wanda1969

Rebecca Chapter 4 (part 3 of 3)

In so few short weeks it was all so much different from those early days of optimism, when Ianto had at first thought his and Jack’s life could have so much promise. Ianto thought back. It was all so new then, and full of expectation.

That first day, he and Jack had left the car, laughing at the rain, Jack seeming impatient to welcome his new husband into his home. That hope had faded as soon as they’d stepped in through the door and into the Great Hall. He imagined he’d seen Jack’s face fall as he suddenly realised the folly of bringing him back- a ‘male bride’- a laughing stock for the staff of Manderley and, no doubt, the local village?

In the subsequent weeks he’d grown used to the pitying looks of the staff. Mrs Cooper had been a different matter. Her looks were of disdain, or disgust, he thought, and it had become more than obvious that at every step he was being compared to the perfect and beautiful Rebecca.

Hell, even Myfanwy had rejected him, been wary of his presence in her house. Until he’d found Myfanwy’s weakness for dark chocolate. He hadn’t been too obvious though, just a small square of the rich chocolate here and there. This had been a breakthrough for Ianto- Myfanwy was just a dog, a lovely dog, granted, but he felt that at last he had an ally in this rambling house, brooding on the cliff above the sea and isolated in so many ways from the outside world.

Standing, he paced the room. It was time to put a stop to this. In just a few weeks, Manderley had taken its toll on him and his confidence; he had never been the most extroverted of people, but he had certainly been able to hold his own in his career, and socially, too.

Only ten minutes earlier he had been heading to the West Wing- he set out again, resolving that he would not be stopped from his mission to confront Rebecca’s ghost.

He left the Morning Room, and walked through the hall, and made his way up the Great Stairs. He paused at the top and looked along the landing. In the distance he could see the ornately carved doors of Rebecca’s room. He steeled himself, and then walked quickly towards the closed door. It seemed to take an age before he reached it, hesitating before he finally allowed his hand to close around the doorknob, turning it, and finally pushing open the door.

He found himself in a sort of anteroom, with an archway dressed with more of the fine organza curtains that he’d seen at the open window. He pushed the curtains aside and walked through the archway. The room was vast; the ceiling was at least twelve feet high and vaulted in a gothic style, and the windows reached almost up to the full height of the room. Dominating the room was a gigantic carved four poster bed with yet more of the matching organza fabric hangings. He could see several doors leading off the main room- a dressing room, a bathroom, a study, he guessed. The room was painted white and unmistakeably feminine. Ianto couldn’t imagine Jack in this room; their own room was all wooden panelling and plainness.

There was a slight musty smell, and he walked over to one of the windows, drew back the heavy drapery and opened the window.

The light streamed through the fine inner curtains- the room was brighter now, and he could see more details: a chaise longue, a dressing table next to the window, with a photograph of Jack in a silver frame. He moved closer. The dressing table top still had Rebecca’s hairbrush and things upon it- Chanel face powder here, matching foundation there. He ran his hand over her possessions. Staring around, he could see fresh flowers on the bedside tables, on the sideboard against the far wall.

Then he felt the same uneasy feeling of being watched as he had earlier in the Morning Room, and turned abruptly. Once more, he saw Mrs Cooper standing behind him.

“Did you want something, Sir?”

“Oh. Oh. I didn’t expect to see you, Mrs Cooper. I was in the Morning Room...I saw the window open and I came up to shut it...” he said, wondering why he felt the need to explain his actions to Mrs Cooper.

“I made sure the windows were closed before I left, so why would you say that?” Now that the two were alone here, he noticed that Mrs Cooper was more...confrontational. The West Wing was her domain.

Ianto found himself unable to reply; he was shocked and embarassed by her questioning.

“You always wanted to come here, Sir, didn’t you? Why didn’t you say so? I was ready to show it to you every day...” Mrs Cooper’s questions were rhetorical, and she didn’t wait for an answer.

“I told you that these were the most beautiful rooms in the house, didn’t I? Everything here is just as Mrs Harkness left it...come on, I’ll show you the rest.”

The Housekeeper turned and walked to one of the doors that Ianto had seen earlier. There was little Ianto could do but follow her as she opened the door and walked through. Inside were wardrobes and drawers, and open shoe racks. Ianto’s eyed the shoes- rows of Manaolo Blahniks, Louboutin, Gucci...

He looked up, Mrs Cooper was opening the wardrobe doors. Even from this distance the labels were visible on the clothes inside: Chanel, Dior, Missoni....

“Mr Harkness always made sure that Mrs Harkness had the best- even her underwear,” she opened a drawer. “See? All handmade in France- nothing but the best would do for her. He made sure of that.”

Ianto felt his stomach knot. He had no desire for such things, obviously, but they were surely an indication of Jack’s devotion to Rebecca. He felt his stomach lurch again as he looked at Mrs Cooper’s face. She looked at the clothes in front of her and seemed to be in another world, a world where Rebecca still inhabited these rooms.

Waving her hand at another wardrobe of cocktail dresses and ball gowns, she spoke again. “They would go to parties, and only return at dawn, exhausted. They made the perfect couple: she was so very beautiful, and he so handsome and distinguished. Mrs Harkness would come back to her room and I would be waiting for her. She’d tell me about the fun that they’d had, about who’d been there. She knew absolutely everyone that mattered; everyone loved her.”

The Welshman felt the need for space and made his way out of the dressing room towards the window, but Mrs Cooper followed him.

“You’ve touched her things,” she said moving the pot of face powder back a fraction of an inch, a fraction of an inch that most people wouldn’t even have noticed, and then looked into the distance beyond Ianto. “It’s as if she’s here even now. Do you think the dead return and watch over us? Over you...and Mr Harkness? I often fancy that I can hear her voice, her footsteps...”

Ianto was speechless; it was as if Mrs Cooper, like Jack, could not accept the loss of Rebecca. He knew that his face showed his thoughts, his doubts over Jack’s commitment to him.

Mrs Cooper looked him in the eye, before she turned to the window and looked out to the sea. “Sir you look tired. Perhaps you need to sit down? Stay here and rest? The sound of the sea in this room is so very soothing. Listen. So very soothing...”

Again Mrs Cooper was in another world as she mumbled softly about the sea. The young man turned and left the room. As he took one last look back, Mrs Cooper was still staring out to sea, talking almost inaudibly to herself.

***

Returning to the Morning Room, Ianto sat in Rebecca’s seat at the desk.

He was unsure how long he had been there, staring at her monogrammed writing paper, her address book. This had been her room, too. No longer- he resolved that from now on this would be his room, his house.

Ianto picked up the telephone and dialled the servants’ quarters.

“Ah, Frith...I was trying to contact Mrs Cooper. Could you find her please? And tell her that I want to see her, here, in the Morning Room, as soon as possible...Thank you, Frith.”

He replaced the telephone on the receiver, and waited. He took the address book, the letters Rebecca had kept and her writing paper, and took them to the fireplace throwing them onto the fire. It seemed as if only a few moments had passed as he looked into the flames and they consumed her belongings; the writing paper and her letters blackened around the edges until only the address book was stubbornly refusing to be reduced to ashes. There was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

Mrs Cooper opened the door and walked into the room

“You wanted to see me, Mr Harkness?” Ianto detected that sneering tone in her voice once again, and a defiant look in her eyes.

He steeled himself, refusing to be intimidated, before he spoke, “Yes, yes I did, Mrs Cooper. I want you to remove all of Mrs Harkness’ things from this room. From every room that Mr Harkness and I use.” He would deal with Rebecca’s bedroom another time.

“But those are Mrs Harkness’ things...” Mrs Cooper started as she looked at the hearth. The flames had finally taken hold, and Rebecca’s address book was staring to burn. They could both see the front of the address book turning black, eventually destroying the cover and the writing on the front- ‘Rebecca Harkness Addresses’.”

“Yes- yes, they are. But Mrs Harkness is no longer here. And all of her belongings are to be removed. Jack will be back this evening, and I won’t tell him about Mr Hart’s visit- I would like to forget everything that happened today.” He picked up the laptop that sat on the desk whilst Mrs Cooper- Gwennie- stood, there with undisguised hatred on her face.

“As you wish,” she said eventually.

“As I said, I won’t say anything to Mr Harkness- but things have got to change here at Mandereley. If not, I may have to think about this again.”

“That will be all, Mrs Cooper. If you could carry out my instructions now, please.”

“Of course, Sir.” She bit her lip as she turned around and left the room. Ianto was glad that she didn’t realise that as soon as she left he was about to leave through the French windows- the laptop and whatever secrets it held was destined to be thrown into the sea.

***

Ianto had carried out his plan- he had watched the computer as it tumbled onto the rocks and then was gone, as the breakers washed away the pieces. He’d then headed towards the library, the room he’d always felt most comfortable in; it was the room that he and Jack had always spent the most time in together. He’d poured himself a double gin and tonic, and sat on the sofa, awaiting Jack’s return. Sometime around nine o’clock he heard voices in the Hall.

The door to the library opened as Jack entered.

Ianto was relieved to see that Jack smiled broadly and actually looked pleased to see him after last night’s events.

“Have you missed me?” he drawled.

“Of course I have.” Ianto said as he got up from the sofa and walked over. He wrapped his arms around the older man’s waist and kissed him. So much had happened it felt as if Jack had been away for a week, never mind only a day. He drew away, “How was London?”

“Busy...dull...without you...And you?”

The younger man was reassured that whatever had happened yesterday seemed to have been forgotten.

“Good, good, I think. I hope I’ve sorted out a few things with Mrs Cooper.” He said and leaned in for another kiss.

Jack manoeuvred him over to the sofa and pulled Ianto onto it next to him.

“Jack, I think we need to have people over- Toshiko talked about the parties, the balls. We should at least have a party welcoming your friends – I ought to meet them. We’ve been here for over a month, and I don’t know anyone around here, yet.”

“What’s brought this on?”

“Nothing- it’s just that I think we should behave as if Manderley is just as it always was. With parties and open days, and visitors...”

Jack laughed and he moved in for another kiss. “Ok, but I’ll tell you now that I’m crap at parties- you’ll have to sort this all out.”

“Not a problem, Cariad.”

***

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