The Midnight Rose

by Lucinda Riley

  As the doctor prodded and poked her, checking her vital signs, Rebecca lay still. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, but her muddled, exhausted brain couldn’t find the energy to voice the words.

  ‘How’s the headache?’ he asked as he listened to her heart.

  ‘Terrible just now.’

  ‘Well, the chloroform Lord Astbury used won’t have done it any favours. As a matter of fact, I was going to come by and see you tomorrow morning, because I think I’ve discovered what’s been making you feel so ill.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. And I can at least reassure you on that count; there’s absolutely nothing to worry about,’ he smiled.

  ‘Am I pregnant?’

  ‘No, Rebecca, you’re not. In fact, all the tests came back negative. Anyway, I’ll explain my theory tomorrow. For now –’ Dr Trefusis reached into his bag and pulled out a couple of tablets – ‘I suggest you take these. They’re a light sedative, which will calm you down and help you sleep.’

  ‘What’s wrong with Anthony? Why was he dressed up like a little girl? He called himself Alice. I—’

  ‘It’s a very long story, Miss Bradley, and one which I’d be happy to explain at length tomorrow, when you’ve had some rest. But for now, my prescription for you is to tell you that you’re physically fine, very safe here and the best thing you can do is sleep.’ Dr Trefusis stood up. ‘I’ll tell the young man outside he can come back in now. Goodnight.’

  Outside, Ari was pacing up and down. ‘How is she?’

  ‘As you said, unharmed but very frightened. And I don’t blame her.’

  ‘I saw him in his – costume, and even I was terrified,’ admitted Ari. ‘I know Rebecca won’t feel safe until he’s under lock and key. Surely we should be calling the police after what has happened to her tonight? After all, he abducted her.’

  ‘If that’s what Miss Bradley decides she wants, then yes, she should call them,’ Dr Trefusis agreed. ‘But I’d like to talk to her before she does so. I’ll be back to see her early tomorrow morning. Goodnight.’

  Ari watched the doctor leave and re-entered the suite. He perched on the edge of the bed and took Rebecca’s hand in his. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Okay,’ she mouthed, her eyes closed.

  ‘Are you comfortable with me staying in here with you tonight? I can sleep on the sofa in the sitting room next door again.’

  ‘No!’ Her hand gripped his and she opened her eyes. ‘Please don’t leave me alone. Please stay in here, Ari.’

  ‘Of course, if that’s what you’d prefer.’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ she said and her grip relaxed. ‘So many questions,’ she said, sighing.

  ‘I know,’ he said, trying to comfort her, ‘but they’re not for now. Please, Rebecca, try to get some sleep,’ he said as he walked to the chair in the corner of the room.

  ‘Ari?’ she asked shyly.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Would you come and hold me? Then I’ll know it if you leave.’

  ‘Yes, but do you mind if I climb onto the bed next to you? It might be easier than trying it from here.’ He grinned at her.

  ‘Of course.’

  Ari climbed onto the bed and Rebecca turned over and snuggled into his arms like a child.

  ‘Thank you for being here,’ she murmured wearily.

  ‘That’s okay. Sleep well, Rebecca,’ he whispered.

  As a pale but calm Rebecca sat nursing a cup of coffee in her suite the next morning, Dr Trefusis spoke to her.

  ‘Lord Astbury was diagnosed as a schizophrenic when he was in his mid-thirties. He had a breakdown after his mother died and exhibited similar behaviour to what you saw last night. Hardly surprising he lost the plot – his mother, Daisy, controlled him completely, hardly letting him out of her sight for his entire life. Anyway, he was taken into the local psychiatric hospital, where he spent almost a year being stabilised with drugs and constant therapy. No one knows exactly what triggers this condition, whether it’s nature or nurture, but certainly, given Lord Astbury’s difficult childhood, I’m sure that had an effect.’

  ‘He talked to me when he was –’ Rebecca swallowed – ‘dressed up. He said his mother bought him beautiful dresses from Harrods. Surely, that can’t be true?’

  ‘Sadly, it’s perfectly true. Lord Astbury’s mother, Daisy, had been brought up by her grandmother to believe that all men were evil. So, when she herself was forced to marry and produce an heir to the estate, and that heir turned out to be a boy, she refused to accept it,’ Dr Trefusis explained. ‘You can ask Mrs Trevathan, or in fact, her mother, Mabel, who have both known him all of his life. She put ribbons in Lord Astbury’s long hair and he wore dresses every day of his childhood.’

  ‘Oh my God, that poor child,’ Rebecca said. ‘You know, thinking about it, I saw a photograph in his study of a little girl who looked just like Anthony. I thought it was his sister, but it must have been him. What about his father?’ she asked. ‘Didn’t he have something to say about it?’

  ‘From what my own father said, who took over from his father and was Daisy’s doctor at the time, Lord Astbury’s father was an absentee husband and parent. The marriage had been no more than a pragmatic arrangement in the first place. However much Maud Astbury loathed men, she accepted one was needed for her granddaughter to produce an heir. The man she chose for Daisy turned out to be a renowned drunkard and he spent most of his time in London, frittering away the estate’s money. He died there when Lord Astbury was very young.’

  ‘Yes, Anthony told me that once. So it was just Maud, Daisy and Anthony at the Hall as he grew up?’

  ‘Yes, and then Maud died, which should have helped, but by then the damage was done.’ Dr Trefusis shook his head slowly. ‘Daisy refused to send Anthony away to school, and instead had him tutored by a collection of female governesses. Her obsession with Violet, her beautiful but dead mother, didn’t end either. Lord Astbury was brought up to idolise her.’

  ‘Yup, I got that much,’ said Rebecca, irony in her voice.

  ‘Anyway, when he was deemed stable enough to be returned into the community after his breakdown, he came home to Astbury under the care of Mrs Trevathan, who had worked at the Hall as housekeeper for years and understood him. I swear, Miss Bradley, that woman is a saint. She’s dedicated most of her life to his care.’ Dr Trefusis sighed. ‘And as long as all was calm and nothing disrupted the tranquillity and privacy of Astbury Hall, Lord Astbury could function perfectly well. He loved pottering around his beloved garden, which was therapy in itself. The drugs he took every day stabilised him so at least he could have a modicum of normality. He would occasionally disappear off to the cottage on the moors to enjoy what Mrs Trevathan rather euphemistically called “playing house” and “dressing up”. We both felt it was better if he indulged his alter-ego somewhere isolated where he wouldn’t be seen. I checked up on him regularly, of course, as did his psychiatrist, and Mrs Trevathan would contact me if there was any cause for concern. He went for a number of years without having a relapse.’

  ‘I see,’ said Rebecca.

  ‘But earlier this year, he decided to let the film company use the Hall. Money is tight at Astbury and he needed to pay some bills. Mrs Trevathan was against it from the start. She knew him well enough to know he almost certainly couldn’t cope, but what could she do?’

  ‘Nothing, I suppose.’ Rebecca shrugged.

  ‘Then, of course, you arrived. And immediately, Anthony saw a likeness to his dead grandmother, Violet, whom he’d been brought up to believe by his mother was the perfect woman, and the woman his alter-ego is modelled on.’

  ‘The first time Anthony met me in my ordinary clothes, he didn’t react at all,’ mused Rebecca. ‘It was only when he saw me with my hair dyed blonde in my 1920s costume that he told me I was like her.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure he felt he was seeing a ghost. And at the same time – and I’m partly surmising here, because I haven’t yet read the psychi
atrist’s report – he was also having a normal masculine reaction to you as a woman. And this sent him into total confusion. Both personalities were in conflict with each other, both destabilised. As the main, male part of Anthony fell in love with you, the “little girl” didn’t understand what Violet was doing back, because you were supposed to be dead. Do you see, Miss Bradley?’

  ‘Yes,’ Rebecca said slowly, ‘sadly I do. And everything you’ve said fits in with what he told me last night. You know, I also saw him dressed up the other night at the Hall. Mrs Trevathan swore it was her elderly mother I’d seen, but of course, it wasn’t. And I’d heard him singing before too, in a weird high-pitched voice. I’m also pretty sure he came into my bedroom at night,’ Rebecca added with a shudder. ‘I smelt the perfume.’

  ‘I do apologise, Miss Bradley. I know Mrs Trevathan feels very guilty about letting it get so far without taking action. Normally, Lord Astbury’s alter-ego doesn’t make an appearance at the Hall itself. And to be fair to Mrs Trevathan,’ he added, ‘she was only trying to protect him.’

  ‘Well, she certainly knew the day after I’d seen Anthony in the bedroom. It completely freaked me out. She lied to me, Doctor,’ Rebecca reiterated.

  ‘I know, Miss Bradley, but do try and forgive her. She was trying to protect Lord Astbury, because she knew that if he were having a relapse, he’d end up back in the psychiatric hospital. And he hated it there.’

  ‘I do understand, but all this doesn’t let Anthony, or whoever he thought he was last night, off the hook for drugging me, kidnapping me and then tying me up in some cottage in the middle of nowhere!’ Rebecca put her hand to her brow. ‘I’m trying to listen to the reasons why I should just drop this, but I genuinely thought I might die last night!’

  ‘I’m sure you were terrified, Miss Bradley. I’m so very sorry. I feel responsible too, as I should have also seen the warning signs sooner,’ Dr Trefusis said guiltily. ‘You’ll be relieved to know that, as of now, Lord Astbury is under lock and key at a secure psychiatric hospital, which will give him the help he requires. As to whether you bring in the police, that decision must be up to you. Although, the chances are, if you did press charges, Lord Astbury would only end up exactly where he is now. Besides,’ he reminded her, ‘you’d both have to endure dreadful media coverage.’

  ‘I’m aware of that,’ Rebecca said. ‘How long will he be in the hospital for?’

  ‘Until his psychiatrist believes he’s once again stable. Given his current state, I would say that could be many months, if not years, away. Sadly, he may never be well enough to leave.’

  ‘You know, I always felt there was something childlike about Anthony, even when he was himself. I felt like I wanted to protect him somehow . . .’ Rebecca found her eyes suddenly filling with tears. ‘He was such a gentle man, but the horror I saw him become last night – my God, I can’t describe how awful it was.’

  ‘Miss Bradley, for your own sake and his too, please try to remember Lord Astbury as the kind, highly intelligent man you knew, not the freak of nature you saw last night. Given what he suffered as a child, he deserves our pity. He never really stood a chance of a normal existence. And you can certainly rest assured he won’t be causing anyone a problem for a very long time.’

  ‘I understand that. And I do feel desperately sorry for him,’ she agreed.

  ‘Now before I forget, I want to discuss the possible cause of your headaches.’ Dr Trefusis dug in his Gladstone bag for his papers. ‘As I said to you last night, your blood tests all came back negative. However, I did notice slightly higher adrenaline levels than normal in one of them. Tell me, Miss Bradley, do you suffer from hay fever?’

  ‘Why yes.’ Rebecca was surprised. ‘I get it very badly in the States. I noticed my eyes were itchy and Mrs Trevathan said that it was a reaction to the ragwort, or ragweed, as I’d know it, which grows nearby here.’

  ‘Right, next question: have you by any chance been drinking chamomile tea?’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Trevathan made me some regularly; she said it was good for relaxing. I’ve been drinking two or three cups of it a day.’

  ‘Then I think we may have the cause of the problem,’ Dr Trefusis said, relieved. ‘Ragwort and chamomile are from the same plant family, and an allergic reaction to the two taken concurrently can occasionally create an adverse reaction in the bloodstream – especially if the tea is freshly made from an indigenous local species. And cause symptoms like the ones you’ve described. Severe headaches and constant nausea being the most common ones. I would surmise this is what’s been the cause of your problem, Miss Bradley. So,’ Dr Trefusis said, his eyes twinkling, ‘next time I see Mrs Trevathan I’ll tell her that, unwittingly, she was poisoning you!’ He closed his bag and smiled at her. ‘Stay off the chamomile tea from now on and let’s see if those symptoms of yours abate. Now, I’ve left you more sedatives in case you need them, and if you have any further problems, of course I’d be glad to come and see you.’

  ‘Thank you for all your assistance, Doctor,’ she said as he walked towards the door. ‘I’ll have a think about what to do with the Anthony situation.’

  ‘Of course. Goodbye now.’

  Dr Trefusis made his way to the lift and took it down to the lobby.

  ‘How is she?’ asked Ari, who had been pacing back and forth, waiting for the doctor’s return.

  ‘Doing remarkably well under the circumstances,’ he commented. ‘She may look fragile, but she’s a tough young lady.’

  ‘I think she’s been incredible so far,’ Ari said. ‘Before you go, Doctor, there is just one other matter which I’d very much like to discuss with you.’

  ‘Concerning what?’

  Dr Trefusis listened as Ari began to explain.

  Ari made sure Rebecca had eaten lunch and then suggested she take a rest. An hour later, there was a knock at the door and Ari went to open it.

  ‘How is she?’ James Waugh asked. ‘May I come in?’

  ‘Of course you can,’ Rebecca called, smiling as she entered the sitting room.

  ‘Oh good!’ James bounded into the room and came to hug her.

  ‘Rebecca, if you’ve got company, would it be okay if I pop out for an hour or so?’ Ari asked her.

  ‘Yes, that’s fine,’ she agreed.

  ‘I won’t be long,’ he said, ‘and I’ll retrieve your suitcase from the Hall on the way back.’

  ‘Thanks, Ari.’

  ‘You’ve obviously got him where you want him, darling,’ James commented when Ari had left. ‘Anyway, do tell all. You can imagine the film set is awash with gossip about what exactly happened to you last night. I’ve heard stories about you being dragged off to some godforsaken cottage on the moors by Lord Astbury.’

  ‘Who told you that?’ said Rebecca, horrified.

  ‘Who knows where the story came from originally, but I’m sure it’s been blown out of all proportion. Has it?’

  As Dr Trefusis had rightly pointed out, the last thing Rebecca needed was for the story to hit the newspapers. It was the kind that would stick; she would be asked about it forevermore on chat shows. All she wanted to do was forget about it and move on.

  ‘He asked me to marry him and didn’t take it well when I refused,’ Rebecca said briefly, with a hint of irony in her voice.

  ‘My goodness,’ said James, sitting down on the bed and stealing some grapes from the fruit bowl. ‘Bees round the proverbial honey pot with men and you! And what about the handsome Indian who’s playing your protector? Is he another one of your suitors?’

  ‘Ari’s been wonderful,’ said Rebecca defensively. ‘But he’s just a friend.’

  ‘If you say so,’ James said with a smirk. ‘Anyway, darling, it’s good to see you looking more like your old self.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve told Steve that I should be fine to continue shooting tomorrow.’

  ‘Well, I don’t mind the delay in the slightest. As all the scenes I have left are with you, I’ve had a pleasant few days off.’


  ‘With the waitress to keep you company?’

  ‘Touché!’ James grinned. ‘She’s stalking me now, following me around the hotel. I think she wants to have my babies. Sadly, that’s not in my life plan just at the moment. Well, I’ll leave you to it, but if you fancy a light supper later, I’d be more than happy to keep you company.’

  ‘Thanks, James, but I think I’ll stay put in here and have an early night,’ said Rebecca.

  His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. ‘So, where am I currently in the queue for your affections? I must be going up the ranks as you slowly dispatch them.’

  Rebecca gave him a friendly punch on his arm. ‘You’re a player, James. I know you’re not serious.’

  ‘No, probably not,’ he agreed. ‘But I do hope we’ll keep in touch when you go back Stateside. Seriously, Rebecca, I’ve really enjoyed your company. It’s been fun. Robert’s said there’s been a real chemistry on-screen between us. You never know, we could become the next Olivier and Leigh, or Brad and Angie! Anyway, I’m off to see if my pet waitress will serve me a nice cream tea downstairs.’ James kissed her warmly and stood up. ‘See you later, darling.’

  When Ari arrived at Dr Trefusis’ house, he followed him back to the kitchen.

  ‘Do you fancy a cup of tea? I’m just about to put the kettle on.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘As you asked, I’ve sifted through all my grandfather’s patient records for 1922 and haven’t found any details on the death of a child by the name of Moh Chavan or Prasad, on or around the dates you gave me.’

  ‘Well,’ Ari said with a sigh, ‘I’m hardly surprised, to be honest.’

  ‘I’m a little confused about what happened to your relative. You said a death certificate was issued for him?’ the doctor asked as he pulled out two mugs from a cupboard.

  ‘Yes.’ Ari reached into the plastic file and pulled out the certificate. ‘You can see it was signed by your grandfather. But I’ve looked on all the parish and public records for this area and there seems to be no record of it anywhere.’