Long Goodbyes Read Online Free PDF Page A

with my head in my hands.

    Jack did not return home until after I had retired. I heard him downstairs muttering and pacing but did not wonder that he did not come up to bed immediately, our earlier disagreement being sufficient reason, so I imagined, to keep us at a distance. I was tired, however, and although I had intended to stay awake until he must come to bed, I nevertheless tired of my reading and drifted into a fitful sleep.  
    I awoke to find the bedsheets cold beside me. I found matches on the bedside table and lit the lamp; its flickering flame confirmed that I was indeed on my own. The grandmother clock in the corner told me it was shortly after 3am. Taking the lamp I went to the landing, paused at the staircase, and called Jack’s name. There was no response; the cottage was still and quiet. I placed my bare foot onto the first step but hesitated as I heard a faint rustle from the parlour. My heart was beating like a drum and I felt suddenly fearful of what I might find downstairs. Shadows danced eerily upon the walls as my shaking hand held the lamp aloft. Taking a moment to compose myself I continued my descent and at last came to the foot of the stairs.
    For a moment I imagined the parlour to be deserted, but then I saw that someone was sitting in the corner, bolt upright, in the spindle-legged chair. The noise I had heard was the slight creak of the wooden frame upon the parlour’s flagstones as the figure shifted slightly, just as one would do if in an uncomfortable position.  
    It was not Jack.
    I stood rigid, completely paralysed. The lamplight only revealed the legs and midriff of whoever occupied the chair; the head and shoulders were deep in the shadows but I could tell from his build and attire that it was a man, even though the style of the shoes and stockings belonged to another age. My hand was shaking so badly by this stage that I almost dropped the lamp, but the terror of being left in the dark with this unknown visitor kept my hand tightly curled about the brass handle. I tried to speak but no words came.  
    The chair creaked again but this time loudly, as if its occupant meant at last to rise. A sudden draught made the lamp flare and for a brief moment the shadows fled. I heard myself scream; the lamp fell from my nerveless fingers and I felt the cold stone of the parlour floor on my cheek.
    Somewhere, as though from a long way off, I heard the front door open and shut.
    ‘Jenny?’
    I felt Jack’s strong arms encircle my shoulders, and whether through relief or repressed terror, fell into a deep faint.

    ‘You haven’t been well. That’s all it was,’ Jack set a cup of tea down on the bedside table. ‘You must have had a bad dream, or perhaps you were still asleep when you came downstairs. It’s not unheard of. Some of our chaps used to march in their sleep, they were so exhausted.’
    ‘I know what I saw. I wasn’t asleep,’ I said.  
    ‘Look,’ Jack said, his face kinder and softer than I had seen it of late, ‘you must rest again for a day or so and put this out of your mind.’
    ‘Where were you? It was so late. Why did you leave me for so long?’  
    ‘I hadn’t intended to,’ he said, and something about the way he said it inclined me to believe him. ‘I was on my way back when I ran into Benjamin. He invited me for a drink, and I’m afraid we got talking. It was later than I realised by the time we parted.’
    My heart skipped a beat. ‘So it wasn’t you I heard downstairs. I’d gone to bed, you see, and I heard you in the parlour, but if it wasn’t you… then who…?’
    ‘Jenny, Jenny. You must have imagined that as well. Perhaps you had already dropped off to sleep.’
    ‘Do you really think so?’ I wanted to believe it.
    He placed his hand upon my forehead. ‘Yes. I do think so.’
    ‘Very well, then. I am somewhat reassured.’ I tried to smile for him. ‘But I am glad you found some male company,’ I said. ‘You must miss it. It’s good for