It had been three days since Bonnie's death. Though it felt like forever, thought Scarlett wearily to herself. She had scarcely slept or eaten since that horrible moment when her darling daughter's life had ended so abruptly, and the nights and days blurred into one horrible nightmare. When not lying in bed staring at the ceiling she wandered the house listlessly. There had been callers of course, come to pay condolences, but she had not been able to find words to say to them. Melly's well meaning sympathy had brought such a painful lump to her throat that she had had to clamp her teeth together to prevent herself from wailing. She felt that her whole world had collapsed around her, that things would never be alright again. For once she did not resent her solemn black mourning clothes. Indeed she felt she might wear them forever.
At the time of Bonnie's accident she had screamed at Rhett that he had killed her. He had gone very quiet and still. Then he had turned without a word and locked himself in his room with Bonnie's body. He had stayed there ever since, refusing admittance to anyone, barely replying to those who tried to speak to him.
Scarlett had initially not wanted to see Bonnie's body, she could not bear the thought of seeing her favourite child as a corpse, so she had let him be. She longed for him to comfort her, but the distance between them meant that was a ridiculous thing to hope for.
But now Rhett's mother had arrived and the funeral was set for the morning. Mammy had told Scarlett with tear filled eyes that Rhett was still refusing everyone admittance to his room and was threatening to not allow the funeral to proceed.
With a tired sigh Scarlett climbed the stairs to his room and knocked on Rhett's door. There was no response.
'Rhett', she called through the door, 'your mother has arrived. The funeral is set for the morning'.
'Over my dead body', he growled, and the hard tone of his voice sent a cold shudder down Scarlett's spine.
'Rhett, be reasonable', she begged. No answer. She sighed. She was lightheaded from lack of sleep and lack of food. She leaned against the door frame for support.
'Please Rhett, let me in, I want to see Bonnie'. No answer. She took a deep breath and tried again.
'Rhett', she said tiredly, 'I don't have the strength to argue with you. You have no right to keep me from my own daughter. Please let me in.'
There was a pause, then the sound of floorboards creaking. The key turned in the lock and the door swung open. An unpleasant odour accousted Scarlett's nostrils. Rhett stood there, holding the doorhandle, swaying a little. Scarlett's eyes widened at the sight of him. He was so disshevelled, so wild looking, so different from his usual debonair self that she scarcely recognised him. Quickly she recovered herself and stepped into the room before he could shut her out again. He closed and locked the door behind her and stood leaning against it, eyeing her warily.
She in turn stood gaping at him wordlessly. His clothes were crumpled, there was stubble on his chin, his eyes were bloodshot and there were dark rings under them. His hair was not brushed. She could smell stale sweat and whisky on him. The sight of him so altered disturbed her, and she felt her heart pounding in her chest, though she was not sure why.
He continued to return her stare and she wondered suddenly if she looked as bad as him.
Rhett's voice broke into her thoughts. He said tonelessly, 'I believe you wanted to see Bonnie', and he waved his arm in the direction of their daughter's body.
Scarlett approached the body hesitantly. This cold, pale, blotchy thing could not be her beloved daughter. She caught her breath and turned away, struggling for control. But she could not hold back her tears. She stood with her back to Rhett, sobbing uncontrollably.
She did not know how long she stood there, sobbing desolately, with her face in her hands. But she was very aware that Rhett did not come to comfort her, and it made her sob all the more.
When her tears finally slowed to the hiccup stage, she wiped her eyes and turned around. At first she did not see Rhett in the dim room. He was sitting on the floor, with his back to her, against the bed. His arms were crossed and his knees drawn up. He was rocking slightly, and Scarlett thought he looked strangely like Wade did sometimes, when he was frightened of events beyond his control.
'Rhett?' she said. But he did not respond. She moved to stand in front of him, but he gave no sign of having seen her. He did look oddly like a child, she thought, a child who needed comforting. 'Are you alright?' she asked uncertainly. Still he appeared not to be aware of her presence. Her heart beat wildly as she cautiously came closer. Slowly she sank to her knees beside him and reached out her hand to touch his arm.
At first he did not react, and she kept her hand on him uncertainly. Then slowly his fingers moved to cover hers, and he made a strange choking sound. She realised, with horror, that he was crying. He still did not look at her, and for a moment she froze, unsure what to do, unsettled by such a display of raw emotion in this man who had never before given her so much as a glimpse of his feelings. It made her feel like an intruder, and she wondered if she should leave him to grieve in private. She hesitated. As she observed him it occurred to her (rather belatedly), that while she had lost her favourite child, he had lost his adored only child. And perhaps he blamed himself for Bonnie's accident too. No wonder he looked distraught, she thought. Her grief was deep, but suddenly she understood that her own pain must be only a fraction of what he must be feeling.
Wordlessly she gathered him into her arms, pressing his head against her heart. She held him while he cried.
Finally, his breathing became more regular, and he pulled away from her. 'I am sorry', he said in a strained voice, looking away from her as he struggled to compose his features.
Scarlett watched him in a kind of stunned daze. She did not know how to treat this Rhett, so different from his usual sardonic, suave self. This Rhett was old, tired, and hurting. This Rhett was not in control, not mocking her or goading her. This Rhett, she thought, did not at all resemble the handsome, fearless blockade runner she had once known. This Rhett looked like he actually needed her.
'Rhett', she said hesitantly, 'you look tired, come and lie down a while'.
'I am very tired', he agreed, running his fingers through his hair. 'But it is difficult to sleep'.
'Yes', said Scarlett, sighing. 'I have not been sleeping well either. Come, sit on the bed and I will get you a drink'.
'Thank you,' he murmured as she passed him a whisky. And he looked at her, in a puzzled way, as if wondering who this woman was who looked like the self absorbed, uncaring woman he had married but acted so differently.
Scarlett sat hesitantly on the edge of the bed beside him and bit her lower lip as she pondered the problem of Rhett refusing to allow Bonnie's funeral. 'Rhett, Bonnie is. . is..' She bit her lip again. How could she even admit to herself that her dear daughter's body was beginning to decompose, and smelled bad. It was too painful to talk about.
'Yes, I know', he answered dully, reading her thoughts. 'But I can't bear the thought of her under the ground in the darkness.' He began to sound agitated. 'I just can't do that to her'.
There was a long silence. Scarlett frowned, then swallowed hard. 'That corpse is not Bonnie, Rhett. It's just an empty shell that once contained Bonnie. She is not there anymore. Can't you tell when you look at it that she is not there?' She paused. Rhett looked unconvinced, so she pressed on. 'Bonnie would not want you to keep that shell in your room, to watch it decay, to see it crawling with maggots. To smell that awful stench.'
'Scarlett, have mercy,' he interrupted, in an anguished voice. And he looked away, staring into the distance, his face grey.
She saw again how old and tired he looked, and her heart softened. Quietly she knelt beside him and slipped his shoes off. He looked at her in surprise, but did not speak.
'Lie down Rhett, and try to rest,' she implored.
'I can't', he answered.
He looked at her in silence for a few moments.
'Would you … ' he said hesitantly. Then he pressed his lips together and looked away again.
Scarlett's tired brain struggled to try to understand what he was trying to say. 'What, Rhett? Would I what?'
'No, it doesn't matter. Nothing.' he sighed.
'Don't shut yourself off from me,' she snapped in frustration. 'I need you.'
'You've never needed me', he answered with sudden bitterness.
'You're wrong Rhett. I do need you.'
'I wish I could believe you'.
The silence hung between them. Scarlett's eyes filled with tears. She must be very tired, she reflected, to cry so easily. But how had things got so bad between them? It all seemed so hopeless.
Suddenly Rhett reached over and softly brushed a tear off her cheek. Then he wordlessly pulled her to him and pressed his lips into her hair. His large hands stroked her back with infinite tenderness.
It had been so long since she had been in his arms, she had almost forgotten how wonderful it was to be held by him. How safe she felt, leaning into his broad, muscular chest. Silent tears coursed down her cheeks as she snuggled close to him. After a long time she lifted her face to his. 'Rhett,' she said hesitantly, 'I didn't mean what I said about . . about. . what I said the other day. I know you would never harm her. It was just a horrible accident.' She looked into his eyes and saw such depths of pain there that she was left completely speechless. For a long time neither of them spoke.
Eventually they pulled apart. Scarlett stood up awkwardly. 'I suppose we should both try to get some sleep. I will see you in the morning. Good night.' She turned to go but Rhett grasped her arm and turned her to face him.
'What I was going to say before,' he said quietly, 'is . . .would you stay with me tonight?' He looked so vulnerable as he spoke that her heart turned over. 'Of course, if you would prefer your own bed, I would understand,' he continued smoothly, attempting nonchalence. Scarlett found that her voice would not work, so she just nodded.
'You will stay?' he asked. 'I won't do anything … anything you might find disgusting'. She nodded again, a faint blush creeping over her cheeks as she recalled the events he referred to.
'Thank you, my dear', he said softly.
'I don't know how I shall bear the funeral tomorrow,' he continued, 'but it must be done.'
Scarlett nodded again, and finally found her voice. 'Bonnie would want you to be strong Rhett. We must bear it together.'