Free Phantom by Susan Kay Page B

and sheltered from the ugliness of reality. We were lovers in all but the fullest sense, for he was too logical, too rational, too sensible, to take the risk of ruining me. He craved a respectable existence, in keeping with the dignity of his profession, and I knew that these hole-in-the-corner assignations were likely to pale in time. Not unreasonably, he wanted some promise of a future.
    But what future could there be when I dared not even invite him for dinner for fear of provoking Erik's violent rage?
    knew this state of affairs could not continue indefinitely; and already there was a soft-footed intruder, whispering with insidious determination at the back of my mind, telling me now what I think I had known from that very first moment in the nave of the church.
    This man would marry you, if you were free.
    If I were free of my misbegotten child.
    If I put him in an institution for the violently insane…
    I was very quiet as we walked back along the riverbank, and long before we came in sight of the village I suggested it would be wiser for me to continue alone.
    "People are beginning to talk. In your position you cannot afford a scandal."
    He put one arm around my shoulders and tilted my face up to his.
    "Madeleine," he said gently, "there doesn't have to be a scandal… you know that, don't you? All I am asking is that you let me examine the boy and give you my professional judgment on his mental state.''
    But I knew that that judgment had already been made, and desperate as I was, 1 was not yet ready to play Judas.
    "You will think about what I have said?" he insisted.
    "Yes," I said dully, "I will think about it."
    But I knew that I would not.
    Etienne was right about the exorcism; it was a thing I should never have permitted. If Erik was not possessed before the ceremony took place, he most certainly behaved as though he was once it was over.
    His respectful attachment to the priest was gone for good. He refused to continue the vocal training that had given them both such delight; but, worse than that, he refused to hear Mass or to have a crucifix in his bedroom. I did not dare to insist, for he had begun to behave so strangely that I found myself growing truly afraid of him. Curious things began to happen in the house when he was near. Articles disappeared, almost before my very eyes, only to return again once I had ceased to search for them. I knew he was responsible, but when I challenged him, he only shrugged and laughed and told me that we must have a ghost.
    Then one day, when a cup had leapt from its saucer and smashed itself in the grate, I discovered a finely pared length of thread attached to the broken handle, and I turned on him in fury.
    "You did that, didn't you! You made it happen!"
    "No!" He backed away from me in sudden fear. "How could I have done that? I wasn't even near it! It was the ghost!"
    "There is no ghost!" I shouted. "There is no ghost— only you, with your infernal threads of silk! Look at it! You haven't been so clever this time, have you? This is one trick I can see straight through."
    He was silent, glaring at the gossamer thread as though his own incompetence angered him. I could almost hear his furious determination that next time there would be nothing to betray his hand.
    "There will not be a next time," I said calmly, and saw his head jerk up in alarm that I should have read his thoughts with such ease. "This wickedness is to cease right away, do you hear me?"
    "It isn't me," he repeated with childish stubbornness. "It's the ghost. The ghost that Father Mansart tried to send away."
    I shook him wildly by the shoulders, until the mask dislodged itself and fell to the floor between us.
    "Stop this madness!" I shrieked. "Stop it at once! If you don't I shall do what Doctor Barye advises and send you away to a terrible place for mad people.
Yes
! That frightens you, doesn't it? Well, I'm glad! I'm glad it frightens you, because perhaps it will make you stop this insane behavior. I