and left me in the lurch, left me to fend for myself. And this is what I did tell Amelia, and she believed me.