In fact, as the days went by, it was her mother-in-law’s disappearances that began to worry Joanna, rather than those of her husband. Even Robert began to notice them.
“Where’s Mother?” he asked her one afternoon, joining her on the beach rather earlier than she’d expected. “I thought she was here with you.”
“She’s gone off for a walk on the cliffs, I think,” said Joanna vaguely, and with a slight sense of unease.
“Again? She’s always doing that. What’s the matter with her, Jo? She’s so quiet these days, and keeps going off like this. What is it?”
“I think she goes to see Mrs. Pratt on the cliff sometimes,” said Joanna guardedly, wondering as she spoke what new ideas Mrs. Pratt might even now be instilling into their mother’s all too suggestible mind.
“And another thing,” continued Robert. “She’s becoming so — how can I put it? — so
He laughed as he spoke, and Joanna laughed with him; but behind the joking, she sensed an uneasiness in him which she could not but share. After a quick swim, impelled by a vague and unspoken anxiety, they made their way back to the bungalow.
Joanna was walking a little ahead, and so it was she who saw it first: a carelessly folded sheet of paper lying just inside the front door. Only after she had picked it up and read the brief message did she notice that it was addressed to Robert:
“By the time you read this, I shall be dead. Forgive me, I can see no other way out.
Together they stared at it.
“It’s just a bit of play-acting, of course,” said Robert at last, though his voice shook a little. “She’s always threatening this sort of thing. It’s... I... Look, Jo, I’m sorry! I think I’d better tell you the truth...!”
“If you mean the truth that you’ve been having an affair with the bloody woman and ruining our whole holiday, then don’t bother!” burst out Joanna. “I
“Jo...! Jo...!” He grasped her arm and pulled her back. “Jo, darling, it’s
How quickly Joanna would have allowed herself to be convinced, and to wallow in the joys of reconciliation, would never be known, for no sooner had he begun moving to take her into his arms than a sudden commotion made them both turn round. Stumbling, half-running through the sandy grass beyond the door, came Mrs. Trent; gasping for breath, her face scarlet, her grey curls plastered against her forehead and a wild look in her eyes.
“Corinne!” she gasped. “She’s dead! She jumped over the cliff and killed herself!”
Robert gripped his mother’s arm to support her.
“What do you mean? How do you know?”
“I saw her! I happened to be walking along the cliff, and I looked down and I saw her! Stone dead on the rocks below!”
“Look, Mother, sit down and tell us about it quietly. You found her dead on the rocks. How do you know it wasn’t an accident? How do you know she killed herself?”
“Why, she left a note, didn’t she? I—” Mrs. Trent suddenly grew more scarlet than ever, and burst into tears. Robert’s voice was very grave.
“How do you know about the note? Come on, Mother, tell us exactly what happened?”
“I didn’t mean to say anything about the note! Oh dear, I’m all in a muddle. I meant people to think
“
“I have not!” retorted his mother, with a semblance of returning dignity. “You talk as if I’m senile! I’ve