Поворот винта. Уровень 1 / The Turn of the Screw - страница 8

“Over those children?” I had to hold back a cry. “And you could stand it!”

“No, I couldn’t—and I can’t now!” And the poor woman started crying.

From the next day, there would be strict control over the children, as I said before. However, we couldn’t stop talking about the subject passionately for a whole week! We had discussed it on Sunday night, but I couldn’t help but feel that there was something she hadn’t told me. I had been completely open, but Mrs. Grose had kept a secret. I was sure that she didn’t do that because she wasn’t honest. She was afraid and that’s it. Looking back now, it seems that I had already interpreted[35] most of the meaning behind the situation, thanks to following more terrible events. What those events showed to me was the presence of a mysterious man who was still alive, while the dead one would stay a mystery for a while. This man had spent several months at Bly, which was quite a long time. The end of this terrible period only came when, on a winter morning, Peter Quint’s body was found on the road. The cause of his death was a head wound[36], which have been caused by a slip on an icy slope[37]. It was a wrong path to take, especially in the dark and after having drinks at the pub.

I don’t know how to explain my feelings in simple words, but during that time I found joy in being brave. We were all in danger together. They had no one but me, and I had them. It was a wonderful opportunity. This opportunity came to me like a clear picture. I was like a shield, standing in front of them. The more I watched them, the less they noticed me. I started watching them with nervousness[38] and excitement. It could have turned to madness[39] if it had lasted too long. But it turned into something else. It turned into horrible evidence. The evidence started when I took action.

The moment this happened was one afternoon when I was alone in the garden with the younger child. We had left Miles inside reading a book. His sister, on the other hand, had wanted to come outside. We walked together for about half an hour. I noticed how both children were able to be independent yet still be with me. They never asked for attention but also never seemed bored. I enjoyed watching them have fun without needing me. It was like being a special person or thing in their game, and I was happy to play that role. I can’t remember what role I played that day, but I know I felt important and Flora was playing happily. We were near the lake, which we called the Sea of Azov because we were learning about geography.

Suddenly, I realized that there was someone watching us from the other side of the Sea of Azov. I was sitting on an old stone bench near the lake when I felt, without actually seeing, the presence of another person in the distance. I was sure that if I looked across the lake, I would see that person. I was busy stitching and tried not to look. I thought that it could be one of the men from the area or even a messenger, a postman, or a tradesman’s boy, from the village. But my thoughts didn’t seem right to me.

I looked straight at little Flora, who was about ten yards away. I was worried if she would also see the strange visitor. I held my breath, hoping for a cry or some sign from her. But nothing happened. Two things shocked me even more. First, I felt that all sounds from her had stopped in a minute. Second, she turned her back to the water while playing. When I finally looked at her, I was sure that we were still being watched by someone. With my newfound bravery, I was ready to face whatever came next.