Chapter 3 The Curtains

(from The Diary of Mr Poynter)Mr James Denton's greatest love in life was books, old onesmost of all. His collection grew bigger and bigger every year,but he lived in his aunt's house, and she was not very happyabout this.

Mr Denton was in London one day to buy furniture for thenew house which he and his aunt were building, and he was onhis way to a shop to choose the curtains. His way took him, quiteby chance, past one of the best bookshops in London, and hecould not stop himself going in, just for a quick look, as he to'dhimself.

He was just walking round the shop, looking at all thedifferent books, when he noticed a small collection of books onthe part of England that he came from, Warwickshire. He spentthe next half an hour looking through these and finally decidedto buy one that really interested him, called The Diary of MrPoynter, 1710. He paid for the book and then, looking at hiswatch, he realized that he had very little time before his trainback to Warwickshire left, and he had to rush to the station. Hejust caught the train.

That night, his aunt questioned him about his trip to Londonand was very interested to hear about the furniture which wasgoing to arrive soon. Her nephew described everything in detail.but still she was not satisfied. 'And what about the curtains,James?' she asked. 'Did you go to ...?' Suddenly Jamesremembered. 'Oh dear, oh dear,' he said, 'dial's the one thing Imissed. I am so sorry. You see, I was on my way there when, quiteby chance. I passed Robins

'Not Robins the bookshop, I hope,' cried his aunt.'Don't tell me you've bought more horrible old books, James.''Well, only one,' he said, feeling a bit guilty, 'and it's a veryinteresting one, a diary of someone who used to live not farfrom here . . . ' But he could see that his aunt was not reallylistening.

'You can't go to London again before next Thursday,' she wassaying, 'and really, James, until we decide on the curtains, there'snothing more we can do.

Luckily, she decided to go to bed soon after that and James wasleft alone with his new book, which he read until the early hoursof the morning. He found this diary, with its stories of everydaylife at that time, very interesting. T h e next day was Sunday. Afterchurch, James and his aunt sat in the living-room together.Is this the old book that made you forget my curtains?' askedhis aunt, picking it up. 'Well, it doesn't look very good . , . TheDiary of Mr Poynter. Huh!' But she opened the book and lookedat a few pages. Suddenly, much to his surprise, she began to showsome interest. 'Look at this. James,' she said. 'Isn't it lovely?' It wasa small piece of paper, pinned to one of the pages of the diary. Onit was a beautiful drawing, made up of curving lines, whichsomehow caught the eye. 'Well, why don't we get it copied forthe curtains if you like it so much?' he suggested, hoping that shewould forgive him for his bad memory of the day before inLondon. His aunt agreed and the very next day, James took thepiece of paper to a company in the nearest town, who agreed tocopy it and make it into curtains.

About a month later, James was called in to inspect the workand was extremely pleased with the result. 'Was it a difficult job?'he asked the manager.

'Not too difficult, sir. But, to tell you the truth, the artist whodid the work was very unhappy about it - he said there wassomething bad in the drawing, sir.' James was thoughtful but stillhe chose the colours for the curtains and then returned home. Afew weeks later, the curtains were ready and a man came to hangthem in several rooms of the new house, one of which was James'sbedroom. That night he found that he could not stop looking atthem and, although it was a still night, he was almost sure that thecurtains were moving and that someone was watching him frombehind them. He told himself that this was impossible and not tobe so stupid. He explained to himself that the effect was caused bythe curving lines on the curtains, which looked just like long,curling black hair.

The next day, a friend of James's came to stay and afterdinner they sat up late, talking and laughing. At last theydecided to go to bed and James showed his friend to the guestroom, which was j u s t along from his own. James, though, didnot want to go to bed immediately and sat in the chair by thefire in his room, reading. He fell asleep for a few minutes and,when he woke, he realized that something was in the roomwith him. Putting out his hand, lie felt something covered inhair and thought it was his dog, who always followed himeverywhere. ' H ow did you get in here? I thought I left youdownstairs,' he said, looking down. To his horror, he found itwas not his little dog. but something almost human. He jumpedand screamed and, as he did, the face of the thing came uptowards him: no eyes, no nose, no mouth. Only hair. Hescreamed again and rushed to the door, but was so frightenedthat he could not get it open. He felt the thing touch his backand start to tear at his shirt. At last the door flew open and herushed to his friends room, terrified and breathing hard.The next morning, early. James went away to the seaside for afew days to try to forget about his horrible experience. He tookwith him The Diary of Mr Poymer. He wanted to read it againcarefully to find out anything he could about the pattern pinnedon to the page. When he turned to that part of the book hefound that there were several pieces of paper stuck one on top ofthe other. He carefully pulled off the first two and found thisstory, written by Mr Poymer in 1707.

'Old Mr Casbury of Acrington told me this day of young SirEverard Charlett, at that time a student of University College.The young man drank too much and broke the law many times,but because he was from an important family, the universitynever did anything about it. He used to wear his hair very longand curling down his neck and he wore unusual, colourfulclothes. His behaviour made his father very unhappy. One day.they found young Sir Everard dead in his room, with all his hairpulled out. No one could explain why or how he died, but thestrangest thing was that, the day after he died, the bodydisappeared completely, leaving only a pile of long, curling blackhair on the floor of his room. His father kept some of this hairand had drawings made of it, part of which I have pinned to thispage.'

This is the strange story behind the curtains. Before hereturned home. James Denton ordered his servants to take themall down and burn them.

Date: 2015-12-17; view: 1247