Dream of Fair Woman

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Dream of Fair Woman Page 23

by Charlotte Armstrong


  He said, ‘Ma?’

  Peg looked up, quickly.

  ‘Why did Betty do that?’

  His mother looked at him, examining the question.

  ‘Did she do it for Lilianne?’

  His mother pulled her brows together, questioning the question.

  ‘She didn’t do it for me, did she?’ He was red in the face.

  Peg’s mouth opened to an O of outrage. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’

  ‘But why—’

  ‘She did it for herself. She had to. She couldn’t help it. Oh, go on.’ Peg got up and began to collect the dishes with great indignant energy, as if to say, Have I such a fool, then, for a son?

  Matt slunk away. He wasn’t sure he understood, but he was feeling better as he walked through the park.

  Tony Severson was sitting in the hospital lobby, looking dejected, with his hands between his legs. He leaped up. ‘How is she?’

  ‘They say she came through fine.’

  ‘Can I see her?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Not now.’

  ‘When, then?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To see her.’

  ‘How come you rate?’ Tony’s face flushed.

  Matt stood still for a moment. ‘Come to think of it, I don’t know,’ he said and turned away.

  ‘Well, it ain’t fair.’ Tony huffed behind him. ‘Listen, I’d have rather cut off my head! I want her to know … Hey, does she know?’

  ‘They’ve told her the usual “everything’s all right.” No details, I guess.’

  ‘Well, don’t you tell her, buddy-boy. I want to tell her myself—when I’m let—what a damn fool I turned out to be. Listen, I wouldn’t have had old Betts get hurt for sixty million dollars!’

  ‘All right,’ said Matt vaguely and walked away.

  The nurse in the room turned out to be Selma Marsh. He and she were ancient friends, on some level that couldn’t be explained. She smiled at him tremulously and shook her head to indicate sad wonder over the events of the day before. Then she smiled a different smile, to indicate that Betty was going to be all right.

  Betty was sleeping.

  He went to look at her, where she was lying on her back with her head wound in white. A few freckles were sharp on her skin. Her eyes were closed. He couldn’t see the colour of her eyes. He knew them to be brown.

  The room was very quiet. Peaceful. He stood waiting, brooding. Dr Jon came in. He looked closely at Betty, nodded to Matt without smiling, and left them. The nurse twitched Matt’s sleeve, smiled to say ‘Excuse me?’ and went out after the doctor.

  Old Betts.

  It was a good body, a very pleasing female body. It was a good face. He seemed never to have seen it before; he knew it very well. In the round little skull under the white there was a good brain that would be as good as ever, so they said.

  All of a sudden, he couldn’t stand this. He panicked. His heart began to race. He had to see the spirit back into this body. He bent and put his hand around her wrist, her small dainty wrist. ‘Betty?’

  At once, she stirred. She sighed. She opened her eyes. They were, for a moment, blank with sleep and Matt felt like dying. Then he saw the person seeping back. Saw the consciousness. ‘I am me.’ Saw the slow wondering, ‘But why here? Why so?’ Saw himself recognised. Saw, as if in a mirror, the fact of his own existence.

  ‘Hi,’ she murmured, peacefully.

  A wave of what felt like homesickness hit him. He said, ‘How are you, old Betts?’ Wished he hadn’t said that. Blurted, ‘What did you do that for?’

  Saw she didn’t even remember what she had done.

  (Thought, But you do what you are. You have to. It isn’t often you can help it.)

  Said with joy and relief, ‘Never mind. Peg sends love. Your ma is flying down.’ Picked up her hand and squeezed it. ‘You’re back, huh? That’s good.’

  Ducked meeting brown eyes—that could meet and could see.

  Couldn’t say ‘I’m in love with you.’ He loved her dearly—but how could he be ‘in love’ with someone he knew so well?

  He was a dreamer. He hadn’t known that, but he knew it now.

  Felt the hand wiggle out of his. Saw her turn away, the eyes wide open. The spirit brooding upon itself, what it was? Dreaming after what it needed? Fierce bridegroom? Part-time father? The other half of wisdom?

  Saw the body, turned in the lovely curve of woman.

  Had never known her.

  Held his breath.

  About the Author

  Edgar Award–winning Charlotte Armstrong (1905–1969) was one of the finest American authors of classic mystery and suspense. The daughter of an inventor, Armstrong was born in Vulcan, Michigan, and attended Barnard College, in New York City. After college she worked at the New York Times and the magazine Breath of the Avenue, before marrying and turning to literature in 1928. For a decade, she wrote plays and poetry, with work produced on Broadway and published in the New Yorker. In the early 1940s, she began writing suspense.

  Success came quickly. Her first novel, Lay On, MacDuff! (1942) was well received, spawning a three-book series. Over the next two decades, she wrote more than two dozen novels, winning critical acclaim and a dedicated fan base. The Unsuspected (1945) and Mischief (1950) were both made into films, and A Dram of Poison (1956) won the Edgar Award for best novel. She died in California in 1969.

  All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 1966 by Jack and Charlotte Lewi Family Trust

  Cover design by Jason Gabbert

  ISBN: 978-1-5040-4268-0

  This 2016 edition published by MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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  CHARLOTTE ARMSTRONG

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