The Woman in the Mirror by Rebecca James

Author:Rebecca James
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

* * *

The private reprimand I am hoping for doesn’t arrive; instead, we are all of us present when the captain sees the excavated mirror, and all of us are subject to his anger.

Anger, though, is not nearly the right word. Instead the captain receives our find as if absorbing a blow to the stomach: quiet, controlled and steady.

“Constance wishes to keep it here, in the hall,” I say. “Could we?”

The captain eyes each of us in turn. I can hear Mrs. Yarrow’s protests without her needing to speak: “It weren’t me, Captain, I didn’t want anything to do with it, it’s a horrible thing anyway; forgive me, Captain, it were the children’s doing, the children and her!” He watches the mirror carefully, as if it is an old adversary.

“Is that right, Constance?”

The children no longer hold my hands; they have stepped away from me. Edmund’s glance flits over me: a shiver of conspiracy passes through the hallway then disappears. “Mummy used to brush her hair in it,” says Constance faintly.

The captain’s shoulders drop, surrendering to a great exhale.

“Very well,” he says, “you may keep it above stairs. But not here.” He doesn’t have to say: Not here where I can see it. Not here where I must be reminded of her.

“In Alice’s room,” says Constance, as if this has been the plan all along.

Startled, I turn to her.

“Alice will take the mirror,” she goes on, and there is that quiver of collusion again; I cannot put my finger on it. “Then we can see it any time we like. Alice will look perfect in it. Don’t you think, Father? It’s a waste for it to be hidden away.”

“Come now, children,” I object, “I wouldn’t assume—”

“If she wishes it,” says the captain, meeting my eye with his cold blue glare.

I cannot speak. The mirror observes me. The children are pleased.

Tom lifts the glass with some effort. Leaving behind our companions, we take it to my room. “Is here all right?” he asks, settling it by the window.

“That’s fine. Thank you, Tom.”

Before he leaves, he asks, “You’re sure about this, miss?”

“It is the children’s wish,” I answer; “I am happy to entertain it.”

“Mrs. de Grey used to love that mirror.” He hesitates. “She’d be in front of it every day—obsessed, she was—brushing her hair or admiring the new clothes the captain bought for her. But she hated it by the end. She weren’t at all keen on it by then. Said it gave her a fright.”

“Well, I’m not about to let a rusted antique do such a thing to me.”

“Of course not, miss.”

I am relieved when he goes and I am alone, looking at myself in the glass and liking how it makes a grander person of me. I find myself smiling, despite the strain of the morning, and a warm beam of sunshine pools on the floor around my ankles.

Oh, but that is a most peculiar thing.

The painting on the wall has changed. I move closer, to make sure, and when I see what has happened I gasp, blood rising in my chest.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.