IN THE MIRROR
By Susan Smallwood and Susan Griffith

Carolyn came into the living room and smiled. The Captain swung around from his perusal of the flames in the fireplace and said, "I thought you were retiring, my dear."

"No, it's too early. I feel rather restless."

"Yet you began to get ready," his voice was husky as his eyes roamed over her slim figure in the yellow dressing gown.

Moving quickly to the television, Carolyn turned it on, hoping the movie would distract him. She hadn't thought twice about coming down again in her dressing gown. She had worn it so many times before. Now she wondered why she had never before thought of feeling uncomfortable being in his presence in her nightclothes. The Captain might have been a ghost, but he was a one-hundred percent MALE ghost. His blatant perusal and slow, wicked smile were enough to send heat to her cheeks immediately.

"Do you want popcorn?" she asked desperately as he continued to gaze at her.

"Not particularly. But by all means, if you wish it ..."

Carolyn glanced at her watch. "We have about 15 minutes before the movie begins, so we may as well pop some."

The Captain followed Carolyn into the kitchen and watched as she took out the popper, turned on the gas burner and measured out some kernels into the wire basket.

"Martha was going to watch the movie with us, but Ed Peevey phoned and asked her out tomorrow for the day, so she thought she'd better get to bed a little earlier than possible if she stays up." Carolyn informed the Captain. "She's hoping he has a Valentine gift for her."

"Oh, yes, Valentine's Day. A day for lovers."

Carolyn grinned at him as she shook the popcorn basket over the burner. "Martha is still hoping for great things from Ed. He gave her that pillow when we thought she was leaving, and she swears he was going to ask her to marry him ... then it just fizzled out when her plans were changed. After getting back from her visit to Florida, he never mentioned it again."

In no time, the popcorn was finished, and Carolyn salted and buttered it generously. Then she looked at the Captain. "Shall we have some wine with this? There's still half a bottle left over from New Year's."

"Allow me, Mrs. Muir!" The Captain rummaged in the fridge for the wine and poured two generous glasses full. He carried them while Carolyn took the popcorn.

Coming back into the living room, both realized the movie had just started. The final credits were appearing on the screen.

"Blast!" Carolyn sat down at one end of the sofa, putting the big bowl of popcorn beside her. "We've missed the start. Now we'll have to wait to see what it is ... Martha has the paper in her room, and I never thought to check the TV listings. Of course, they don't tell the name of the late movie anyway. BLAST!"

"REALLY, Mrs. Muir! Your language! Does it really matter what the name is?" the Captain settled on the other end of the sofa, his amused gaze again on her flustered face. "We will find out soon enough, I imagine."

"I was just wondering if it was a western or a war movie or something. I hope not."

"'London, at the turn of the century.'" the Captain read

aloud. "Well, it certainly isn't a western. I should think that on the eve of Valentine's Day, it would be a romance." he spoke softly.

Ignoring him, Carolyn watched with growing interest as Lucy, a young widow, quietly and firmly announced to her mother and sister in-law that she was leaving them. Inside herself, Carolyn began feel sympathy for her. She, too, knew what it was like to live her life for everyone but herself. She, too, knew about rather domineering in-laws wanting to control her life, or the lives of her children.

"I DO like the cut of her jib! A true dark-haired beauty. But I cannot say I care for the name of the heroine." The Captain remarked. "'Lucy' seems such a spineless name to my mind."

"Captain! She's not ACTING spineless." Carolyn retorted. "No, I'll give her that. She certainly told that sister-in- law of hers a few things." The Captain took a long sip of his wine, then shook his head in disgust. "A more bitter wench I've never seen. She and that interfering cousin of yours could

be a matched set, heaven help us!"

Hiding a grin, knowing it was useless to argue with him about Harriet, Carolyn turned back to the television. Lucy was embracing her little daughter and talking happily with her maid. "What a beautiful child. Look at those big, dark eyes."

Then the scene changed, and Carolyn gave a short, incredulous laugh. "Look at her luggage! Lucy has MY last name! 'Muir' isn't THAT common a name. And ... and her maid's name is Martha! What an incredible coincidence!"

"Indeed." the Captain agreed. "They even have a little fleabag like Scruffy."

Choosing not to comment, Carolyn watched as Lucy entered a charmingly old fashioned office. She could not repress a smile as the steadfast young lady bantered with the mustached house agent just to find out his name.

"Look at that dolt!" the Captain snorted. "Idiocy must run in the veins of money-grubbing house peddlers!"

"Captain, please!" Carolyn said, with some irritation.

Looking at the handsome young woman before him, Mr. Coombe's mouth fell open ever so slightly. "Mrs. Muir, of course. You were desirous of renting a house.

"Yes" Lucy said, greatly relieved her point had gotten through.

Pulling a thick folder from a shelf, Mr. Coombe set to work. "I have selected several prospects suitable to a young lady in -ah- bereaved circumstances."

Taking a paper from his folder, Mr. Coombe began to read the description of an apparent mansion. Lucy listened intently, but could not hide her disappointment as he read "One hundred and twenty pounds ten pounds deposit."

Embarrassed, she said quietly, "I'm afraid that's a little too expensive."

"Quite." Mr. Coombe said in a clipped voice.

"That Lucy appears to be as short of cash as YOU are, Mrs. Muir. It does seem strange to hear her called 'Mrs. Muir' as well." the Captain mused.

Reaching over, Mr. Coombe took another sheet of paper, and as he read it his face went pale. Lucy watched curiously as he put it face down, taking another instead. As soon as he began reading, she retrieved the discarded paper and smiled.

"This one. Gull Cottage."

Displeased at being interrupted, Mr. Coombe glanced up, "What was that, Madam?"

The Captain sat up abruptly. "Yes, WHAT WAS THAT?"

"This house. Gull Cottage. It's exactly the sort of place I'm looking for."

Growing flustered, Mr. Coombe hastily took the paper from her, and put it back in the folder. "Gull Cottage? Oh, no. It wouldn't suit you at all."

Taking back the paper, Lucy once again interrupted, "And only fifty-two pounds. That's very little for a furnished house."

"It's an absurd price."

"He obviously doesn't want her to have it. Captain, this is so full of strange co-incidences! Names ... even similar people! Doesn't this Mr. Coombe remind you of Claymore? HE didn't want ME to take Gull Cottage either!" Carolyn listened

intently.

"Then why shouldn't it suit me?" Lucy asked .

"My dear young lady, you must let me be the judge of that. Now, where were we? Ah, yes...."

"But if I'M going to live in the house, I should be the judge!" Lucy announced defiantly, interrupting a third time.

Exasperated, Mr. Coombe turned to her, "You'll only waste your time."

"But it's MY time. I believe there's another house agency in Whitecliff. Perhaps they have Gull Cottage listed too."

"Well, Captain, I guess you weren't as unique as you THOUGHT you were, naming this place 'Gull Cottage'. Someone else had the same idea for a name of a house." Carolyn glanced quickly at the Captain's scowling face, then looked back at the television, to see a frustrated Mr. Coombe agree to drive Lucy out to Gull Cottage.

Just then, the movie cut to a commercial. Carolyn looked fully at the Captain again. "Why do you think that Mr. Coombe was so reluctant to let her rent Gull Cottage?"

"Why is any inane fool so sure he knows what is best for another person?" the Captain was irritated. "That penny- pinching ninny is the same with you. Did you notice that Mr. Coombe never gave the woman a clear reason? Probably did not have one." Then he snorted. "Of course, being a woman, no doubt she would not have understood any reason. Your sex is a good deal too trusting, madam, it appears to me."

"Especially in THOSE days, they didn't have much choice." Carolyn reminded him. "Women were at the mercy of men ..."

"So they should be." The Captain folded his arms, and leaned back. "Being the superior sex, of course we should make your decisions for you."

"I thought we had already worked that out, Captain. You agreed to let me live my OWN life, remember? No more interfering?" Carolyn took a handful of popcorn and tossed one at a time into her mouth. She offered the bowl to the Captain,

and he gingerly tried a few kernels, chewing thoughtfully.

Then Carolyn's attention was riveted on the television again, as the announcer said, "Stay tuned, and in a moment we will return to our late movie, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, starring Rex Harrison and Gene Tierney."

Carolyn's eyes widened in disbelief. The Captain sprang to his feet and began pacing the floor. He whirled on Carolyn. "Did that just say what I THOUGHT it said?"

Numbly, Carolyn nodded.

"The GHOST and Mrs. Muir?"

Again, Carolyn's head bobbed.

"Mrs, Muir, I demand to know the meaning of this! A Mrs. Muir on the movie, a Martha, a Gull Cottage for rent but only to certain people, it seems, AND a ghost? It is an outrage!"

"Captain..." Carolyn began, feebly, but his tirade was now in full swing.

"Cannot a man's privacy remain intact? Why is MY story being broadcast so that anyone who owns one of these blasted television sets can look in?"

"You're not the only one whose privacy is being invaded." Carolyn murmured. "I'm there, too."

"But how did they get the story?"

"I don't know. It's an old movie, that's obvious. It's still in black and white. Probably it was made before I was even married! I've GOT to find that paper ... it might say in the TV listings what year it was made."

"What in blue blazes does it matter WHAT year it was made? I want it UNmade!"

"Captain, don't be ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? ME?" He stopped pacing and glared at her.

"Please, sit down. The movie's starting again. I don't want to miss any of this!" Carolyn patted the couch beside her, shifting the half-empty popcorn bowl closer to her to make room for him at the other end of the sofa.

As the old motor car in the movie wound up the road to the house on the cliff above the sea, Carolyn exclaimed, "Captain, it's a perfect setting for Gull Cottage ... especially if they were aiming to get similar views to what we have here!"

"And why would they want similar views?" he growled. Then he said curtly, "The view is well enough, I suppose!"

The stately, white house came into view just as Mr. Coombe pulled to a stop in front of the gate. Stepping out of the car, Lucy's expression was one of pure enchantment. After a pause, she struggled with the broken front gate and made her way down the overgrown flagstone footpath. Reluctantly, Mr. Coombe followed, casting longing glances at his car.

The Captain sniffed. "Well, I must say, THAT Gull Cottage looks nothing like the original one!"

"Assuming yours IS the original one." Carolyn murmured, not looking at him. She, like Lucy, was waiting to see the inside of the house.

With a tone approaching horror in his voice, Mr. Coombe asked incredulously, "the inside?"

"Of course." Lucy turned to look at him. "What on earth's the matter?"

"Very well." Mr. Coombe sighed, resigned to his fate, "if you insist."

Taking out a large, old fashioned iron key, he inserted it in the rusty lock, and swung open the door. Once inside, Lucy's eyes took in the hallway, and elegant staircase. Approaching it, she blew on the banister, sending a cloud of dust wafting through the air.

"It's terribly dusty."

"Now that DOES remind me of Gull Cottage!" Carolyn grinned.

"Ah, but it has only been empty four years. And to get in such a state!"