SCENE 3
Maggie stopped pacing around Victoria's room. "What is going on down there? Why haven't they come up to tell us anything?"
"I'm sure there are a lot of questions that need to be answered. It's going to take some time," Vicki said, trying to be reassuring. "You need to calm down, Maggie. I'm sure everything is fine. Roger will come up as soon as he can."
"How can I calm down?" Maggie started, her voice rising. "That woman down there wants to kill Roger. She's tried before. You know that, Vicki." The comment brought a puzzled look from Sheriff Patterson, but Vicki was too involved with Maggie to notice. It was Maggie herself who noticed his look, and quickly fell into silence. But her tension did not dissipate, and she went back to pacing nervously around the room.
Vicki looked helplessly at her friend, and then she felt a tug on her arm. Looking back, she realized it was the sheriff, and went with him. He led her over to the window where they could talk privately, away from Maggie. "Miss Winters, I'm worried about Maggie. She's always been a strong person, but now she's just falling apart. I've never see her like this."
Vicki glanced behind her, but Maggie hadn't even noticed they had left her. "I feel the same way. But at this point, I don't think there is anything we can do. Maybe when Roger comes up with whatever explanation there is, Maggie will calm down. Until then --" A thin, child-like scream punctuated the air, cutting Vicki off mid-sentence. Everyone in the room looked up, startled. Even Maggie stopped pacing.
It was Vicki who recognized it. "That was David!" She rushed toward his room, followed by Maggie and the sheriff.
Throwing open the door of David's bedroom, Vicki immediately saw the child on his bed. His eyes were closed in sleep, but his face was twisted as if in pain. David thrashed about, small whimpering sounds issuing from his mouth. Vicki sighed in relief. He was just having a bad dream.
The governess sat on his bedside as Maggie and the sheriff stood in the doorway. She spoke soothingly, "David, it's all right, wake up. It's just a dream."
For a moment it seemed as if David hadn't heard her; he continued in his nightmare. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and sat up, a cry escaping from his lips, "Mother!" Seeing Vicki beside him, he burst into tears and fell into her arms.
Vicki held him and stroked his forehead. "Everything's alright, David, everything's fine," she said comfortingly. But his cry for his mother bothered her. "David, tell me about your dream. What upset you so?"
He looked up at her with his large, brown eyes. "I saw my mother. I saw my mother burning. She was on fire!" He burst into tears again.
Vicki exchanged a look with the sheriff and Maggie. "Hush, David, it was just a dream." She tried to sound convincing, but her voice was shaking. "Go back to sleep." She stroked his hair, and in a few minutes his breathing became slow and even. Vicki laid his head back on the pillow and stood up, being careful not to wake him again.
She went over to the other two adults. "What is going on here? This is getting too strange."
George spoke up. "Now don't be reading too much into this, Miss Winters. It could just be a coincidence. David could have just been dreaming about what everyone told him about his mother death."
Vicki shook her head. "David hasn't been told anything about that, yet. We were waiting until morning to break it to him. He hasn't heard anything about it."
"There's one other thing," Maggie spoke up. "Haven't either of you noticed? The smell -- George, you remember, it's the same one you noticed when I had my vision. The smell of --"
"-- Jasmine," Vicki finished for her. George and Maggie looked at her. "I recognize the scent. Josette Collins wore it all the time."
SCENE 4
"No. Absolutely not."
"Elizabeth, you know as well as anyone that a child belongs with its mother."
"Only if their mother is a responsible person who can raise the child in the best manner possible."
Roger leaned on the mantle, listening to his sister and his wife argue over his son. They had been going at it for several minutes, and he was not happy about it. But still it continued.
"You want to take him away from his family, his home --"
Laura laughed. "Home? You call this drafty old mausoleum a proper home for child? For God's sake, he's only lived here for one year. I raised that boy, I am more his family than any of you are."
Liz's face grew strained. "At least none of us ever tried to kill him!"
Now Roger straightened up. It was time for him to intervene. "Liz, can I speak to you for a moment, in private?" He strode over to the other side of the room. She was forced to follow him.
When they were as far from Laura as possible, Roger spoke to his sister in a low whisper, "Liz, why are you so against this?" She started to answer, but he continued. "Look, maybe it would be the best thing for David. I certainly don't seem to be able to get through to him. Perhaps Laura can."
"Roger, how can you even suggest that after what she tried to do?"
"I'm not forgetting that, but she seems like a completely different person now. Even you have to admit that."
Elizabeth Stoddard glanced over her shoulder at Laura Collins standing by the fireplace, poised, calm and collected. "Well, you are certainly right about that…still, I'm worried about David. I only want what's best for him."
Roger thought for a moment. "Liz, I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer me truthfully. If you thought going with Laura was in David's best interest, would you agree to giving her custody?"
"Of course I would, but --"
"No 'buts.' Look, I have an idea." He walked back towards his wife. "I don't think this is an issue we are going to be able to settle tonight," he announced. "Laura, where are you staying?"
"I've taken a room at the Collinsport Inn."
Roger scoffed at the idea. "That's no good. You need to be closer to David, let him get to know you again. And maybe when we see how well you two interact, we can make a decision then." He glanced at his sister. "Why don't you move in here? We have plenty of room, and I'm sure Liz would agree."
Elizabeth threw him a withering look for springing this on her without any warning, but answered, "I think we could make arrangements for you to stay here."
Laura shook her head, slightly. "Thank you for the offer, and I would like to be closer to David, of course," she poured a drink for herself from the crystal decanter on the mantle, "but I prefer more independent quarters."
"Well, I can understand that," Roger said. "I just thought -- wait a minute. Liz, what about Matthew Morgan's old place?"
Liz wrinkled her forehead. "You mean the old caretaker's cottage?"
"Sure. No one has lived there since Matthew died of that heart attack three years ago. It's separate from the main house, so Laura can have her privacy, and still be closer to David."
"I don't know. I haven't been in there since Matthew died. I'm not even sure how livable it is."
Laura broke in. "I think I remember that place. It would be perfect for me. That's a wonderful idea, Roger."
He almost blushed with pride at the compliment, but said, "Maybe you'd better look at it, first. Liz is right. Three years without a cleaning can make a place very uncomfortable."
Still, Laura was taken with the idea. "How about this? I'll come by tomorrow -- at a more reasonable hour, of course -- and take a look at it. If it seems okay to me, I'll move in." She gazed at Elizabeth for an answer. "Is that acceptable?"
Suddenly nervous under the penetrating eyes, Mrs. Stoddard fought to keep her composure. "I suppose that would be all right."
"Until tomorrow, then." Laura gathered her cloak and handbag, and headed toward the front door. Roger and Liz followed, looking almost like her entourage. As they passed the main staircase, something caught Laura's eye. "David!"
Roger and Liz turned their heads to see the young boy standing on the landing in his pajamas. He stared down the stairs at Laura Collins, a slack look on his face.
Elizabeth called up, "David, what are you doing out of bed? You shouldn't be up this late."
There was no reaction from David, but Laura spoke to Liz. "Isn't it obvious? He came down to see me." She turned to him and held her arms open. "Come here, David. Come to your mother."
Fear replaced the boy's blank look, as he let loose with a scream. "You aren't my mother!" he shouted. "You aren't my mother!" The adults looked at each other, stunned, as the small boy ran upstairs in sheer terror.
