” I am Catherine,” I reminded her.
“Catherine,” she said, “I have been happy looking on See, I have this gallery … this tapestry gallery … and when I am dead people will look at it and they will know more of what happened to us than they can know from the picture gallery. I am glad I did my tapestry pictures instead of portraits. Portraits have little to tell.”
I walked round that room and I saw scenes from the life of Kirkland Revels I saw Ruth’s husband being carried on a stretcher from the hunting field, and the mourners about his bed. I saw the death of Mark, and in between each of these scenes was a picture of the house and those recognisable figures gazing at it.
I said: ” I believe that is Simon Redvers, among those who look at the house.”
She nodded. ” Simon looks at the house because it could be his one day. If Luke were to die as Gabriel died, then the Revels would be Simon’s. So you see he is looking at the house too.”
She was studying me intently and from the pocket of her gown she took a small note-book; and while I watched she sketched a figure. She managed to suggest myself by a few deft strokes of her pencil.
” You are very clever,” I said.
She looked at me sharply and asked: ” How did Gabriel die?”
I was startled. ” They said at the inquest …” I began.
” You said he did not kill himself.”
” I said I did not believe he could have done it.”
“Then how did he die?”
” I do not know. I only sense within me that he could not have done it.”
” I sense things within me. You must tell me. We must discover. I must know for my picture.”
I looked at the watch pinned to my blouse. It was a gesture which meant that I must be going.
” I shall soon have finished the one I am working on. Then I shall want to start it. You must tell me.”
” What are you working on now?” ” Look,” she said, and she drew me across the room to the window.
There on a frame was the familiar picture of the house.
” You have done that one before.”
” No,” she said, ” this is different. There is no Gabriel to look at the house now. Only Matthew, Ruth, Hagar, myself, Luke, Simon …”
I felt stifled suddenly by the room and the effort of trying to catch at her innuendoes. She was indeed a strange woman, for she managed to give the impression of innocence and wisdom . almost simultaneously.
I had had enough of symbols. I wanted to get to my room and rest.
” I lost my way. Tell me how I can get back to the south wing.” ” I will show you.” She was like an eager child trotting at my side, as she opened the door and we went into the corridor.
I followed her and when she opened another door I went through in her wake to find myself on a balcony similar to that of the tragedy.
” The east balcony,” she said. ” I thought you would like to see it.
It is now the only one over which no one has fallen to death. “
There was a strange curve on her lips which might have been a smile.
” Look over,” she said. ” Look over. See how far down it is.”
She shivered. And I felt her little agile body pressing me against the parapet. For a horrible moment I thought she was trying to force me over.
Then she said suddenly: ” You don’t believe he killed himself. You don’t believe it.”
I drew away from the parapet and moved towards the door. I felt relieved to step into the corridor.
She went on ahead of me and in a short time she had led me to the south wing.
She had now become like an old woman again and I imagined that the change came when she left the east for the south wing.
She insisted on accompanying me to my own rooms even though I told her I now knew the way.
At. the threshold of my room I thanked her and told her how I had enjoyed seeing the tapestries. Her face lighted up; then she put her fingers to her lips.
” We must find out,” she said. ” Don’t forget. There’s the picture to do.”
Then she smiled conspiratorially and went quietly away.
It was a few days later when I made my decision.
I was still using the rooms in which I had lived with Gabriel and I found little peace in them. I was sleeping badly-something that had never happened to me before; I would fall asleep as soon as I went to bed but in a few minutes I would awake startled as though someone was calling me. On the first few occasions I thought that this was indeed so and got out of bed to see who was outside my door. After a few times I was convinced that it was some sort of nightmare. I would doze and be startled again; and so it went on until the early hours of the morning when I would be so exhausted that I actually slept.
It was always the same dream—someone calling my name.
Sometimes it seemed to be Gabriel’s voice calling Catherine. At others it was the voice of my father calling Cathy. I knew I had been dreaming and that this was due to the shock I had suffered.
Outwardly I could seem calm enough, but inwardly I was beset by misgivings. Not only had I lost my husband but, if I had to accept the verdict that he had killed himself, I could only think that I had never really known him.
If only Friday had been with me I could have been happier. They were the two I had loved, and to have lost them both together was a double tragedy.
There was no one at the house with whom I could make a real friendship.
Each day I asked myself: Why do you stay here? And the answer was:
Where would you go if you left?
I was wandering among the Abbey ruins one golden after noon calling Friday as I did now and then, when I was startled by the unmistakable sound of footsteps.
Even in daylight I could be overawed by the place and it says a great deal for the state of my nerves that I should not have been entirely surprised to see the figure of a black-robed monk emerge from the cloister.
Instead I saw the contemporary and sturdy figure of Simon Redvers.
” So you still hope to find your dog,” he said, as he came towards me.
” Don’t you think that if he were here he would lose no time in coming home?”
” I suppose so. It was rather foolish of me.” He looked surprised to hear me admit my folly, I sup posed. He had an idea that I was a very self-opinionated young woman.
” Strange …” he mused, ” that he should have disappeared the day before …” I nodded.
” What do you think happened to him?” he asked.
“He was either lost or stolen. Nothing else would have kept him away.”
” Why do you come here looking for him?” I was silent for a while, because I was not entirely sure why I did. Then I remembered the occasion when I had met Dr. Smith here, and how he had told me that I should not bring Friday to the ruins unless I did so on a lead. I mentioned this to Simon.
“He was thinking of the well,” I added.
“In fact, he said Friday was in danger of toppling over. He stopped him in time. That was when I first met Dr. Smith. It was one of the first places I went to when I was looking for Friday.”
” I should have thought the fish-ponds might have been more dangerous.
Have you seen them? They are worth a visit. “
” I think every part of these ruins is worth a visit.”
“They interest you, do they not?”
” Would they not interest anyone?”
” Indeed not. They are so much a part of the past. So many people have no interest in the past … only in the present, or in the future.”
I was silent and after a while he went on: “I congratulate you on your serenity, Mrs. Catherine. So many women in your position would have been hysterical; but then I suppose with you it was different….”
” Different?”
He smiled at me and I was aware that there was no real warmth in that smile.