Chapter 8

I suddenly felt overwhelmed as I ran from that horrible place to the morning room, full of Rebecca's letters, address book with her initial and all her belongings surrounding me, boxing me in. I could feel hot tears falling down my face before I knew I was crying and I was determined that she wouldn't win. I called the house phone for Mrs Danvers and started frantically removing letters from the desk drawers, spotting a letter from Jack Favell reminding me of that annoying visitor from earlier. I knew what I had to do.

"Mrs Danvers," I said as she entered, "I want all these things removed," indicating the letters and objects on the desk.

"But these belong to Mrs Anderson," she said indignantly, looking me up and down almost in disgust that I would even dream of such a thing.

"I live here now and wish to use this room. She has the west wing, that will do."

"Very well," she said flatly, determined to do her duty but her hatred was clear.

As I walked towards the door I assured her I would not tell Blaine about Jack's earlier visit and that I wanted no mention of anything that happened today. I could not bear the thought that Blaine would know how much she had affected me. As I went to leave, I heard a rustle at the door and realised Blaine had returned from London and I couldn't help myself, I ran to him and almost flung myself at him.

"You've been gone all day," I said, as Blaine hugged me close by the waist.

"Oh Kurt," he said as he breathed me in, brushing his lips along my neck, "I've missed you."

"How could you think that I would not want your company for today?" I said sadly, revealing the hurt he had caused by his letter. He looked upon me sadly.

"Well what have you been doing with your day?" he asked as we walked to the study.

"Nothing much," I answered, "But I do have an idea. What about putting on a costume ball for the people around Manderley like you used to? It would make people aware that you are entertaining again, just like before."

"I don't know," Blaine said, looking anxious, "You know you'll be host to the entire neighbourhood and the whole county? Hundreds will be here."

"I know but it will give me something to plan while you're busy and I can be useful to you, thinking of ways to make Manderley visible again. I can design our costumes too." I couldn't contain my excitement at the thought and Blaine smiled warmly at my enthusiasm.

"Well I can't say no now, can I?" Blaine said laughing, "I don't think I'll ever be able to refuse you anything."

"Good," I said, "What do you think you'll wear?" I asked happily.

"Oh I only wear a suit and tie to these events, that is the great privilege of being the host," Blaine said, smiling as he pulled me closer and kissed me sweetly on the lips. I felt myself melt against him and could only smile that I would be doing and planning something so enjoyable. I was to be so sorely disappointed.

xXx

I sketched possible outfits for days; screwing up many designs in frustration as I thought of so many ideas that I knew wouldn't be suitable. I wanted to dazzle, I wanted to impress. I knew that people would be wondering who I was, why Mr. Anderson needed a secretary and what the fuss was all about. I wanted to show them how good I was for Blaine, how useful and my outfit had to reflect me in my best possible light.

As I was sketching another design on my bed one day, Mrs Danvers came in brandishing my crumpled designs from the morning room and asking whether I intended to throw them away. I told her that I had.

"Are you thinking of your costume for the ball?" she asked.

"Yes, I want to surprise Blaine."

"Have you seen the portraits over the landing? They may give inspiration."

"Thank you," I whispered, still suspicious of any kindness from her, "I will look."

She followed me along the portraits and pointed out family members who were considered important and regal. She drew my attention to an upright man, in a simple suit with chequered design. He had represented the Scottish side of the family and he looked so distinguished and different from the others that I immediately warmed to the idea.

"I have heard Mr Anderson remark that that is one of his favourite portraits," Mrs Danvers said and I seized the idea, thinking it would be such a great surprise to Blaine.

As planning continued I didn't allow anyone to see my costume, not even Blaine's sister Beatrice who came to inquire of me before the guests arrived. I was nervous but so excited as the costume was finally fitted to me and I looked at the portrait one last time to determine how much of a likeness it was and how I had designed it perfectly to suit my frame.

I descended the majestic stairs, my hands shaking and I could see the backs of Blaine, his sister and her husband at the foot of the stairs. I swooped in behind them and timidly called out "Mr Anderson," and Blaine turned.

His face I shall never forget, such horror and then hatred as he looked at me, my heart sunk and panic filled my chest.

"Rebecca," whispered Beatrice, her face also a picture of horror and Blaine came towards me.

"What have you done?" he looked so disgusted at me that I wanted to sink and slide away.

"I don't know Blaine, what do you mean?" I stammered out as I tried to ease the situation, do anything to stop this.

"Just change," he said, turning his disgusted face away, "Just change!" he shouted, "Didn't you hear me?"

"Yes, Blaine, I…" I ran up the stairs as fast as the tight trousers would allow.

As I went to enter my room and sob, I saw Mrs Danvers flit away to the west wing and I knew, I knew she had set me up, made this happen. Anger boiled in my veins and I followed her.

"You knew!" I spat at her as she stood by the bed, tending to Rebecca's night clothes.

"Yes, I saw you enter, saw you go down the stairs, just like she did before you. She thought it was so daring to dress as a man to a costume ball. Even in the same outfit you couldn't compare."

"But why? Why do you hate me? What have I ever done to you?" I shouted.

"Because you tried to take her place. I've seen his face, his eyes, I know how haunted he was after she died, how tortured and alone he felt. I used to listen to him walking up and down, night after night tortured because he'd lost her." She got closer, her words faster, tumbling out of her evil mouth. I backed away, stopped by a pillar in the middle of the room and felt the tears prickling at my eyes, tried to stop them falling.

"I don't want to know," I kept repeating to her, urging her to stop.

"You thought you could replace her?" She said, her voice scathing, "Live in her house, walk in her steps, take the things that were hers but she's too strong for you, you can't fight her, no one ever got the better of her, never, never. She was beaten in the end but it wasn't a man that did it, it was the sea." I walked away again, edging further and further from her hideous hold over me, her voice trying to catch me, to trap me and ensnare me. She followed still. I edged closer to the bed as my tears finally overflowed and I sobbed, begging her to stop as I fell on the bed, face down on a pillow with Rebecca's initial.

"You're overwrought," she said calmly, "I've opened a window, maybe you could use some air."

I wandered towards the window, desperate to breathe again and to be away from that pillow, from that woman and her presence.

"Why don't you leave? Leave Manderley and never come back?" She was saying, nearly whispering by my ear as I grabbed onto the curtain desperately. "He doesn't need you, he's got his memories," she continued, "You've nothing to stay for, you've nothing to live for really have you? Look down there," she indicated the misty clouds beneath the window. They seemed to swirl and cloud the ground below, almost like a fluffy pillow and I suddenly felt myself drifting towards it. I knew I would be safe there, it would catch me and I would be free.

She kept talking, whispering, asking me to fall, saying I shouldn't be afraid but as I looked the mist below seemed to clear. I could see the paving, the wrought iron gates and as I focused on those objects, feeling myself slowly drift back to life, there was a sudden flare in the sky. A warning.

"A ship on the rocks!" someone below shouted and I stepped away from the window. There was a crowd below, people rushing out of the house to see, to find out what had happened.

"A ship on the rocks!" was shouted again and I could see Blaine below, having his coat put on by Robert and other men ran to the shore. I shouted but no one could hear me from up there so I backed away from Mrs Danvers again and prepared to join them at the beach.

xXx

After I had changed I walked briskly to the beach, a crowd was gathered and I couldn't see Blaine anywhere but I soon stumbled upon Ben, who was sitting there on a rock, his eyes protruding and he startled me.

"Ben have you see Mr Anderson?" I asked him.

"She won't come back will she?" he asked wildly, his eyes begging for an answer but I walked away and soon found Frank.

"Frank, have you seen Blaine?"

"Not for half an hour or so, I thought he'd gone back to the house."

"No, he wasn't there, I worry something might have happened to him."

Frank looked at me carefully then, worry lines etched on his face and I felt a deep unease enter and settle in my stomach as the smell of the water rose and filled my nostrils.

"Frank what is it?"

"It's the boat they found under the other boat, it's…"

"It's hers isn't it?" I whispered.

"Yes," Frank looked down.

"It'll bring it all back for Blaine, all the memories," I finished for him, and I couldn't help but wish they hadn't found it. That she had remained where she was, at the bottom of the sea in peace.

Frank said he would get breakfast ready for the men and I went on with my search for Blaine. As I wandered I noticed the light on in the cottage I had stumbled upon a few weeks ago on the beach and I went towards it, drawn to it, hoping again for answers.

As I entered, the door creaking, I saw Blaine sat in the big armchair in the corner of the cabin, wrapped in his big winter coat and staring blankly ahead. He seemed to blink and refocus upon my entering and he saw me.

"Blaine," I said, rushing to him and he smiled as if it might be the last time he would get to see me. "Everyone is looking for you."

"Oh I see," he looked away in the distance again, unfocused, unsure.

"Have you forgiven me yet?" I asked timidly and Blaine looked up, clearly perplexed. "About the costume…"

"Oh I was angry with you wasn't I?" he said, as if that was a different age and it was silly to think on such matters after all that had happened. "I'd forgotten," he said simply.

"Oh I do hope we can start again Blaine, I do hope that even if you can't love me, that I can still stay here. I'll be a companion, anything." I heard myself beg and hated myself for it but I knew I would do anything for Blaine, to have him near.

"You love me very much, don't you?" he said, surprise in his voice as he rose from the chair and hugged me close.

"Of course Blaine, I would do anything for you; I hate to see you so upset."

"I don't deserve you; you couldn't possibly say all that after you knew."

"Knew what?"

"You see it's not just an ordinary boat that they discovered."

"I know," I said, "Frank told me they discovered Rebecca's boat and it will bring it all up again for you my dear. I am sorry."

"Not just the boat," Blaine said sadly, looking down at our entwined hands as he sat back down again in the chair. I nestled between his knees. "They found a body under the cabin."

"A body?"

"Yes, Rebecca's body, which means the body that is buried under her tombstone, is not Rebecca's."

"But I don't understand," I began.

"I knew it wasn't her body when I identified it at the morgue. I knew yet I still said it was hers. I know that body in that boat is hers now, because I put it there myself," he said finally. He suddenly looked up at my wide eyes and smiled sadly.

"You see, you cannot possibly love me now."

I got up and retreated, my eyes starting to wobble, tears threatening to fall. I walked backwards, still staring, looking at him, hoping it wasn't true. I stood in the doorway and felt my world crumple as Blaine sat still in the chair, looking at his hands.