Dead of Night Page #4

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you'd still have thought

the dream was all baloney.

- Good for you, darling!

- I'm becoming quite alarmed.

By the end of this evening, I shall be

just as credulous as any of you.

Mr Craig, I can only say the more

incredulous the doctor becomes...

...the more I believe you.

- Thank you.

Doctor, I'd hoped you'd be able

to explain to me a happening

which, to put it mildly,

has always puzzled me.

I shall try.

It started a few weeks

after we'd become engaged.

It was April 9th, to be exact.

I remember the date,

because it was Peter's birthday.

'You know how difficult it is,

choosing presents for a man.

'They always seem to have

everything they want.'

- Oh, hello, darling.

- Hello, sweet.

Take it through, will you?

- What on earth's that?

- Just a little birthday present.

Put it on the couch, will you?

- What is it, a kite?

- Why don't you open it and see?

Right. Suppose you fix us a drink?

- You haven't had your portrait painted?

- No.

I thought you'd like to look

at yourself.

- Darling, it's a beauty.

- You really like it?

Love it.

It's an improvement on that

barbola thing your aunt gave you.

Yes, that is pretty grim.

Always felt I was looking at a gift horse

in the mouth. This is a honey.

- Where did you find it?

- Chichester. Very expensive.

Happy birthday, darling.

- What sort of journey did you have?

- Came by road. Got a lift.

Don't tell me, let me guess.

Not old faithful?

Hmm, the same.

Poor old Guy.

What will he do when we get married?

Hardly the big-game shooting type, is he?

Hardly. He nearly put us into a ditch

coming up, trying to avoid a rabbit.

Fellow feeling, obviously.

You be careful, I'm very fond of Guy.

You mean it pleases your disgusting

feminine vanity to have him on a string.

A spaniel would do just as well.

Spaniels don't have nice

comfortable Bentleys, do they?

Perhaps you've got something there.

- How's that?

- Most professional.

I'm glad to see you're going

to be useful about the house.

Hmm... handsome couple.

What's the matter?

Nothing. I thought I saw something.

- What sort of something?

- Don't know quite.

What, a little man about so high

in a bowler hat?

- What have you been drinking for lunch?

- One pint of bitter.

- I think I've been very generous.

- So do I. Nicest present I've ever had.

What shall we do tonight?

Dress up, spend a lot of money?

Why not?

- Should've worn our grass skirts.

- Well, we've danced enough anyway.

- Darling, is anything the matter?

- No. Why?

I don't know. You seem to have

been a bit broody all evening.

A bit limp with the heat, I expect.

- Sure there's nothing the matter?

- No, nothing. Really.

That usually means there is

something really. What is it?

- It sounds so damn silly.

- Never mind. Tell me.

Well, you know that mirror

you gave me...

You didn't get it at a joke shop,

by any chance?

No, of course not. Why?

Well, when I was dressing this evening,

just as I was tying my tie,

I suddenly realised

the reflection was all wrong.

What do you mean, "wrong"?

Well, it wasn't my room I was seeing,

it was some other room.

- Darling!

- I told you it sounded silly.

It only lasted for a moment,

but I could've sworn I saw it.

Some sort of optical illusion,

I suppose.

All done with mirrors, in fact.

'The next few weeks,

we were pretty busy house-hunting.

'In the end, we found

quite a pleasant house in Chelsea.

'And of course, I had all the usual chaos

getting ready for the wedding.

'I noticed that Peter seemed

preoccupied and a bit jumpy and irritable.

'But I thought it was just

eve-of-wedding nerves.

'Anyhow, I was so busy, I didn't have

time to think much about it.'

Phew, what a day!

Helen's got measles, so I'll have to find

another bridesmaid somewhere.

The cake's under control,

and I've had a lot more answers.

The Laughtons can't come,

thank heaven.

We've got some perfectly

frightful presents.

I really think we'll have to turn that

spare room into a chamber of horrors.

Which reminds me, when are

the men coming to lay the carpet?

I don't know. I forgot to ring up.

Oh, I'm getting fallen arches

chasing around getting things done

and you can't even remember

a simple telephone call.

For heaven's sake, don't nag!

Sorry, I didn't mean to say that.

Peter, what's the matter with you?

You've been edgy for days.

Yes, I know.

I haven't been sleeping too well.

I really am sorry, darling.

Oh, it doesn't matter. Forget it.

Listen, darling, I know you fairly well.

You're keeping something from me.

What is it?

Well, if you must know,

it's that mirror.

You remember me telling you

that first evening?

Well, it's got worse.

Much worse.

Every time I look in it now,

I see that room.

It's getting me down.

I'd really rather not talk about it.

You'll feel much better if you do.

It's no good bottling things up.

Well...

...at first, if I made

an enormous effort of will,

the reflection used to change

back to what it ought to be.

But lately, however hard I try,

it doesn't change anymore.

The only thing to do

is to try not to look in it at all.

But in a queer sort of way

it fascinates me.

I feel as if that room,

the one in the mirror,

were trying to... to claim me,

...to draw me into it.

It almost becomes the real room

and my own bedroom imaginary.

And I know there's something waiting

for me on the other side of the mirror.

Something evil.

Monstrously evil.

And if I cross that dividing line,

something awful will happen.

Well, let's get rid

of the beastly thing.

You don't have to keep it

just because I've given it to you.

I can take it back

and they'll change it.

The trouble's not in the mirror,

it's in my mind. It must be.

A mirror's just wood and glass.

Peter, I don't know what to say.

Perhaps you're overworked.

Why don't you see a doctor?

I have. He couldn't find

anything wrong with me.

- I'll have to see a mental specialist.

- Oh, nonsense! You're as sane as I am.

Obviously, I can't be!

Listen...

I've been putting off saying this.

But I think we ought

to postpone the wedding.

- That's a bit drastic, isn't it?

- I don't know. Suppose I am going mad?

Wouldn't be much fun for you, would it?

Take you five years to get a divorce.

Really, darling, you're going

a little bit too fast for me.

Let's get the wedding over, then we can

make divorce arrangements afterwards.

Peter, come with me, will you?

Look in the mirror.

What is it, darling?

It's worse than ever.

- You're not there.

- 'But of course I'm there.'

I tell you, you're not.

In the other room, I'm alone.

Look in the mirror and

tell me exactly what you see.

It's just as it always is.

Instead of my bed,

there's the other bed.

I can see it quite clearly.

The posts have vine leaves

twisted round them,

with bunches of grapes at the top.

The hangings are dark red silk.

The walls are panelled.

There's a log fire burning in the grate.

It's no use, I tell you!

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