The Madman's Room

Even though she was in the grip of a mixture of anxiety and excitement, she managed to declare in a calm voice:

‘No, I don’t see….’

* * *

At half past two, a door opened on the upper floor of Hatton Manor. A head appeared to take a precautionary look at the corridor and “White Camellia” tiptoed out of her room towards the wing of the manor, descended the spiral staircase leading to the service door, and waited a moment to listen to the voices of Ariane Minden and Cathy coming from the kitchen. Closing the door behind her, Paula told herself she was stupid to draw attention to herself by acting furtively.

She reached the western perimeter of the property and climbed over the railings, which she then followed to the front gate. There, she concealed herself behind a tree and waited in the undergrowth which was an excellent observation post. She had no doubt that this was “the entrance to the fortress” specified in Patrick’s letter, the fortress in question being Hatton Manor. It would have been easier to walk down the drive, but that was visible from the salon and, more importantly, from Mr. and Mrs. Hilton’s room, which was in all probability where they were currently. With a mother-in-law as suspicious as hers, it wasn’t worth taking any risks, particularly since she’d read the letter and would be on the lookout.

She had just checked her clothes — she was wearing a simple cotton dress which suited her to perfection — when she felt a pair of hands covering her eyes.

‘Blue Reed?’ she asked laughingly.

The hands went down to her waist and she turned to face Patrick, who said, simply:

‘Hello, White Camellia.’

There was a silence and then….

This time, the malevolent influence of the moon could not be responsible for the passionate kiss they exchanged. After which, deeming their present position to be insufficiently discreet, they went farther into the woods.

‘You’re completely crazy to come here, Patrick. We swore never to see each other again.’

Lighting a cigarette, Patrick went over in his mind the day in February when he’d gone to London to see Paula again. He’d waited close to her home for Francis to leave, then slipped in to see the girl who had haunted his dreams since she’d left Padstow. They’d spent an afternoon together that he would never forget, which had made their separation even more cruel.

‘I know, but one can’t always help oneself. I tried hard, but I couldn’t resist.’

‘You could at least have announced your presence more discreetly. It was my mother-in-law who opened the letter!’

‘What should I have done? Written your name on the envelope?’

Paula didn’t reply.

‘There you are! … Anyway, let’s forget about it.’

‘And the question of life and death?’

‘I was talking about me,’ he confessed with a shy smile. ‘I had to see you. It was vital for me.’

Paula leant back against a tree and shook her hair, which spread in silky waves over her shoulders.

‘If I understand things correctly, my friend, you’re still in love with me?’

‘Yes, although it’s a rather special kind of love.’

‘I should hope so, because it’s an impossible love, as you well know.’

‘An impossible love,’ repeated Patrick, looking unseeingly into the distance. ‘Maybe it’s that very impossibility which….’ He bent down to pick up a twig which he examined at length before going on: ‘When I saw your train leave the station almost a year ago, I had a strange, hollow feeling inside. It was only several days later that it dawned on me I would never see you again. You had been part of my universe, of my life… Since that day, everything has become grey. Even the sun. I’ve thought about it, I’ve spent entire nights asking myself why I missed you so much… and why I’d been so blind all those years when you’d been by my side and so close to me, yet I’d never seen you.’

Patrick looked up and saw tears in the beautiful eyes watching him.

‘But that’s not all,’ he continued. ‘I thought about all the advice I’d given you — and which I thoroughly believed in at the time — about your future husband. And that was the worst thing of all… As if I’d announced my own death sentence. Because I have the strong impression that, without my insistence, you would never have married him, am I right?’

‘That’s quite correct,’ she replied in a firm voice.

Once again they found themselves in each other’s arms.

‘We mustn’t see each other any more,’ murmured Paula, pressing herself closer to him. ‘It’s not good… for me, nor for you. But… I’m glad you’re here. There are some very bizarre goings-on.’

‘Bizarre? To do with Francis?’ asked Patrick, holding his companion at arms’ length.

Paula shook her head and proceeded to recount everything that had happened since she’d moved into Hatton Manor.

‘What an extraordinary story!’ exclaimed Patrick after a few moments. ‘Making prophecies is one thing, but seeing them come true is something else again… Everything points to Harvey having been a seer and having transferred his gifts to that strange Brian.’

Paula watched Patrick in amusement.