‘Water,’ repeated Paula dreamily. ‘Water whose presence can’t be explained in two specific places: on a carpet and in a large glass. But was it really water?’
Harris, amused by his sister-in-law’s interest, shrugged off the question. Paula returned to the attack.
‘Another thing: just now you spoke of an evil spirit hiding in the shadows and the possible existence of an actual ghost.’
‘My goodness!’ exclaimed Harris with a broad smile. ‘My dear Paula, you and Brian make quite a pair. You both believe in ghosts.’
‘But so do you, by your own words.’
‘Yes, but I was speaking on behalf of my brother who, as you saw, is convinced that that room is haunted. I also suspect that he believes great-uncle Harvey isn’t altogether dead. He’s often told me he senses his presence….’
‘There’s an easy way to find out,’ retorted Paula.
‘And what would that be?’ asked Harris, his eyes narrowed.
‘Why, open up his coffin. It must be buried there under the chapel.’
Francis drew in a sharp breath, Mrs. Hilton sat bolt upright and Harris’s deafening laugh shattered the silence of the rest of the audience.
‘Well, why not, if that’s what you want,’ he spluttered. ‘But we’d have a death on our conscience: Brian would never survive. My God, what an evening!’
Out of the corner of her eye, Paula noted the furious look from her husband and the reproachful one from her mother-in-law, but pressed on regardless.
‘And what happened to the manuscripts?’
Harris lit a cigar and drew deeply on it before replying:
‘According to my mother, they were all destroyed immediately after Harvey’s death, although she couldn’t be absolutely certain. Brian believes there must be at least one in existence.’ He raised his eyes to look at the ceiling. ‘His theory is that no one would ever destroy the entirety of a work of such genius. Because, to Brian, that’s what our great-uncle was, a genius, a truly exceptional being, the greatest seer of his century. He insists that each of the manuscripts described an episode in the history of the Thorne family, but in the future!’
‘I assume,’ said Paula disappointedly, ‘that you’ve looked everywhere in vain.’
Harris nodded grimly.
‘Darling!’ exclaimed Sarah. ‘Guess who I saw coming down here. Dr. Mike Meadows and… a young woman who’s his fiancée.’
‘Don’t you remember her name?’ asked Harris absently.
‘No… although she did tell me.’
‘Bessie Blount,’ he said, stressing each syllable separately. ‘Strange that you couldn’t recall her name, whereas that of the handsome doctor tripped daintily off your lips… Well, so what?’ he added brutally.
Sarah’s eyes flashed with anger as she replied: ‘They told me about Brian’s gift. He predicted they would fall in love just the day before they fell into each others’ arms.’
‘If you keep issuing predictions non-stop, sooner or later one of them will turn out to be accurate. But there’s another explanation: that skirt-chaser Meadows took advantage of the situation to get little Miss Blount into his clutches. I can well imagine him, with his mousquetaire’s moustache, saying: “Darling, we must love each other. It’s written in the stars….”’
Several pairs of eyes were looking at the stars that night. Not to see what was written there, and probably not even seeing them, but simply because certain people couldn’t get to sleep.
‘Paula, when are you going to learn to behave in polite society?’
‘What did I do now?’
‘What did you do? Don’t you even realise?’
‘I’m listening, Francis, I’m listening. Tell me what I did wrong.’
‘Darling, you exhibited a morbid interest in that… sinister story. When you suggested visiting the crypt to… I thought my mother was going to faint.’
‘So nobody’s allowed to make jokes any more. We’re not in Queen Victoria’s time now. I am who I am. And I’m beginning to ask myself whether you truly love me as much as you say….’
‘I love you more than anything else in the world, my darling. How could you doubt that?’
‘What do I find so special about Dr. Meadows? Nothing at all. Unless it’s that he seems a bit young to be a doctor.’
‘I note nevertheless that you were able to remember his name quite clearly, but you couldn’t do the same for his fiancée, more pity to her.’
‘Harris, when will you stop these stupid scenes of jealousy? You see a rival in every man I speak to. I was flattered at first, but now it’s become intolerable. Do you understand: intolerable.’
‘And I’m not going to stand for being ridiculed in public, is that clear?’
‘Ridiculed in public? Good grief, the things I have to listen to… Don’t you think you went a bit too far tonight?’
‘Forgive me, Sarah, I… it’s in my nature to get carried away. If there hadn’t been that detail of remembering one name and not the other….’
‘What are you afraid of? You’re holding me prisoner in your own castle!’
‘Frankly, my dear, I’m beginning to wonder whether we did the right thing by moving in here.’
‘And I’m beginning to wonder if Francis did the right thing by marrying that girl. I’m not holding my tongue any more. She went too far tonight. I’ve never seen such cheek in my life. She seemed to revel in the details of that tragic business….’
‘Dorothy, you’re being too hard on Paula. She’s a good-natured young woman who likes a bit of fun….’
‘Likes a bit of fun. That’s just it! You have to know when to do it. One thing’s for sure: Francis disappointed me enormously by picking her.’
‘If I had to compare Harris to an animal….’
‘Howard, don’t try to change the subject. We were talking about Paula and her complete lack of….’
‘… it would be a bear. Yes, a bear. I’m not saying he’s always in a bad mood — far from it, he’s always laughing — but he nevertheless makes me think of a bear. Maybe it’s his physique, which is on the heavy side.’
‘You’ve never liked him. Why don’t you just say so?’
‘What do you mean? Bears are quite nice creatures, don’t you think?’
Brian couldn’t sleep either and watched the stars through leadlight windows, a fascinating spectacle which he never tired of watching, although usually not so late at night. And without seething emotions, as was the case that night. His brother’s strident voice had reached his ears when he had come down to the library to look for a work and had been about to go back upstairs. What he had heard had hardly astonished him, after all he’d known Harris’s opinion on the subject for a long time.
The two brothers had always had a curious relationship. Despite diametrically opposite characters and ideas, there had always been a respect and a sort of affection for one another, which assured that their fierce discussions never ended in bitterness and quarrel.
Even so, overhearing the tale Harris was telling had made him upset. Returning to his room, he had become aware of a tightness in his throat which he initially attributed to anger with his brother. It was only later that he realised his unease had a different origin. The words pronounced by Harris came back to him: “… there at the centre of the table was a sort of large glass full to the brim with water!”
Three hours had gone by since then, during which he’d thought ceaselessly about that large glass of water, the mysterious glass of water which had haunted him for so many years, ever since his mother had told him the story of his great-uncle. And he’d never discovered the slightest explanation. But now, he felt certain he’d heard speak of it… somewhere, but where? He knew from experience that any concentrated attempt to rack his brains would end in failure.