Chapter three

I did not give the children many lessons during those first weeks. Perhaps they were teaching me now – they were teaching me to laugh, to play, to be free. I was more innocent than the children. I know that now.

In the evenings, when they were in bed, I liked to walk among the summer flowers in the gardens, and under the old trees in the park. Sometimes I could see the face of my employer in front of my eyes. ‘He’s smiling at me,’ I thought. ‘He’s pleased with me – I’m looking after the children well for him.’

One evening in June, I walked about three miles through the park. When I came back to the house, I looked up and saw a face. Was it my employer’s face which I thought about so much? No, it was not – I realised that very quickly. A man stood on the roof of the tower. There were two towers, one at each end of the roof. Each tower had a room inside, and you could climb out onto the roof from them. Flora took me there on my first day. I did not know this man. I saw him very clearly, and he was watching me. He stood still and stared at me for a minute, then turned away.

I was frightened. Was there a secret in this old house? I wanted to ask Mrs Grose, but when I came back into the house, everything seemed quite ordinary again. I did not say anything to her, but for many days I thought about it. Finally I decided, ‘It was a stranger who found a way into the house. But he’s gone now, so I can forget him. I won’t worry about it.’

I preferred to enjoy my days with the children. I was never bored with them. They were happy, and they made me happy too. I did not think about my family at home now, Flora and Miles were my family, and this was my home.

One Sunday, in the early evening, Mrs Grose and I decided to go to church together. My bag was in the dining-room, and I went in there to get it. Suddenly, I looked up and saw a face at the window. It was staring at me through the glass. It was the man who I saw on the roof. I stared at him; he stared at me. I did not know him, but I felt, strangely, that I knew him very well. Then he looked round the room.

‘He’s looking for someone, but not for me!’ I realised.

Then I felt brave. I ran outside and looked for him. But he was not there. The garden was empty. I went back to the window, put my face against the glass, and stared in. Mrs Grose walked into the dining-room, and saw me. She turned white, and came outside to meet me.

‘Why is she frightened?’ I asked myself.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked me. ‘Your face is white. You look terrible.’

‘My face?’ I said. ‘I was frightened. You saw my face at the window, but when I was in the dining-room, I saw a man’s face in the same place.’

‘Who is he? Where has he gone?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Have you seen him before?’

‘Yes – once. He was standing on the roof of the tower.’

‘And you didn’t tell me? What was he doing there?’

‘He looked at me – that’s all. He was a stranger, a dreadful man.’

Mrs Grose looked out over the gardens once more, then said, ‘Well, it’s time for church now.’

‘No, I can’t go to church. Not now. I can’t leave the children. It’s not safe.’

‘It isn’t safe?’ she asked.

‘He’s dangerous!’ I replied.

She realised something then. I could see it in her face.

‘What did he look like?’ she asked.

‘He is like nobody!’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He has no hat!’ She looked worried, so I continued quickly, ‘He has red hair, and a long face, with strange eyes.’

Mrs Grose’s mouth was open, and she stared at me. ‘Is he handsome? How is he dressed?’

‘Oh, yes, he’s handsome. And he’s wearing another person’s clothes.’

‘The master’s!’ she said.

‘You know this man?’

She did not reply for a second, then she answered, ‘Quint. Peter Quint. He was the master’s servant. He took some of his clothes – but never his hat. When the master left, Quint looked after everything in the house. He was only a servant, but he gave the orders.’

‘Then where did he go?’

‘Go?’ she said. ‘Oh no, he died.’

‘Died?’ I almost screamed.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Peter Quint is dead.’