Vanishing Point

And then Lydia was back again, standing in front of her and holding out a tumbler.

“Now, Lucy, drink this. And then we’ll get your clothes off and you can go to sleep.”

Miss Silver pushed the door an inch or two wider. Lucy Cu

“Come now-drink it up!”

Lucy gave a last tired sob and said,

“I don’t-want it, Lydia. Now you’ve come-I shall sleep.”

The tone of authority became harsher.

“You will drink it at once and no nonsense about it! What you need is a good long rest!”

Lucy Cu

Miss Silver gave a slight arresting cough and said,

“I think it is extremely wise of you to resist a sedative, Miss Cu

Lydia Crewe turned stiffly round. She had had one shock already. She had surmounted it. Now there was this. In a moment she would be able to think, to plan, to know what she must do. Just now, in this instant of time, she could only stand there and stare.

With a purely instinctive movement Lucy Cu

“What-do-you-want?”

Miss Silver did not appear to be impressed. She said in her usual composed ma

“I want you to go home, Miss Crewe. I believe that you had better do so. Miss Cu

Lydia Crewe made a great effort. She controlled the rage that shook her. She controlled her voice to say,

“I found she had dissolved some tablets for a sleeping-draught-they are some she had by her. I was just waiting to see her take them and help her to bed.”

And what must Lucy say, the babbling fool, but “ Lydia, I’ve never had any sleeping-tablets. I don’t like them-I don’t need them. It was you-”

There was a silence. Lydia Crewe gathered her remaining forces. She said,

“Very well, I’ll go. Since you don’t need that draught, we can throw it away.” Then suddenly, sharply, “What have you done with it?… Ah!”

She had not turned in time. Miss Silver had moved between her and the bedside table, and at that her control broke. She made a dreadful sound and reached for Miss Silver’s throat.

Lucy Cu

CHAPTER 41

Rosamond lay dreaming. She walked in a spring garden with Craig. The dark wood was a thing of the past, she didn’t seem to remember it any more. This was a spring garden. There were apple trees rosy with bloom, there was cherry blossom. The path where they walked was set on either side with daffodils and coloured primroses. There was a blue sky over head, and the sun shone. She woke to darkness and a voice that called her name.

“Rosamond! Wake up!”

It was Craig’s voice. The sweetness of the dream was still round her. She sat up beside Je

“What is it?”

“It’s Craig. Come over here to the window. I want to speak to you.”

They kissed with the bars between them. He held her.

“Darling, I hate to wake you like this, but we’ve got to push the time on a bit.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you afterwards. Look here, it’s nearly six o’clock. I want you to wake Je

“There ought to be. But, Craig-”

“My sweet, there’s no time for any buts-you’ve just got to do what I say! Put on your dressing-gown and let me in, and I’ll wrestle up some food while you get packed.”

She did what she was told. It might have been part of the dream-darker than the one from which she had come and full of questioning thoughts. They did not pass her lips. There was a sense of urgency, of fear. If Lydia Crewe should wake-she shrank appalled at the threat of what scene would follow and of what the bitter tongue might say. The thoughts came and went. There was no time to dwell on them. The sense of urgency persisted. It was in Craig’s clasp and kiss when the garden door swung open to let him in. It was in the quiet haste with which he sent her back to dress as soon as she had shown him the way to the kitchen.

Je

Je

“Darling, it’s the middle of the night. Where have you been?”

Rosamond said soberly,

“It’s after six. Craig wants us to come with him now. Hurry up and get dressed! He’s making tea in the kitchen.”

Je

“Ooh! Lovely! We mustn’t make any noise, must we? Suppose she heard us and came along snorting out fire and forbidding the bans!”

Rosamond was stepping into her clothes. She said briefly,

“We should go all the same-she couldn’t stop us. But hurry!”

As they turned from the side passage which served their room and Lydia Crewe’s, Je

“What do you say when you are going away from a place you hate with all your might? It can’t be ‘Good-bye’ because that means ‘Good be with you,’ and it can’t be ‘Farewell.’ It had better be ‘Horrid, horrible place, I hope I shall never, never, NEVER see you again!’ ” She caught at Rosamond’s arm. “Run, before it comes after us and pulls us back!”

Rosamond could feel that the hand was shaking. She steadied her own voice to say,

“I can’t run with two suit-cases. And there’s no need-no one will come after us.”

It was whilst she was saying it that she could feel for the first time that it was true. They crossed the hall. She had left one light burning there. It did very little with the darkness except to show how the shadows clung about the stairway, and how black was the upper landing and the mouth of every passage. Somewhere in the gloom above their heads the ancestral portraits watched them go. It was a relief to pass the baize door at the back of the hall and find bright lights beyond. Craig seemed to have switched on everything as he came to it.