Читать книгу The Girl in the Cellar - Dora Amy Elles - Страница 5

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She could never remember much about that journey. When she thought about it afterwards it resolved itself into something like a dream. There was the swaying of the train and the warmth of the carriage. Those two things she remembered, but nothing more. She thought that she slept a little, and woke again in a panic of fear lest she should have passed her station. And after that she stayed awake, but nothing felt real except the rushing of the train and the darkness close up against the windows. It was as if she was in a closed-in space and she was safe as long as she was there. Only she mustn’t rely upon this safety and fall asleep again.

The other people in the carriage came and went. The train stopped a good deal. Haleycott was a little place. Anything that stopped there would stop at a great many other places too. There was an elderly woman who looked at her very hard, and a young one, gay and laughing with a boy of her own age. They got out, and two other people got in, a woman and a child of about six.

And then they were at Haleycott. Anne got to her feet. She looked about her for her hat-box.

There wasn’t any hat-box.

And then she got out on to the platform and stood there with the most terribly lost feeling she had ever had. The train she had left was leaving her. She was a stranger in a strange place. A feeling of utter desolation swept over her, and then, hard upon it, something stronger. It was like the sun coming out. There, on the dim platform with the darkness crowding in, the light began to shine inside her. She stopped being afraid. She stopped thinking of all the things that might be going to happen. Her shoulders straightened up. She began to walk along the little station platform as if she had known it all her life, as if she was coming home.

There was a cab and she got into it. She said no, there was no luggage, and she gave the address that was on the letter in her bag. And then they were off.

She didn’t know what she thought of whilst they were driving. She didn’t know whether she thought of anything at all. When she thought about it afterwards there was only that feeling of a rising sun. There were good things that were going to happen in the coming day. It was a strange thing, but it did not seem strange to her, it felt perfectly natural.

The wheels went round, and presently the wheels stopped. She got out, paid the man, and pulled the old-fashioned bell. It was not quite dark here. She could see the shape of the door and the line of the house with the small yellow lamps of the waiting taxi.

And then the hall door moved. At once she stepped forward. It was as if the opening of the door was like the rising of the curtain in a theatre, a signal for the play to begin. A woman stood there. She wore a brown dress and an apron. She had a quantity of grey hair. She said,

“Oh, Mrs. Jim!” And then she turned and called over her shoulder, “Oh, Miss Lilian, it’s Mrs. Jim!” Then, with a quick turn back to the door, she put out both her hands and said in a warm, full voice, “Oh, my dear—what a coming home to be sure! But come you in—come you in!”

The taxi rolled away behind her and was gone. She walked into the hall of the house and saw Lilian Fancourt coming down the stair at the far end of it.

She knew who it was. That was one of the things that you think about afterwards. At the time there was no place for thought. Things kept happening.

Lilian Fancourt came down the stair with her hands out in welcome. Everything about her said the word. Everything about her said what wasn’t true. She came forward, she reached up, put her little hands on the tall girl’s shoulders and kissed her, and it was all like a scene from a play. There was no reality in it.