THE ETERNAL TWILIGHT

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    In my study I transcribed; in the garden I wandered; in my bedroom I stroked the cat and held off my nightmares by staying awake. The moonlit night when I had seen Emmeline appear in the garden seemed like a dream to me now, for the sky had closed in again, and we were immersed once more in the ewilight.

    With the deaths of the Missus and now John-the-dig, an additional chill crept into Miss Winter’s story. Was it Emmelihat alarming figure in the garden—who had tampered with the ladder? I could only wait ahe story reveal itself. Meanwhile, with December waxing, the shadow h at my window grew always more intense. Her closeness repelled me, her distance broke my heart, every sight of her evoked ihe familiar bination of fear and longing.

    I got to the library in advaniss Winter—m or afternoon or evening, I don’t know, they were all the same by now—and stood by the window to wait. My pale sister pressed her fio mirapped me in her impl gaze, misted the glass with her cool breath. I only had to break the glass, and I could join her.

    ‘Whatever are you looking at?“ came Miss Winter’s voice behind me.

    Slowly I turned.

    ‘Sit down,“ she barked at me. Then, ”Judith, put an on the fire, would you, and then bring this girl something to eat.“ I sat down.

    Judith brought cocoa and toast. Miss Winter tinued her story while I sipped at the hot cocoa.

    ‘I’ll help you,“ he said. But what could he do? He was just a boy.

    I got him out of the way. I sent him to fetch Dr. Maudsley, and while he was gone I made strong, sweet tea and drank a potful. I thought hard thoughts and I thought them quickly. By the time I was at the dregs, the prick of tears had quite retreated from my eyes. It was time for a.

    By the time the boy returned with the doctor, I was ready. The moment I heard their steps approag the house, I turhe er to meet them.

    ‘Emmeline, poor child!“ the doctor exclaimed as he came near, hand outstretched in a sympathetic gesture, as though to embrace me.

    I took a step back, and he halted. “Emmeline?” In his eyes, uainty flared. Adeli was not possible. It could not be. The name died on his lips. “Five me,” he stammered. But still he did not know.

    I did not help him out of his fusion. Instead I cried.

    Not real tears. My real tears—and I had plenty of them, believe me—were all stored up. Sometime, tonight or tomorrow or sometime soon, I did ly know when, I would be alone and I would cry for hours. For John. For me. I would cry out loud, shrieking my tears, the way I used to cry as a little girl when only John could soothe me, stroking my hair with hands that smelled of tobacd the garden. Hot, ugly tears they would be, and when the end came—if it came— my eyes would be so puffed up I would have only red-rimmed slits to see out of.

    But those were private tears, and not for this man. The tears I gratified him with were fake ones. Oo set off my greehe way diamonds set off emeralds. And it worked. If you dazzle a man with green eyes, he will be so hypnotized that he won’t notice there is someone ihe eyes spying on him.

    ‘I’m afraid there’s nothing I  do for Mr. Digence,“ he said, rising from beside the body.

    It was odd to<tt>.t> hear John’s real name.

    ‘However did it happen?“ He looked up at the balustrade where John had been w, the over the ladder. ”Did the safety catch fail?“

    I could look at the corpse without emotion, almost. “Might he have slipped?” I wondered aloud. “Did he grab at the ladder as he fell and bring it down after him?”

    ‘No one saw him fall?“

    ‘Our rooms are at the other side of the house, and the boy was in the vegetable garden.“ The boy stood slightly apart from us, looking away from the body.

    ‘Hmm. There is no family, I seem to remember.“

    ‘He always lived quite alone.“

    ‘I see. And where is your uncle? Why is he not here to meet me?“

    I had no idea what John had told the boy about our situation. I had to play it by ear.

    With a sob to my voice, I told the doctor that my uncle had gone away.

    ‘Away!“ The doctor frowned.

    The boy did not reaothing to surprise him so far, theood looking at his feet so as not to look at the corpse, and I had time to think him a sissy befoing on to say, “My uncle won’t be back for a few days.”

    ‘How many days?“

    ‘Oh! Now, when was it exactly he went away… ?“ I frowned and made a little pretense of ting back the days. Then, allowing my eyes to rest on the corpse, I let my knees quiver.

    The doctor and the boy both leaped to my side, taking an elbow each.

    ‘All right. Later, my dear, later.“

    I permitted them to lead me around the house toward the kit door.

    ‘I don’t kly what to do!“ I said as we rouhe er.

    ‘About what, exactly?“

    ‘The funeral.“

    ‘You don’t o do anything. I will arrahe uakers, and the vicar will take care of the rest.“

    ‘But what about the money?“

    ‘Your uncle will settle that wheurns. Where is he, by the way?

    ‘But what if he should be delayed?“

    ‘You think it likely he will be delayed?“

    ‘He’s an… uable man.“

    ‘Indeed.“ The boy opehe kit door, and the duided me in and pulled out a chair. I collapsed into it.

    ‘The solicitor will sort out anything that needs doing, if it es to it. Now, where is your sister? Does she know what’s happened?“

    I didn’t bat an eyelid. “She is sleeping.”

    ‘Just as well. Let her sleep, perhaps, eh?“

    I nodded.

    ‘Now, who  look after you while you’re on your own here, then?“

    ‘Look after us?“

    ‘You  hardly stay here on your own… Not after this. It was rash of your uo leave you in the first place so soon after losing your housekeeper and without finding a replat. Someone must e.“

    ‘Is it really necessary?“ I was all tears and green eyes; Emmeline wasn’t the only one who knew how to be womanly.

    ‘Well, surely you—“

    ‘It’s just that the last time someone came to take care of us— You do remember overness, don’t you?“ And I flashed him a look so mean and so quick he could hardly believe he’d seen it. He had the grace to blush and looked away. When he looked back, I was nothing but emeralds and diamonds again.

    The boy cleared his throat. “My grandmother could e and look in, sir. Not to stay like, but she could e every day, just for a bit.”

    Dr.<dfn></dfn> Maudsley, discerted, sidered. It was a way out, and he was looking for a way out.

    ‘Well, Ambrose, I think that would be the ideal arra. In the short term, at least. And no doubt your uncle will be ba a very few days, in which case there will be no need, as you say, to, her, to—“

    ‘Indeed.“ I rose smoothly from my chair. ”So if you will see to the uakers, I will see the vicar.“ I held out my hand. ”Thank you for ing so quickly.“

    The man had lost his footiirely. He rose to his feet at my prompt, and I felt the brief touch of his fingers in mihey were sweaty.

    Once again he searched in my fay name. Adeline or Emmeline? Emmeline or Adeline? He took the only way out. “I’m sorry about Mr. Digeruly I am, Miss March.”

    ‘Thank you, Doctor.“ And I hid my smile behind a veil of tears.

    Dr. Maudsley  the boy on his way out and closed the door behind him.

    Now for the boy himself.

    I waited for the doctor to get away, then opehe door and ihe boy to gh it. “By the way,” I said as he reached the threshold, in a voice that showed I was mistress of the house, “there’s no need for yrandmother to e in.”

    He gave me a curious look. Here was one who saw the green eyes and the girl ihem.

    ‘Just as well,“ he said with a casual touch to the brim of his cap, ”since I haven’t got a grandmother.“

    ***‘I’ll help you,“ he had said, but he was only a boy. He did know how to drive a car, though.

    The  day he drove us to the solicitor in Banbury, I beside him and Emmeline behind. After a quarter of an hour waiting uhe eye of a receptionist, we were finally asked into Mr. Lomax’s office. He looked at Emmeline and he looked at me and he said, “o ask who you two are.”

    ‘We’re in something of a quandary,“ I explained. ”My uncle is absent, and ardener has died. It was an act. A tragic act, since he has no family and has worked for us forever, I do feel the family should pay for the funeral, only we are a little short…“

    His eyes veered from me to Emmeline and back again.

    ‘Please excuse my sister. She is not quite well.“ Emmeline did indeed look odd. I had let her dress in her outmoded finery, and her eyes were so full of beauty to leave room for anything so mundane as intelligence.

    ‘Yes,“ said Mr. Lomax, and he lowered his voice a sympathetic half-tone. ”I had heard something to that effect.“

    Responding to his kindness, I leaned over the desk and fided, and of course, with my uncle—well, you’ve had dealings with him, so you’ll know, won’t you? Things are not always terribly easy there, either.“ I offered him my most transparent stare. ”In fact, it’s a real treat to talk to someone sensible for a ge!“

    He turhe rumors he had heard over in his mind. One of the twins was not quite right, they said. Well, he cluded, clearly no flies the other one.

    ‘The pleasure is entirely mutual, Miss, er, five me, but what was your father’s name again?“

    ‘The name you are after is March. But we have bee used to being known by our mother’s he Angelfield twins, they call us in the village. No one remembers Mr. March, especially us. We never had the eet him, you see. And we have no dealings at all with his family. I have often thought it would be better to ge our names formally.

    ‘ be done. Why not? Simple matter, really.“

    ‘But that’s for another day. Today’s business…“

    ‘Of course. Now let me put your mind at rest about this funeral. You don’t know when your uncle will be back, I take it?“

    ‘It may be quite some time,“ I said, which was ly a lie.

    ‘It doesn’t matter. Either he will be ba time to settle the expenses himself, or if he is not, then I will settle it on his behalf and sort things out when he es home.“

    I turned my fato the picture of relief he was looking for, and while he was still warm with the pleasure of having been able to take the load off my mind, I plied him with a dozeions about what would happen if a girl like me, having the responsibility of a sister like mine, should have the misfortune of mislaying her guardian food. In a few words he explaihe whole situation to me, and I saw clearly the steps I would have to take and how soon I would o take them. “Not that any of this applies to you, in your position!” he cluded, as if he had quite run away with himself in painting this alarming sario and wished he could take back three quarters of what he had said. “After all, your uncle will be back with you in a few short days.”

    ‘God willing!“ I beamed at him.

    We were at the door when Mr. Lomax remembered the essential thing.

    ‘Ially, I don’t suppose he left an address?“

    ‘You know my uncle!“

    ‘I thought as much. You do knoroximately where he is, though?“

    I liked Mr. Lomax, but it didn’t stop me lying to him when I had to. Lying was sed nature to a girl like me.

    ‘Yes… that is, no.“

    He gave me a serious look. “Because if you don’t know where he is…” His miuro all the legalities he had just eed for me.

    ‘Well, I  tell you where he said he was going.“

    Mr. Lomax looked at me, eyebrows raised.

    ‘He said he was going to Peru.“

    Mr. Lomax’s rounded eyes bulged, and his mouth dropped open.

    ‘But of course, we both know that’s ridiculous, don’t we?“ I finished. ”He ’t possibly be in Peru,  he?“

    And with my most reassured, most pluckily capable smile, I closed the door behind me, leaving Mr. Lomax to worry on my behalf.

    The day of the funeral came and still I hadn’t had a ce to cry. Every day there had been something. First the vicar, then villagers arriving warily at the door, wanting to know about wreaths and flowers; even Mrs. Maudsley came, polite but cold, as though I were somehow tainted with Hester’s crime. “Mrs. Proctor, the boy’s grandmother, has been a marvel,” I told her. “Do thank your husband fgesting it.”

    Through it all I suspected that the Proctor boy was keeping a<cite>?</cite>n eye ihough I could never quite catch him at it.

    John’s funeral wasn’t the place to cry, either. It was the very last place. For I was Miss Angelfield, and who was he? Only the gardener. At the end of the service, while the vicar eaking kindly, uselessly, to Emmeline—Would she like to attend church more frequently? God’s love was a blessing to all his creatures—I listeo Mr. Lomax and Dr. Maudsley, who thought themselves out of earshot behind my back.

    ‘A petent girl,“ the solicitor said to the doctor. ”I don’t think le quite realizes the gravity of the situatio<cite></cite>n; you realize no one knows here the uncle is? But when she does, I’ve no doubt she’ll cope. I’ve it things in train to sort out the money side of things. She was worried lout paying for the gardener’s funeral, of all things. A ki to go with the wise head on her shoulders.“

    ‘Yes,“ said the doctor weakly.

    ‘I was always uhe impression—don’t know where it came from, mind you—that the two of them were… not quite right. But now I’ve met them it’s plain as day that it’s only the one of them afflicted. A mercy. Of course, you’ll have known how it was all along, being their doctor.“

    The dourmured something I did not hear.

    ‘What’s that?“ the solicitor asked. ”Mist, did you say?“

    There was no a.99ｌｉｂ? solicitor asked another question. “Whie is which, though? I never did find out when they came to see me. What is the name of the one who is sensible?”

    I turned just enough to be able to see them out of the er of my eye. The doctor was looking at me with the same expression he had had in his eyes during the whole service. Where was the dull-minded child he had kept in his house for several months? The girl who could not lift a spoon to her lips or speak a word of English, let alone give instrus for a funeral and ask intelligent questions of a solicitor. I uood the source of his bafflement.

    His eyes flickered from me to Emmeline, from Emmelio me.

    ‘I think it’s Adeline.“ I saw his lips form the name, and I smiled as all his medical theories and experiments came tumbling down about his feet.

    Catg his eye, I raised my hand to the pair of them. A gracious gesture of thanks to them for ing to the funeral of a man they hardly knew in order to be of servie. That’s what the solicitor took it for. The doay have taken it rather differently.

    Later. Many hours later.

    The funeral over, at last I could cry.

    Except that I couldn’t. My tears, kept in too long, had fossilized.

    They would have to stay in forever now.

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