wanda1969

Title: “Rebecca”
Author: wanda1969
Prompt: “Rebecca”
Pairing(s): Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Rating: PG
Warnings: very occasional expletive. ALSO, SOMEONE HAD TO BE MRS DANVERS...
Spoilers: More for “Rebecca” (mainly the Hitchcock movie) rather than Torchwood
Disclaimer: I have created no characters here: I have merely borrowed the Torchwood characters from the BBC & their creators. I have also borrowed the plot and some characters from Daphne Du Maurier and Hitchcock (and his scriptwriters). No copyright infringement is intended. In fact, I know this film so well, it was really hard for me not to completely ‘quote’ it...I hope I have paraphrased where necessary.
Author's Notes: Torchwood characters shoehorned into “Rebecca”. This is closer to the Hitchcock film than the book. I’ve also added an Epilogue which is a bit like one of the first chapters of the book, but at the end- THE EPILOGUE IS THE ONE TO NOT READ IF YOU WANT TO STOP WHERE THE FILM DID. I’ve deviated from the book by (mainly) not writing in the first person, and also by allowing the “second Mrs De Winter” to have a ‘name’.

My aim was for romantic drama/suspense in the 1930s film/book stylee with a bit of modern fanfiction (this is set in the modern day).

Many, many, many thanks to the very lovely and patient janiemc for both beta-ing and putting up with me...I am painfully pedantic (if only that would translate to tidying up...).

Chapter 3

“And here we are!” Jack said as they turned into what looked like a side road. There was large set of gates with buildings on either side, a connecting first storey arching above them.

The gates opened smoothly, mechanically, and they drove onto the driveway which curved this way and that, dense bushes and trees to either side. It seemed that the drive went on for hours until the shrubs and trees which seemed to enclose the gravelled road thinned somewhat giving way to colourful Japanese acers and rhododendrons in full bloom. Now that the sunlight could penetrate the trees, the leaves and flowers shimmered red and orange, pink and yellow, almost dazzling Ianto in the sunlight.

Finally they rounded a bend, and in the distance Manderley was revealed. It was larger than Ianto had remembered from the photographs- it was vast, each successive master of the estate had added to the old house. Somewhere in the middle of the building you could see the old mediaeval stonework of the original house, and on either side the later additions were obvious: the late Elizabethan stone building with its tall chimney stacks to one side, to another side an early Gothic revival wing. Ianto was sure that he could even see a small wing in the art deco style which looked like it was part of a garage and kitchen area. Gardens, lawns and ponds surrounded the house; on one side a paved terrace with flower beds and balustrades balanced precariously on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the sea.

“Like it?” Jack looked away from the drive to smile at Ianto.

“It’s...it’s beautiful.”

“We’ll change everything here...” Jack said almost sadly, the smile having left his face. Before Ianto really had time to think too much about this, the first drops of a shower started to fall. “Typical- you can tell we’re back in England!” He said, returning to his normal self. “Never mind-almost there. No use putting the top up.”

The shower had become heavy and by the time they had pulled into the gravelled area in front of the large door into the main house, the pair was drenched to the skin. “Welcome to Cornwall!” Jack laughed before leaning over to kiss his new partner. He switched off the engine and was out of the car and at the passenger door, opening it, before Ianto could speak. He held his hand out to the young man and grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the front door. “But don’t even expect me to carry you over the threshold! Come on –before you catch pneumonia.”

As they reached the entrance, the door was pulled open by a man in a footman’s dress.

“Welcome back, Sir.”

“Thank you, Frith!”

“Sorry Sir...Mrs Cooper” Frith said apologetically, and Jack looked into the house.

Ianto followed Jack’s eyes though the open door, and into a large panelled hallway filled with twenty or thirty people. “Damn that woman! I specifically said that I didn’t want this kind of fuss...”

“What is it?”

“Mrs Cooper, Ianto. She’s assembled the entire bloody staff! I’ll deal with it. C’mon.” As an afterthought he added: “You two might get on, though- she’s from Swansea.”

Ianto started to become acutely aware that several pairs of eyes were staring at neither Jack nor himself; instead their eyes were focussed on the pair’s clasped hands. Jack held on tightly though, almost defensively.

Jack surveyed the staff with a smile, “Good afternoon, everyone. It’s good to be back! I hope that everything’s well?” The small crowd before them nodded. “This is Ianto, I hope you’ll extend him every courtesy and kindness that you’d extend to me. But most of all, make him welcome. This is a new start at Manderely.”

Again the men and women in front of them nodded their heads in assent.

As the two men walked down two steps into the large, open hall a woman stepped forward. She was dressed more fashionably than the rest of the staff most of whom were dressed in simple black skirts or trousers, and white shirts or blouses.

She wore a well tailored, low buttoning, jacket, with knee length tight skirt. She also wore a white blouse with subtle frilling around the neckline, which ended in a deep vee.

She ran her eyes up and down Ianto, with a look of total disdain and, just possibly, disgust.

“Aah, Mrs Cooper- meet Ianto.” As Ianto released Jack’s hand, she reached out to shake it. As he took her hand it seemed cold, almost dead, matching the icy look in her eyes.

“Welcome to Manderley, Sir.” The words were said with no real warmth, or any attempt at a ‘welcome’ at all.

“Thank you,” he forced himself to say.

“Frith will arrange for your cases to be taken up to your rooms, Sirs. I hope you find them comfortable.”

“Thank you, Mrs Cooper,” Jack said to her as cheerily as he could, and then turned back to the staff. “Thank you, everyone. I’m sure that there’ll be plenty of opportunities for you all to be introduced properly when we’re settled in and rested.” He paused again leaning over to Ianto and pecking him on the cheek. “You go upstairs and get unpacked- I’ll be five minutes. I’ve got to make a quick ‘phone call to Owen, the Estate Manager. Tell him we’re back.”

***

As the footmen finished placing the luggage in the dark oak panelled room, Ianto saw Mrs Cooper enter through the open door.

She stood looking at Ianto, her face expressionless. She finally spoke. “Perhaps you should start looking to engage your own valet.”

“I’m more than happy for one of the existing staff to take over that role if any of them are interested.”

“Mr Har...Jones...It is the tradition for every mistr...master...of Manderley to arrange his own personal staff...” Changing the subject, she spoke again. “I hope that the refurbishment of the room is to your liking?”

“Oh, it’s been redecorated?”

Mrs Cooper condescendingly continued, “Oh yes, Sir. This wing was never used- unless it was for guests. Mr & Mrs Harkness used the West Wing. The views from that wing are the best in the house- all along the coast and the cliffs. And the rooms are beautiful, all vaulted ceilings and tracery windows- With balconies and so much larger than these. But Mr Harkness sent ahead that these rooms were to be used.” And then she spoke again, almost as an afterthought. “And the most beautiful room, the largest, the one with the best view, and a balcony- that was Mrs Harkness’...”

Luckily, before Ianto had any time at all to formulate a response, there was a knock at the door. He didn’t even have time to reply before the door was pushed open, and Jack strode in.

“How is it? It’s scrubbed up well.” He looked around the room, seeing Mrs Cooper. “Well done, Mrs Cooper, this is just how I wanted these rooms!”

“We followed your instructions as much as possible.” As she looked at Jack, she seemed like a different person. Gone were the dark impassive eyes. She smiled at him widely, and Ianto noticed something that he hadn’t noticed before. She had a gap-toothed smile that many would have found endearing.

“And you’ve done brilliantly.”

“Thank you, Mr Harkness,” she said as she left the room, preening.

***

The next morning Ianto awoke alone in bed, an occurrence that he’d got used to in the recent weeks. Jack was an early riser and it wasn’t unusual for Ianto to find the older man already awake, sometimes sitting in a nearby chair with a coffee and reading his newspaper. The young man looked around the room, and spotted a note on one of the bedside tables.

‘Gone to breakfast, Cariad.

See you in the Breakfast Room?

Jx’

He dressed quickly and made his way downstairs only to realise he had absolutely no idea where he was supposed to be heading. It was with relief that he saw Frith collecting some post in the entrance Hall.

“Good morning, Frith.”

“Good morning, Sir.”

“I know this may seem a little strange, Frith, but I don’t have the faintest clue where the Breakfast Room is.” Ianto laughed, hoping not to sound too foolish.

“Of course,” Frith smiled. “If you’ll just follow me, Sir.”

They walked across the hall to the furthest corner and Frith gestured as they reached a door, “It’s just through here.”

“Thank you, Frith. I would have tried every door in the house before I found the right one.”

Frith just nodded and then turned and walked away.

Turning the handle, Ianto opened the door and looked inside. The room was less formal than the large dining room where they’d eaten the night before but, it was still large enough for a table that had eight seats around it, with plenty of space to spare. He was pleased to see Jack seated at the far end of the table, a pile of paperwork and a newspaper on the table. He looked up from the letter he was reading.

“Hey, there, I thought you might be having a lie in!”

“Morning.”

“Grab a coffee and some food- breakfast is usually pretty informal unless we have visitors. All the stuff’s over there,” he said pointing over to a sideboard laden with heated chrome trays and baskets, and a large cafetiére of coffee. “There’s a toaster behind the screen if you want fresh toast- or if there’s anything special you want you can call cook.”

“I don’t think there’ll be any need for that! There’s enough here for a small army,” he said as he lifted the lids of the chrome trays checking the contents before selecting some toast and scrambled eggs, and pouring himself a black coffee, carrying it over to the table and taking a seat next to Jack.

“I’m going to have to meet with Harper- the Estate Manager- in about half an hour, Cariad. I’ve been away so long he’s desperate to get back on track. And Toshiko and Rhys are coming over for lunch. But don’t worry, I’ll be back from seeing Harper- Owen- before they get here.”

Although he was disappointed at the thought of being left on his own for his first day at Manderley, Ianto couldn’t help but smile when Jack called him ‘cariad’- a word that Jack had learned after Ianto had used it soon after Jack had proposed. Jack had asked what it meant, and Ianto had blushed slightly as he’d explained its meaning.

They continued their breakfast, chatting about this and that until there was a knock at the door. As Jack shouted enter, the door opened and a small wiry man came into the room.

“Harper! Good to see you! And meet Ianto! Before long you’ll be taking orders from him. Ianto, meet Owen Harper, my esteemed Estate Manager. And call him Owen.”

Harper smiled genuinely as he strode over and shook the young man’s hand.

“Good to meet you Ianto. I hope you’re enjoying Manderley?” It was a rhetorical question and Ianto didn’t have time to speak before Harper carried on.

“I’m sorry to be dragging Jack away, but it’s close to ten o’clock and I’m afraid we need to be checking this year’s programme for the estate. And you’ve got a meeting with Johnson, the Vet at 10.30, Jack.”

Ianto guessed that Harper was from somewhere near London from his accent.

Jack looked up at the clock on the mantelpiece, “God! I’d best be going!” He leapt up from his seat, grabbed the post and paperwork and leant in to kiss Ianto on the cheek. “I’ll be back before lunch.” He rushed out of the room, Harper trailing behind him, but turning around to wave goodbye, leaving the Welshman to finish his breakfast alone.

After breakfast, Ianto decided to explore the ground floor. After trying several doors he found himself in what he supposed was ‘The Library’. It was a beautiful room with large mullioned windows, and floor to ceiling bookcases. There was a large Chesterfield sofa facing the fireplace and a flat screen television set. “Just what I need to catch up on the news.” He thought as he switched on the TV.

There was a chill in the air, and he walked over to the hearth and knelt down and he started to load the fire with logs from a nearby basket. Just then, Frith entered the room.

“Did you need anything, Sir?”

“No, no, Frith. I was just lighting the fire. It’s getting a bit chilly.”

“Sir, the fire in the library is not usually lit until the afternoon. Mrs Harkness always spent the mornings in the Morning Room. The fire is already lit in there, it’s much warmer. But I could light a fire in here, if you’d like...?”

“No I wouldn’t dream of it- the Morning Room will do just fine.” Ianto got to his feet and followed Frith. Manderley was a place of ritual, and most of those rituals seemed to revolve around the late Mrs Harkness.

As Frith left him in the Morning Room, Ianto looked around; the room’s decoration was feminine without being flowery. The furniture was in a French Rococo style, painted in cream with gilt highlights on the carving. There was no television, though, he noted with disappointment.

Ianto took the chair behind the desk in front of the window. He looked down at the desk and his heart dropped to his stomach. The desktop was still covered in Rebecca’s things; her address book was still there, as was her folder containing her letter paper, monogrammed with a flamboyant ‘R’. What he presumed was her laptop sat open in front of him. Idly, he opened the address book, flicking from page to page. Each page was filled with the contact details of the ‘great and the good’: MPs, titled nobility, celebrities....He closed the book with a thud and pushed it further back onto the desk. As he did so, the address book nudged a china figurine. Ianto lurched forward but failed to catch it before it toppled and fell to the floor, shattering irreparably. He knelt down at the side of the desk and gathered the pieces holding them in his hands and looked over at the waste paper basket. It was then that he heard footsteps in the hall outside, and he leapt to his feet, opening a drawer in the desk, shoving the pieces to the back of the drawer. Before he closed the drawer, he considered the mess in front of him and placed a pile of paperwork on top of the pieces, and then hurriedly closed it to.

The door opened. It was Mrs Cooper.

“Mr Harkness. I’ve come to collect your post?”

“It’s OK, Mrs Cooper- I don’t have anything to send off...”

“Very well, I also have the evening menu- if you’d just like to make a decision on the main course,” Ianto was sure he could detect a sneer as she continued, “Mrs Harkness was always very particular when it came to the menu.”

“Oh, oh...well...” Feeling her gaze upon him, he tried to scan over the menu; the words were a jumble as in his peripheral vision he could still see her eyes fixed upon him, enjoying his unease. “Whatever you think...all the choices look good...”

“I think you’ll find that Mr Harkness is particularly fond of Chef’s Melanzane Parmigiana, Sir.” There was a pleased, almost triumphant, look on Mrs Cooper’s face, as she saw Ianto’s composure fall in the realisation that there was still so little he knew of Jack and his life here at Manderley.

“If that’s all, Sir?”

Ianto nodded his head, aware that for all intents and purposes she had made the decision about dinner for him.

Her work done, Mrs Cooper turned and swept out of the room.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, alternating between trying to concentrate on his newspaper and thinking about Manderley and, in particular, Mrs Cooper. He had not even been at the house for twenty four hours, yet he felt that Mrs Cooper revelled in belittling him, embarrassing him...reminding him that this was Rebecca’s house and not his.

***

Chapter List: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/17042.html