The Black Swan

I was very sorry for her ... for Bobby, too. Perhaps more so for him. He was such a nice young man and I should hate to see him hurt. I could picture his joy over the coming child. And, oddly enough, I thought Belinda had a fair chance of happiness with him. He was the sort of man who would be faithful and only see the beautiful, fascinating Belinda. I did wonder, though, what his reaction would be when he knew she had deceived him about her marriage to Henry Farrell. There was a knock on the door. I guessed rightly this time. It was Belinda. “I had to come and talk,” she said, sitting on the bed. “I couldn’t sleep. You will see Henry, won’t you?”

I hesitated.

“Oh yes... please say yes. I’ll be so wretched if you don’t.”

“I really don’t think it would do any good.”

“Yes, it will. Everyone listens to you. You’re clever and you’re nice. Look at your father.”

“What has he got to do with it?”

“Look how he was with you. Wasn’t he glad that you turned out to be his daughter and not me?”

“That’s not the point.”

“It is. It means you’re sensible and reasonable. People listen to you. Oh, I’m so worried. I didn’t sleep at all last night... and I shan’t tonight.”

“Oh yes, you will.”

“If you’ll promise you’ll go and see Henry ...”

“Well ... I will. But ... I don’t think it will do any good.”

“You will do it! Oh, you are an angel. Let’s go up tomorrow. He’s at a little hotel in Bayswater. Oh, thank you, Lucie. I feel so much better already. I have such faith in you.”

“It’s misplaced.”

She shook her head slowly and then suddenly saw the glass by my bed.

“What’s that?” she said.

“It’s Phillida’s nightcap. She makes us take it ... Roland and me. She says it’s good for us. It gives us a good peaceful night’s sleep, she says.”

“Does it?”

“I haven’t noticed. I usually sleep well. Roland and I take it to please her.”

She took the glass and drank the beverage.

“Sorry. I need that peaceful night’s sleep more than you do. It’s rather nice. Now I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll go up tomorrow. We can stay with Celeste. I did last night. She’s always glad to see me. Perhaps you could be with Roland. Tell him that you couldn’t be without him any longer. Then you can go and see Henry and tell him what he has to do.”

“You’re incredible, Belinda. You think you can push us around like pieces on a chess board.”

“I do nothing of the sort. But I think that if sometimes you try to make things go the way you want to, you can. And why shouldn’t you? I’ve got to make this right, Lucie ... for Bobby and the child.”

“And for Belinda herself,” I murmured.

She kissed me.

“I love you, Lucie. I can’t tell you how happy you’ve made me. I know you’ll talk to him in just the right way. You’ll make him see what has to be done.”

“Don’t hope for too much.”

“I feel so much better since I’ve talked to you. I feel I can get a good night’s sleep because it’s all going to come right now.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“Bless you, Lucie. See you in the morning. We’ll have an early start, eh?”

“Yes,” I agreed.

She turned at the door to blow a kiss. “Sleep well,” she said. And she was gone.

What had I promised, I asked myself? What good could I possibly do? Well, it was no use worrying about it. Tomorrow or the next day I would see Henry Farrell. It would, I supposed, be interesting to meet him and find out what sort of man he was.

Belinda was exhausting and I felt tired.

I blew out the candle and settled down to sleep.

I must have done so almost immediately, but suddenly I was awake. Something was happening. I could hear a strange noise. I opened my eyes and stared about me. There was a strange glow in the room. I must be dreaming. I could see the shapes of the furniture. They looked different in the strange light.

Then suddenly I was aware of the heat. I was wide awake now. I sat up and saw at once that the curtains about my bed were on fire. The acrid smell filled my nostrils. This accounted for the glow in the room. I saw a flame run right to the top of the tester.

I leaped out of bed and looked back. The curtains on one side of the bed were a mass of flames.

I ran out into the corridor, shutting the door after me, and shouted: “Fire!”

What followed was like a nightmare.

Emery was magnificent. He was a quiet man whose sterling qualities came to the fore in a crisis; and it was his presence of mind which saved what was a small incident turning into a major conflagration.

It was fortunate that I had wakened in time before the fire had taken a real hold of the bed.

Emery had been the first to hear my call and was on the spot in a matter of seconds.