The Black Swan

“So chilly,” Phillida was saying. “I think we shall need some fires in the bedrooms.” I was not listening. I was just standing there, staring down. And as I did so, he lifted his hat. Clearly I saw the widow’s peak.

I heard Phillida’s voice, “What is it, Lucie?”

She rose and came to stand beside me. I turned to her almost triumphantly because he was still there. Phillida was staring blankly out of the window. “What is it?” she said. “What are you looking at?”

“Look-look! He’s there.”

“What? Where””

“Down there.” I turned to her. “Surely you can see ...”

She was looking at me incredulously. I saw fear in her face. “Oh ... my God!” I heard her murmur. She sat down on the bed.

I went to her. “You saw, Phillida. No one can say I imagined it now.”

She looked at me pityingly. “Oh, Lucie... Lucie ... I don’t know what to say.”

I dragged her back to the window.

He was gone.

“You saw him... you can confirm ...”

She shook her head and avoided looking at me.

“Lucie... I’m sorry ... I saw nothing. There was nothing there.”

“You can’t mean that. You’re lying ...”

“Oh, Lucie, I wish I were.”

I was astounded and angry.

I cried, “You did see him. You must have. He was standing there. He took off his hat and bowed. You must have seen his hair.”

“Lucie, my dear, dear Lucie, there was no one there.”

“I saw him, I tell you, I saw him.”

“Lucie dear, you have had a terrible shock... sometimes it takes a long time to get over these things.”

“You are not telling the truth. Why do you lie?”

“How I wish I were! How I wish I could say I saw him. I’d give anything to say I did. But I didn’t. I just didn’t. Truly... there was no one there.” I covered my face with my hands. She was lying, I was telling myself. She must be.

But why?

Roland had come into the room. “What on earth is the matter?” he asked.

“Oh, Roland ...” said Phillida. “It was terrible ...”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Lucie saw ... or thought she saw ...”

“I saw! I saw!” I shouted.

“It was the ghost again.”

“Where?”

“Down there. Outside, the one Lucie thought she saw before.”

“Oh, Lucie,” said Roland. “My dear Lucie.”

“I was there with her, Roland. There wasn’t anybody there.”

“She saw him,” I said. “She must have seen him. She’s not telling the truth. Why?

Why?”

“I think you should get to bed, Lucie. Phillida...” He looked toward the door. He was telling her to go. She disturbed me. “Come, Lucie,” he went on. “Tell me about it. Was it ... the same?”

Phillida was at the door. “I’ll get something to drink,” she said. “It will do her a lot of good.”

Roland sat beside me.

“Tell me all about it,” he said soothingly.

“I went to the window and I saw him there. I called to Phillida. She came. She was right beside me. She said she couldn’t see anything. She must have seen him. He was there... right there.”

He stroked my hair. “Lucie,” he said. “Why don’t you get to bed. You’re tired out.”

“Please don’t treat me like an imbecile, Roland,” I said sharply.

“It’s the last thing I want to do. But you are tired out.”

“I don’t like this place.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not for long, you’re going to say. I don’t like it for one night, let alone a month.”

“Look, Lucie. You’re here with us ... with me. I’ll make everything all right. We’ll find something soon. There’ll be all the fun of getting it how we want it.” I wanted to shout at him, I don’t want a new house. I want to go to Joel. “Look. Why don’t you get undressed and slip into bed? You’ll find everything different in the morning.”

“Why did Phillida say she saw nothing when she so obviously did?”

“It could have been a trick of the light.”

“That’s nonsense. He was down there. I saw the opera hat and his awful unmistakable hair.”

“Perhaps Phillida couldn’t see as well. The light ...”

It was no use. Mechanically, I undressed and lay down. I wanted to shut out everything ... I longed to be back before that tragic day when my father was killed. I felt an overwhelming need to leave this house which I had begun to dread. I wanted to go back to Celeste tomorrow. I wanted to meet Joel at the Round Pond and talk and talk until we found some solution. I wanted to say: I am coming to you. I cannot live any other life.

There was a knock on the door. It was Phillida. She was carrying a tray on which were two mugs filled with a steaming beverage.

“One for each of you,” she said. “It has been a tiring day.” She set the tray down.

“Sleep well,” she went on; and left us.

I did sleep well. I awoke to find myself alone. I saw that it was nine o’clock and I was amazed, for I usually awoke at seven.

I got out of bed and went to the leaded window. I looked down. I saw nothing but the moor stretching out before me. It undulated slightly. I saw the boulders and the sun glinted on little rivulets, making them shine like silver. It was beautiful in a wild way.