I saw nothing of Mrs. Danvers. The menu was sent through as usual, and I did not change it. I asked little Clarice about her. She said she was going about her work as usual but she was not speaking to anybody. She had all her meals alone in her sitting room.
Clarice was wide-eyed, evidently curious, but she did not ask me any questions, and I was not going to discuss it with her. No doubt they talked of nothing else, out in the kitchen, and on the estate too, in the lodge, on the farms. I supposed all Kerrith was full of it. We stayed in Manderley, in the gardens close to the house. We did not even walk in the woods. The weather had not broken yet. It was still hot, oppressive. The air was full of thunder, and there was rain behind the white dull sky, but it did not fall. I could feel it, and smell it, pent up there, behind the clouds. The inquest was to be on the Tuesday afternoon at two o’clock.
We had lunch at a quarter to one. Frank came. Thank heaven Beatrice had telephoned that she could not get over. The boy Roger had arrived home with measles; they were all in quarantine. I could not help blessing the measles. I don’t think Maxim could have borne it, with Beatrice sitting here, staying in the house, sincere, anxious, and affectionate, but asking questions all the time. Forever asking questions.
Lunch was a hurried, nervous meal. We none of us talked very much. I had that nagging pain again. I did not want anything to eat. I could not swallow. It was a relief when the farce of the meal was over, and I heard Maxim go out onto the drive and start up the car. The sound of the engine steadied me. It meant we had to go, we had to be doing something. Not just sitting at Manderley. Frank followed us in his own car. I had my hand on Maxim’s knee all the way as he drove. He seemed quite calm. Not nervous in any way. It was like going with someone to a nursing home, someone who was to have an operation. And not knowing what would happen. Whether the operation would be successful. My hands were very cold. My heart was beating in a funny, jerky way. And all the time that little nagging pain beneath my heart. The inquest was to be held at Lanyon, the market town six miles the other side of Kerrith. We had to park the cars in the big cobbled square by the marketplace. Doctor Phillips’ car was there already, and also Colonel Julyan’s. Other cars too. I saw a passerby stare curiously at Maxim, and then nudge her companion’s arm.
“I think I shall stay here,” I said. “I don’t think I’ll come in with you after all.”
“I did not want you to come,” said Maxim. “I was against it from the first. You’d much better have stayed at Manderley.”
“No,” I said. “No, I’ll be all right here, sitting in the car.”
Frank came and looked in at the window. “Isn’t Mrs. de Winter coming?” he said.
“No,” said Maxim. “She wants to stay in the car.”
“I think she’s right,” said Frank; “there’s no earthly reason why she should be present at all. We shan’t be long.”
“It’s all right,” I said.
“I’ll keep a seat for you,” said Frank, “in case you should change your mind.”
They went off together and left me sitting there. It was early-closing day. The shops looked drab and dull. There were not many people about. Lanyon was not much of a holiday center anyway; it was too far inland. I sat looking at the silent shops. The minutes went by. I wondered what they were doing, the Coroner, Frank, Maxim, Colonel Julyan. I got out of the car and began walking up and down the market square. I went and looked in a shop window. Then I walked up and down again. I saw a policeman watching me curiously. I turned up a side street to avoid him.
Somehow, in spite of myself, I found I was coming to the building where the inquest was being held. There had been little publicity about the actual time, and because of this there was no crowd waiting, as I had feared and expected. The place seemed deserted. I went up the steps and stood just inside the door.
A policeman appeared from nowhere. “Do you want anything?” he said.
“No,” I said. “No.”
“You can’t wait here,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I went back towards the steps into the street.
“Excuse me, Madam,” he said, “aren’t you Mrs. de Winter?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Of course that’s different,” he said; “you can wait here if you like. Would you like to take a seat just inside this room?”
“Thank you,” I said.
He showed me into a little bare room with a desk in it. It was like a waiting room at a station. I sat there, with my hands on my lap. Five minutes passed. Nothing happened. It was worse than being outside, than sitting in the car. I got up and went into the passage. The policeman was still standing there.