Episode #97 - Last night, I learned that a man I considered my friend might be implicated in an unexplained death--I shared this secret with only one other man. Now I dread having to face the rest of the family at Collinwood, not knowing what to expect.
Liz, Roger and Carolyn are hanging out in the drawing room, having morning coffee. Vicki reluctantly comes downstairs and joins them. Good morning, she says. Good morning, says Liz unenthusiastically. Carolyn says nothing. Good morning, says Roger--I trust you slept well after our arduous night. (That sounds questionable!) Thank you, I did, she says, sitting across from Carolyn and Liz. Did you have fun in Bangor? asks Carolyn coldly. Not really, says Vicki. I know why you went there, says Liz--I think you might have told me. Carolyn, did you...? asks Vicki reproachfully. I'd like to speak to you about it alone, if you don't mind, says Liz. I don't mind at all, says Vicki. Oh, Liz, says Roger, you aren't going to browbeat the poor girl this early in the morning! Suppose you let me handle this my own way, suggests Liz. As you wish, says Roger, shall we get some fresh coffee, Kitten? Delighted, says Carolyn, like she doesn't give a damn, and she and Roger exit the drawing room, both looking pissed off. Liz closes the doors and turns to face Vicki, who stands and stares back at her.
Liz steps forward. You know I'm fond of you, don't you? asks Liz. Yes I do, says Vicki, and it makes me very happy--I also know I've done something to displease you--but there was nothing else I could have done. Was it necessary to drive to Bangor with Burke? she asks. Didn't Carolyn tell you about it? asks Vicki--when I was in the coffee shop, waiting for my bus, Burke came in and said he was going to Bangor on business--it would have been silly to take the bus. She didn't put it in exactly those words, says Liz. (Carolyn lied!) You can see that I couldn't very well refuse his offer, says Vicki. I understand, says Liz--but the next day you called my attorneys and asked for an appointment to see them. I went to Bangor just to see your lawyers, says Vicki--when I was locked in that room, I found an old ledger sheet with Garner & Garner at the top--among the names was one--B. Hanscomb. I don't see the connection, says Liz. Vicki explains about finding the portrait of Betty Hanscomb at the Evans house--she looked very much like me. I remember her quite well, says Liz--she didn't look anything at all like you. I had thought it might be some link with my past, says Vicki. Why didn't you ask me? queries Liz. Because when I do ask you, you always avoid answering my questions on that subject. I simply don't have the answers! says Liz. Vicki looks downcast. A while ago, says Liz, I thought I made it clear to you that, to the best of my knowledge, there is no link between your past and Collinsport. All right, says Vicki, beaten--thank you. Liz stops her--did anything happen between you and Burke in Bangor?--she hesitates--I trust you--I won't ask you what happened in Bangor and what Burke did to frighten you so that you found it necessary to call my brother to come get you.
Vicki is clearly unhappy.
Carolyn and Roger sit on the steps, drinking their coffee. I think you have it all wrong about Vicki, he tells his niece, if she had such a special interest in Devlin, why would she call me to come and get her? That's exactly what I'd like to know, says Carolyn--didn't she tell you? No, he says, all I could get out of her was that possibly Burke was a little too drunk and she didn't want to drive home with him in that condition. Burke does get quite drunk at times, agrees Carolyn. There you are--that could be the solution, says Roger. If that had been the case, Vicki could have driven that car by herself! insists Carolyn. Not last night, he says--in that storm, we were lucky to get home with me driving. They stand. Uncle Roger, says Carolyn, you said that Burke had already left. Apparently, I didn't see him, says Roger. Then why didn't Vicki just stay at the hotel, asks Carolyn--why did she make you come all that distance in a storm? I may be an old fogy to you, because I'm your uncle, says Roger--but I'm not Vicki's uncle. (You just might be, Roger, and what are you implying?) You mean you and Vicki? asks Carolyn joyfully--oh, no, then she'd be my aunt! (That's good news?) Vicki exits the drawing room. Roger asks if the boss is available. I think so, she replies, and Roger goes in after first smiling conspiratorially at Carolyn. Vicki starts to head to the stairs, but Carolyn hoists herself up on the table and says, "Well, you must have had quite a time in Bangor." It was all right, says Vicki coolly. Do you really like my Uncle Roger? asks Carolyn. Yes, I think he's very nice, says Vicki. I think so, too, says Carolyn--he's very fond of you. Oh? asks Vicki. He must be, don't you think, to make that trip to rescue you from the clutches of Burke Devlin? asks Carolyn. I was NOT in Burke's clutches! insists Vicki. Then why did you refuse his offer to drive you back? demands Carolyn, no longer smiling--what happened between you? Nothing at all, says Vicki, and for your information, I spent most of my time with a very attractive young man called Frank Garner. He's nothing but a kid, says Carolyn. How long has it been since you've seen him? asks Vicki. I don't know, says Carolyn, years, I guess. He happens to be at least 10 years older than you, says Vicki. That's right, he must be, says Carolyn. And he's very good-looking, Vicki tells her. You have all the luck, says Carolyn. And there's one more thing, Carolyn Stoddard, my best friend, says Vicki sarcastically--Burke told me on the drive up that it wasn't an accident he came into the coffee shop--you called him and told him to come downstairs--so he came down to see you, not me. And Vicki goes upstairs, leaving Carolyn with something to think about.
Drawing room - I honestly can't give you any explanation for her sudden switch in plans, Roger tells Liz--the phone call was quite brief, she seemed scared to death. Didn't you discuss it on the way back? asks Liz. She was too upset to be coherent, I didn't want to press her, says Roger--you just spent a long time with her yourself, just now--did she say anything to you? Nothing I didn't already know, says Liz. That still doesn't answer the question why she was so anxious to go to Bangor with Burke. I don't think she was particularly anxious to go with him, says Liz, I think that was coincidence--but what DOES interest me is why she suddenly called you to bring her back. What I just suggested to Carolyn, says Roger, was that Burke was too drunk and she didn't want to travel back with him in that condition--after all, you remember 10 years ago when he was driving a car. Why didn't she tell me that? asks Liz, coming to stand beside him. She impresses me as a girl who doesn't like to tell ales out of school, says Roger. Anything about Burke affects us, she knows that, says Liz--this is her home. I'm afraid we haven't made her feel very much that way, says Roger--I admit, I'm partially to blame. Then you've changed your mind? she asks. No! he says, I don't think it's safe for her here--heaven only knows what David will think of next. David's attitude has changed now, says Liz. So he says, says Roger, but how do we know how much he says is truth? I suppose we'll just have to keep a closer watch over him, says Liz. And I'll keep a closer watch over Vicki, murmurs Roger.
Vicki comes downstairs, buttoning her coat. Carolyn comes in from the kitchen and asks where she's going. Out, says Vicki. Can I drive you somewhere, or do you want to take my car? offers Carolyn. No, I think I'll walk, says Vicki, tying her belt. You want company? Asks Carolyn eagerly. No thanks, says Vicki. Was Burke drunk in Bangor? asks Carolyn--is that why you wouldn't let him drive you home? No, that wasn't it at all, says Vicki, I wish you'd get him off your mind. Why should I? asks Carolyn. Your mother and uncle have asked you to, Vicki reminds her. And you think I should, too, says Carolyn, why--is there more to that Bangor trip than you told me? I think Burke is a dangerous man to have for a friend, says Vicki--he's unpredictable. If he's so unpredictable, says Carolyn, then why did you take that trip and spend the night in the same hotel with him? Here, here, says Roger, putting one arm around each girl, because it's the best hotel in town, that's why, what's wrong with that? How do I know what happened? asks Carolyn angrily. What difference does it make? asks Roger. That's what I'd like to know, says Vicki, why is it so important to you? I think that as long as you live here at Collinwood, everything you do reflects on his, says Carolyn self-righteously.
And does nothing you do reflect on anyone? demands Vicki, (get her, Vicki!) sending Carolyn racing upstairs in a rage. Vicki opens the doors to leave, and Roger asks where she's going. Out for a walk, she says, I thought after the rain, it would be very nice. Anyplace special? he asks. Don't you start on me, she warns him--I'm not going to the Collinsport Inn, if that's what you're worried about. That's not the only place I'd hate to see you go, he says. I'm not going to the sheriff's office, either, she says, I'm just going for a walk. She slips her scarf over her head and leaves. We see her walking down the steps.
Many brave hearts are asleep in the deep, so beware, beeeeeeaware! Sings Sam Evans, threading a needle with great difficulty. Hearing a knock at the door, he throws down the needle and answers it. It's Vicki. He greets her warmly and invites her in. I hope I'm not disturbing you, she says. Me?--of course not, he assures her--Maggie's not here, but please come in. I didn't come to see Maggie, I came to see you, she tells him. Well, an honor! He says grandly, and helps her off with her coat. I promise I won't stay too long, she says. First you raise my hopes, then dash them to the ground, he teases. Actually, I didn't come to see you, either, she says. Well, this girl is curiouser and curiouser, says Sam, crossing his arms over his chest--you didn't come to see Maggie or me--let's figure this out--I know--you came to see the cat--puss, puss, puss, puss, puss, he calls, then says the cat's not home, either. Vicki is smiling. I came to see one of your paintings, she says. Don't tell me you're a potential customer! says Sam--if I'd known that, I would have rolled out the red carpet and hired a brass band. That won't be necessary, I'm afraid, says Vicki--I'm not a customer, I just wanted to look at one of your paintings. You still do me honor, he says--anyone who has seen one of my efforts and wants to see it again is more than welcome. I want to see the portrait of Betty Hanscomb, says Vicki. I've done better than that, he says. It isn't the quality of the painting but the likeness, says Vicki--I want to know if I really saw it or if it was of my imagination. Miss Winters, he says, I am not of that school of painters where you have to have a wild imagination to understand the work--I paint what I see. I know, says Vicki, and I like it--I went to Bangor to see if I could find out something more about Betty Hanscomb or B. Hanscomb. B. Hanscomb? Asks Sam--well, that could have been Betty. I don't think so, she says, B. Hanscomb was the Collins butler. My dear child, he says, I can assure you Betty was never a butler anywhere. I know, grins Vicki, I think B. Hanscomb must have been her uncle or father or some sort of relative--I wanted to track him down, to find out what had happened to Betty. I'm afraid I can't help you there at all, says Sam, filling his pipe--until you just told me, I didn't know there was any relative named Hanscomb at Collinwood. Haven't you been living here a long time? asks Vicki. Yeah, but that doesn't matter, says Sam, when Maggie's mother was alive, we stayed pretty much to ourselves, and then after she died, I was even more of a loner--I didn't mingle very much with the natives. The natives? asks Vicki. Yes, that's anyone whose family has lived here for a couple of hundred years, says Sam. Like the Collins family, she says. Yes, they were among the first families to settle in the area, explains Sam, and it's the descendants of those people that are the real natives. And where are you from? asks Vicki. Connecticut, he replies, that's pretty far south from here, but to a real Southerner, I'm a Yankee. To me, she says, you're a man I'm very glad I know. Sam smiles and says it's very kind of her--you know I'm sorry I haven't been able to make you feel more at home in Collinsport, but I've had so much on my mind. Nonsense, Vicki assures him, this is the only home I've been in, outside of Collinwood. You're welcome any time, he says. I might take unfair advantage of that offer, she warns him. Any advantage you would take of it would not be unfair, he says, that's the way it was meant. In that case, could I see the picture of Betty Hanscomb? She asks. Of course, says Sam, what did I do with it? The last time I was here, says Vicki, it was in that stack over there. She points. Yes, says Sam, and goes through the pictures and retrieves the one she wants. Here it is, he says, and sets it up on the easel. DO you see a resemblance? Asks Vicki. Superficially, yes, he says, rubbing his beard, when I was painting Betty, I was trying to paint her soul, what was inside her. Do you think you succeeded? Asks Vicki. Who knows what's in a woman's soul? Sam asks. I love it, says Vicki.
It's yours, says Sam, handing it to her. What? asks Vicki, shocked. Even savages make present to their guests, says Sam, the least you could do is allow me the honor of making you a present of this painting. I couldn't, not really, says Vicki. You'll hurt my feelings, cautions Sam. I don't know what to say! says Vicki. Just say thank you, suggests Sam. I do thank you, she says fervently, and I'll treasure it always, I really will. I'll wrap it up, he says, not so much to preserve the painting, but to protect your treasure. She sets the painting back on the easel and gently touches it, overwhelmed by Sam's generosity.
Drawing room - Liz opens the window. Roger comes in reading the newspaper. She tells him she wants to talk to him. Roger removes his glasses. What is it? he asks. Dick Garner called from Bangor, says Liz, and says Vicki was there asking questions--she wanted to find something out about Betty Hanscomb. Who's that? asks Roger. Surely you must remember Hanscomb, says Liz, he was our butler for years--Betty was either his daughter or his niece. I don't remember, says Roger--we haven't had servants in this house foe 18 years, except Matthew, of course, and before that, I was away at school. Vicki saw a portrait of this B. Hanscomb painted by Sam Evans and she thought it looked like her, says Liz. Did it? asks Roger. I've never seen the picture, says Liz. Would you like me to call Evans and ask him for it? Roger queries. No, says Liz, there must be absolutely no importance attached to the picture. Why not? asks Roger, as if he really wants to know. Because I prefer it, says Liz. Now you've succeeded in arousing my curiosity, says Roger. I don't mind arousing your curiosity, says Liz, I don't want anyone else's aroused. And you still won't tell me anything about it? asks Roger. No I won't, she says. I realize you've always tried to protect David and Carolyn, he says, now I presume you're trying to protect Vicki. Yes I am, she says. Why? he asks. I told you--she's my responsibility, says Liz--and even you must admit I've never shirked a responsibility. That's true, he says, but... Vicki enters the house. Later' says Liz. Vicki asks if she's disturbing them. Not at all, says Liz. What have you got there? asks Roger. A surprise, says Vicki, Sam Evans gave it to me. She unwraps the painting and shows them the portrait of Betty Hanscomb. Do you see a resemblance? Vicki asks Liz. No, I don't, really, says Liz as Roger eyes her sharply--do you, Roger? Roger puts on his specs and says, "Not the faintest." I do, says Vicki, and so did Maggie and Mr. Evans. I think they were being kind to you, says Liz, and seeing what you wanted them to see. Do you really think that? asks Vicki. Carolyn comes in. Oh, you're back, she says. Yes, says Vicki, and turns the portrait around so she can see it.
"Vicki, where did you have the portrait done?" asks Carolyn--it looks exactly like you. Vicki gazes at Liz and Roger, and Liz is silent.
NOTES: It looks as if Vicki is B. Hanscomb's daughter, but who was this woman, and how is Liz connected? Why is she so against Vicki learning her true parentage?
Vicki told off Carolyn; reminding her that SHE originally called Burke to come down. Vicki showed class by not revealing that to Liz, but I was very glad she called spoiled brat Carolyn on it!
Nice scene between Vicki and Sam. He was so nice to her, an generous, and she was stunned by it. I guess she hasn't seen much generosity in her life. Why does Liz feel compelled to protect her, and what is she protecting Vicki from?
Roger is making is sound like he and Vicki are "together", at least to Carolyn. What is his motive for that? Of course, he fears Vicki telling the Tale of the Pen, but she seems determined to keep that a secret as promised. Why didn't she just allay the concerns of Carolyn and Liz by lying that she didn't come home with Burke because he was drunk? No muss, no fuss. Now Carolyn is still jealous, still catty, and so nasty. Roger is playing more games, but his motives are beyond me.
Episode #98 - Collinwood--the great mansion I now call home--harbors many secrets kept for years from the prying eyes of outsiders--now a stranger is coming to Collinwood--a stranger determined to uncover those secrets--and bring destruction to the Collins family.
Matthew enters the drawing room, where Liz does paperwork at the desk. She tells him Mrs. Johnson is moving in today, she ought to be here any time now. I figured you might have changed your mind about her, says Matthew, disappointed. Certainly not, says Liz, we can use the extra help. I told you I could do everything that needs to be done around here, he reminds her. You've been managing alone long enough, says Liz--besides, Mr. Malloy would want me to engage her--she was his housekeeper for years, and now that he's dead, she has no place to go. She could find other work, says Matthew, people do. I'm not going to discuss it, says Liz, I've engaged her, and I want you to do everything you can to make her feel welcome. I'll try, he promises. There's a knock at the door, and Liz tells Matthew that's Mrs. Johnson-- please let her in. He goes to the door and invites her in. She's carrying two heavy suitcases. Liz invites Sarah into the drawing room and tells Matthew to bring the bags up to Mrs. Johnson's room. Yes, ma'am, he says, doing his duty, but not happy about it.
Liz asks Sarah to sit down, and cordially welcomes her to Collinwood. I'm happy to be working in this house with people who were so close to Mr. Malloy, says Sarah. I was very fond of him, says Liz, I know we have that in common. He was the finest man to walk this earth, says Sarah fervently. You understand what your duties are, says Liz. Light housekeeping and cooking, says Sarah. Yes, the cleaning only includes the rooms I showed you, says Liz--it might not be necessary for you to cook all our meals, but I will expect you to prepare dinner each night--we usually dine at eight o'clock. (So late!) I see, says Sarah. Your room is third from the right at the top of the stairs, says Liz--I hope you'll be comfortable. I'm sure I will, says Sarah. Are there any questions you'd like to ask me? asks Liz. I know my duties, says Sarah, and beyond that, I don't ask any questions. That's good to know, says Liz. My business is my business, insists Sarah, and I think it's the same for other people, too. I quite agree, says Liz. I think we're going to get along just fine, says Sarah. I hope so, says Liz--perhaps I should caution you about certain members of the household. Caution me? asks Sarah. What I mean is, says Liz, aside from Miss Winters, David's tutor, no one else has lived in this house for ages except family members and Matthew--you may sense a certain hostility in my brother--but pay no attention, it will pass--it's just that neither one of them are used to strangers. I understand, says Sarah, and I promise I'll do my best to keep out of anybody's way--if that's all, I'll just unpack and get to work. She rises from the chair. Perhaps there's one other thing I should mention, says Liz--the other day, I told you about part of the house being closed off. Yes, I believe you told me the East Wing, says Sarah. There's also the basement, says Liz--there's no need for you to go down there, ever, in fact, I'd prefer you didn't. Whatever you say, agrees Sarah, nevertheless puzzled. It's just a storage area and has been closed off for years, says Liz. I understand, says Sarah. I guess you'd like to go to your room now? asks Liz. I'd like to unpack, says Sarah. I'll show you where it is, says Liz. You said it was the third door to the right? asks Sarah. Yes, says Liz. On the stairs, David hears the women's voices and starts to go back up. You don't have to show me, I can find it myself, Sarah tells Liz. Spotting her nephew, Liz calls his name. Yes, Aunt Elizabeth, he says, caught. Come downstairs, please, she says. All right, he says. Liz introduces him to Mrs. Johnson, their new housekeeper. I know, says David belligerently, we already met. Oh? asks Liz. At the hotel coffee shop, says Sarah, I often go there for a cup of coffee. What do you want to work here for? asks David. Liz chastises him for being rude. I'm sure he didn't mean it the way it sounded, says Sarah--I'll just go unpack and be right down. Liz puts an arm around David and asks him to please come into the drawing room with her. OK, he says. We see Sarah heading upstairs as Liz closes the doors. I will not allow you to be rude to people, says Liz. Do I have to apologize to her again? asks David. Again? asks Liz. The first time I met her, she was saying mean things about Burke Devlin, and I told her to shut up and Burke made me apologize, explains David. For once, Burke was right, says Liz. Is she going to be my jailer? asks David. Don't be silly, of course she's not going to be your jailer, but our housekeeper, says Liz. Does she know about the ghosts? asks David. There ARE no ghosts, says Liz, and I will not have you trying to frighten people by telling them these foolish things. I won't have to scare her, says David, they will if they don't want he to stay here--you'll see. Oh, David, sighs Liz, not knowing what to say. David exits the room and closes the doors, leaning his back against them on the foyer side, thinking hard.
David enters the drawing room, crystal ball in hand. Matthew is cleaning the fireplace. What are you doing? asks David. Startled, Matthew tells him not to creep up on him like that. Did you think I was a ghost? asks David. Stop that kind of talk, orders Matthew. Did you? persists David. I don't talk about such things, insists Matthew. Why not--because you're scared of ghosts? asks David disdainfully. No, because I don't like crazy talk, says Matthew. David sits down on the fireplace seat. Do you like her? asks David. Who? asks Matthew. Her, Mrs. Johnson, says David. I don't know her, says Matthew. I don't know her, either, says David, but I don't like her--she looks mean! Your Aunt Elizabeth wants you to be nice to her, says Matthew so you be nice to her. I don't know--maybe I should try, says David airily. You should try to do everything your Aunt Elizabeth wants you to, says Matthew. Not because of my Aunt Elizabeth, says David, because of my best friend--he likes her, so maybe I should try to like her, too. (Wonder what Matthew would say if he knew the identity of David's best friend, and that Burke likes Mrs. Johnson.) That's right, agrees Matthew. Mrs. Johnson comes in, bearing a tray, saying she's been looking all over for David. Why? he asks. I fixed your lunch, she says--Mrs. Stoddard asked me to before she went on her walk. I never eat lunch on a tray, says David, I usually eat in the dining room or kitchen. Well, I thought you might like a little change, she says--I fixed you a ham sandwich, Mrs. Stoddard says that's your favorite. Thanks, says David, sitting on the sofa in front of the table. See you don't spill, commands Matthew. I won't, David says, putting a napkin in his lap. David takes a bite of his sandwich. Sarah picks up the crystal ball and asks what it is. He tells her. What do you see in that? she asks. Nothing right now, he says, but sometimes it tells me things. Oh? she asks, what kind of things? I can't tell you, he says, drinking his milk, they're secrets. I bet you know a lot of secrets, she says, working on gaining his confidence. I do, he says. When I was your age, says Sarah, sitting beside him on the sofa, I knew a lot of secrets, too! Did you? asks David. Oh, yes, she says, there was this deserted house down the road from where we lived, and I used to go there and go into rooms nobody ever went into--and I always called them my secret rooms. There are secret rooms in this house, too, he reveals. Oh, in the attic? she asks. Yes, says David. In the East Wing? She asks. Yes, he says. And the basement? She grills, smiling. That, too, says David. What do you see in those rooms? She asks. If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret anymore, says David--but I've seen things that if you knew about them, they'd scare you. You're just trying to frighten an old lady, chuckles Sarah. No I'm not, he says, I really have seen things--do you believe in ghosts? Do you? she asks. I asked you first, he says. No I don't, she replies firmly. You will,, just wait and see, he says, biting into his sandwich. Is that what you see in those rooms--ghosts? she asks. And other secret things, he says. Shame on you for trying to fool me, she chides him. I'm not trying to fool you, he insists--you wait and see. Matthew exits the kitchen, listening. I bet there's nothing in that East Wing except a lot of dusty rooms, says Sarah, and nothing in the basement except old furniture and trunks with old clothes in them.
Matthew stands by the open doors, frowning, and when he hears David tells Mrs. Johnson that there's lots, lots more, he sharply calls, David! Now who's creeping up? asks David. Take your tray into the kitchen, orders Matthew, you're making a mess. I'm not, says David. Do as I say! says Matthew. All right, says David, and carries out his tray, smiling at them as he leaves. If you're going to talk about mess, says Sarah, that mess of the fireplace is the real mess you've made--I'll have to clean that up before Mrs. Stoddard gets back. (Oooh, servant rivalry!) Mrs. Johnson, what were you askin' the boy questions for? demands Matthew. Questions, I was just making conversation, protests Sarah. We don't like people askin' questions around here, says Matthew, you better remember that. I told you, I was just talking to the boy, she says
--you giving me orders?--I take my orders from Mrs. Stoddard! I'm not ordering ya, I'm warning ya, he says, don't ask anymore questions--you'll be sorry if you do! She gives him a dirty look and slowly walks from the drawing room, but she turns and gazes back at him before continuing on. Matthew looks at her, an ugly scowl on his face.
10:50 PM - A strong wind blows outside as Liz closes the window in the drawing room. She sits down with a book and commences to read. The front door opens and Matthew comes in. Liz rises. I finished checking the grounds, he says, is there anything else you want me to do? No, it's late, she says, go to bed. Is everybody in? he asks. Carolyn got in a little while ago, she says. (Bed check?) Then I'll lock up for the night, he says. I'll see you in the morning, says Liz. Matthew comes back--I've got to speak to ya, it's important, he says--it's about her, that Mz. Johnson--don't think you can trust her, you can't--I come in here this afternoon and caught her asking David lots of questions about the house--she wanted to know what was in the locked up rooms in the basement. In the basement? Repeats Liz, leaning forward. She's pokin' her nose in where it's none of her business, insists Matthew. Well, Liz says, smiling, everyone is curious about this house, it would be strange if she weren't--I see no reason why that would make her not trustworthy. It does to me, says Matthew, I don't like people coming around here asking lots of questions, meddling where they shouldn't meddle.
You don't like Mrs. Johnson, do you? asks Liz. No, I don't he says, I don't trust her--you'd be wise to feel the same! Mr. Malloy trusted her implicitly, says Liz, that's good enough for me. The clock strikes 11. Keep an eye on her, advises Matthew, I'm telling you that for your own sake. Is that what you wanted to speak to me about? she asks. Yes, ma'am, he says. Then I'll say good night, I'm very tired, says Liz. Good night, says Matthew. Liz turns off the lamps in the drawing room as the clock continues to strike. She goes upstairs.
The clock strikes 3 AM. Mrs. Johnson creeps downstairs into the basement, a flashlight in her hand. She is drawn to the locked door, and examines the lock carefully, shining the light on it. She picks up a basket, looks in a barrel, checks out some rags in a box. She looks into another barrel, into a cigar box, another cardboard box, another barrel. She searches in nooks and crannies, and cries out when a hand reaches out to take her wrist. It's David, sitting inside a crate, and he looks steadily at her.
David! cries Mrs. Johnson. I scared you, didn't I? he asks triumphantly. You certainly did, she says, what on earth are you doing prowling around here this time of night? I have my reasons, says David--what are your reasons? I heard a noise and came down to see what it was, she explains, it was probably you--is there a light here anywhere? It's up there, says David, and she turns on the overhead light, proclaiming it a little bit better, anyway--now--what are you doing down here? I came to see a ghost, he says. That's nonsense, she says. It's true, he insists, I saw in my crystal ball that a ghost was going to appear tonight. Well I saw in my crystal ball that you'd better be upstairs and sleeping in 10 seconds if you know what's good for you, she says. Is it going to be good for you if my Aunt Elizabeth finds out you've been down here--she told you not to go NEAR the basement. (He's so good--and so bad!) I don't recall her saying any such thing, says Sarah. She must have, says David, she tells everybody that. I have a good reason to be here, she says, I heard a noise and came to investigate it, it's as simple as that. Is it? he asks. I don't have to stand here and give explanations to you, young man, she says firmly--just march yourself right up to bed! You know, I might not tell my Aunt Elizabeth that you were down here, says David thoughtfully. Why not? she asks. Because you're a friend of Burke Devlin's, he says. This disturbs her. What a strange thing to say, what gave you that idea? she asks.
He likes you, says David, he told me to be nice to you--he even made me apologize to you. That doesn't mean anything, she says--you heard what I said to him the other day--when I told him that if not for him, Mr. Malloy would still be alive? You may have said that, David agrees, but I don't think you meant it. Why? she demands. Because, Burke didn't get angry, and if you had meant it, Burke would have been angry, says David. Well, says Sarah, this is not the time or place to discuss Burke Devlin--you just get up to bed. Burke could have sent you here, says David (how does he know?)--you could be spying for him! That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my life, she says, walking away from him. If you are, I don't care, David assures her, I'm even glad!--Burke's my friend, and he's out to get my father--and I hope he does--because I hate my father, and I hope he dies. What a terrible thing to say, Sarah tells him. I'll make a bargain with you, says David. I don't make bargains with little boys, she says. If you don't tell that I was down here, I won't tell that you were down here, he says. I told you, I don't make bargains, she says--now it's way past your bedtime, go up to bed. But I haven't seen the ghost yet, he protests. I mean it, she says, to bed, right now! OK, he says, but remember what I said--I'll stick to my part of the bargain if you'll stick to yours. (This kid has a promising future in politics!) After David goes up, Sarah continues to search the basement. Giving up, she starts to leave, but hears the same sound of a woman sobbing that Vicki heard. Who is it? calls Sarah, but there is no answer. She goes to the locked door and asks who's in there. She knocks. The sobbing continues. Who's in there? calls Sarah.
She looks at the lock. The crying stops. She backs away from the door and hurries upstairs, giving the door a last glance as she leaves.
NIOTES: So, on her first night, Sarah Johnson is introduced to the crying woman at Collinwood. Who is it? A ghost, as David said? Or a human being sobbing, heartbroken? Can you believe the nerve of David? Making a bargain with an adult that way? I won't tell if you won't tell! This kid has quite a future in front of him, either as a career criminal or a politician--or perhaps a lawyer!
Matthew may hate having Mrs. Johnson at Collinwood, but he orders David to accept her because it's what Liz wants. I don't know about Ned Calder, but who else is more loyal to Liz than Matthew? Sounds like he's got it bad, even if he doesn't agree with her.
Sarah is already spying, questioning David about the "secret" rooms--basement, attic, East Wing--places Liz warned her to keep away from. And she already made an early morning visit to the basement to check things out--and was caught by David. Will she unearth the secret Liz is trying so hard to keep? Or will Matthew strangle her to death before she spends another night at Collinwood? Already her cover is blown--David has smoothly figured out that Sarah is Burke's spy; Matthew doesn't trust her based on one little inquisition he overheard between her and David. Once again, I sense repressed fury in Matthew, a determination to protect Liz and all she holds dear--no matter what the sacrifice.
Love, Robin
