Episode 3
Roger stood in the doorway, staring at his wife. He couldn't help but notice how dramatically her appearance had improved since the last time he had seen her, six months into her stay at the sanatarium. There, her face had been gaunt and pale; her milk-chocolate colored hair dull and limp. Her eyes then had seemed to be staring at something only she could see. Now, her face was full, the color had returned to her cheeks and the glowing smile that had first attracted him to her was back in force. Her hair was shorter now, only shoulder-length where it had been halfway down her back when the fire had occured, and done in the loose-curl style that he remembered so fondly. Her blue eyes were joyous, full of life. "How--" He cleared his throat. "How did you get here?"
"They just released me this morning. I wanted to get here sooner, but there was a three-hour delay on my flight, which made me miss the train from Boston. I've missed you, Roger. And David. Is he well?"
At that question, Roger snapped out of the reverie her deep, sensuous voice had put him in. "Yes, I think he finally is. Now that Elizabeth's found a governess he isn't able to scare off, anyway. Do you have any bags with you?"
Laura laughed lightly. "I thought just my release would be enough of a shock for you without just trying to pick up where we left off. It's been a long time and you might want a few days to make any...decisions. So I took a room at the Collinsport Inn and left my bag there before coming over. Well, my cab IS waiting."
"If you MUST stay at the Inn, at least come in for a light drink first. I can drive as well as any cabbie."
"Certainly better than this one, anyway," she chuckled. "Just let me pay him."
Roger stared after her as she walked from the doorway to the yellow cab. Just a few months ago, he'd made the painful admission to Elizabeth that if it would have saved Laura's sanity, he'd have left David in the burning room. It was an admission he had to tear out of himself and one that left him with a powerful sense of shame. Now, it seemed possible, even likely, that he could at least try to have both. As he watched her reach into her purse for her wallet, he found himself wondering if he had really meant that admission. Was it too late to save their marriage? Had it been too late from the first night he'd spent with Maggie Evans? He sighed. It was going to be a long night.
** ** **
Collinwood. The Next Day, Noon...
The sun shone down brightly and, for a distinct change, barely a cloud hung in the sky. Elizabeth stood near a window in the drawing room and looked out to where David was playing. She smiled. It was at times like this that she could almost forget all the troubles that had visited the family over the past four months. Daphne's death. Mike Woodard turning out to be the vampire who had killed her. The strange events following the seance. And storms the likes of which Collinsport hadn't seen since the last years of the 19th Century.
She turned as she heard a knock upon the drawing room doors, suddenly remembering the message that had been relayed to her at breakfast that morning. Quentin was in Collinsport to see his daughter. She wished she had not taken upon herself the responsibility of telling him about Daphne's death. Roger volunteered to stand with her when she delivered the news, but he had to make a decision on the future of his marriage, so she "pulled rank" as his older sister and told him to leave it to her.
"Send him in," she said absentmindedly when a voice announced his arrival. She looked up to see him standing in the doorway. 'My God,' she thought, 'it's been over 20 years since he left Daphne in our care and he looks like he hasn't aged a day.' "Quentin, welcome back to Collinwood. It's been a long time."
"Far too long," he replied, crossing the room and hugging her. "Is Daphne in? I've got a lot explaining to do."
Elizabeth looked closely at him. Before he had left Collinwood those years before, she had often tried teasing him into revealing his age. Not once had she been successful. Yet she knew that he must be either Roger's age or her own. And he showed absolutely no signs of it. There were no wrinkles anywhere to be found on his face, nor could she see a single strand of gray hair. He seemed to have completely stopped aging. She shoved her curiosity aside. The answers to her questions would simply have to wait. "Perhaps you'd like to sit down," she suggested.
Quentin took off his navy blue jacket, put it on the back of a chair and sat down. Elizabeth pulled up a chair and sat across from him. "Is something wrong, cousin Elizabeth?" he asked in his deep, rich voice.
She sighed, drew herself up straight and looked him directly in the eye. "Quentin, Daphne 'died' about four months ago. She was the victim of a vampire attack. We tried to protect her, but one night she...got onto the grounds. We found her body the next day. On the night of the funeral, she came back, attacking her fiance. The sheriff and his men found her the next night and stopped her before she could kill him. This sounds ridiculous, I know. But every word of it is true."
Quentin closed his eyes and forced back tears. First his wife and then his daughter. Both had fallen victim to vampires within months of each other. He stood up abruptly, turned towards the drawing room's entrance, took a step, then stopped. Sighing, he ran his hands nervously through his hair. "I--I wish it did sound ridiculous, Elizabeth. The man who kidnapped Daphne's mother, who I hunted and chased for all these years, he too was a vampire." His voice was suddenly soft, almost a whisper. "What he did to her, what he made her become...she couldn't live with it. He'd kept her restrained for nearly ten years so she wouldn't end her existence, so she could suffer with what she was. When I finally dealt with him, we had one--one last night together before we took a walk in the forest and she..." His voice cracked and he made no effort to complete the sentence. Elizabeth walked over to him and put her hand on his right shoulder. He reached over with the opposite hand and gripped hers tightly as the first tears ran down his face.
"Most of Daphne's things are still in her room," she said. "If you'd like to see them..."
Tha--Thank you. I'd like that."
** ** **
Outside Collinwood, 2:30 P.M....
Laura stood on the path to Collinwood's front door, watching her son as he bounded up to the door. 'God,' she thought, 'doesn't anyone ever take him to get a haircut?' A brief flash of queasiness flashed through her stomach as she opened her mouth to call to him.
"David!" she yelled. He spun around and stared quizzically at her, knowing that he knew her, but not remembering how. "David, it's me. Your mother." She walked over to him. 'He doesn't know me,' she thought angrily. 'I'm his mother and he doesn't know me.' She got down on one knee and hugged him tightly. "It's so good to be back home!" she exclaimed.
"Mom? Dad said you were in the hospital. Are you OK now?"
"Yes, honey. I'm fine now. Especially now that I'm here with you." David flinched in embarassment as she pinched and lightly shook his cheek. "Is your father home? I'd like to talk with him. AFTER I get all caught up with you."
"Nah. He's at the gallery, getting ready for his show next week. But no one's supposed to know it's him. He doesn't like to talk about it." He took out a 19th Century pocket watch he had found while playing with Sarah in the West Wing one time. She had insisted that he keep it. "He's supposed to be back in fifteen minutes."
Laura gaped at the design on the cover of the watch. 'Noah's watch. How?' "That's a beautiful watch, honey. Where did you get it?" "It was in one of the Wings when me and Sarah were playing there. Sarah's my friend. She's a ghost."
I see," Laura replied, forcing a smile. 'Well,' she thought, 'here we go again.'
** ** **
The Old House, 8:30 P.M....
Barnabas sat silently in front of the fireplace, listening to the crackling of the logs and watching the flickering of the flames. Victoria was back in this time and in his life. If he ever wanted to walk along the beach with her on a warm spring day, or to grow old alongside her, the time had come to take action. He turned his head to look at Willie, who was standing off to the side. "Willie, go to Doctor Hoffman and tell her I would like to see her."
As Willie scampered out into the hall, Barnabas stood up. Knowing Willie, it would be nearly an hour until he returned. An hour in which Barnabas would have nothing whatsoever to do.
He left the drawing room and walked briskly to the library. Once there, he scanned the shelves. Most of the books had been purchased less than a month before and the majority of them had been recommended by Julia. She said that they represented the best in literature from the past two hundred years. His eyes lighted upon a hardcover edition of DRACULA. He still could not fathom why she had recommended that, of all books. Perhaps she had a more ironic sense of humor than he had credited her with. He decided to take the opportunity to finish it, pulled it from the shelf above his head and went back into the drawing room. Less than ten minutes later, he heard a knock upon the door. 'Why is it,' he thought, 'that lately I have only gotten visitors AFTER I've sent Willie somewhere?' He set the book on the floor next to his favorite chair, went to the door and opened it.
"Victoria. Come in." He helped her remove her coat and put it on the rack for her. "I hadn't expected to see you tonight."
"I saw something strange tonight. Daphne's father just showed up in Collinsport last night. Barnabas, he looks exactly like Jeremiah." Barnabas' eyebrows shot up.
** ** **
9:30 P.M....
Willie stood in the hall of the Old House, talking to his aunt on the phone that Barnabas had had installed just the day before. The two of them had to move the coffin to the mausoleum the previous night and Willie's arms still throbbed with a dull ache. "Oh, but Auntie," Willie whined plaintively into the receiver, "do I gotta go meet cousin Ellen? Me and her, you know we don't get along."
"Willie," Mrs. Johnson replied, "aside from yourself, Ellen is the last of the Loomises. You will meet her at the train station and the two of you WILL get along. And when you get back, I'll have your favorite suppers waiting for the two of you."
"Oh, all right," Willie gave in. "Listen, Auntie, I gotta go. I didn't get any sleep last night and I'm startin' to see things that just ain't there. Yes, I promise to take better care of myself. I love you too, Auntie Johnson." Willie hung up the phone and blinked to try to clear what he thought he had seen from his eyes. When he opened them again, the vision of a knife hovering before the doors to the drawing room was still there.
To Be Continued...
Dark Shadows and all its characters and places belong to Dan Curtis Productions.