Authors: John Saul
Teri paused, thinking. Perhaps she should just pretend she hadn’t heard anything at all and go to bed.
And yet she’d distinctly heard the name D’Arcy, the
same name she’d seen in Melissa’s diary early that morning. Was it possible that Melissa actually thought she was talking to someone? Making up her mind, she grasped the doorknob, turned it, and let herself into Melissa’s room.
Melissa was sitting at the vanity in the near darkness of her room, staring into the mirror. But as the stream of light from the bathroom door struck her, she turned, her eyes widening as she saw Teri.
“What are you doing home already?” she asked. “Didn’t you go to the movies?”
Teri frowned. “It’s after ten. The movie’s over.”
Melissa’s brows knit in puzzlement. “But it seems like you just left. I mean, it seems like it’s only been an hour, maybe.”
Teri moved over to the vanity. Her eyes widening as she looked at her half sister’s face, she reached over and switched on the small lamp that sat on top of the vanity.
She gasped as she saw the ruins of Melissa’s hair. “What happened?” she breathed. “What did you do to your hair?”
Her eyes brimming with tears, Melissa peered up at Teri. “I—I don’t know. I think D’Arcy must have cut it.”
“D’Arcy?” Teri asked. “Who’s D’Arcy?”
Melissa tensed, and her eyes flicked apprehensively toward the hall door. When she saw that it was safely closed, she seemed to relax slightly. “P-Promise you won’t tell?” she asked.
Teri nodded quickly, her mind suddenly tingling with anticipation.
“She—She’s a friend of mine,” Melissa said. “Sometimes she comes to help me.”
Teri’s brow furrowed. What on earth was Melissa talking about? “What do you mean? Where does she come from? Does she live around here?”
Melissa shook her head. “N-Not exactly,” she said. “She—Well, she’s sort of like an imaginary friend. You know, like the one Anne of Green Gables had, who lived in the mirror?”
Suddenly Teri smiled. “I know what you mean—I had one when I was a little girl. Her name was Caroline, and I used to pretend she was my maid. She’d do anything I wanted her to. Clean my room for me, pick up my things. All the things I hated to do. I’d pretend I was her, and she’d do all the work.”
Melissa nodded eagerly. “That’s the kind of friend D’Arcy is. When I get afraid of something, D’Arcy comes and helps me.” Her eyes shifted back to the mirror. “Only look what she did tonight,” she said, her voice quavering. “She cut off all my hair. Mama will be so angry.”
Teri’s thoughts raced as a series of images began to come into her mind.
The swimming pool that afternoon, when Phyllis had said that she and Melissa would talk about the bonfire “later.”
Melissa, just for a moment, had looked terrified.
And then again, at the dinner table, when Phyllis had suggested that she and Melissa would have an evening at home together.
Once again Melissa’s eyes had filled with panic.
It was her mother who had frightened her tonight.
Jesus, is that what she does? Teri wondered. When her mother starts yelling at her, she just pretends she’s someone else?
But then she remembered something else.
The other night, when she’d found Melissa tied to the bed, with her eyes open. She’d been sure Melissa was awake, but when she had spoken to her, Melissa hadn’t answered.
And tonight she’d thought Teri hadn’t gone to the movies.
She doesn’t remember, Teri thought. She doesn’t remember what happened at all.
Now, as she gazed at Melissa’s reflected image in the mirror, she smiled gently. “I’ll tell you what,” she said. “Let’s get a comb and some scissors, and I’ll see if I can fix your hair. And tomorrow, if Phyllis gets mad, we’ll just tell her I cut it. We’ll tell her it was all my idea, and then she can’t get mad at you, can she?”
In the mirror, Melissa’s eyes met Teri’s. “Would you really do that?” she asked. “Would you do that for me?”
Teri slipped her arms around Melissa. “Of course I would,” she said. “I’m your sister, aren’t I? Isn’t that what sisters are for?” She took the comb and scissors Melissa found in the top drawer of the vanity and began snipping carefully at her half sister’s hair, evening it out as best she could. As she worked, Melissa watched in the mirror, her eyes fixed adoringly on Teri. But then, as Teri was finishing up the trimming, her smile faded.
“What are the kids going to say tomorrow night?” she asked. “With my hair like this, they’ll all laugh at me.”
Teri cocked her head. “I thought you weren’t going to the bonfire,” she said.
Melissa was silent for several seconds, but finally shook her head. “I changed my mind,” she said. “I had to. D’Arcy’s afraid of the dark, and Mama wouldn’t let her out of the closet until I said I’d go.”
By the time she went to bed twenty minutes later, Teri was certain she understood exactly who D’Arcy was.
What she didn’t yet know was exactly how she could use D’Arcy. But she knew she’d find a way.
After all, when they’d left the movie earlier that evening, the first thing her father had said was, “I wish we’d brought Melissa—she loves movies like this. They scare her half to death, but she loves them.”
Melissa.
Even when he was alone with her, her father still only thought about Melissa.
As Teri went to sleep, she knew she was starting to hate Melissa almost as much as she’d hated her mother and stepfather.
It hadn’t been hard getting rid of them.
It would be even easier getting rid of Melissa.
After all, “D’Arcy” would help her, now that Teri knew who she was and where she’d come from.
She was nobody, and she lived nowhere.
Nowhere, except in Melissa’s own mind.
But that would be enough. As long as Melissa believed she was real, that would be quite enough.
“Daddy?”
It was the following afternoon, and Charles Holloway, about to leave for the airport in Portland, glanced up the stairs to see Melissa standing uncertainly on the landing, looking down at him. “D-Do you really have to go?” she asked, her voice trembling. Charles held out his arms, smiling at her, and she ran down the stairs to fling her arms around her father’s neck. “I don’t want you to go,” she whispered into his ear. “Please, can’t you get someone else to do whatever it is?”
Charles gently disengaged himself from his younger daughter’s hug. “I wish I could,” he told her. “But I really have to do it myself. It all has to do with Teri, and there’s just so many things that have to be signed. If I don’t go, it’ll drag out forever, and in the end I’ll have to go anyway. And you wouldn’t like that, would you?”
Melissa sighed and shook her head, then pulled away from her father as he reached out and ran his fingers through her newly short hair.
“Hey!” he protested. “Where are you going?”
“You’re laughing at me,” Melissa accused.
“No, I’m not,” Charles told her, pulling her close once again. “In fact, I like you with short hair. It makes you look even cuter.”
Melissa gazed up at him, wondering if he was telling her the truth. She searched his eyes, but saw nothing except the same warm twinkle that was always there when he looked at her. “Do you really like it?” she asked wistfully. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”
“You know I wouldn’t do that,” Charles replied. “If it looked like straw, I’d tell you.” He cocked his head, his eyes squinting critically. “Actually,” he went on, his voice taking on a gently teasing tone, “if you bleached it out, it
might
look kind of like straw.” He ducked away as Melissa swung at him, then hugged her once more. “Tell you what—I’ll bring you a surprise. Okay?”
“What?” Melissa asked.
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
Suddenly, from the top of the stairs, another voice spoke. “What about me?” Teri asked. “Will you bring me a surprise, too?”
Charles, his arm still around Melissa’s shoulders, smiled up at Teri. “Absolutely,” he told her. “Aren’t you going to come down and give your father a hug?”
Teri, moving almost shyly, came down the stairs. “I—I didn’t want to get in the way,” she murmured.
Charles slipped his free arm around Teri. “You couldn’t,” he said. “Two daughters, two arms. Seems like it works out perfectly.” Then his voice took on a more serious tone. “Look out for Melissa while I’m gone, okay?”
Teri smiled at him. “Sure,” she said. “We’ll have so much fun, she won’t even know you’re gone.”
“Great,” Charles replied, giving Teri a quick squeeze, then letting her go to hug Melissa once more. “You’ll be fine,” he assured her once more. “And I’ll only be gone a couple of days. Okay?”
Melissa nodded but said nothing.
And maybe he’s right,
she thought a few minutes later as her father disappeared around the curve in the long driveway.
Maybe with Teri here, it will be okay.
* * *
Darkness fell, and as Melissa sat on the quickly cooling sand, her back propped up against one of the large logs that surrounded the fire pit on the beach below the Cove Club, she decided she was glad she’d changed her mind about coming. It hadn’t been nearly as bad as she’d imagined it would be—in fact, she’d actually been having fun. The first few minutes, of course, had been terrible. As she and Teri had approached the crowd already gathered on the beach, she’d had an almost irresistible urge to turn around and go back to Maplecrest. But, as if sensing her sudden panic, Teri had taken her hand. “Come on—it’s going to be fine. Just stop worrying.”
It turned out that Teri had been right. If anyone had noticed that her clothes didn’t quite fit right, no one said anything about it. Jeff Barnstable had even told her that her hair looked nice.
“You should have done it a long time ago,” he’d said. “You always looked like you were trying to hide or something.”
Slowly, as the evening went on, she’d let her guard come down, and even joined in a game of volleyball. When they began to choose up sides, she was sure she’d be the last to be chosen, but then Teri had suggested they just split up into two teams and let everyone play on whatever side they wanted to. Except that every time one of the teams scored a point, the person who scored it had to drop out.
Melissa found herself giggling as she remembered the result, for after an hour in which all the best players did their best not to score, only she and Jerry Chalmers were left on the court. The rest of the kids had all gathered around, cheering for their last remaining teammate, and for nearly ten minutes she and Jerry had struggled just to complete a serve. In the end, when Melissa finally managed to get the ball over the net, and Jerry—who it turned out was even clumsier than she was—missed it entirely, everyone, including she and Jerry, were laughing so hard that no one cared who had won.
When she’d asked Teri where she learned those rules for volleyball, Teri had winked at her. “I just made them up. But it was kind of fun watching everyone trying to do badly, wasn’t it?”
Now, as darkness gathered around them and Jeff Barnstable threw another log onto the fire, Teri dropped down onto the sand beside her. “Isn’t this fun?” she asked. “And
we have the whole beach to ourselves. Back in California the beach would have been jammed.”
From the other side of the fire Brett Van Arsdale grinned at Teri. “What makes you think we have the beach to ourselves?” he asked.
Teri stared at him. “But we do—there’s no one on it but us.”
Brett’s eyes widened strangely in the flickering firelight. “Isn’t there?” he asked, his voice dropping low as he drew the words out. “Maybe,” he suggested, “there is. Maybe there’s someone out there, watching us.”
Despite herself, Teri shivered and scanned the darkness that surrounded the fire. “Oh, come on,” she said. “You’re just trying to scare me. And if you’re going to tell the story about the man with the hook, don’t bother—I already heard it about a million times.”
“Sure,” Brett said. “But I’ll bet you haven’t heard the one about the ghost of Secret Cove.”
Teri cocked her head suspiciously. “Oh, come on …”
“Tell her,” Ellen Stevens said. She turned to Teri. “It’s really weird, and no one tells it as well as Brett. Come on, Brett—tell it for us.”
A silence fell over the group, and then, his voice barely audible, so that Teri had to strain to hear him, he began. “It was the night of the August Moon Ball. They’d just built the clubhouse, and everyone was there. Everyone, anyway, except the servants. And one of them was planning to go, too.”
Around the fire the teenagers snuggled closer together as Brett, in a low voice filled with portent, went on with the story…
It was almost eight o’clock, and the girl peered at her reflection in the flickering light of the oil lamp that stood on the small table by her cot. She looked beautiful tonight—the white dress she’d been working on for two months fit her perfectly, and with its long sleeves ending in lacy cuffs, and the fifteen rows of tiny ruffles that covered its bodice, it looked almost like a wedding dress.
Perhaps, indeed, it might be her wedding dress, except that she was sure it would be bad luck to wear the same dress at her wedding that she’d worn at her first big party.
But she could never afford another dress like this one—
She stopped herself. Of course she could. After she married Joshua, she’d be able to afford anything she wanted. Surely he would buy her the material so she could make herself a wedding dress even more beautiful than this one.
Her eyes wandered to the third finger of her left hand and the small gold ring set with a single perfect diamond that he’d secretly given her three months ago.
“We won’t tell anyone,” he’d said. “We’ll keep it secret until the ball. By then I’ll tell my parents, and everything will be all right.”
And tonight, the night of the ball, they were going to make the announcement. She would stand beside him as he told all his friends that he’d fallen in love with her and was going to marry her.
They’d be surprised—she knew that. But when they saw how happy Joshua was with her, they’d all gather around her, and suddenly she’d be a part of them.
She checked her dress one last time, then blew out the lantern and left her room under the eaves of the mansion, making her way quickly down the back stairs. She was about to slip out the door when she heard the cook’s voice speaking sharply to her.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
The words made the girl freeze, but finally she turned to face the woman she’d worked for since she was fourteen. “To the ball,” she said.
The cook glared scornfully at her. “And what makes you think they’ll let the likes of you into a place like that?”
The girl smiled serenely. “They’ll let me in,” she said. “I’ve been invited.”
“Have you, then?” the cook asked, her skepticism clear in her voice. “Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t pay any mind to what the boys around here tell you. They’ll say whatever they have to to get into a girl’s—”
“Not Joshua!” the girl exclaimed, her face burning with embarrassment at the cook’s insinuation. “He’s not like that!”
She scurried out the back door before the cook could say anything else, and hurried across the lawn to the beach, carrying her dancing shoes—the shoes she’d spent nearly a week’s salary on—in her hands. She hiked up the skirt of the dress, determined not to let anything stain its hem,
and started down the beach toward the bright yellow gaslights that glowed from the windows of the new clubhouse perched on the southern point of the cove.
She came at last to the foot of the path leading up from the beach to the clubhouse, and stopped to put on her shoes. She waited for a few minutes, for it was here that Joshua had promised to meet her. Together they would walk up the path and enter the clubhouse, and people would know what had happened before Joshua even told them. In her mind she’d rehearsed the scene over and over again: Joshua, tall and handsome in his cutaway jacket, his arm protectively around her shoulders, his handsome features set determinedly as he announced to his friends that he’d decided to marry her. She had even imagined the disapproval she would see in their eyes for a moment, before they realized how much in love she and Joshua were. But when they saw, their disapproval would vanish and they would welcome her with open arms.
A slight breeze came up, and the girl shivered, then looked around once more for her fiancé. She looked at the watch tucked into her tiny beaded bag and saw that it was almost eight-thirty.
She was late.
He must have already been here, and was waiting for her up above, in front of the clubhouse itself.
She climbed the path, carefully holding her skirts well above the dusty trail. At last she reached the top and stopped to catch her breath. Now, through the windows, she could see everyone dancing. All the women in their beautiful dresses, their throats covered with beautiful necklaces, jewels dangling from their ears, sparkling in the gaslight with an almost unnatural beauty.
And then, spinning out of the crowd, his arms around a beautifully pale girl in a dress the color of an emerald, she saw Joshua.
He was smiling down at the girl, and she seemed to be laughing at something he was saying. Then he looked up and saw her.
Instantly, she saw him recognize her and stop dancing, and she turned away from the window, hurrying toward the door, knowing he would be waiting for her just inside.
She pushed the door open and stepped into the club-house, then crossed the foyer to stand in the immense double doors that opened into the huge dining room where the ball was being held.
Joshua, still standing with the pale girl in the green dress, was staring at her.
Then, slowly, the other couples on the floor stopped dancing and began to turn toward her as well.
She paused, puzzled. Why wasn’t Joshua coming over to her? Why was he just standing there, looking at her, his eyes looking …
And then she knew.
His eyes looked frightened.
As if he hadn’t expected to see her.
He hadn’t told his parents at all.
She could hear the people around her murmuring among themselves now, and here and there a soft titter of laughter. Instinctively, her eyes locked on Joshua’s, she started toward her fiancé.
And then, miraculously, he came to life and started toward her. A moment later he was there and his hand was on her arm.
And then he spoke.
“I have to talk to you,” he said, his voice low. “In the kitchen.”
His fingers closing on her arm like a vise, he steered her across the room, weaving through the crowd, which seemed to draw back to let them pass. Then they were through the door, standing in the kitchen.
The cooks and waiters, all of them in their uniforms, stared curiously at her.
“Wh-What is it?” the girl murmured. “What’s wrong?”
Joshua licked nervously at his lips, and his eyes refused to meet hers. “I can’t marry you” he said. “I talked to my father, and he said if I marry you he’ll disown me.”
The girl gasped. This couldn’t be happening—it was impossible.
“I have to have the ring back,” Joshua told her. He was holding her hand now, his fingers on the ring.
It wouldn’t come off.
Jerking her hand away, the girl tugged at the ring, struggling
to pull it off her finger. “Is that all it’s about?” she demanded. “Just money? You told me you loved me. You told me—” She choked on her own words, her eyes flooding with tears. She pulled harder at the ring, but it seemed to have become a part of her finger.
Joshua, his eyes suddenly cold, was already turning away from her. “It’s all right,” he said, as if talking to a child. “Why don’t you just leave? I’ll get the ring tomorrow.”
And then he was gone, disappearing through the doors to the dining room, not even looking back at her.
She stood stunned, staring at the door through which her lover had gone. It had been so easy for him—he’d never cared about her, never!
She struggled with the ring again, but still it refused to budge. But she had to get it off her finger—it felt like it was burning her!
She had to get it away from her.
Her eyes darted around the kitchen, and then she saw it.
On a large chopping table only afoot away, there was a meat cleaver.
A strangled cry coming from her throat, she seized the cleaver in her right hand, at the same time laying her left arm on the chopping block.
The cleaver rose above her head, hovered for a split second, and then she brought it down.
The razor-sharp blade slashed through her left wrist, and she froze for a moment, her hand lying severed on the wooden table, blood spurting from the stump where the hand had been only a second before.
As one of the kitchen girls screamed, she dropped the cleaver to the floor and picked up the severed hand.
A moment later she pushed through the door into the ballroom. The dancing had started again, but she shoved her way through the whirling couples, her eyes scanning the crowd until she finally found Joshua.
She stopped, waiting for him to turn.
And then, at last, he saw her.
His eyes widened slightly as he gazed at her blood-drenched dress. And then, as she hurled her left hand at him, the hateful ring still on its third finger, he stepped backward.
The hand struck his chest, then fell to the floor, leaving his white shirt stained with crimson.
As screams began to fill the ballroom, the girl fled, plunging out into the night.
For her, the ball was over.…