IN THE MIRROR
By Susan Smallwood and Susan Griffith

Part 13

Pausing for an instant, Lucy glanced down at her desk, then, with a smile, she ripped up her letter to Mr. Sproule.

"Oh, NOW what does she have in mind?" demanded the Captain.

"She'll go to London, too." Carolyn said, simply.

"I thought you had not seen this before."

"Look, see? She's in the editor's office, signing the papers." Carolyn said.

Lucy put down her pen, and looked up brightly at Mr. Sproule. "There! Is that all, Mr. Sproule?"

"Yes, except to deposit the checks to your account as they come in. I congratulate you, my dear. And I congratulate the Captain, too.

"Oh!" Lucy exclaimed, a little shaken. "Yes - the Captain."

"Forgotten him already, has she?" the Captain shook his head.

Mr. Sproule showed her to the door, grinning happily. "And I intend to hold you to your promise to introduce us."

Lucy bit her lip uneasily, "oh, yes. I DID promise, didn't I? You know - someday - Mr. Sproule, when I've known you a little longer, I'll tell you the truth about the Captain."

"THAT I would like to hear!" said the Captain, emphatically.

"Well, goodbye, and thank you again."

"Goodbye, Mrs. Muir."

Lucy went into the ante-room, but paused at the Enquiries desk. "Would you please give me Mr. Fairley's address?"

"Oh, dear." Carolyn whispered.

The young man smiled at her. "Miles Fairley?"

"Yes."

Taking out a book, he flipped through it. "Ah, here it is, Mrs. Muir. Number 14...

"I wouldn't try to track him down if I were you, Lucia." warned the Captain.

"Shh!" Carolyn frowned at him again. Then she laughed a bit. "We are a pair, aren't we? Talking through a film we both want to see!"

The Captain smiled at her, then both looked back at the television.

Lucy's cab stopped before a handsome house, on a crowded, if tidy, street. Getting out, she paid the driver and made her way to the door. The maid answered her knock, and, taking her name, showed her into the

parlor. It was an elegant room, and Lucy paused first at a painting of a lovely woman playing the mandolin, then one of the same woman with a little boy and girl.

"Mrs. Muir?" The same lovely woman of the paintings walked in with a smile. "The maid said you wanted to see my husband. Perhaps I can help you?"

"Husband?" Lucy whispered, in shock.

"Ha! I KNEW he was stringing her along!" the Captain shouted.

"Poor Lucy!" Carolyn bit her lip.

"Or, if you don't mind waiting," Mrs. Fairley continued, "he's taken the children to the park. I've had them abroad for the past few months and we've just returned. Miles is making up for lost time. Please,

sit down." She sat next to Lucy on the sofa. "If you're a friend of his, you know how fond he is of the children."

Lucy did not answer, and Mrs. Fairley looked puzzled. "You ARE a friend of his, aren't you?"

"I - I'm a writer. He - ah - Mr. Fairley and I have the same publisher." Lucy stammered, nervously.

"But how exciting." Mrs. Fairley said, quietly. "I don't often meet one of Miles - literary - friends. You'll wait for him, won't you? I expect him back any minute, and we'll have tea."

Struggling to contain herself, Lucy rises. "No, I'll - I'll go. I'm afraid I've made a mistake."

"A mistake, Mrs. Muir?"

"Yes. I'm - I'm sorry."

As Lucy started to leave, Mrs. Fairley put a hand on her arm. "I think I understand, my dear." she said, gently. "And now I'm sorry, too. You see, this isn't the first time something like this has happened."

"That utter cad! He ought to be keelhauled, then nailed to the mizzen mast!" the Captain fumed.

"Oh, I feel so sorry for BOTH women." Carolyn moaned.

Heartbroken, and unable to speak, Lucy fled for the door. Once outside, she again composed herself and walked down the sidewalk in a daze of pain.

"Poor Lucy." Carolyn whispered, trying to imagine what it would be like if someone she loved turned out to be a lying cad.

That night Lucy stood upon the balcony, slowly pacing up and down and wringing her hands. She barely noticed when Martha stepped outside, a worried frown on her face. "Come in, mum. I brought you some nice 'ot milk."

At those words, Lucy broke down in tears and was soon cradled in Martha's arms. "Oh, there, there" Martha murmured, tears in her own eyes. "'E ain't worth it. Blast 'is eyes! 'E ain't worth it."

"Well, like all women, I suppose Lucia will have her cry. She is acting very like a Lucy now, I must say! Then the Captain will return to save the day." the Captain said, once the commercial was on.

"Do you really think so?" Carolyn looked at him, still feeling Lucy's pain as if it were her own. "But she thinks the Captain is only a dream now. He has taken away her choice."

"Nonsense! He has merely taken away her chance to change her mind, another womanly attribute that can drive a man to drink!" Then

the Captain picked up his wine glass. "And speaking of drink, my dear, would you care for some Madeira? I fear we have finished the

wine."

Carolyn looked at her glass, then her watch. "I don't think so, Captain. Thank you anyway. The show won't be going much longer, and I've had enough. I'm afraid if I have much more, I may go to sleep, or the tears will come that much sooner! For some reason, this movie is making me very weepy. I'm not usually one to cry over stories, but ..."

"When it touches the heart, a woman's tears are not far behind." the Captain shrugged. "Or so I've found."

"I thought you avoided woman's tears and hearts, Captain." Carolyn spoke dryly. "You just wanted ..." she stopped. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

"Nevertheless, it was probably a true picture of my youth." the Captain conceded.

Carolyn shifted uncomfortably on the couch, then realized gratefully that the commercial break was over.

Lucy walked down the deserted beach, wearing a heavy cloak, and a scarf over her head to guard against the cold air. As she passed the piling with Anna's name carved in it, she paused for a moment, then continued on her way. Martha was folding laundry in the kitchen when she heard the bark of Rommy, approaching the house. Putting down her work, she opened the door for Lucy.

"Where you been?"

Lucy took off her cloak and scarf, apparently lost in thought. "Just walking."

"Seems you do a lot of walking these days. Don't tire yourself out now."

"The best way to clear your senses! A good dose of salt air!" the Captain said.

"I'm not the least bit tired." Lucy said, without conviction.

"Off to your room now, and a bit of shut eye before tea." Martha fairly pushed her out of the kitchen, and to the stairs. Together they went up the staircase.

"Do you know what day this is, Martha?"

"Wash day."

Lucy smiled. "Yes. But it's exactly a year ago today that we came here. We went up theses stairs together, and I hurt my finger on the window - remember?"

Martha grinned, and steered Lucy into the upper hallway and to her room.

"And then I had a dream."

Opening the door, Martha glanced back at Lucy, "I remember you telling me."

Lucy walked into the room, and came to stand before the painting of Captain Gregg, which still hung, but with the painting of Lucy now absent.

"Well, at least she has kept his portrait in place!" the Captain said with satisfaction. "And cast overboard that indecent painting by that seaslug, as you called him, my dear!"

"A very strange dream," Lucy added, softly. "The first of many dreams."

"Yes'm. Off with your dress, now."

Lucy looked over at the bed, then shook her head. "No. I'll rest in the big chair."

"Whatever you say." Martha went over to the seat under the Captain's painting, and lifted Rommy off Lucy's blanket.

Carolyn sat up straighter, and excitedly said, "This is just the way it was a year ago! Oh, Captain, do you think he'll come back?"

"To save the day?" the Captain spoke dryly.

Carolyn glared at him, then turned back to the television.

"I'll call you in an hour." Martha went out.

Settling herself down, Lucy shut her eyes. Suddenly, the chronometer began to chime - eight bells. Lucy's eyes flew open, and she looked hopefully at the dog, who was curled up placidly. Then, there was a loud creak, and she sat upright, staring at the french doors as if willing them to open. But they did not. Sadly, she leaned back against the chair and closed her eyes.

As the commercial came on, Carolyn looked in disbelief at the Captain. "That's incredible! He didn't come back! I was so sure that he would return!"

"My dear, you are thinking as a woman again. Why would he return? He said he was leaving her because she had chosen to live, which is only right, and because her way was among the living. If he remained,

she would be simply burying herself before her time. What kind of

life is it for you? You shut yourself up here, in what that faint- hearted suitor of yours called a 'mouldering museum', keeping life at bay for the sake of privacy. IS it that, or is merely hiding?"

"Captain!"

"After all, you do not get out socially the way other beautiful young women do."

"Captain!" Carolyn again attempted to interrupt him.

"And really, my dear, you DO deserve to have a life apart from this house ... and its owner ..."

"CAPTAIN GREGG!" Carolyn found herself on her feet, her hands on her hips. "How DARE you ...? I am not staying here just for you! I could leave in an instant if I so wished, and be quite happy living among the living!"

"Shh, my dear. I thought you did not want to awaken Martha and the children." the Captain grinned.

"Oh! You were teasing me again!" Carolyn plopped back down on the couch and took a deep breath. Then she said, calmly and quietly, "We were talking about the movie. I did not think we were discussing our own situation."

"Ah, but it appears to BE our situation on the television, my dear. A mirror-image, as it were, holding up what might be or might have been."

Carolyn opened her mouth to refute the statement then closed it again. She thought over his words, then what she had said. Wincing inwardly, she realized that perhaps she hadn't been quite truthful

even to herself. She could not imagine leaving here, leaving HIM, and being entirely happy anywhere else. Thankfully, she noticed that the movie was back on.