by Jane Jordan
In the days that followed, I tried to infiltrate back into this familiar world again. But the mundane routine of getting up and attempting to get through each day with a degree of normality depressed me no end, because inside I was screaming. My thoughts haunted me and my dreams were confused and frightening. I felt distraught at first, but soon I felt angry.
How could he have done this to me?
Then, on the third evening back in London, my doorbell rang. My heart almost stopped. I hoped with every ounce of my being that it was Darius and it felt as though I practically flew down the stairs in my eagerness to open the door. Not Darius, but Charlie stood before me.
“Madeline, where the hell have you been?” It wasn’t really a question, more of an accusation. I tried to hide the disappointment in my voice when I answered.
“Hello Charlie, you know I was in the West Country,” I said, feeling irritated by the mere sight of him.
Why couldn’t’t this have been Darius?
“How the hell do I know that? You take off without a word to anyone, for all I know you could have been abducted,” he snapped. I stared at him in astonishment, he seemed really angry. I didn’t know what he was talking about, and I wasn’t in the mood for this. I didn’t’t have to explain myself to anyone, especially to him.
“Charlie just go, I’ll call you in a few days. I haven’t been well and I need to sleep.” I wanted to close the door, but he blocked it and remained standing in the doorway looking at me as if he were seeing me for the first time.
“Madeline,” he said in a calmer tone, “I’ve been really worried, no-one knew where you were. If you are sick . . . I should stay with you.”
“No,” I said at once. “I really need to be alone. Just go, Charlie. I’m fine, I will call you.” I closed the door amid his protest. I had to end this relationship with Charlie once and for all. I just didn’t’t have the strength for any sort of emotional confrontation with him, not in my fragile state of mind. Strange though, I was sure that I had told him where I was going, but the plain fact was I hadn’t even thought of him for weeks and seeing him again now had surprised and even shocked me.
Just goes to show that we shouldn’t’t be together.
I spent another restless and tortured night, and the next morning I went downstairs to the communal foyer to collect my mail. I picked up the few letters waiting for me on the doormat. Initially I did not pay much attention to them as my lack of interest in everything around me was becoming stronger. I walked back to my flat and quickly glanced at the contents in my hand. They appeared to be the regular sort of mail, bills and junk, and I discarded them on my side table. But as I did so, one envelope caught my eye. It looked familiar, fine quality stationery adorned with beautiful handwriting that had been penned in ink. I instantly seized it, scattering all the others over the floor, and tore it open. Two sheets of paper were inside, one of which fluttered to the floor. I quickly scooped it up and unfolded its single crease.
I was staring at an ancestral family tree, but not just any tree. I saw my name and
realized -- this was my family tree. I was fascinated to read the names of ancestors going back several generations, but it was when I read the name Theophilus Shaw near the top of the page, I caught my breath, as the realization hit me that I was his direct descendent. Somehow that was a fact I had not realized before and that knowledge brought to the fore-front of my mind the tale that Darius had told.
I studied the page and even though I had been shocked by that revelation, there was a far bigger shock to come. One name jumped out at me above all others and I stared at it with unbelieving eyes, then I read the death date underneath.
My breathing shallowed, my pulse quickened and heart beat increased. I leaned against the wall for support, as my legs were likely to buckle at any moment. I remembered the other sheet of paper that I still held in my hands. I was trembling as I unfolded it.
My throat, already dry, became parched and the trembling increased on account of the words I read. At first I was unable to fully comprehend the reality, I could not believe this information, I would not, but as I thought back the shock and horror hit me simultaneously with full force. I sank to the floor unable to stand any longer. Obsessively, I read the letter many times, the revelations spinning around my head and I did not move for what seemed like hours.
I must have got up at some point, but had no recollection of doing so. I put the letter in the wooden box along with the many others from before, and went into the bedroom in a dream-like state. Even though I had been back a few days, I had not opened my suitcase, it still was shut on the floor. Now, I opened it and tipped the contents out. My actions had no reason, I just needed to do something. My mind was somewhere else, my thoughts were irrational.
What should I do?
I sat frozen in front of the pile of clothes and cosmetics, my eyes saw, but they did not register anything for a while. Then, very slowly they came to focus on a glass vial of brown liquid. I picked it up and stared at it. Somewhere in my mind Darius’s voice came to me. It told me that this would help me. And I needed help. I couldn’t face this, I couldn’t stand the burden and suddenly it made sense. It was a sign I had unconsciously looked for, so clear to me now.
Darius left it there, he knew I couldn’t live with this knowledge or without him.
I lay down upon the bed with the vial clutched in my hand. I pulled out the stopper and after a brief moment, I drank the contents and then I closed my eyes and my mind to the outside world.
Chapter Fourteen - The Letter
I could hear muffled noises, my head felt strange, my stomach hurt and nausea swept over me. I opened my eyes and tried to focus on the dark shape that was closest to me. Slowly my vision sharpened.
“Charlie, what are you doing here?” I said, in surprise. I was in a white room, and there was a humming noise coming from some sort of monitor close to me. “What happened?” I asked unsteadily, and sat up feeling dazed and confused.
“You are in hospital,” Charlie replied quietly. I stared at him in shock.
“What happened, how did I get here?” I didn’t remember anything after I lay down on the bed, only a peaceful darkness. “Did I have an accident?” I pressed, looking at Charlie. He sighed softly.
“I came back to the flat in the morning because I was worried about you.” He paused for a moment. “Your neighbour downstairs let me in, but when I got to your door I heard a noise. It sounded as if you had fallen, and when you wouldn’t’t answer the door, I broke in.” Charlie saw my look of shock and quickly added, “I’ll get the door fixed for you tomorrow, and I just haven’t had the time yet. After I got in, I found you on the floor unconscious. I think you fell from the bed when I knocked on the door. You were bleeding from the broken glass in your hand, so I called an ambulance and here you are . . .” his voice trailed off. He wore a strange expression, one that I did not recognize.
“How long have you been using drugs, Madeline?” I stared at him, shocked at his question.
“What are you talking about?” My head hurt and I couldn’t believe what Charlie had just accused me of. Why would he think that? He turned reproachfully to me.
“They found enough heroin in your bloodstream to have killed you. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I am talking about,” he remarked bitterly.
It was suddenly clear. Darius had given me several doses of opium and combined with what I had taken, any blood test would have shown positive for a substantial amount of morphine in my bloodstream as opium and heroin both contained morphine. It must appear like I was a drug addict, but I couldn’t tell Charlie the truth. I couldn’t betray Darius. I didn’t know how to account for the opium without going into details, so I ignored Charlie’s question.
“What hospital am I in?”
“St. Julienne’s,” Charlie replied angrily.
“But . . . that’s a psychiatric hospital,” I said, feeling uneasier by the minute.
“What do you
expect when you try to kill yourself?” he snapped back at me.
“What?” I couldn’t believe what Charlie was saying. “No, I wasn’t trying to do that, you have got it wrong!” I reluctantly told him the story of Ravens Deep and how I had been sick. I told him that the medication I had been given may have contained morphine and that a neighbour had assisted me, but I did not mention Darius’s name. Charlie didn’t’t need to know everything. Charlie listened to me in silence, but I could see the disbelief in his eyes as he narrowed them fractionally, he probably thought my story was highly suspicious.
“How long have I been here?” I said with sudden urgency.
“Two days,” Charlie replied watching me suspiciously, as though I might do something unpredictable. Seeing his look I calmed myself and remained quiet. It was Charlie who finally broke the silence.
“I have spoken to the doctor, he wants to keep you here for a while. They feel you could be suffering from some sort of drug induced breakdown . . .” I didn’t hear Charlie’s next words, I was feeling panicked. They couldn’t keep me here against my will. Could they? I suddenly remembered the letters, and the fact that my door was now broken.
“Charlie, please do something for me,” I said with some urgency, “this is really important, you need to return to my flat and get my mother’s wooden box. It contains some letters. Please bring it to me, I really have to have it.” I saw his look of reluctance.
“I should stay here with you.”
“Charlie, please. Please do this for me,” I smiled at him hoping to appeal to his
sympathetic senses. I could tell he was shocked and angry with me, and I couldn’t blame him for that, but he was the only person I could trust to do this. He finally agreed, and left soon after. Alone again, I began to get anxious.
I did lock the box and reseal those letters. Didn’t I?
I didn’t think Charlie would read them, he would respect my privacy, he was that type of person. But I couldn’t risk anyone reading those letters and was extremely worried as now the door to my flat was broken, anyone could walk in there if they so wished. A thought also crossed my mind. Those letters may be useful in proving to the doctors that I wasn’t delusional. They obviously would have their doubts when they heard how I came to have so much morphine in my bloodstream. At the very least, I could prove where I had been for the past few months, but I would have to be careful, no-one could ever be allowed to read that last letter.
I had to leave hospital, maybe Darius would change his mind and come looking for me. A few days ago I had desperately wished he would, but now that very wish was mixed with terror from the fact that he might. It was a bewildering situation, and I felt the shock all over again as I lay back thinking. Had I intended to kill myself? I didn’t really think so. I had not really thought at all, I just wanted to shut out the world in all its entirety and thought I was doing the right thing. After all Darius had saved my life when he had given me the opium to help me sleep and get better. But I had obviously taken too much.
With nothing to do apart from lie quietly in the hospital bed, I replayed everything back, now I knew the truth, all the previous months made sense. I had been frightened, terrified even, but now regardless of what Darius was, his words played on my mind, he was as tormented as I. And I was certain of one thing -- I wanted to see him again.
I couldn’t forget all the hours we had spent together. My love for him was as strong as ever. We shared a deep connection that defied all reason, but I saw now that he was afraid, and because of that fear he had sent me away.
Charlie returned a little later and as he entered the room, I eagerly looked at his hands. But they were empty.
“Where are the box and the letters?” I asked. He sat down by the bed.
“Madeline there was no letters. The box was empty,” he said and I saw the disturbed look that passed briefly across his face.
“Empty, how could that be?” I shook my head, confused and thought back to recall exactly what I had done with those letters. I had put them in the box; there was no doubt in my mind. I was stunned into silence. Charlie interrupted my thoughts.
“Madeline, I telephoned Beaconmayes Post office,” he said slowly, “they told me that there was no such house as Ravens Deep,” he paused for a moment. “In all their years of business they have never delivered mail to any such address.”
“Well why would they?” I retorted bitterly. “No-one has lived there for decades.”
I was still trying to figure out what had happened to my letters. The only plausible
explanation was that Darius must have come and taken them. He must have realized that they were a terrible threat to him, but did he come to find me also? Did he believe that I was also a threat to him, or did he regret sending me away, and realize that we were meant to be together?
A doctor had entered the room and was now talking to Charlie in a hushed voice. He turned to me.
“Hello Madeline, I am Doctor Matthews.”
“I need to leave doctor. When can I go home?” I replied without hesitation.
“Well, it’s like this, Madeline,” he said pulling up a chair, “we really would like to keep you in for a while and run some tests.”
“No!” I said at once, “I want to leave.”
“When we are certain that you pose no further risk to yourself, you may leave. In the meantime I want to keep you in for observations. You are very pale and well below a healthy weight, and in good conscience I cannot discharge you until I feel you are well again.” He wrote something on my chart and went to speak to the nurse, then turned back to me.
“I will check on you tomorrow,” he said smiling at me before he left the room.
“Why Charlie,” I said looking at him nervously. “Why do they want to keep me here? I am not a danger to myself. What tests are they talking about?” Charlie sat quietly.
“Charlie tell me, I have to know,” I said, feeling scared. Charlie looked at me with an expression of concern, and then he dropped his gaze and hesitated before replying.
“The doctor thinks you may have suffered some sort of mental breakdown and developed an alternative personality,” he said meeting my gaze with his own. “One part of you may be totally unaware of what your other persona is doing. It could be caused by the stress of losing your parents so suddenly and compounded by your drug use, and you are also showing symptoms of anorexia.”
“What are you saying? That I am insane?” I glared at him realizing the implication of his words, I was furious and upset.
“Get out Charlie; I am as sane as you. Get out now.” I had raised my voice and a nurse instantly hurried into the room.
“I think you should leave,” she said looking at Charlie. “You are upsetting Miss Shaw and she needs to rest.” Charlie left abruptly without a word, slamming the door as he went.
“How are you feeling?” The nurse took my wrist and checked the bandage.
“What happened to my wrist?” I asked, not having noticed it before.
“Don’t you remember?” she asked, releasing my arm gently.
“No I don’t or I wouldn’t be asking, would I?” I replied in my most sarcastic tone.
“Calm down Madeline, we think that you tried to cut your wrist when you took the overdose.” I must have looked blank for she emphasized, “When you tried to kill yourself.” Satisfied that I comprehended her words and was not in any immediate danger, she walked out of the door. I sat up with a feeling of growing confusion.
I looked down at my wrist and undid the bandage. My skin was covered with bruises and deep welts from where Darius had gripped my wrist -- I did remember.
I sat there alone and started to think about what had happened to me since returning to London. What did they know? The doctor, the nurse, even Charlie. I would get out of here, they couldn’t’t commit me. They had to let me leave after a few tests and observations. I would leave soon and Darius would find me. Despite the contents of the letter he would realize, just a
s I had, that we were meant to be together.
He can no longer exist in this world without me, anymore than I can without him. I will wait until I hear his voice and gaze into those eyes that will compel me to him. He is out there somewhere, but not close enough yet. In the meantime, even though the paper may be gone, his last written words remain imprinted in my heart and etched in my mind for all eternity, where I alone can see them.
27 Parson Place
London, SW3
My Dearest Madeline,
I choose to write this letter to you because now that you have gone, your words haunt me still: “It is better to know the truth so you may move on from it.” If this allows you to move on with your life, then I am compelled to reveal the truth of my existence. I know in your love for me, or maybe after consideration, that love will turn to hate, you will keep your promise and never return.
Why did I lure you to Ravens Deep? I believe the answer is curiosity and because of the striking resemblance to your namesake buried in the churchyard. After all these years I selfishly longed for someone to amuse me, someone that was more extraordinary than anyone else and I certainly found all those things and more in you, but it was the more that I hadn’t bargained for.
You awoke feelings and desires which I believed to have died longer ago than I care to recall. You will always be my beloved, my one and only true love, but my soul has been damned and I refuse to allow that fact to destroy your life.
In our time together, I was aware of the horror of what I could do. In my enchantment over you I clouded your rational thoughts and judgment, and despite my best efforts you suffered anyway. I watched over you whilst you slept in my belief that I could keep you safe, but in reality you needed a life far from me to keep you truly safe. I can no longer allow you to live your life that way or bring you the torment of my life and my existence. I want a better existence for you.