Will You Love Me in September

It was a few days later when I took my usual walk in the woods. My favorite spot was a little clearing among the trees. There was an old oak there under which I liked to sit. From there I could just glimpse the dene hole between the trees. I would sit there and wonder about it and imagine for what it had been used in prehistoric days. I would dream, too, of my baby, who had now become alive to me. I could feel its movements and I longed above everything to hold it in my arms.

I knew that to have a child of my own would be the greatest happiness I could hope for.

There was something strange about that afternoon. Was it a premonition? I wondered afterwards; but from the moment I had entered the woods I had been aware of something ... I was not sure what. It was a certain uneasiness. I had felt it before ... in Enderby particularly ... as though I were being watched, that I was menaced in some way. The servants had said it was the ghost in Enderby, but were there ghosts in the woods?

Little sounds made me start: a crackle in the undergrowth, the displacement of a stone, a sudden rustling. It was probably a squirrel getting his hoard ready for the winter; perhaps a rabbit or a weasel or a stoat scuttling through the foliage; the breeze making moaning sounds as it moved among the branches of the trees. They were the natural sounds of the wood, which, but for the unusual nature of my mood, would have gone unnoticed.

When I came to the clearing the strangeness passed and peace descended upon me. I sat there under the oak, thinking of my baby. This time next year you'll be here, my little one, I thought. And how I longed for the waiting to be over.

And then ... there it was again. I was not alone. I knew it.

I turned my head sharply. I thought I saw a dark shadow darting among the trees ... scarcely a human being ... a shape.

I sat very still, peering into the wood. I could see nothing.

I had imagined it, of course. I turned away. And then . there it was again ... the sound of a footfall, the eerie certainty that something was menacing me ... something evil.

I must get back to the house. To do so I had to go through the woods, and suddenly I was afraid of what might be lurking there. There was no other way, though. It was absurd to be afraid of those familiar trees which I loved.

I had let my imagination run on. Sabrina, I thought, you are responsible for this!

I was getting a little cumbersome and not able to get nimbly to my feet, and as I attempted to do so, there was a movement from behind. I turned. Something struck me on the back of my head. I had fallen to the ground. I was not sure what happened then. I think I must have lost consciousness for a moment or so before a terrible realization came sweeping over me that Sabrina had been right. Someone wanted me out of the way, and here I was in the woods, alone and helpless.

It could only have been for a few seconds that I had lost consciousness. I was aware now that I was being dragged across the grass. I could smell the scent of earth; the grass brushed my hands. I had returned from blankness to horror and a fearful understanding of what was happening to me.

I was being dragged toward the dene hole.

I could not see who my assailant was. It appeared to be a dark-cloaked figure . .

. man or woman. I was not sure. I was lying facedown on the ground and I could not see who was looming over me. I could feel my head beginning to throb and I knew that death was staring me in the face.

Sabrina ... oh, Sabrina ... I was thinking. You were right after all.

I had stepped into a nightmare. I was going to be taken to the dark pit, and then ... I should disappear.

Suddenly I heard a voice! "Clarissa! Clarissa!”

Everything seemed to stand still - time itself. But the voice I heard was that of Sabrina. I thought I must be dreaming. It was the last moments of consciousness before death took me, and it was significant that it should be Sabrina of whom I was think- Sudden silence. What had happened? I knew I was still above the earth - vaguely I could see the light, I could smell and feel the grass beneath me.

I tried to rise. I heard Sabrina's voice again. "Stop. Stop. What are you doing to Clarissa?”

Then she was close to me, kneeling over me. I could see her face hazily through the mists which seemed to be settling over my eyes.

"Clarissa ... oh, dear, dear Clarissa. Are you all right? You're not dead, are you?”

"Sabrina!”

"Yes, I came. Buttermilk was in a bad mood today. He wouldn't jump. Job said, 'Leave him. He's touchy today.' So I did, and I came here to find you ... and talk. Then I heard you call out, and I saw ... I saw ...”

"What did you see?" I was fighting the desire to slip back into unconsciousness.

"Sabrina ... Sabrina-what did you see?”

"Someone ... was pulling you across the grass.”

"Who was it? Who?”

I was waiting for her to tell me. It seemed like a very long pause. I was praying, I think. O God, let it not have been Lance.