Episode #164 - A new hope has come to Collinwood, a man, skilled in the mysteries that sometimes intrude on this world--he knows these forces are sometimes dark, and often elusive--their disguises are many, and their skills often exceed those of mortal men.
Drawing room, Collinwood - We know that David never saw the painting after it had been finished, outlines Guthrie to Vicki, who is seated on the sofa--but are you sure no one could have mentioned it to him, that he was in the painting, in flames, along with his mother? I don't know who would have, says Vicki, and anyway, I'm sure he would have mentioned it to me at some time or another. If I could only figure out the relationship, muses Guthrie. Between the painting, says Vicki, and David's vision in the Old House? That, says Guthrie, and of course what all of this means to Mrs. Stoddard's condition. I'm sure they're all tied in together, says Vicki. Yes, but there are so many missing links, says Guthrie. If only Mrs. Stoddard could speak! laments Vicki. I don't think that would do much good, he says. She could tell us where she was just before she got sick, says Vicki. But don't forget that she could talk for a while, he says--but she couldn't remember--which means one thing--whoever it was, whatever force or power it was that's doing all this, felt it was very important that Mrs. Stoddard forget where she'd been--which makes it doubly important for us to find out. Maybe she was taking one of her walks around the grounds and met somebody, suggests Vicki. But who? asks Guthrie. I wish I knew, says Vicki--perhaps a stranger. Why does it have to be a stranger? he asks. It wasn't anybody here, says Vicki, not David or Carolyn or Roger or Mrs. Johnson--and Mrs. Collins says she didn't see Mrs. Stoddard all day. (liar!) I know, he says. It frightens me, thinking something is prowling around Collinwood
--and could strike any one of us, says Vicki, at any moment, any moment at all.
I can't let what I don't know frustrate me, says Guthrie, I've got to work with what I do know--David's vision, for instance, the similarity to his dream. And to the painting, adds Vicki. The painting was done by Samuel Evans, right? asks Guthrie. Right, says Vicki--even though he denies it. He denied it? asks Guthrie. What I mean is, he insists that he didn't actually paint those pictures. There were more than one? asks Guthrie? Several--all of them of Mrs. Collins, says Vicki. Surrounded by fire? he asks. Yes, says Vicki. And the boy--was he in any of the others? asks Guthrie. I don't know, says Vicki, but the strange thing is that Sam Evans says he was compelled against his will to do those paintings. What are Mr. Evans' feelings about Mrs. Collins? he asks. I know what you're getting at, says Vicki--you think they're a representation of some hidden anger he has toward Mrs. Collins. Isn't that possible? asks Guthrie. No, I don't think so, says Vicki, I do know they weren't very friendly, though. And you still think he was acting against his will? asks Guthrie. Yes I do, says Vicki, Mr. Evans is not a vicious man. Most of us are capable of a lot of things we would have considered impossible, points out Guthrie, you know, I'd like to meet Mr. Evans and talk to him--he lives in the area, doesn't he? I don't know if that's possible, she says--he hasn't been very well lately--he burned his hands--an accident, I guess. You guess?--you mean you don't know? Guthrie asks. So many things have happened around here, she says--I'm very confused. He laughs. All right, he says, all the more reason I should talk to Mr. Evans--please. I guess so, she says, but do you mind if I ask his daughter first? Why is that necessary? he asks. I don't want to embarrass him or her, says Vicki--it's not you, it's just that when Mr. Evans' work is going badly, he tends to drink, and it might embarrass him if a stranger... Let's take a try at it, says Guthrie--I think Mr. Evans might have something very important to tell me.
Evans cottage - I don't know if I'm going to make it today, Sam tells Maggie--I'm going to try. You did it yesterday, she says, and you can do it again today. A man with nothing to do all day gets terribly thirsty, he says, eying the booze bottle as she spoons sugar into coffee. I know, but that's no way out, she says. I'm not so sure....he begins. Pop! she says warningly. All right, he says, tossing up his bandaged hands--there's no way out. Go for a walk, she suggests. Past the Blue Whale? he asks--I'm not made of iron. Along the beach, she says, or up on the cliffs. No, that would only make it worse, he insists. But you love it up there, she says. Yes, he says, but everywhere I turn, looking out to see, or along the beach, I see a picture--a picture I can't paint! She hands him the cup of coffee. I'm sorry, she says. When are these hands going to heal? he asks desperately--when am I going to be able to paint? Soon, she assures him, sitting on the sofa, a cup of coffee in her lap. Soon was last week! complains Sam--I want to work, I want to paint, and if I can't paint... Pop, take it easy, she says, please. I don't want to take it easy, he fumes--I want to work, to paint, even if it means I have to paint...no, no, if I never paint again--better that than paint something I detest so much. You mean those paintings of Mrs. Collins? asks Maggie. Those were the flames that burned my hands! says Sam.
Pop, you know that's not true, she says. All right, he says, then let's not talk about it, it won't do us any good, you'd better just run along before you're late. He kisses her cheek and assures her he will try to be all right. Good man, Pop, she praises him. She puts on her coat and leaves, but gives him a last look before she does. He holds one injured hand with the other. Good, says Sam, we'll see.
Collinsport Inn restaurant - Please go right over, Maggie encourages Vicki and Guthrie, I'm sure he'd be delighted to see someone interested in his paintings! How's he feeling? asks Vicki. Ready to blow sky high because he can't work, says Maggie--his hands still haven't healed--my father had an accident, he burned his hands, she tells Guthrie. I'm sorry to hear that, he says--I can imagine what that must be for a painter--rather, I can't imagine. He's a little restless to put it mildly, says Maggie, but I'm sure it would help a lot if you went over to see him, Mr. Guthrie. Burke comes in, asking Maggie for coffee. Hi, Burke, she says. Hello, Vicki, Burke says, how are you? Fine, she replies, a little uncomfortable. I was hoping I'd run into you again, says Burke--can I see you for a minute? I'm not sure, she says, and introduces "Mr. Guthrie" to Burke. They shake hands. I don't want to bust up anything, says Burke, but if you could just give me a few seconds... I can go along by myself, says the doctor to Vicki--you showed me where to turn off. I can take you anywhere you want to go, if it's a question of a lift, says Burke. I don't know, says Vicki. I can find the place myself, I won't get lost, Guthrie assures her, I promise you. It is important to me, says Burke. All right, she agrees. I'll see you later, then, says Guthrie--nice to see you, Miss Evans. There's just one thing, she warns--my father's been a little tense lately, and sometimes gets too excited--if he does, you will excuse him, won't you? In an artist, anything is permissible, quips Guthrie. Don't tell him that, he'll believe it, she chuckles. He leaves. Maggie brings coffee to Burke and Vicki, who are sitting at a table. Who's he? asks Burke. A very rare human being, says Maggie--someone who's interested in my father's paintings--don't knock him!
Sam attempts to paint and when he finds he can't, throws down the brush in frustration. He looks at the booze bottle, tempted. When Guthrie knocks, Sam tells him to go away. Did you say come in? asks Guthrie, entering the cottage. I said go away, says Sam. Are you Samuel Evans? asks Guthrie. No, I'm Minnie Mouse, corrects Sam. You're Samuel Evans, all right, says Guthrie--I'd know that style anywhere. No you wouldn't, says Sam, it's not seen in very many places, unfortunately. But you are Samuel Evans, says Guthrie. I haven't been Samuel since I was seven, he replies--the name's Sam--what can I do for you? I'd like to look at some paintings, if you don't mind, says Guthrie, introducing himself as Peter Guthrie. I'd shake, says Sam, but my courtesies are limited like a well-trained dog--I have a paw. I'm sorry, you obviously hurt your hand, says Guthrie. I didn't hurt my hand, says Sam resentfully, I didn't do anything to my hands...I'm sorry, Mr. Guthrie, unfortunately, I'm not myself today. I didn't mean to interrupt anything, says Guthrie, but I'm an admirer of yours. I think you mean my paintings, says Sam. Yes, I was passing through Collinsport, says Guthrie, and I remembered you lived in the area--I'm not exactly what you would call a collector, but I am very interested in your paintings. I have to warn you, I'm very expensive, says Sam. Do you mind if I browse? asks Guthrie. Sam waves his hand--go right ahead--but, not more than six to a customer, he says ironically. Guthrie looks around. These are mostly landscapes, says Guthrie. The best you're likely to see, says Sam. And portraiture, says Guthrie--I see you do that. Only on commission, says Sam. Are these all you have in the studio? asks Guthrie. Yes, says Sam--why, are you interested in having someone do a portrait? I'm not very sure, says Sam. Guthrie bends down and begins looking through some paintings tucked into a shelf. There's nothing there, says Sam, just rejects, I'll have to paint over the canvas again. I'm never sure if an artist is the best judge of his own work, says Guthrie. There's nothing there I'd consider to sell, says Sam, then holds up a painting lying on a stool--oh, now, here's something any painter would be proud of. Guthrie, however, is far more interested in the canvas he found with a hole burnt in the center of it. What happened here? he asks. What are you doing with that? asks Sam, incensed. I'm sorry, says Guthrie, but this painting was burned, but only in part. I told you there was nothing there, says Sam angrily. May I ask you a question? Queries Guthrie. You may not, says Sam. Was this a portrait of Mrs. Laura Collins? asks Guthrie. Who are you? demands Sam. This is Mrs. Collins, isn't it? asks Guthrie, excited.
None of your business, says Sam. I heard you painted several of her portraits, says Guthrie. No, I didn't, says Sam. You didn't paint this? asks Guthrie. No, says Sam. From all I can see of the style, it certainly looks like yours, says Guthrie. (but I thought it wasn't Sam's usual style.) All right, says Sam, that'll do--I don't know who you are or who sent you or why, but get out--and he holds the door open. I would like to talk to you about this painting, insists Guthrie. I've got nothing to say, says Sam. Except that you didn't paint it, says Guthrie. That's right, says Sam. And I believe you, says Guthrie. I don't care... begins Sam--he closes the door--what did you say? I said I believe you didn't paint that painting, Guthrie assures him. Why should you believe me? asks Sam. I'm not sure, says Guthrie, but I'd like to find out. Exactly who are you? asks Sam. Somebody who can maybe help you know who did paint that painting, says Guthrie. Sam looks at the painting, then Guthrie, perplexed.
I know it's very difficult for you to talk about, says Guthrie, but I wish you'd trust me. Why should I? asks Sam--I never saw you before in my life. You know Victoria Winters, don't you? asks Guthrie. Yes, says Sam. She sent me here--you trust her, don't you? asks Guthrie. Without a question, says Sam. If you have any doubts, why don't you try to reach her, suggests Guthrie--I'm sure she's still at the Collinsport Inn. Sam goes to the phone. Try the coffee shop, where your daughter works--Maggie, says Guthrie. You saw Maggie? asks Sam. Yes, Miss winters introduced us before I came here, says Guthrie. And you're a psychologist? asks Sam. That's right, says Guthrie. (We didn't see him telling Sam that.) Then why the mystery when you came in? says Sam, why didn't you come right in and say what you wanted? If I had asked you about the paintings of Laura Collins the minute I came in that door, what would you have done? asks Guthrie. Thrown you out, says Sam. You get my point? asks Guthrie. I think so, says Sam, calmer, but after all, what is this all about? I'm trying to get to the bottom of what's going on at Collinwood and here, too, says the doctor--I'm convinced the two are related. The curse of Collinwood, says Sam--it's everywhere. That's right, says Guthrie, I'm trying to get rid of it--and I'd like your help. How? asks Sam. If you could tell me as much as you could remember of your experiences of painting Mrs. Collins, says Guthrie. Do I have to talk about it, it's such a nightmare? asks Sam. Suppose you start with your feelings about Mrs. Collins, suggests Guthrie--this means a great deal to a great many people--including you, I would think. Well, says Sam, I never knew her well, I never had any feelings one way or the other about her
--but the Laura in those paintings, whether the real one or not, I can't say, but the woman I was forced to put on canvas is...evil incarnate.
As far as I'm concerned, Burke tells Vicki, Laura Collins is the most wonderful woman in the world. Is that why you wanted me to stay here? she asks--is that the important thing you wanted to tell me? No, not really, he says, but you haven't forgotten our last meeting, have you? Forgotten it? she asks, for a moment, I thought we were going to have the same conversation all over again. I don't want to talk about Laura, he says, I want to talk about us--we can't seem to agree about Laura--I remember the last time I let our disagreement get a little overheated. Just as much my fault, says Vicki. What I can't understand is why can't two rational, reasonable people who want to discuss something discuss it without getting into an argument? asks Burke. But are you being rational about Laura? asks Vicki. I could ask you the same question, don't forget, says Burke. Me? asks Vicki. Why don't you like her? asks Burke. I never said I didn't, says Vicki. I'll tell you why, says Burke--because you let Liz tell you exactly what to think. That's not true! says Vicki. And you swallow it all as gospel, says Burke, but remember one thing--Liz wants David. She wants David to be happy! says Vicki. She wants David for herself, and will fight anyone who tries to take him away, insists Burke. That's not true, either, says Vicki.
It is, believe me, says Burke, I know better than anyone how tough a fighter Liz can be. I don't want to talk about this anymore, says Vicki. All right, he says gently, we won't talk about it now, but one day, you'll see I'm right, you'll realize Laura is a warm (let's say hot!) understanding, sensitive woman. (oh, she's got to have him brainwashed!)
I painted Laura Collins, Sam tells Guthrie--I had a vision of a woman who placed herself out of reach, away from anything human--human warmth, understanding--she seemed utterly incapable of it--malice--that's what she saw--not cold--calculating, raging and all-consuming--consuming the way fire consumes--destructive the way fire destroys--she even seemed beyond caring that it might destroy her, too--that's how I saw Laura Collins. (powerful stuff; is that how we see Laura? Is her love for David pretense?)
I guess I'd better go back to Collinwood, Vicki tells Burke, with Mrs. Stoddard away, I have the extra responsibility of David. Good, I'll get my coat, says Burke. They both leave the table. Who would have thought that Elizabeth Collins Stoddard was subject to all that flesh is heir to, like the rest of us mortals? He asks ruefully. He puts on his coat in the lobby. I'm very worried about her, says Vicki. I'm worried, too, he says. I'm sure you are, she says sarcastically. I mean it, insists Burke--nothing would disappoint me more than to have Liz taken out of the game before I have my innings--she's a tough, hard fighter, never gives an inch--I like that kind of fight--no one was more surprised to hear she was sick than I was--she certainly didn't look sick the last time I saw her--you'd have thought thunder and lightning was coming from her, not the storm. He sorts through his mail at the desk. The storm? asks Vicki. The storm the night she got sick, says Burke. You saw Mrs. Stoddard the night she got sick? asks Vicki anxiously. Briefly, says Burke--Laura put me out before the fight started. Laura? asks Vicki. OK, I admit it, says Burke, I was at Laura's cottage--I'm not ashamed of it, and neither is she. And Mrs. Stoddard came to the cottage? asks Vicki. She came crashing in, says Burke. Guthrie enters. You're still here, good, he says. Did you buy any paintings? asks Burke. No, says the doctor, but I found one that I think is very interesting--do you still want a lift back to Collinwood? I was just about to take her, says Burke. I don't want to put you out of your way, Burke, she says. For you, Vicki, he says, nothing could put me out of the way. Thank you anyway, she says, but Mr. Guthrie is going my way. We're still pals, right? asks Burke. Right, says Vicki. Nice to meet you, Mr. Guthrie, says Burke and leaves the Inn. You don't have to come back right now, you know, says Guthrie. I want to go back to Collinwood, she assures him. It's none of my business, he says, but did Mr. Devlin say anything to upset you? Yes, says Vicki, and it IS your business--he saw Mrs. Stoddard right before she got sick--at the cottage--he left and Mrs. Stoddard was alone there with Mrs. Collins
--who apparently wasn't telling the truth, because Mrs. Stoddard was alone there with Mrs. Collins before she got sick. Guthrie is very interested in this piece of news.
NOTES: Sam on the wagon--what a concept! It makes his already nasty personality even more edgy, and more sharply funny. Minnie Mouse? LOL! His description of how he saw Laura is chilling.
Now that Guthrie knows about Sam's compulsion to paint those portraits, and Vicki has learned of Liz' last moments before going into her trance, will they compare notes and pinpoint Laura as the source? Will they soon be nipping at the heels of the mother-cum-Phoenix--and before it's too late for David?
Vicki definitely seemed jealous about Burke and Laura. And Burke's feelings still ring false to me, too!
Episode #165 - It is night now at Collinwood--the stars can be seen--the sounds of the nearby sea heard through the cold, quiet night air--but there is something that cannot be seen or heard--and Collinwood is its home--its presence is felt even in the seemingly insignificant battles concerning a small boy.
David troops downstairs, overnight case in hand. Vicki follows, demanding to know where he's going this time of night--he's supposed to be getting ready for bed. I'm going to the cottage, he says. You are not going to the cottage, she says, and grabs the suitcase from his hand. It falls open, revealing his PJ's. Now look what you've done! he accuses her. Your pajamas! exclaims Vicki, as they both kneel to pick up the articles. Where are you going? asks Vicki again. I'm going to stay overnight with my mother! insists David. We're not going to argue about that, are we? asks Vicki. Indeed we are not, says Roger, who has just come in. I can go, can't I? asks David. Of course you can, says Roger. He really should have asked for permission, says Vicki. He did, says Roger, and I gave it. Roger looks smug at his declaration of power.
You spilled out all my things! says David. I'm sorry, says Vicki--please take your things upstairs up to your room. But he said I could go! says David. I don't think you understood, says Roger, I have given David permission to spend the night at his mother's. I know, says Vicki, but may I talk to you first? I don't know that that's necessary at all, says Roger. Please, just for a minute, begs Vicki. You're going to let her change your mind, says David, having retrieved all his things and put them back in the suitcase. Of course I'm not, soothes Roger. May I talk to you, PLEASE? asks Vicki. All right, says Roger, very reluctant--go up to your room and wait, he tells his son. You're going to change your mind! insists David. Now listen, the only thing that might persuade me to change my mind is bad manners from you, warns Roger--go upstairs like I said. Don't forget--you made a promise! says David, and goes upstairs. Roger joins Vicki in the drawing room. All right, he says, speak your piece. I don't think it would be very wise for David to stay at the cottage tonight, she says. I may not have wisdom in some areas, he says, but I think it can be trusted in this particular instance--shall we consider the matter settled? But seeing his mother only seems to upset him more, says Vicki. Perhaps because he senses your hostility toward her, suggests Roger. I have nothing against Mrs. Collins, says Vicki. Now you're being ridiculous if not downright dishonest, says Roger. I'm only trying to do what Mrs. Stoddard asked me to do, says Vicki--keep charge of David. A prerogative I don't think she had any right to presume, says Roger--I'm David's father. I know that, she says. Then please act accordingly, he says--I don't enjoy being harsh with you, but there are some things you're apt to forget. He pours a drink. Maybe, she says, but one of them is not my responsibility toward David. You're forgetting that your responsibilities are limited to those of a governess, he says. Those limits were set by my orders from Mrs. Stoddard, says Vicki. How many times do I have to tell you that SHE has exceeded her authority and you are exceeding yours? he asks. Carolyn runs in. What's with David? she asks, amused--he's sitting on the floor outside his room clutching a suitcase--is he all right? Roger downs his drink. David is perfectly fine, he says--now if you'll excuse me, Vicki. Please, Roger just one more word, says Vicki. I have assumed that I've had the last word, says Roger. You know the trouble David's been having sleeping, the nightmares he has. Spending the night with his mother might dispel this once and for all, says Roger. With his mother? asks Carolyn--David's spending the night at the cottage? Annoyed, Roger tells her David is spending the night at the cottage--good heavens, I'm not taking the boy to the Antibes! Please don't let him go, I'm asking you not to, begs Vicki. If Vicki doesn't want him to go, says Carolyn, that settles the matter--she is in charge of David. The last thing we need at this moment is an interruption from you, Miss, says Roger. (nasty--and uncalled for!) Perhaps I should remind you, says Carolyn, that before my mother left, she put me completely in charge... Yes, interrupts Roger, you are the mistress of Collinwood, the keeper of the keys--kindly rattle your keys somewhere else for the moment. Mother isn't going to like this, warns Carolyn. Maybe she isn't, says Roger, but there's nothing I can do about it. Then you're going to let David go? asks Vicki. Do you really think that you were going to persuade me otherwise? asks Roger.
No, I guess not--but I had to try, she replies. If I were you, says Roger, and you, too, Carolyn, I wouldn't let subjective emotions, based, perhaps, on envy, condition and evaluation of Mrs. Collins--also, I beg you to remember your several and sundry authorities in this house do not extend to countermanding any decision I make regarding my own son--now, if you'll excuse me, I'll take David to his mother. (it appeared that he read all of this complicated speech directly from the TelePrompTer.) And he walks past the two stricken women.
Drawing room - I guess he's right, says Vicki, we have no right to stop him if he wants David to be with his mother--he is David's father. Carolyn frowns. If my mother were here, you wouldn't act this way, points out Carolyn. But she isn't, says Vicki--I'm really worried. You think David might be in some kind of danger, don't you? asks Carolyn, sitting beside her on the sofa. I don't really know, says Vicki. If only I had some definite proof, laments Carolyn. Proof of what? asks Vicki. I'm convinced Aunt Laura had something to do with my mother getting sick, says Carolyn--that's why I wish I had proof. But we don't even know what's wrong with her, says Vicki. We don't, agrees Carolyn, but I bet my Aunt Laura does--she looks at Vicki's face--you feel the same way?--oh, if I just had some little piece of evidence. Maybe we do! says Vicki. What is it? asks Carolyn, but they are interrupted by Dr. Guthrie's knock at the door. Vicki invites him in and Carolyn tells him that Vicki has absolute proof that Aunt Laura was responsible for what happened to Mother. That's not what I said, objects Vicki. It is, too, says Carolyn. I said there's some evidence that Mrs. Collins might be responsible for what happened, says Vicki. You mean what Mr. Devlin told you this afternoon? asks Guthrie. You saw Burke? asks Carolyn--what did he tell you? You know how we've been trying to figure out where your mother was before she got sick? asks Vicki--how we thought she was out for a walk somewhere, but nobody had seen her? At least everybody in the household said they hadn't seen her, says Guthrie. But Burke saw her, says Carolyn. Yes, says Vicki, he saw her just before she got sick, before the storm started. Where? asks Carolyn. In the cottage, says Vicki, with your Aunt Laura.
Cottage - I was beginning to worry, Laura tells Roger and David--I thought perhaps you'd changed your mind and weren't coming. Miss Winters tried to stop me, says David. Really? asks Laura. Miss Winters just wanted to discuss it, corrects Roger--I probably should have mentioned it to her anyhow. Yes, says David, she would have said no then! Miss Winters doesn't say no to your father, Laura tells him, she's your governess, she's hired to direct your studies, that's all. Sometimes, I think she's trying to direct everything I do, he says, annoyed--sometimes I wish she'd just leave me alone! Now that isn't the right attitude, young man, says Roger--Miss winters is in charge in some areas, like your studies, when she is in charge, you should obey her, is that clear? David doesn't reply. It's kind of confusing for him, says Laura, with everyone telling him something different. I think we removed some of the confusion tonight, asserts Roger.
I'm glad to hear it, says Laura. David climbs on the sofa. She tried to stop me from coming, he says, but he wouldn't let her--he stuck up for me--and for both of us. She did nothing of the sort, says Roger, there was nothing to stand up for, I merely told her I'd given you permission to spend the night with your mother--now I want you to behave yourself while you're here, you hear? He will, Laura assures him, smiling at David. And go to bed when your mother tells you, says Roger. I will, promises David. And just to avoid any further confusion, I'm telling you now, says Roger--your mother is in complete charge. Laura cups David's chin in her hands. Does that frighten you, David? she asks jokingly. He shakes his head. No, not at all, he says. Laura laughs. Good night, says Roger, and leaves. Laura gazes at her son and gives him a hug.
Drawing room - Carolyn paces past Peter and Vicki and announces she's going to go right down to that cottage and find out what all this is about. Don't, please, urges Peter. But that woman did something to my mother, says Carolyn. But we're not sure what, says Vicki. She was the last one to see her before she got sick, points out Carolyn. Yes, that's true, says Peter, and she denied it, but that doesn't necessarily prove anything. It certainly does to me, says Carolyn. What? asks Vicki. That she had something to hide, says Carolyn. I would prefer that Mrs. Collins not know we have this information, says Peter. Why not? asks Carolyn. She'll realize that she's under some sort of suspicion, he says, and she might not cooperate with what I have in mind. What's that? asks Vicki. Mind you, I'm not at all sure it will work, says Peter, but the whole case is so shrouded in mystery... There's no mystery about my Aunt Laura as far as I'm concerned, insists Carolyn--she did something to my mother! Please let Dr. Guthrie finish, says Vicki. I'm sure that you both are familiar with, or know the meaning of the word seance, says Peter--I'm not at all sure that it's either necessary or desirable, but it is something I've been thinking about, and I did want to mention it to both of you. Carolyn bites a fingernail. You mean trying to make contact with spirits and all that? she asks. Precisely, says Peter. You think that Mrs. Collins is involved in something spiritual? Asks Vicki. No, says Peter, not Mrs. Collins necessarily, but very likely Mrs. Stoddard--we know there's no natural reason for her condition. And YOU want to try to find out what the unnatural cause might be? says Carolyn. Not the unnatural so much as the supernatural, he says, that's what I've been trying to find from the beginning. And you think that you can find this out through a seance? Asks Vicki. I'm not sure, he replies, but I want to consider it--and I wish the two of you would think about it. Yes, of course, says Vicki. Do you think we should tell Dr. Guthrie about David and my aunt? Carolyn quietly asks Vicki. Peter, standing by the fireplace, asks what happened. He's spending the night with her at her cottage, says Vicki. I thought Mrs. Stoddard requested that you keep David away from his mother as much as possible, says Peter. Tonight it just wasn't possible, says Vicki. My Uncle Roger insisted, explains Carolyn, and there was nothing we could do to stop him--but now we can! How do you mean? asks Peter. When we tell him how Aunt Laura lied about having seen Mother, he'll have to admit David shouldn't be with her, says Carolyn. Oh, no, no, no, says Peter, I wouldn't advise that--if I know your uncle, he'll confront Mrs. Collins as soon as possible--and that would make her even more suspicious--you see, I want to make sure that she'll cooperate with us if we decide to go ahead with the seance. He's right, Vicki tells Carolyn, she'd never cooperate if she thought we suspected her. But isn't David in some kind of danger? asks Carolyn. I don't think so, says Peter--I think David's safe enough with her, you see, his mother is obviously trying to win him over, which convinces me he'll be safe with her tonight. I wish I could be as sure of that, says Carolyn.
Trust me, please, says Peter. We really don't have any choice, says Carolyn.
Laura is making up the sofa for David to sleep on. This isn't as big as your bed at home, she says, but I certainly hope it's just as comfortable. I don't know, he says uncertainly. Oh, David, she says, sitting on the sofa, you've slept in places other than your own room, my goodness, you used to sleep in a crib right next to my bed when you were a baby--of course you don't remember that, do you? No, he admits. I remember it, very well, she says, holding him close--those were the happiest years of my life--and you were very happy then, too--you used to smile in your sleep and I used to go over and pick you up in my arms and you'd never even wake up. Aunt Elizabeth says I smile sometimes in my sleep even now, says David, grinning. You do? asks Laura. Of course I'm too big for her to pick me up in her arms, he says, but I guess she was just checking on me to see if everything was OK--that was before she got sick. Your Aunt Elizabeth does everything she possibly can for you, says Laura. She used to let me read to her, says David. Did you like that? asks Laura. Sometimes, he says, when she'd stop pronouncing big words for me--I wanted to do them myself, without any help. You can't blame her for being impatient, says Laura, after all, patience is something only a mother has. (nasty dig!) I sort of miss her, says David sadly. OF course you do, says Laura--you know what, I have a book over there--you want to go get it?--I was going to read to you--I'd forgotten how grown up you really are. He sits by the fire; she pats the seat beside her and asks him to come over here. I think I can read better from over here, he says, displeasing her. Oh, I think the light's better here, isn't it? she asks. She notices his hesitation and asks if he's afraid to be away from his own room. No, he says, not really. You're certainly not afraid of me anymore, she adds. No, he agrees. Well, then, come on! she says, and he relents and sits next to her. She encloses him in her arm. There, she says, hugging him, you're still my little boy, and I can still hold you in my arms and give you the love that only a mother can give. David snuggles close, half-smiling. It's hard to tell exactly what's going through his mind.
Drawing room - Vicki sits on the sofa, Carolyn stands by the fireplace. Is it my imagination, asks Carolyn, or did it suddenly get colder? I don't really know, says Vicki, distracted. Maybe the fire went down, I didn't even notice, says Carolyn. You might as well let it go out, suggests Vicki--it's almost time for bed. Vicki, I'm scared, confesses Carolyn, sitting beside her. So am I, says Vicki, rubbing her arms--it is colder. Do you know what I wish? Asks Carolyn--I wish my mother were here--she could help me.
Cottage - David is falling asleep in his mother's arms. Laura feels a presence and sits up straighter. I know you're here, she says, you're here, Josette--you're somewhere in this room--what do you want? Josette's ghost appears by the door. Leave him alone, he's mine! orders Laura. Josette steps closer. As long as I hold him in my arms, you have no power over him, says Laura. Josette comes closer, trying to reach for David, but she can't, and drops her ghostly arms. Stay away, Josette! says Laura--you see, I told you it was useless to interfere--now leave us! Josette, thwarted, does so. And never come back, adds Laura--never! Josette fades away.
David abruptly awakens. Aunt Elizabeth? He calls. (attaboy, David!) Laura caresses his hair. It's Mother, says Laura, pulling him close, go back to sleep, dear. Who was just here? he asks. No one, she says. It feels like someone was just here, he insists. You must have been dreaming, she says, placing his head in her lap--go back to sleep again--that's it...that's a good boy, close your eyes, have beautiful dreams--you're not going to have any nightmares, I promise you that. I won't be afraid? He asks. You'll never be afraid, she vows--as long as you're with me, you won't be frightened, remember that--I want you to remember that always, no matter what. She looks around to make sure they are completely alone.
NOTES: Sounds as if Laura is quite familiar with Josette's ghost, and perhaps knows that it was Josette who induced Sam to paint the painting and who finished it off by adding David to the portrait. So Laura knows she has a ghostly enemy. And unfortunately, Laura won this round. Someone suggests to me that it was Josette screaming when Laura's portrait burned in the fireplace, and I have to agree with that now. Laura knew that portrait was her chance to possibly save David from the fate Laura has in store for him, and when it burned, she pushed Sam to do another one--but Laura thwarted the effort by burning Sam's hands. So it's been a tug of war between two supernatural creatures for David's life. Who will win?
Laura may have silenced Liz about seeing her and Burke together, but she apparently didn't shush Burke, too. Did she believe he wouldn't tell anyone about Liz catching them together in the cottage? Burke is too honest for that. Why didn't Laura make Burke forget what happened, too? Slip-up, Laura.
Laura gives me the chills, and I wonder how David can feel true motherly love coming from her. Of course, her memories of his babyhood are touching, and meant to draw him closer to her, but she is still so creepy, and her voice gives me nasty chills.
Notice David called for Liz when he woke up, which proves to me that she's the one he loves most. Deep down, I think David knows who really loves and wants what's best for him. Josette might even be part of the reason for that.
Will the investigative team of Guthrie, Winters and Stoddard win out over Laura and Roger? Stay tuned!
Love, Robin
