811- Although he doesn't know it yet, Quentin's attempt to save his baby girl will determine whether or not Chris Jennings' family will survive in the future.
Thunder rolls as Quentin and Magda stand rooted to the spot, staring at Jenny's ghost.
Magda is thrilled to see her sister. Quentin starts to move toward her, but Magda stops him, asking Jenny, "Have you come to save the child?" I will save you, Jenny promises her darling daughter--or take you with me. You can't allow Lenore to die, Quentin tells his former wife. Jenny tells the child, "They are willing to let you die, just as they let me die." She's your child, Quentin reminds her. Jenny lifts Aristede's medallion--why did they allow that evil thing to be placed on my daughter? We were desperate, Quentin says defensively. We didn't know what to do, adds Magda--you must save the baby, Jenny. Jenny lifts the child from the cradle and sings to it, the same song she used to sing in her mad days, promising her daughter "all the pretty little horses." She hugs the baby--when you wake, she says, you will be healthy and well, and stay that way--I will see to it. Quentin gratefully thanks Jenny, who gets a faraway look on her face. I'm sorry for what happened between us, says Quentin--all would be different if done over again. No, says Jenny, returning the baby to the cradle, not for me--but different for her--there's one way to prove your love, says Jenny, to keep her safe.
What is it? Quentin demands. Keep her safer than you did me and my son were, instructs Jenny--there IS a way--look into your heart and you will know. Jenny fades away. "Look into my heart," repeats Quentin, staring into the cradle at his daughter--she's sleeping peacefully, as if nothing had ever happened--I know what Jenny wants me to do! exults Quentin, smiling.
Trask goes to see Edward in the tower room and asks, do you know who you are? Of course, Mr. Trask!--why shouldn't I know? asks Edward in the clipped tones of the "gentleman's gentleman."--you've been here twice before, and each time well spoken and decent, much nicer than the other gentleman--Quentin--who has visited me--I'm good at names, sometimes the Earl was amazed that I would know 200 people at the party, who they were married to and all pertinent information. Edward fixes the bed as he speaks. You're a treasure, says Trask. I do know my job, says Edward, which is why I'm so heartsick at being locked in here--I don't understand it, I want to get out, must get out! I would if I could, says Trask, but I can't--may I confide in you? His Lordship always did, says Edward. Just as there are people preventing you from taking your rightful place, says Trask, there are those doing the same to me. How dreadful! remarks Edward. I must deal with these people before I can become master of Collinwood, says Trask, and you can help me--here, sign this paper--it will help us get rid of our enemies. Good, says Edward, and starts to read it. Don't read it, insists Trask. I must, says Edward--and it's good I am, because it contains a serious error--it says you are to be my son's legal guardian, which is impossible--I have no son. Just sign it, orders Trask--the facts make no difference, and if you sign it, you will gain your freedom. A son is an investment in the future, says Edward, so the poet says. The paper will help us fight our mutual enemies says Trask. Edward hands the paper back to him, very politely, and says, we will have to find another way. Yes, agrees Trask, we will. Not to worry, says Edward, straightening his coat--often the Earl would get confused, but I'd set him straight, just as I did you--I never told anyone, of course. Beaten, Trask looks annoyed. Edward smiles at him.
Trask is heading upstairs when Magda and Quentin exit the drawing room. The latter tells Trask, I want the nursery opened. Why? asks Trask. That's where my daughter will stay, says Quentin. "Your gypsy offspring," says Trask, infuriating Magda. Don't speak that way, she orders. This is my house, Trask tells her--the door is there. I don't like it, either, says Quentin. The door is in the same place for you, says Trask. You would like that, says Q--would like to get rid of all of us--but you can't--the terms of Grandmother's will give me that right, you can do nothing about it. That's true, admits Trask, but your daughter won't stay--the terms of the will give you a home, but says nothing about your children. You can't keep her out, rages Quentin. Legally, says Trask, I am the master of Collinwood. Quentin grabs his lapels and says, "Well I don't care--she's my daughter and she belongs here--she is a Collins!" Magda watches, tight lipped. Trask tells Q, you used the wrong argument to try to persuade me--I have burden enough with the Collins already here, one more is one too many. What is the RIGHT number of Collinses for you at Collinwood? asks Quentin sarcastically. I'm only trying to help this poor, unfortunate family, says Trask. We don't want your help, says Q, and we haven't dwindled away yet!--there's still enough of us left to defeat you. Defeat me, defeat yourself, says Trask. Quentin smiles--do you really think I'm so stupid I don't know what you're doing? Misguided, wicked, sinful and wild, says Trask, but not stupid. Quentin thanks him--I'm going to see Edward, my brother, he says. Cain and Abel were brothers, too, says Trask. I know Edward and I haven't acted much like brothers before, but I bet even Cain and Abel would have behaved better toward each other with a common enemy to fight. Laughing, Quentin runs upstairs. I saw Judith at the sanitarium, Trask tells Magda--she thinks she's a child again, but misses her brothers--soon, Edward will be there to keep her company, says Trask, smiling.
Quentin finds Edward brushing down his jacket when he gets to the tower room. We must get Trask out of the house, says Q--do you understand? I do, replies Edward--you find living with Mr. Trask inconvenient? It's not me, it's all of us, says Quentin--Trask is bent on destroying Judith, me and you--and your son! Puzzled, Edward says, everyone is making the same mistake-- Trask asked me to sign a paper making him my son's legal guardian--I didn't sign it--I have no son. "Listen to me!" begs Quentin desperately. I'm listening, says Edward. It will take every bit of guile, cunning and sanity to defeat Trask, do you realize that? asks Q. Edward looks at him, confused. Quentin realizes his brother doesn't "get" anything. Edward looks very proper and wounded at this.
Trask enters the tower room. Edward is in bed. Trask shakes him, asks, were you sleeping? No, I wasn't able to sleep, says Edward, he upset him too much. Quentin? asks Trask--what did he say to you? A lot of nonsense, says Edward, and then got angry at me when I didn't Understand--I understood him, all right, better than he realized--Edward sits up--I've known gentlemen like that before, they think it's great sport to torment a man who wants nothing more than to serve them--they have all sorts of ways, sometimes they say a hat or coat is missing and demand you find it--when they are the one who has hidden it--all the while, they are laughing cruelly--what he did was the cruelest thing possible--he told me he'd come here to let me out, let me out, mind you, then changed his mind, said he couldn't let me out because I didn't understand this nonsense he was spouting--why am I here?--wow long must I stay? You must stay as long as Quentin says you must, says Trask. (you SOB!) And how long will that be? demands Edward. It depends on how well you do your his job, replies Trask--I'm going to take a great chance and give you a job to do--I hope you can do it. I always try my best, Edward assures him. "I want you to kill Quentin," says Trask.
Edward is shocked. You don't realize the gravity of your situation, says Trask--Quentin is never going to release you, never! This lie infuriates Edward.
Quentin sits listening to his music, a drink at hand, butts in the ashtray. He's sleeping on the sofa in the drawing room. The bottle is mostly empty. Quentin dreams. He hears Jenny singing her lullaby to the baby. He rises from the sofa and goes to her. Jenny looks very pretty. She finishes her song and tells Quentin--she's sleeping peacefully now. She's as beautiful as her mother, says Quentin. Jenny grins, agrees, yes, she is. He joins her. I'm sorry for you, says Jenny, having to give her up. I'm going to take her back to Collinwood, he protests. After she was born, relates, Jenny, they took her away from me--I was mad, but I knew they were taking her away-- knew she must not stay at Collinwood. She belongs here, says Quentin. No, says Jenny, there will be no happiness for anyone at Collinwood, there never has been--there can be none for her. Nothing will happen to her, promises Quentin. A child can't be shut in behind such high walls, insists Jenny. "She's my daughter," protests Quentin--"I love her." Prove your love, demands Jenny--give her up. I can't, he says. Jenny chastises him--you lied to me so many times, now you're lying to me again. I never lied to you, he says. "You said you'd do anything, anything to keep her safe," Jenny reminds him. And I will, he promises.
Only one way to keep her safe--give her up, let her go, advises Jenny--do not lock her behind prison walls, gypsies die in prison, let her go! Quentin begs Jenny, don't leave her alone. Jenny's parting shot to him is, "Leave HER alone! Give her up. Prove your love and give her up!" Jenny disappears. Quentin calls to her--I don't know what to do! Edward appears and says, one must always do the right thing--it takes the right person to do the right things, says Edward--when the wrong person does the right thing, it's wrong. He helps Quentin on with his suit jacket, asking, do you follow me? Something is the matter, says Edward--it's almost dinnertime and you aren't dressed. I only care about my daughter, says Quentin. She isn't the right kind of daughter, says Edward--don't waste time thinking of her, not when it's so late, almost dinnertime. . . handsome, he praises Quentin; I've taken the liberty of choosing your tie, which I thought a long time about. He loops the tie around Quentin's neck--I wanted you to look just right, says Edward. The tie is too tight, complains Quentin. No, says Edward, I'm doing the job just right. And Quentin, choking, gasps for breath!
Quentin awakens on the sofa to find Edward REALLY choking him, throttling hands encircling his throat.
Quentin fights for air.
NOTES: How sad, to realize that your own child is better off away from you, away from the place you've called home. Jenny is right in the dream, however, who has ever been happy at Collinwood, past or present? Giving up Lenore will truly be a sacrifice--assuming Quentin lives to make it. Will he have the strength to do the right thing? How touching that Jenny returns, not mad in the afterlife, to save her daughter and give Quentin the best possible parenting tip. Superb performances all around, especially Selby and Edmonds. Wallace and Lacy were no slouches, either. The look of anguished dismay on Edward's face when Quentin realizes he can't help him thwart Trask is both amusing and touching.
Quentin was pretty rough with Charity in that earlier ep, but it was necessary, to preserve his life. Barnabas was equally protective of his secret and threatened to kill anyone who either learned it or seemed close. It must have just about killed her to have to see that confession and know she had to make a deal which, to her, seemed a deal with Satan himself. Poor Charity! She sure is learning her truths in rapid succession, isn't she?
As for Trask, he just gets worse and worse, although Edward thwarted even him when he refused to simple sign the paper. Well-written eps all around, very well acted--but I miss Barnabas!
812 - Quentin moans, twisting his head back and forth on the sofa, then finds Edward strangling him--and apologizing for doing so!--I must make sure you never treat me that way again! cries Edward
Quentin begs his brother, let me go! No, insists Edward, you'll only put me away again. "You're mad!" cries Quentin as Edward continues to choke him. "Goodbye, Mr. Quentin!" cries Edward. Nora enters and screams, forcing Edward to release Quentin. "Father please don't hurt him!" begs the little girl. Why are you calling me your father? Asks Edward. Because you are, she says, upset. I have no children, no family, he says. Trask enters, demanding to know what's going on. They were fighting, says Nora. Trask orders her up to her room--I will handle this. No, says Q, I'll speak to Nora, you are to "take care" of Edward. Come along, Trask tells Edward. "Certainly sir," says the latter. Left alone with Nora, Quentin rubs his throat. Out in the foyer, Trask tells Edward, I really made a mess of things--why did I do it in the drawing room; I'm lucky it was only the child. Ashamed, Edward asks why she insisted on calling him her father. I don't know, says Trask--you must go back to the tower room. But I don't want to, bleats Edward, I have to do my job. One of your responsibilities is complete obedience, Trask reminds him, to the master of the house, so you will stay in the tower room until I give you another chance. Edward agrees, and goes upstairs, head bowed in shame.
Why was Father trying to hurt you? Nora asks Uncle Quentin. He didn't know what he was doing, says Q, but it's difficult to explain. But I want to know, says Nora--Father scared me, the way he was behaving. Q asks Nora, did you ever read a story in which a person had a magic spell put on him? Yes, she says. In a way, that's what's happened to your father, he says--he'll be all right in a few days, when the spell ends. What if it doesn't? asks Nora. I'll make sure it does, says Q, kissing her cheek before sending her off to bed--everything will be all right--leave it to me. She goes off to bed, feeling better. Quentin tells himself there's only one way to end this madness--I have to find Tim Shaw and the hand. He looks into the fireplace.
Collinsport Inn - We see suitcases piled on the floor. In walks a very elegantly dressed Tim Shaw. He opens the box containing the hand, which sits on top, and takes it out. The phone rings. He answers--have her wait five minutes, he says, then send her up. He opens the box, takes out the hand and smiles, then drops it into a box and wraps it with cloth, tying it up with string.
Having neatly tied up the hand to look like a present, Tim answers a knock at the door. A pretty woman, dressed to the nines, asks petulantly, why was I forced to wait five minutes in the lobby before coming up? You can ask anything you like, he says--I was busy doing something. You have more secrets than any man I've ever known, she mock-complains. He kisses her; she smiles at him. Do you say that as a comment on me or a boast about yourself? he inquires. (Ah, has she known many men?) She chuckles. Just a fact, she says. But you have known many, many men, he says. Don't forget our agreement, she says--the past, beyond two weeks ago, is a closed book, no questions asked--what about now?--how long will we be in this dreary town?
If you're bored by our little game, he says, you can return to New York--there's a train leaving in an hour, he says. "All right, I'll stay," she says. Don't sound so sad, he says, the last two weeks have been very profitable, haven't they (does he pay her for services rendered?)--new, expensive clothes, fur, jewelry, that's what you wanted, right? He provocatively touches her chin. Yes, she agrees. It's not as if your services are coming to me cheaply, he says, you're being paid quite well. I know, she says. And I think you will be worth every single penny of it, he says. What are you planning to do to this man? she asks--I'm not being curious, just concerned about you. Oh, he says, we wouldn't want to lose the meal ticket, would we? Have you always been that cynical? She asks. Cynical isn't the word, says Tim, I think the more appropriate word would be practical--we have a very practical relationship, and I want to keep it that way. He kisses her---you know what you must do? Yes, she says. One more thing, adds Tim, hide this (he hands her the box), in your room. What's in it? she asks. He won't answer. I'll hide it in my room, she agrees. Come back ASAP, says Tim, I'll be waiting for you. I will see you in about two hours, she says. After she leaves, Tim says, "Well, well, Reverend Trask, I shall be meeting you on the back road to salvation."
Trask closes the double doors at Collinwood and surveys the woman we saw in Tim's room. "Now then, Miss Harris," he says, what's this all about?" Wringing a handkerchief in her hands, she begs, forgive me for disturbing you so late at night, but if I hadn't come to see me, I'd have killed myself. He helps her to sit down in the love seat. What's wrong? He asks. I arrived in Collinsport from New York yesterday, she says. Do you have relatives? He asks. I'm alone in the world, she says--I was running from a man I could never resist--I learned in the village that you have a reputation as a good, devout person. I've learned that faith can be the answer to most human miseries, says Trask. I've done so many things I'm ashamed of, she says. "My dear young lady..." begins Trask. I don't deserve to be called a lady, she assures him, not the way I've lived. (Do I hear a rustling down in Trask's drawers?) No sinner is completely beyond salvation, says Trask, faith produces miracles--I know it--is the man you're running form your husband? I don't consider myself fit to be married, she says. Don't be so harsh on yourself, he counsels--who is the man? His name wouldn't mean anything to you, she says, but he was cruel, degrading, a man who controls people, very strong, not just physically, but mentally, it's easy for him to impose his will on others--I couldn't bear it any longer and ran away from him, but now I fear he'll come after me. Does he know where you are? asks Trask. He has unbelievable ways of dining things out, says Miss Harris--there's something so unnatural about him. This man sounds like a disciple of the devil, says Trask. I think so, too, says Miss Harris, beginning to sob--I wish I knew what to do!--I can't keep running all my life! She begins to cry. You won't have yo, he assures her. You mean you can help me? she asks. If you are willing to help yourself, he says sagely. Oh, Reverend Trask, I'm ready, she says--I'll do anything he asks of her.
Trask gets a horny gleam in his eye--it will not be easy, of course, he cautions--I intend to give you "private" instruction, which will take time. My time is all yours, says Miss Harris. He wastes no time putting his hand on her shoulder--we can begin now, he says, by praying. He pushes her to her knees and kneels beside her. Both pray.
Quentin walks in on this prayer session and asks Trask to introduce him. Trask does so. Quentin smiles at the pretty young woman. Our first period of instruction will begin tomorrow, says Trask, where are you staying? At the Collinsport Inn, she says. You will hear from me, says Trask, and leads Miss Harris to the door. I'm so grateful to you, she says, and bids Quentin good night. Chuckling, Quentin says, I never knew your business kept you up so late, but of course when business is as attractive as she is--but I'm sure that wasn't even a consideration, since you're just a humble soul saver.
I see no reason to discuss this with you, says Trask--excuse me. "You mean I'm going to have to find out about the young lady all by myself?" asks Quentin. (Poor Beth--and what of fiancee Angelique?) "Good night, Quentin," says Trask, going upstairs. Quentin looks quite somber as he leaves the house.
Tim, back at the Inn, claps his hands together, delighted. Splendid, he declares. He IS despicable, says Miss Harris. But his very days are numbered, predicts Tim. She puts her arms around him, suggesting, now that my "night work" is over, why don't we go out? No, he says, we dare not, we can't be seen on the streets together. She becomes angry--I don't mind leading Trask on or having to endure this whistle stop town, but if you think I'm going to spend my time alone in my room, perhaps I WILL go back to New York! All right, says Tim, I just have to be very careful--we can go for a walk by the docks, but can't stay long. They leave the room.
Quentin enters the lobby of the Collinsport Inn. There is no desk clerk (cheap Dan Curtis). Quentin hears someone coming and hides. Tim, wearing a top hat, leaves with Amanda. Quentin spots them. Hmmmm.
Quentin goes through Tim's trunks, tossing his clothing all over the room (how did he get in?)
Tim and Amanda return to the lobby. I'm not sure I can make it upstairs, she says sarcastically, I'm weak from all the excitement on the Collinsport docks--where are we going tomorrow night, the local cemetery? (hey this is DS, why the hell not?) Quentin surveys the mess he made. Overhearing Tim say, I'm sorry you're bored, but once my plan is accomplished, we'll have more money than we know what to do with. Quentin hastily hides behind the drapes. Tim and Amanda enter and survey the mess. Go to your room, Tim orders her--make sure the box is all right. He checks his cash stash, which appears intact. She brings Tim the box--undisturbed. Obviously they didn't have time to get to your room, he states. What's in the box? She asks. Never mind, we shouldn't have gone out, he barks back--someone saw us, someone who wants what I have, they will be back again, but they'll be disappointed, because they won't find me. Give me your locket, he demands rudely. It's mine, objects Amanda. Tomorrow, I'll give you diamonds, Tim says angrily. He takes the locket. Where are you going? she whines. The contents of that box contain our security for the rest of our lives, says Tim--if we want--without it, nothing--I'm going to see it's put in a safe place. Miss Harris tosses a box to the floor and leans on the desk, annoyed.
Nora goes to bed with her Raggedy Ann doll. Tim Shaw knocks at her door (how did he get into Collinwood?) The child is delighted to see him. He has the box with him. Be quiet, he whispers--don't wake anyone--I'm back, but I'm not sure I will stay--I saw Charity downstairs, who told me it was way past your bedtime, but I came up without permission to see you. I'm glad, she says. We're still very good friends, right? he asks. Yes, she says, you saved my life and I'll never forget that. (Remember the fire at the school.) I was in NY, says Tim, and while there, I bought this (he takes out the necklace)--it's for you, he says, from me, something to remember me by. You've always been so nice to me--thank you, gushes Nora. Will you do me a favor? He asks, and shows her the box. I thought it might be a gift for Jamison, she says. How is Jamison? asks Tim. He's not feeling very well, she says. I'm sorry about that, says Tim--will you hide the box in your room?--I can't tell you why, but I have very good reasons. Sure, she says--is that all you want?
Yes--it must be kept a secret, cautions Tim--no one must know I was up here or that you're taking care of the box for me. She crosses her heart to promise. If you keep it safe, he says, I can always come to see you and get it--it's late, he says, kissing her cheek--good to see you. Smiling, she bids him good night, takes the box and puts it on the floor of her armoire. She is about to go back to bed when she thinks hard, then opens the armoire, takes out the box and begins to open...
NOTES (and possible spoilers): This is the introduction of a character some refer to as "Amanda F(**king) Harris." She is despised by many, and for different reasons. As far as many DS fans are concerned, the only woman for Quentin is the ever-vigilant, always-loving Beth Chavez. That Quentin falls head over heels in love with Amanda, and pretty much at first sight, is simply unacceptable, tantamount to Barnabas' falling in love with the sleeping beauty, Roxanne, instead of turning to his faithful and adoring Julia. Never mind that Quentin has pledged himself to Angelique, she is completely by-the-way, especially to Quentin! This situation will come to a very explosive head, resulting in one of DS; darkest tragedies.
Will Nora open the box and find the hand? Will it harm her or help her? Again, I wonder how Tim managed to control the hand and become quite the man-about-town.
Doncha love the lusty light in Trask's eyes as he looks over his latest lamb? I bet he was picturing her naked from the second she came to see him. What form is Tim's revenge taking, and however did he learn to use the hand to his own advantage? He's rich, expensively-dressed, and apparently paying Amanda well to take his revenge on Trask. How will using Amanda this way bring about the results he wants? We shall see.
Love, Robin
