The Silent Pool

by Patricia Wentworth

  ‘Haven’t you, Janet – haven’t you?’

  ‘Why should I?’

  His laugh shook a little.

  ‘Part of the worldly goods I’ll be endowing you with. No, that’s out of date. The last wedding I went to the chap said “share”. Rather a pity, don’t you think? I rather like the sound of that “I thee endow”. A bit archaic of course, but so is marriage.’

  ‘No one was talking about marriage.’

  ‘Oh, yes, darling, I was – definitely. I’ve been laying my pay-packet and the linoleum and things at your feet for at least ten minutes. Hadn’t you noticed it?’

  She said, ‘No.’ At least she went through the right movements for saying ‘No’, but they didn’t seem to result in any recognizable sound.

  Ninian said, ‘Come again!’ still in that laughing, shaking voice. And then all at once his black head was bent down over the hand he was holding and he was kissing it as if he would never let it go.

  There was a moment when everything seemed to go round, there was a moment when everything stood still. With the touch of his lips on her hand Janet knew very well that she couldn’t go on saying no. But she could at least stop herself from saying yes. It was, in fact, not really possible to say anything at all.

  And then someone spoke on the other side of the screen which divided them from the nook on their right. It was Geoffrey Ford, and he could not have been more than a yard away from them. He said comfortably, ‘Well, no one is going to see us here,’ and a woman laughed.

  Janet snatched away her hand, and Ninian presented the unmistakable appearance of a young man who is saying, ‘Damn!’ Not aloud of course, but with a good deal of feeling. On the other side of the screen two people could be heard settling themselves.

  Janet got up, collected her bag, and skirted the table. Ninian followed her, put a hand on her arm, and was shaken off. As they emerged into the general gloom, the woman who had laughed said in a low but perfectly distinct voice,

  ‘I’m not going on like this, and you needn’t think so.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Janet woke up in the night. She had been dreaming, and the feel of the dream came with her out of her sleep like water dripping as you come up out of a stream. She sat up in bed and waited for the feeling to go. It was an old dream, but she hadn’t had it for a long time now. It came when her mind was troubled, but she did not know what had troubled it tonight. Didn’t she? Ninian and this talk of all the things she had told herself she must and would forget! In sober earnest, how much of it did he mean? Nothing – something – anything? And what kind of fool would she be to be lured back into the passionate moments, the light uncertainties, the day-in, day-out companionship which had been between them? She had said, ‘Never any more,’ and he had only to look at her and kiss her hand and her heart broke with longing to take him back again.

  In the dream she was fording a burn – just a shallow, pleasant thing with the pebbles shining through the brown water and the sun turning them to gold. Only she couldn’t get to the other side, and with every step it was deeper. The water was dark and drumly, and the sun was something she had forgotten long ago. Sometimes she woke then, but once she had waded so deep that the water was up to her mouth and the roaring filled her ears. It hadn’t been so bad as that tonight. The stream had been no higher than her knees, and here she was awake. It could rise no farther now.

  She looked at the windows standing open with the curtains drawn back and the shape of them just discernible against the denser blackness of the walls. She slipped out of bed and went barefoot to the right-hand one of the two, feeling her way past the dressing-table which stood between them. The night was still, and warm, and very dark, with a feeling of low cloud and not a leaf that stirred. She knelt down and leaned out with her elbows on the sill. There was an autumn smell abroad. Someone had had a bonfire. There was just the tang of wood-smoke on the air, and there was the scent of all the ripe and ripening things that were coming on to their harvest time. The softness and the silence touched her thought and stilled it. The dream wouldn’t come again. She could stay here for a little while longer and then go back into bed and sleep.

  Quite suddenly there was a streak of light across the gravel under the window – a long, thin streak lying crookedly across the path and slanting over the tall musk roses in the bed beyond. It was there, but it did not stay. It moved, ran backwards, and was gone. And then a moment later there it was again, but much farther to the right. The curtains in the room below didn’t quite meet, and someone had just walked across that room with a light. Whoever it was had now gone on through the connecting door to Edna’s own little sitting-room. There chintz curtains veiled the light, and it was no longer a streak but a dull glow upon the path.

  Janet got up and went through to the nursery. The windows here were shut, but since they were casements they could be opened without making any sound. She leaned out, and the glow was still there. She looked over her shoulder at the nursery clock with its luminous face. It was between ten minutes and a quarter to two. Edna might have gone down – to get a book – or because she couldn’t sleep. Or Geoffrey. Or Meriel. Or Adriana, for the matter of that, only it really didn’t seem at all likely. No, quite definitely, if Adriana wanted anything in the middle of the night she would send Meeson down for it, and Meeson would expect to be sent. Only Meeson would have everything she wanted for making tea or coffee in the little pantry which was part of Adriana’s suite of rooms. Of course it might be any of the others – or it might be someone who hadn’t any business to be there. She couldn’t just go back to bed and leave it uncertain. Suppose she were to come down in the morning and find that all the silver had been stolen. But it didn’t seem very sensible just to walk in on a burglar by herself. She would have to call Ninian.

  As the thought went through her mind, the window below her was opened. It was one of those long glass doors with a handle which controls the bolt. It made a faint sound as it swung wide, and at the same moment the light went out. There was a sound of footsteps on the gravel and a sound of whispering voices. She leaned out over the sill, and she strained to hear what the whispering voices said.

  But they were just a rustling murmur. She could not tell whether it was man or woman who was whispering there below. And then the rustlings ran together into the syllables of a single sentence, and still she didn’t know whether it was man or woman who had spoken. First Adriana’s name – suddenly, like water splashing in her face. And then the sentence which she was to go over and over in her mind – and at the end know no more what it meant than she did at the beginning:

  ‘There’s nothing for anyone as long as she keeps hanging on.’

  Someone went away along the path. Janet could hear the footsteps getting fainter, until in the end she could not hear them at all. The flicker of a torch receded with them. When it was quite gone someone stepped back over the sill into Edna’s sitting-room and shut the door. She got up on to her feet and went out into the passage and along to the landing at the head of the stairs. There was a light in the hall below, just a weak bulb, but coming out of the dark like this it seemed much brighter than it really was.

  Janet looked over the stairs and saw Edna Ford in a grey flannel dressing-gown with her hair scraped back and done up in aluminium curlers. The light shone on her, on the tears that were running down her face. Janet had heard about people wringing their hands, but she had never thought of it as a thing that anyone really ever did. But Edna was wringing her hands as she walked and wept. The thin fingers clung and twisted, the hands were twined together and strained apart. She had the look of a woman who has been stripped of everything and left in a desolate wilderness.

  Whatever had happened or was happening, Janet felt that it was not for her to see. She drew back into the dark passage from which she had come.

  She had not reached the nursery door, when she heard a sound that brought her running back. It wasn’t loud, but there was no mistaking it. Edna had g
iven a kind of choking gasp and come down. She could have tripped on the stair, or she could have turned giddy and lost her balance, but there she was, about five or six steps up, with an arm thrown out and her face hidden against it.

  Janet ran down barefoot.

  ‘Mrs Ford – are you hurt?’

  Edna lifted up her head and stared at her. Her face had a naked look, the pale eyes reddened, the sallow skin stained with tears.

  ‘Mrs Ford – are you hurt?’

  There was a faint negative movement of the head.

  ‘Let me help you up.’

  The movement was repeated.

  ‘But you can’t stay here!’

  Edna said in an extinguished voice,

  ‘What does it matter?’

  Janet had to guess at the words. She said firmly,

  ‘You can’t stay here. Let me help you to your room. I’ll make you a cup of tea. You are like ice.’

  After a minute or two Edna began to draw long sobbing breaths and to sit up. Her room faced the top of the stairs. Janet managed to get her there and into her bed again. All the household knew that Mr and Mrs Ford did not share a room. He had a good large dressing-room separated from his wife’s by a bathroom. When Janet asked if she should call him Edna caught her hand and held it in an icy grip.

  ‘No – no! Promise you won’t do that!’

  ‘Then I’ll just get you a cup of tea and a hot-water bottle. I have everything in the nursery.’

  When she came back in her green dressing-gown with the tray and the hot-water bottle, Edna Ford had stopped weeping. She thanked Janet, and she drank the tea. When she put down the cup she said,

  ‘I was upset. I hope you won’t speak of it.’

  ‘Of course I won’t. Are you warmer now?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  There was a long pause, after which she said,

  ‘It was nothing. I thought I heard a sound. I went down, but of course there was no one there. It was just that some thing startled me. I’m rather a nervous person, I’m afraid. It suddenly came over me that I had done a very dangerous thing going down like that, and I had one of my giddy attacks. I wouldn’t like anyone to know about it.’

  Janet left the bedside light burning and took away the tray. As she came to the nursery passage, Geoffrey Ford was crossing the hall below. He was in his pyjamas with a handsome black and gold dressing-gown belted over them. She made haste to get back to her own room.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Janet gave Stella her breakfast next morning and took her to the Vicarage without seeing any of the others. When she returned they were all in the dining-room, Edna pouring out the tea and Geoffrey dispensing fishcakes as if there had been no midnight excursions. Edna looked a little more run-in-the-wash than usual, but her manner had not changed. She found small fidgeting faults with the service, the weather, and in fact with everything. The toast was not fresh – ‘Mrs Simmons will make it too soon. It is incredible how often one has to say a thing before one can get it done.’

  Geoffrey gave his pleasant easy laugh.

  ‘Perhaps, my dear, if you didn’t say it quite so often-’

  Her eyes were still reddened with last night’s weeping. They dwelt on him for a moment.

  ‘There are always things that have to be said, Geoffrey.’

  He looked back at her, handsome and good-humoured.

  ‘Well, my dear, I can’t see the use of worrying yourself to skin and bone. You wear yourself out, and people mostly go on taking their own way. You can’t change human nature. Live and let live – but I suppose you’ll tell me to take my own advice and let you do as you wish. How many people are coming to this do of Adriana’s tomorrow?’

  Meriel gave a scornful laugh.

  ‘Half the county, I should think! We shan’t be able to hear ourselves speak, and everyone will hate it like poison! But Adriana will have staged her come-back, which is all that matters – to her!’

  Mabel Preston wanted to know who was coming.

  ‘It really is tomorrow, isn’t it? Will the Duchess come – did Adriana ask her? I saw her in the distance once, opening a bazaar. She was very distinguished-looking, but I wouldn’t have called her pretty. Of course you don’t need looks if you are a duchess. My goodness! I don’t suppose I’ve got anything half smart enough to wear! Not that these high-up people are always smart – not by any means. Why, I saw the old Duchess of Hochstein once at a charity bazaar, and she was really what you would call dowdy. Very stout, you know, and miles behind the fashion. And she was Royalty!’

  Janet went up to the nursery. Ninian followed her.

  ‘We’ve missed the nine-thirty, but there’s the ten-twenty-nine. You’d better hurry up and dress.’

  She turned on him, her eyes bright with anger.

  ‘Ninian, have done with this! It’s nonsense!’

  He propped himself against the mantelpiece.

  ‘A serious expedition to town to take a flat is not my idea of nonsense.’

  ‘I have no intention of taking a flat!’

  ‘Haven’t you then? That’s very interesting. I’d better make a note of it in case I forget. Aren’t you making it a bit difficult? It’s not so easy to get anything done if you won’t let yourself have any intentions.’

  ‘Ninian!’

  ‘All right, all right, if you won’t come you won’t, but don’t say I didn’t ask you. And when I’ve taken the flat without anyone to help me, don’t tell me the linoleum is foul and you can’t live with the curtains – that’s all. I must rush for the bus.’

  It was about an hour later that Meriel burst into the room. There was an unusual amount of colour in her cheeks and her voice was angry.

  ‘Really, Adriana is the limit!’

  Janet finished writing, ‘Two blue smocks – won’t let down any more-’

  Meriel stamped her foot.

  ‘Why don’t you answer me? What are you doing?’

  ‘There didn’t seem to be anything to answer. I’m making out a list of Stella’s clothes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Star wants it.’

  Meriel threw back her head and laughed.

  ‘Clothes! There’s no getting away from them! I’ve just come from Adriana’s room, and what do you suppose she’s doing? The place looks like a jumble sale – it’s got clothes laid out everywhere! And do you know what she’s doing with them? She is giving most of them away to that damned Mabel!’

  ‘Why shouldn’t she?’

  Meriel made a dramatic gesture.

  ‘Because they are all perfectly good clothes! Because she might have asked me if I wanted any of them! Because all she cares about is putting herself over big and having that silly old fool gawping at her and saying how marvellous she is! Do you know, there’s a coat there I’ve wanted ever since she got it! I’d look wonderful in it, and Mabel makes everything look as if it had come out of a rag-bag!’

  ‘Why didn’t you ask Adriana to give it to you?’

  ‘I did – I did! And what do you suppose she said? I’ll swear she was just going to give it to Mabel, but when I asked for it she said oh, no, she didn’t think she could spare it! It was so nice for the garden, and she thought she would keep it in the cloakroom so as to have it handy if she just wanted to go out for a little!’

  ‘Well, that seems reasonable.’

  ‘It’s not – it’s not! She’s doing it to spite me! I tell you she got herself a new coat in town the other day – big soft checks of rust and brown! And this one is much more my style – bold squares of black and white with an emerald strip! I tell you it’s me! And as soon as my back is turned she’ll give it to Mabel! – I know she will! Unless – Oh, Janet, couldn’t you say something – couldn’t you stop her?’

  ‘No, I don’t think I could.’

  ‘You mean you won’t! You don’t care – nobody does!’

  Janet controlled herself. She found it difficult to carry on a conversation with Meriel for more than five minute
s without wanting to shake her. She thought regretfully that her moral character must be deteriorating. She made a real effort.

  ‘Now look here – why don’t you wait until Adriana is alone, and then ask her quietly about the coat? If she has said she wants to keep it for a bit she won’t have given it to Mabel, and you can’t very well ask for it now. But you could tell her how much you liked it and say you hope she won’t give it to anyone else.’

  Meriel went into a pose.

  ‘And you think that would stop her? How little you know about us! If she thought I had set my heart on anything, it would just make her determined to keep it from me – yes, it would! And have me there to look on while she gave it away to somebody else! It is the sort of thing she would enjoy. You see, you have the ordinary commonplace mind – no, don’t be offended. It must be wonderful to take the everyday things as they come and never look beneath the surface or long to walk among the stars! I wish I could be like that, but it’s no use. And you can’t begin to understand Adriana or me, so it is no good your trying. But we see clearly enough about each other. She knows just what will hurt me, and I can see her enjoying it. It isn’t a happy thing to be able to see into someone else’s mind. Be thankful that you were not born that way. I see too much, and sometimes I shudder at what I see!’ She passed a hand across her eyes and went trailing out of the room.

  When Janet had finished with Stella’s clothes she made her way to Adriana’s room. She found a scene which resembled a dress shop. Clothes of every description trailed from the chairs, hung over the back of the couch, and were piled wherever there was room to pile them. The coat described by Meriel was very much to the fore. Adriana was, in fact, in the act of slipping it off.

  It was certainly striking. The sharp black and white of the twelve-inch checks, the vivid green of the stripe which crossed them, made Janet blink and reflect that it would certainly be a trying garment for poor old Mabel Preston. Much more suitable for Meriel really. She could see her looking dramatic and rather handsome in it.