#danbea

Before Bee could finish her sentence, before I had good and well processed her words, she had been cut off by Mrs Danvers’ hand, clamped over her mouth. It had happened so swiftly she had to stabilize herself, putting her hands on Mrs Danvers’ waist.

I was speechless, too. Never would I have expected Mrs Danvers to act in such a way, so human-like. Like any school-girl would, had a friend been on the verge of spilling her deepest secret. Like if a classmate were to tell the boy you fancied about your affection for him.

I was so utterly confused, but Beatrice sounded relieved. I saw her move her hands to Mrs Danvers’ cheeks. “There you are.”

Mrs Danvers let her head fall back against the library door, turned it to the side. It was not a smile, per se, but I could see her frown disappear, could see the corners of her mouth turn up slightly. “Please just get this over with, Bea,” she said, looking her in the eye.

This whole encounter was so strange. I did realize in that moment, for the first time in all these months, that they must have known each other for many, many years, long before I ever arrived at Manderley, and that they must have an extensive history of shared memories. Of Rebecca, of Maxim, of the staff and the grounds and the dogs and the rooms and the parties and th—

“Alright.”

“Come sit with me,” Rebecca said.

She moved over on the bed and patted the covers next to her. Beatrice sat down on the edge of the bed. A blush had crept into her cheeks at Danny’s invitation. She would not meet Rebecca’s eye.

“Now, seeing how late it is I highly doubt Rebecca and I will be up at our usual time,” Danny said. “I don’t suppose we’d have breakfast ready until at least half nine. How does that sound?”

“Wonderful,” Beatrice said, a little too quickly. “It sounds wonderful.”

“Good.” Danny turned on the chair and gave Beatrice a small smile, sweeping her hair over her shoulder to begin braiding it. “While you’re here, I would very much like to hear more about that yellow rose you mentioned earlier. Did you find it difficult to maintain?”

“No, not at all.” As Beatrice continued to answer Danny’s questions, Rebecca reached out and put a hand on her arm. Slowly, as if she were barely even conscious of it, Beatrice made herself comfortable on the bed, leaning back against the headboard and absentmindedly patting Rebecca’s hand.

Finally, Danny tied her braid with a piece of black ribbon and picked up her nightgown from the bed. She folded it over her arm and went over to the door. “I will be right back.”

Beatrice started. “I really should go. I’ve kept you up long enough.”

Rebecca shook her head. She kept her hand on Beatrice’s arm and smiled. “Bee. Why don’t you stay a while?”

Momentarily torn, Beatrice looked from Danny to Rebecca and back again, the blush rising back into her cheeks. When she turned to Danny for the second time, Danny raised her eyebrows, still wearing that small smile.

“I…” Beatrice bit her lip. “Very well. I suppose I could stay a little longer.”

“You could have drawn him here.” 

“He hasn’t left his room in days. He won’t even know I was gone.” 

It was another minute or so before Danny opened the door. She stared at Beatrice, her expression unchanged. Finally, she stood back. Beatrice stepped into the room. She knew her curiosity was showing on her face. She had never set foot inside Rebecca’s flat before. It was a miracle she had even been able to find out the address. The corridor she had stepped into was more plain than she had expected. When she followed Danny into the kitchen, she found it equally unassuming. Only one door led off from it, firmly closed. 

“Is she in there?” Beatrice asked. She took a step towards the door, but Danny beat her to it, barring the way. Up close, Beatrice could hear her breathing, quick and shallow. She was worried. 

“She’s asleep,” Danny said softly. Her hand came to Beatrice’s arm, gripping her sleeve. “She hadn’t slept in days. Please. Leave her be.”

Beatrice closed her eyes, opened them again, and tried to ignore the burning sensation deep in her chest. “I should hate you for it. For everything you’ve done to my family.”

Danny snorted. “He deserved it. He deserved everything he got and more.” 

Beatrice wrenched her arm free. Her fingertips were numb and cold. “And what about me? Did I deserve this?” She jerked her head towards the bedroom door. “Did she?”

Danny’s face twitched. “She made a choice. She wanted to be free of him. I freed her.” 

“And what kind of freedom is this? A life on the run? A life in poverty?”

“A life in companionship,” Danny snarled. “A life lived in the utmost certainty that no man will ever harm her again.” 

Beatrice shook her head, blinking away tears. She felt ill. “I was sorry for you, you know. You chose her over me, and yet all these months I grieved your grief, mourned your loss. Now I know I needn’t have bothered. You seem to have found a worthy replacement.”