Vanishing Point

When Rosamond had shut the door she came back to kneel down and listen first to a wordless sobbing, and then to half-stifled words. Some of them were to come back to her afterwards. At the time she could only think of Je

When the sobbing died away Rosamond’s almost inarticulate words of comfort began to take form.

“Je

She made her way to the chest of drawers, came back again, and sat on the bed.

“Here you are. And don’t cry any more, or you won’t be able to listen.”

“I’m not crying-I’m blowing my nose.” Then after an interval, with no more than a catch in her breath, “Where are we going?”

“We are going away with Craig. I’m going to marry him.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow-no, I expect by this time it’s today.”

“I’m coming too?”

“Of course! Oh, Je

Je

“I know, darling. Nobody shall again. Only you mustn’t go out at night-you’ll promise, won’t you?”

“Who said I went out at night?”

“Aunt Lydia saw you. And Craig did too. You mustn’t, darling-it isn’t safe.”

Je

“I don’t want to any more.” Then, with sudden energy, “Rosamond-”

“What is it?”

“Suppose she comes back!”

“Aunt Lydia?”

Je

“Yes-yes! She was out there! She came and looked in and shone a torch!”

“Was that what frightened you! I thought I heard someone in the garden-someone talking. Was that Aunt Lydia?”

“The talking part wasn’t. Rosamond, she shone her torch to see if I was awake. Suppose she comes along the passage and tries the door!”

“Why should she?”

“She might. Let’s go into your room. We can lock this room again and she’ll think I’m here, and we can lock ourselves into yours. And then we’ll run away tomorrow and marry Craig and live happy ever after.”

CHAPTER 39

Lydia Crewe went back to her room and put on all the lights- not only the big chandelier with its many-faceted lustres, but the gilt and crystal sconces on either side of the chimney-breast and between the windows, until every inch of the crowded room sprang into view. The curtains hung across the windows in the dark straight folds, but this was the only darkness which remained. There was no place for shadows under the blaze of those unsparing lights. She sat down in her chair, stiffly upright, rigidly controlled. Her heart still beat more heavily than it should have done. She set her will to steady it. The dark garden was shut away from her by a barrier of walls, a barrier of lights. If it was nerves which had played her a trick, they should learn that she was their mistress. If it was Je

She held her anger in a leash and would not let it go. Je

She came back to Lucy Cu

After that interview with Henry it would be safer to wait, but she couldn’t risk it. And in a way it would be all to the good, because he would be able to say in the most truthful and convincing ma

Well it must be done tonight. More people than Henry would have noticed that Lucy hadn’t been herself all day. When she was found in the morning, it would be just one more case of an elderly woman who couldn’t sleep and had gone beyond the safety line in the matter of a drug. Her mind began to busy itself with the details. Henry and Nicholas must be asleep. Lucy had often complained that nothing woke either of them once they were off. They must have time to be so profoundly asleep that no one would ever know that she had returned to the Dower House. No one except Lucy, and Lucy would not be in a position to tell what she had known. It would have passed with her into the silence from which there is no coming back.

The voice which she had heard in the garden whispered at the edge of consciousness and was refused. The dead could not return. They had no power to harm. You were safe from them. When Lucy was dead she would be safe from her… Time went by.

When at last she rose to her feet she was steady and resolved. Her bedroom lay beyond with a co

She put everything else back, tipped a number of the tablets into the palm of her hand, and contemplated them. They were more than twenty years old-nearer thirty. Old Dr. Lester had prescribed them for her father in his last illness. One, or at the outside two if the pain became severe. On no account more. She wondered if the drug would have kept its strength. She had never heard anything to the contrary, and she would just have to chance it. Better make the dose a stiff one-say ten tablets. She counted them out and put them into a tumbler to dissolve with a little hot water. She would need a small bottle for the liquid. After some deliberation she selected from a cupboard a three-parts empty bottle of ipecacuanha wine, washed it out carefully, and when the tablets were fully dissolved corked them up in it.

She stepped out into the passage, resolved and confident, and enough at her ease to walk back as far as Je