Chapter 60: Chapter 60 – Murder, we said

It would have been more practical to wait around one of the main streets of town and from there, once reunited, take the short walk to the theater. But it was a special occasion and Oscar knew the villain would need all the support he could get. Therefore, he ruled out the aforementioned possibility, heading for Thornfield early enough to get there in time to see the performance. Once there, he and Albert got into a carriage that, in a matter of minutes, would leave them at the gates of the great building.

During those two weeks in which the rehearsals continued and the entire village was plastered with posters promoting the show, Oscar had been thinking a lot about that night. He didn't want to go back on his decision, on the contrary: he wanted to face it. The villain wouldn't kill him, but a lot had come out, unintentionally, just like in the original manuscript. Hence, in that period he was constantly thinking what he could do to avoid danger.

For now, he believed, getting away from the place where his character's body was found would be enough.

He would be lying if he said that all traces of fear had left his system, after reviewing countless times what he remembered of that tragic arc and considering the best way to avoid certain events. But, observing the supposed villain that remained before him, he realized that the aforementioned must be even more scared.

Albert didn't talk much, no matter what day it was. But if he was afraid or nervous, it was as if his lips were sealed and his throat refused to make a sound. With the consequence that, when they both met that afternoon, he barely managed to articulate a couple of polite phrases.

What could Oscar do in such a situation? Well, at least it served to forget his own paranoia for a while. Despite the fact that the villain affirmed more than once, when asked, that he was well and in the mood to give his best to the public, everything in him revealed that this was not the case. And, since he didn't see himself qualified to encourage anyone with empty words, he concluded that the only thing he could do for him was to stay by his side until it was all over.

By staying by his side, it not only meant accompanying him during the performance, but at that precise moment. For when they got into the car, instead of taking his usual seat across from Albert, he sat next to him. From the way the villain looked at him upon noticing this change, it was clear that he wanted to ask why it was. But it so happened that Oscar wasn't in the mood to talk either, and so he refrained from doing so.

Oscar just looked out the window at the scenery, as if nothing that happened inside the car was any of his business, and took the villain's hand.

Albert may have had a few questions about his behavior until that moment when he held his hand, since he finally got it. No, Oscar was not keen to consoling people. But he still had a way or two of expressing that he would stay there, giving him support from the shadows.

With renewed energy thanks to this small gesture, both remained silent until the carriage stopped at the doors of the theater, where a crowd was already gathered, talking to each other and even beginning to enter the rooms that made up the building. They were not only neighbors, eager to see a classic represented, those who was gathered there. A small group of journalists were also at the doors of the premises, trying to interview some members of those wealthy families that put the most money into preparing the event.

Oscar knew several of these families by sight. Many he had attended to during his time as a clerk at Lilac Hall, but with few he had exchanged more than a few sentences. He knew that most of them, including Patrick Seymour's father, were friends of Mr. Northrop. And that, being so, Albert would have no choice but to stop to greet each one before entering.

That was, up to a point, convenient. It was unusual for the Northrops to have a secretary in their ranks, but it was even rarer for them to bring such an employee to an event. Not to mention using the same carriage in which one of their employers was traveling. It was something so rare to see that any curious person would want to approach Albert to ask! And it is that Oscar, having been hired by that illustrious family, was destined to always walk a couple of steps behind his bosses. They would have had a lot of confidence in him so that, less than a month since they required his services, they would let him get into the same carriage and go to the same functions as them.

Fortunately, Albert was discretion in person. Although a couple of people from the press approached him to inquire and even some of his father's friends wanted to know about Oscar, he hardly said anything about it. With the excuse that the charity event should be the main focus of discussions that day, he dodged all questions regarding the new employee.

If Peter Northrop had been in his place, after a little prodding, he would have given in and told them how his son went out of his way to hire someone to help with the accounts with no other intention than that, to be more efficient. And then he would claim, regarding the confidence thing, that they had both known each other since they were children and were good friends. Even if that wasn't quite right.

But Albert wasn't like that. If he was insisted on talking about a subject, he had less desire to loosen his tongue. That is why he did not say anything to the journalists. He only introduced Oscar to a couple of acquaintances, who were the ones who got along best with his family. And, faced with the risk that more people would come to stick their noses where nobody was calling them, the two tried to separate momentarily, agreeing to meet a few minutes later in their box.

Oscar was grateful to be able to bypass the crowd and enter the lobby at once, which was a little less crowded. He was sorry that Albert had not been able to accompany him, but deep down he was glad that he no longer had to interact with those people. It was the first time, not only in that remote time but in his own century, that an employer presented him as his equal to his wealthy friends. And that was overwhelming for someone who was not used to standing out.

On the other hand, weren't they being too cautious? Many of the rich people in the neighborhood attended these types of events with someone from the service. Perhaps, because the theme of a charity was somewhat more informal and all kinds of people were welcome, it was not so strange that someone came on behalf of their masters, instead of coming with his family or friends.

The only thing that did not quite fit into that comedy was the box. No matter how well the nobles got along with their service, even if they paid the latter their admission themselves, they would not share such a privileged seat with them.

Oscar was thinking that he did not care what people thought, because no one could guess to what extent he had escalated his relationship with the villain only with this couple of data. But there was no way Dianne was to learn of these granted privileges. Well, even if it suited her to let Albert hang out with anyone who wasn't her female lead, she'd be damned capable of writing an erotic novel about boss and secretary if anyone even hinted at the idea.

“Oscar, is that you? Oh, I knew you were!”

Speaking of the blessed writer, she had appeared behind him, as soon as Oscar had finished thinking about the perversions that she would be able to put on paper in case she found out what she shouldn't have.

"Why are you dressed like that? You´re hardly recognized.”

“What's going on? Can't I be fancy for once in my life?”

"You're right, for the little life you have left, you'll have to treat yourself," Dianne joked. “My apologies for my lack of sensitivity on such an important day as your death.”

“Apologies not accepted, I hope this weight is always on your conscience. You should have been nicer to a character as gentle and harmless as mine!”

Completely ruling out that description fit the current Oscar, Dianne interjected:

"Now seriously, where did you get that suit? Don't tell me your lover's been over the top enough to buy it from you.”

“You know? Although it seems that way to you, I am no longer so poor that I cannot buy a suit.”

"Ah, so it was money you got out of him!"

“Of course not!”

Although it was true that Albert offered to buy him a suit, claiming that it would be necessary not only for this, but for future posh events, Oscar preferred to pay for it with his own money. He may have been working as a secretary for the Northrops and was also dating the older brother. But he wasn't about to let those two positions mix.

Besides, the Sunday suit that the original Oscar used to wear to go to church from time to time was already old and worn. What better time than now to get a spare one?

"It doesn't matter," the author went on. It is not in my interest to know how Albert Northrop spends his money. If he wants to be with you, it means something good… I mean, he just saw something in you.

“How understanding are you today, have the rehearsals gone so well that you are sure that the play will be a success?”

"Of course it will be, that shouldn't even be doubted! I have the perfect cast, cooperative people behind the scenes, the script has also been supervised by me… And best of all, your lover will not be participating, so there was no chance that Madeleine was distracted by him in rehearsals! Oh and yes, I really wish he didn't even give the opening speech, but you can't have everything in life.”

"And why don't you convince the priest and the others to find someone else to do it? Albert would appreciate it.”

"On the other hand," Dianne continued, ignoring him, "I'm happy things are starting to pick up between the leads. Madeleine still ignores Patrick, it's true, but he's had plenty of times since he came back from town, immediately joining rehearsals, to chase after her and show his affection like the good Romeo he is.”

“That thing about chasing her sounds bad in so many ways…”

“Poor Madeleine is playing hard to get. And it's understandable, because the plot twisted so much because of you that she spent too much time alone, being the one seeking the attention of someone who loved her as she is. But hey, in any case, that doesn't matter! Oscar, you should congratulate me, because I have the foolproof plan to get those two together.”

“No more accidents, please. We´ll see if the wrong person is going to die today because of your gossip.”

"Don't worry, I won't steal you the limelight for that," Dianne smiled. “Caused accidents are over! This giving the leading role to Madeleine and Patrick has only been a prelude to what is to come; an excuse for them to get together and get to know each other better. The ultimate plan for Madeleine to forget the villain hasn't started yet... But she will soon!”

"What plan is that?"

“I can't tell you, though I'll apologize to you in advance. This may get you splashed!”

Hearing the author apologize was unheard of, given her inherent self-centeredness. He never thought that such words could be spoken by her. Because of this, he believed that what would come next would be something of considerable gravity. And he was going to try to get her to tell him about her evil plan, if it weren't for the fact that Dianne avoided him by saying:

"Perhaps you should pay Madeleine a backstage visit. The other day she told me that she planned to tell the crowd that her performance would be dedicated to Albert. I begged her not to do it and she didn't mention it again… But I doubt that she actually does!”

“Why me?”

“With you it can cause better effect. Besides, aren't you the most interested in not getting your lover taken by her?”

"I find it absurd that a second-rate impression of a character like Juliet could attract Albert's attention," Before Dianne could begin to boast about Madeleine's theatrical abilities, he added. “Either way, I'll talk to her at the break. Now I don't feel like going backstage.”

Madeleine would only be allowed to speak to the public when the play was over, in her thanks. What rush was he in? To get down to the dressing rooms, Oscar would have had to go through the part of the auditorium where he was killed. And he did not wish to wander there until the hour of danger was past! Not alone, at least.

It was far better to wait until break, when a light supper was served in the hall. With any luck, he wouldn't have to set foot in the backstage area at all and could meet the protagonist very close to the main entrance.

"I guess it'll do for the break, but don't forget about it!" the author said. “By the way, wasn't it that you weren't jealous? It seems that, suddenly, you are not so sure that your lover can be stolen from you...”

And with that she left, without letting Oscar explain or ask beyond what she had done about her crazy ideas.

No, not that he was afraid they were going to rob anyone. For him, people were not objects that could be possessed or abandoned at his convenience. If Oscar wanted to talk to Madeleine, it was because it did not seem convenient for Albert to have more than two hundred spectators learn that the play would be dedicated to him by a woman who, not long ago, was the fiancée of the man he lost to in a duel. That would be quite a scandal! And the villain, with that introverted personality he had, would have a hard time.

So if he could help it, Oscar told himself he would try.

His intention now, before anyone else came to interrupt him, was to use the stairs and go to the box that Albert had previously indicated. But he didn't come upstairs right away, he hung around in the hall for a couple more minutes. It wasn't because he'd decided to wait for the villain (to be frank, with the amount of familiar staff out there and how chatty some of them were, it would take him a while to dispatch them) but because he'd spotted something interesting.

Not only were guests and theater employees passing through the large room, but there were also a few vendors taking advantage of the opportunity to do business. Most of them offered food. Not too much, of course, since a lunch break was already planned in the break between acts. These only offered an appetizer, while the function did not start.

These people had to have the permission of the priest to offer their merchandise. They may even have agreed to give him a small part of the profits in exchange for being able to stay in the lobby. Either way, Oscar wasn't interested in this or the groceries. No. Just before going up to the second floor, his eyes had settled on other types of goods.

He spent a couple of minutes pondering whether or not he should acquire them, considering the pros and cons of that drive of his. Until, in the end, he decided to make his purchase. With this in hand and still thinking that he had just done something completely unlike him, he prayed that no one would stop him for questioning as he finally went upstairs to find his seat.

It was not an arduous task to find the indicated box, since the doors of the same were all numbered. It was relatively easy to find each one if you knew what was going on. Now, the surprise came when Oscar entered the cabin and realized how well positioned he was with respect to the stage. And it is that, despite being at a certain height, the seats were located right in front of the scene. This being an extremely convenient position to sit down and enjoy the show. There were two seats that, he verified, were movable: Since they were not attached to the floor, he could place them as he wanted inside that cubicle. And not only that, but they were as comfortable as any armchair found in Thornfield.

In truth, it was a joy to come to the theater!

But what Oscar liked best was that there were a couple of thin walls that isolated this box from the ones on either side. And, although he had gone to see performances in his own day, he had never been to a theater where the balconies were separated in such a way. This gave a feeling of privacy that was all the more pleasant as, as soon as the lights went out, it would be as if there were no one else in the neighboring boxes.

In conclusion, it turned out that being from one of the families that sponsored the event brought with it more advantages than Oscar could have thought.

When he sat down in one of the armchairs and leaned over the railing a little so he could look out at the stalls, he realized that it was filling up with families, middle-class people, who paid the minimum price for an entry. Not only these were filled with individuals, but also the stalls and a good part of the seats in the chicken coop. Those who possessed some wealth or were guests of those nobles who would be performing tended to stay on the first and second floors, in private boxes with relatively good views depending on where they stood.

It seemed that the world always worked the same way, whether in reality or in a three-quarter novel like this: The rich got the best positions, while the poor had to settle for what was left. The more zeros there were in their annual salary, the better position they would be entitled to claim.

But back to the performance, a long twenty minutes passed before the crowd settled down and fell silent, the lights dimmed just enough and some people appeared on stage. They included Father Gilmore, some of the parishioners who had helped him organize the event, and three or four of the sponsors of the event.

In this last group was, of course, Albert Northrop. Who, after the priest and the director of the establishment said a few words, had to proceed with his speech.

Perhaps the aforementioned was nervous and that he clung with all his might to some papers in which everything he had to say was written. But he had been rehearsing so much during the previous weeks…! Practicing reading all those paragraphs and even editing some sentences that did not seem quite suitable, he had reached a level where he no longer needed any scheme to guide him. He could recite the entire paragraph from memory, and yet he had decided to take the schematics with him.

The villain thought that it might help him not to remember his stage fright, believing that when he panicked, he could always look down at the document and pretend he was still reading. Even, in the worst case, if he blanked out, there would be no danger that he would no longer have anything to say.

But the truth is that none of the fears that Albert had claimed to have, during the rehearsals in his house, happened. On the contrary, standing on stage and firmly reciting his monologue, he seemed more confident than ever. He didn't even seem to have had to resort to his plan to focus on his roles in perpetuity, in case the crowd of spectators overwhelmed him, for several times during the speech he even dared to lift his eyes and look into the audience.

One of those times when Albert glanced at the crowd, his gaze seemed to meet Oscar's. And in that direction he stared for a long period of the speech, never having stumbled or stopped speaking. Although he slowed down the pace of the speech a little, he was perhaps a little more aware of where and in what situation he was.

In truth, the fact that Albert found him in that entire row of boxes was just an assumption by Oscar; from his seat it had seemed to him that he was looking in his direction, and he had even smiled at him before realizing that there were hardly any lights to illuminate the place from which he was observing. How was anyone onstage to discern faces at such a distance and given the prevailing darkness?

But the villain seemed to know what he was doing and not only managed to find him among such a large audience, but also managed to end his monologue satisfactorily, drawing a large amount of applause.

Right after the speech was over and the venue manager made a brief preamble to usher in the show, Oscar had his second impulse of the day. He didn't need to, of course, but only he knew how much it had cost Albert to even stand up in front of several hundred people. And he thought it would be a nice gesture on his part to receive him at the door that led to the backstage, with the idea of ​​going back to the box together from there.

So, before having to wait for him in his seat and even at the risk of missing the beginning of the drama, he got up and left the cabin.

It was possible that waiting for Albert near the stage was an absurd impulse, considering that he would go straight to his box as soon as he had finished his work before the masses, but Oscar wanted to do it anyway. Perhaps he was being reckless by walking around the building, although his character should not die until the end of the second act, but he would not wait for the other from a place that he considered risky.

Going down to the part of the theater where only the staff that helped with the show and the actors themselves could stay, he tried to get away not only from the place where his body was found, but also to avoid uncrowded corridors. A murder, whether planned or not, could not be committed in the presence of witnesses.

Then there was one thing that went wrong with Oscar's idea when he left his box: there was no sign of Albert anywhere! On the way there he asked a couple of the staff if they had seen him, but no one could tell. And he couldn't go into the corridor that led to the dressing rooms either, since someone like him staying in those parts would stand out too much. Not to mention, those same workers he spoke with already recommended that he retire before the manager or any other individual in such position demanded that he do so with less kind words.

Anyway, Oscar thought the best thing would be to return to his seat. While he was going down he didn't see the villain come, despite the fact that he traveled the same path that he should do to return, but perhaps if he returned on his footsteps he could come  across him.

He hadn't expected that, as he headed upstairs again, he'd hear voices through a half-open door that led into another backstage room. And that these voices corresponded to those of Albert and Madeleine, respectively.

What were they doing there? No one else was heard inside and Oscar did not dare to enter the place either. He was beginning to consider that the best thing would be to stay outside, waiting for one of these two people to move and, until then, listen to what they said.

It could not be said that he was taking a certain liking for spying behind doors or that he distrusted someone, it is that there was a tiny problem in terms of locating these two people: That was the room in which his character would be eliminated. How the hell was he going to get in without more? If things got ugly, he could go in to help Albert. But nothing else. He felt that setting foot in that room, without real need, was like chasing his own bad luck.

"Don't start all over again about you already dating someone," Madeleine said, with a fake offended tone. “Has she come with you?”

There was a long silence in the room until the villain decided to break it, bereft as he must have been of other options:

"It would make no difference to my answer whether that person was present today or not. So I don't see the relevance in your question.”

From where Oscar was, he could hear Albert much better than Madeleine. Even though there was an echo in the room where they were, amplifying the sounds, it could be deduced that the villain was the one closest to that door that led to the dressing room corridor. While Madeleine, for her part, was heard as if she were at the bottom of some stairs with not too many steps.

Oscar had not made this comparison haphazardly because, although he had never entered, he was well acquainted with the layout of that particular crime scene. If he had echoed and was half empty, it was because it was a kind of control room through which some pieces of the set were handled, and some objects —not too many— were stored in the moments before going on stage.

So this was a room used only by members of the staff when the show required it, and perhaps by some of the actors if they chose to come through from backstage: Oscar knew there was another door in the same room, which led to an even larger place and only separated from the stage by a curtain.

"How would there be no difference?" Madeleine insisted, completely oblivious to the fact that she was being listened to by a third person. “If that woman appreciated you as she says she would take the trouble to accompany you! Which, apparently, she has not done. And it must be very sad for you to have to come with that gloomy service company!”

"Gloomy, you say?"

“Don't pretend to be ignorant, I know very well that you came with Oscar. Let's see, he´s a very dear friend of mine and I appreciate him very much as a person..., despite the twisted mind that I know he has lately. But there´s no point of comparison between coming with him than with a lady like me!”

"I have to agree with you there."

“Right? So we agree on this! Trust me when I tell you that a person who does not attend this type of important event to keep you company is not worth it. You should break up with her immediately.”

“I don't believe in measuring the importance of a person based on whether or not he wants to accompany me to places.”

"And if she really doesn't feel like it or can't come," continued the protagonist, "the least she should do is send a note of apology or, better yet, a gift. For you to see that she hasn't been completely forgetful.” Next, Madeleine must have remembered something unpleasant, because she added. “Although that thing about gifts is a double-edged instrument. Any fool can offer a gift to make up for their own shortcomings.”

Until that moment, Oscar had been listening with a hand over his mouth, to prevent being heard laughing at Madeleine's expense. But when she said the latter, he couldn't help but glance at his other hand. Well, he was holding the same bouquet of flowers that he had bought to give the villain as soon as he finished with the presentation.

So he really was stupid, huh?

Coming from Madeleine, there was no way she could offend him. But anyway, that she chose that moment to say such a thing was a most annoying coincidence!

"Perhaps the gift thing is like that in the case of some, because I know that there are those who have many defects to cover," Albert conceded. “But speaking of other people, that can only be about added value.”

"Oh, so she does give you presents!" Seeing that the villain didn't deny it, she complained. “But it's not fair to measure one's importance based on those things either. I mean, my family still hasn't been able to recover from this difficult economic situation, I can't be blamed for not being able to compete as hard as I can!”

“Don't worry, no one was asking you to compete.”

"I really can't understand why so much persistence, what does she have that I don't have?"

"Don´t you have to go back on stage?" Albert asked, changing the subject. The curtain has just risen and she is one of the protagonists. She shouldn't be late for her entrance.

"Forget about it! What we´re discussing is more important! Madeleine bellowed in such a way that even Oscar jumped, from where he was. “Just tell me who it is. One name is enough! I will study the competition and, with that in mind, I will be able to try harder.”

“I'm not lying when I say there is no competition.”

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Albert must have sighed, noticing that the other was going to continue insisting ad infinitum. Was there no way to silence her? It was rumored the protagonist had begun to listen to him again during rehearsals for the play. Instead, he had evaded her and then thrown her face off not once, but twice. He had even used the trick to clarify that he already had a partner! If none of that worked, the only thing that might bring some sense to her would be shock therapy.

Although Oscar doubted that Albert would dare to use such a method without consulting him first.

"I couldn't compete with who I like," continued the villain, when Oscar had barely had this thought, "unless you were a man."

Ah, but the condemned man did dare! Oscar stopped laughing instantly, realizing that such a soap opera was reaching its climax. No doubt a response as direct and scathing as the one Madeleine had just heard had been caused by herself. Albert must have been fed up enough that he didn't care that the aforementioned knew of his preferences.

“ How a man? You have to be kidding!”

And yes, Madeleine laughed nervously, taking it as a not very successful joke.

It was curious, but at that moment, while she was still laughing, Oscar thought he heard a noise. He couldn't specify what it was. They weren't footsteps, it sounded more like someone had closed a door or bumped into the wooden frame that made it up, emitting a hollow sound. The strange thing about it was that the noise came from somewhere behind him, not from inside the room.

Naturally, Oscar was instantly on guard. But no matter how much he looked down the hall, he didn't find anything or anyone out of place. The corridor, except for him, was still deserted. And he remained where he was, with no intention of moving: There were no doors or windows near where he was. The only entrance he suspected the sound was coming from was more than ten meters away, so if someone tried to surprise him, he would see it coming long before he managed to get close.

There was no possibility of a surprise attack.

"Actually, there is part of a joke in what I said," he heard Albert continue, when Madeleine had calmed down. “Even being a man, you wouldn't stop being so annoying that I would deign to look at you.”

"How annoying? Now you're disrespecting me!”

"Yeah, well, I'm tired of being nice. What good has it been if you still harass me?”

"That's just because you won't stop lying to me! I thought that the fact that you had a partner was an excuse to get away, but now you not only tell me you do have one, but that try to tell me that it´s a…! I just can't believe that such a respectable gentleman would have such inclinations.”

Madeleine sounded angry, but when he spoke, Albert sounded even angrier:

“Things are as I tell them. I have never lied. If you´ve decided to create a convenient story to convince yourself that I haven't rejected her, that's your own fault. Now, as to who I'm dating, you know him. He´s the same person who accompanied me to the function today.”

“Who? Rowena didn't tell me you came with a—” In that instant, Madeleine must have felt the full weight of realization sink down on her, because she immediately exclaimed. “Oscar! W-wait…! Is he dating you? I-it can't be! Although… Although that would explain something of what´s happening! I mean, you're so much more gracious and graceful than that idiot. The fact that he is behaving so rudely can only mean that his ways are rubbing off on you.”

“What happened to the dearest friend that until three minutes ago I was supposed to be?” Oscar wondered. But it didn't give her time to reply before Madeleine continued:

"I-I'm sure it was all a plan of you two to get away from me and in reality you are nothing to each other!" It seemed that the protagonist did not believe in her own words, by the tone in which she said them, but she was striving to create a lie that in time she could pass as truth. “That's it! It makes sense, because Oscar was also very reluctant when I asked for your address. And since he now works for your family, presumably he was ordered not to talk too much.”

"Every minute that passes, the more I am convinced that my choice, despite not being considered as usual, has been the right one," Albert said slowly, refraining from refuting anything or giving more details, surely sensing that neither they would be heard. “Tell me, why would I want to be around a delusional, hysterical woman like you? You don't even have the nerve to walk away from me when I say I´m not interested. Even worse! You insist without caring what the feelings of others are, stubborn as you continue in your own. You´re not aware, or do not care, what are the problems that this causes. So I'll repeat it, in case I haven't been clear enough: What makes you think I'd want to woo you?”

That last question must have been the straw that broke the camel's back. Madeleine could no longer continue to deal with so many insults, excusing them in such a timely manner as she had been doing until then.

"How dare you insult me?" she began, with growing resentment. “When Patrick told me you were undesirable, I didn't want to believe him. Well, after all, we´ve always been neighbors and there has never been friction between us. But now I see that he was right! I have never suffered such a number of wrongs from a man who calls himself a gentleman!”

"Now are you going to cry too? Even after you were the one who started the insults?"

"What else does it matter to you, if you're like everyone else!" The protagonist snapped and, indeed, it sounded as if she were crying. “Don't want to come and comfort me now when it's your fault that I´m  like this! Because I won't accept it!”

“No, if I said so because you´ll ruin your makeup. Not that I care too much, since I don't even have much interest in the play, but it might scare the audience if it goes on stage like that.”

“What are you saying?”

“And the children. Especially to children. They are quite sensitive about this kind of thing.”

From behind the door, Oscar had to make an effort to contain his laughter again as he listened to Madeleine swallow all her anger from her and sniffle. Then, in a tone that indicated that all her supposed sadness had been replaced by uncontrollable rage, she shouted without any hesitation:

"If that's what you think of me, we just finished talking! I give up whatever it might have been, I leave you and not the other way around! You hear me? In any case, I didn't want to be with a guy who goes around bragging about how much he owns, with such arrogance that he doesn't even consider others worthy to participate in a conversation where he is. And that bad taste of going around hunting men...! It's disgusting!” Perhaps making sure she could use some new piece of information in her revenge on him, she added. “But it won't stay that way, I'll make sure to let everyone know about your preferences! I'm sure everyone will be very interested in them, especially the police!”

"Are you sure that would be convenient?"

"Maybe not for you, but what does it matter now?"

From the tone the protagonist was using, it was clear that she was holding back from adding something along the lines of, "If he won't accept me, I'll make sure he can never be with anyone again." But Albert remained completely calm, as if the threats to denounce him had no effect on him.

"I was thinking about how bad it could turn out if it occurred to you to make public what I have told you today," he finally sentenced. “The whole town knows about how distant you have been with Mr. Seymour since Christmas, to the point of breaking off the courtship. Even if they say your relationship isn't that bad right now, what would people think if I reported to the police that you've been harassing me for months, even though I lost the duel and made it clear I wasn´t  interested?”

"Y-you have no proof!"

"What about your letters? You threw them into the fireplace, but it wasn't lit. How do you know I didn't pick them up? Not to mention that you haven´t been at all discreet while spying on me. I'm sure if I ask around the neighborhood someone will confirm that they've seen you watching Thornfield through binoculars or stalking me from across the street.”

Madeleine said nothing at this, although Oscar could imagine her face changing color, turning from red to white and from white to green in a few seconds.

"I was kind enough not to report you to anyone when I made sure of your intentions," Albert went on, giving her the last push he needed to disgrace herself, "but what if I did now? Since I do have compelling evidence of your arduous pursuit, who do you think they would be more willing to believe?”

That was true, even Madeleine could see that the game was lost. Even with the confession from the villain that he was seeing a man, what could she do with it? Albert would deny it to the masses and, considering that neither he nor Oscar were people who were carried away by affection in public, there would be no way to prove that what they had between them was more than a friendship.

On the contrary, in fact. If Madeleine was trying to ruin his reputation by spreading these kinds of rumors about him, it was likely to backfire. That, in the absence of any evidence to support her claims, the villain decided to bring the evidence against her to light. Making her stay like a cunning and spiteful lady who was dedicated to hunting rich men, regardless of what they might think about it.

The protagonist must have realized this and, still furious, did not seem to want to continue talking with her now ex-love interest.

Footsteps were heard inside the room. They sounded like high heels, so Oscar was pretty sure it was Madeleine walking towards the area facing the stage. Since the villain gave no sign that he wanted to continue wasting saliva, she must have gotten frustrated, and before the sound of her footsteps had completely disappeared, he heard her let out a cry of frustration. Not long after that, there was a thud, as if she had kicked some heavy object.

By the time that happened, Oscar had already made up his mind to make an appearance. He might not have entered the room, but he could call Albert from that doorway. And he had opened the door completely, but only to realize a fact that sent a shiver down his spine. Albert was positioned right at the same point where his body was discovered in the original novel!

The next thing that happened, happened in a matter of seconds. Intuition told Oscar that there was something very wrong with that placement and, if we add to that the fact that not even ten seconds ago Madeleine had kicked what she shouldn't have, the result was that something must have disengaged from the heights. A noise, like that of a pulley being used at full speed, was heard. Although, by then, Oscar had already run towards the villain, without thinking twice, moving him away from the place where he was standing.

Because of the improvised tackle, both fell to the ground. And they certainly weren't the only ones: A large sack collapsed just seconds after Albert had been removed from its position. Looking at said object, even without touching it, it could be deduced that he could easily weigh twenty or thirty kilos. That damn thing could have crushed someone!

Maybe not to death, but considering the angle at which he fell off the heights, it could have pushed a person from the top of the stairs. If one did not completely die at that first blow, it would be very plausible that rolling down the steps would finish the job.

“Isn't that what happened in the original…?” Oscar wondered.

These types of bags used to be filled with sand and were intended to act as a counterweight for any work in which it was necessary to lift something into the air, whether it was an adult person or any other decorative object which weight was similar. With the blow that Madeleine gave, even if it was unintentionally, she could have managed to detach the rope that kept the bag on the heights.

"This…" Albert began. “Could you get up, please?”

“Oh, sorry!”

It was there that Oscar realized that due to the fall he had been left in a somewhat compromising position, just above the villain, and as was obvious, if he didn't move away, the other wouldn't be able to stand up either.

“Are you okay?” Inquired Oscar, once he had gotten up and held out his hand to Albert so that he could stand as well.

"Yes and, apparently, it was thanks to you," he replied, directing a glance towards the object that so abruptly crashed to the ground, spilling much of its contents on the steps that remained in front. “Haven't you hurt yourself either?”

“Still alive”

And I hope it stays that way for a long time, he thought to add.

Now that he remembered it, why had his character been in this room, in the original manuscript? Even though he was helping with the props, there was nothing here that needed his attention. Not in the play they would be performing. In fact, this must also be the reason why, despite falling something so heavy, no one came to make sure what had happened.

In the original, the character of Oscar had been there with Madeleine to confess his love for her. So, terrible as this sounded. She rejected him, got angry at her alleged lack of consideration for confessing in the middle of one of the timeouts after one of her countless fights with Patrick, and, immediately afterwards, out of sheer frustration, she kicked what it looked like a pole. That was it. Madeleine left right after doing that. The scene changed, and the next thing she remembered was the female lead receiving applause for her indescribable performance.

Moments later the body was discovered.

Anyway, could it not have been that the death of the first Oscar was an accident? With the bad luck he also had, and the disagreement with Madeleine, it was very possible that she had killed him without realizing. This didn't explain why the villain blamed himself for his death, but it did fit their character better.

"Wh-what were you doing here?" Albert asked nervously. “Have you heard it all?”

It was funny and Oscar couldn't help but laugh. Being with Madeleine, Albert had been brutal, with words that cut like knives and a tone that did not admit contrary retorts. With his intransigence, he took the conversation to such an extent that even the protagonist had to stop pretending to be offended in order to safeguard a bit of her dignity. Now, instead, the villain was the same harmless being as always. As if, no matter how much he made him uncomfortable, he wasn't going to hurt a fly.

“If I didn't hear it all, it was the majority, yes.”

"Do you think I've been reckless? I don't regret saying those things to his face, even though they sounded so harsh, she deserved them. But about talking about the two of us… Even if she doesn't dare mention it to others, I shouldn't have said so much.”

"Is that what you think? I would have told her sooner! We would have saved ourselves a lot of headaches. If I didn't do it myself was because I didn't know if you would agree.”

"But as satisfying as it is to see her not get away with it for once in her life, this could have consequences. Although they decide not to believe it, they may begin to suspect or see us with different eyes, being more attentive to what we do.”

"Does it bother you that they talk about you? As it is, they have no evidence to say anything... Unless you happen to do something indecent in public. There yes, the thing would not have remedy.”

"It would never occur to me...!" Albert protested, but from the way his face turned red in a matter of seconds, it was clear that he did.

"Be that as it may," Oscar laughed as he watched her reaction, "Let Madeleine say what she wants. With the history that is spent, not only because of her ill-advised actions but because her family has fallen into disgrace, it´s impossible for them to believe her without anything to support her claims. And, in case there´s any chance of them listening…” Pausing here, he smirked before continuing. “Well, exposing people's scandalous rags isn't just a game for the upper classes.”

As scandalous as this last statement may have sounded, those phrases must have served to completely appease the villain.

The chance of Madeleine making mischief using the information was, if you thought carefully, slim. Both Albert and Oscar had been discreet about their relationship, not being affectionate in public and even avoiding talking too much about things that had nothing to do with work. Not even when they were separated did they write letters that could be called romantic! Anyone who read them (see Sayer here and his particular fondness for reading other people's correspondence) would think that it was just a couple of friends corresponding with each other. Something of routine, without major feelings involved.

"So…" Albert began, again, with a spark of hope in his eyes, "why did you come? You were waiting for me?”

Oscar didn't answer the question directly, instead he cursed under his breath as he remembered something, and started walking towards the same door through which he had entered minutes before. This must have been a strange reaction for the villain, who was puzzled for an instant, wondering what had just happened.

Now, he didn't need to state his doubts out loud, because as soon as he followed Oscar out into the hallway he was perfectly aware of what had happened.

There was a bouquet of flowers on the ground. To be specific, it was the same one that Oscar had bought and which he had to let go of, seeing the villain in danger and having to pounce to save him. And no, the inconvenience that there was, and for which Oscar ended up getting bothered, was not because he had had to deposit it on the floor. He wished it were that simple! No. What had happened in those scant three or four minutes without surveillance was that someone who had passed by, from one end of the aisle to the other, trampled the bouquet to such an extent that hardly a single flower remained intact.

"Albert, have I ever mentioned to you that I think the universe hates me?" Oscar muttered sullenly, crouching beside the wreckage while he tried to see if there was anything salvageable. “Well, I have to say that he was wrong. The universe just wants to see me dead and gets mad at me every time it's around but it doesn't get it!”

"What nonsense, the universe couldn't hate someone like you," Albert laughed, crouching next to him and taking the matter as a complete joke.

Perhaps, when contemplating a slight sign of sadness on Oscar's face and seeing that what he was saying was serious, it was that his tone changed for a more serious one, in accordance with the situation:

"And even if I really hated you, what would it matter? You still have me: I may not be able to stop bad things from happening to you, but I'll at least try to do as much damage reduction as I can.”

The bouquet that was still scattered on the floor consisted of more than a dozen flowers of different types. When Albert spoke, Oscar had been trying to verify that there were still any unbruised. But now, after that sudden confession that the other didn't even seem to have realized how significant it was, he stopped.

Why the heck was the same guy who stuttered when he got nervous being able to blurt out such embarrassing things lightly?

“Is something the matter?” Inquired Albert, seeing that he had remained silent, looking at him.

"Nothing, it's just that I'm glad you said that." Oscar smiled, standing up, already giving up the little loot he had gotten. “Shall we go back to our seats?”

“Hang on a minute.”

Before Oscar had time to question, Albert took one of the flowers that had survived the massacre and placed it on the lapel of his jacket. Then, taking a jasmine that remained intact, he put it on the garment that he himself wore.

"Now we can go," said the villain, satisfied with his work.

"No but, with exactly the same flowers adorning, who's playing with fire now?" Oscar laughed, although he didn't make any attempt to take it off either.

After that, both left for the second floor.

Madeleine had already left for a long time, in such a hurry that she didn't even check again what that loud impact had been that was heard as soon as she had left the room. And, from the stage, the voices of the actors had already begun to be heard even before the villain and the protagonist ended their discussion.

So what to say about the play? Overall, it wasn't too bad. Oscar expected worse, considering his cast. But there was the beautiful coincidence that, since neither the script was originally from Dianne's mind and she even had colleagues who helped her adapt that classic in such a way that they would get rid of a public scandal complaint, it was not possible to screw it up so much . Not in terms of script.

As for the actors, it could be said that they did a passable job. They were not at the level of a normal and current interpretation, made by inexperienced townspeople but wanting to make a little effort in front of the public (because, being most of the actors wealthy people with a desire for prominence, it was obvious they would want to get as much of scenes as possible, exaggerating their performance as much as possible, even if they only had two lines). But neither did they go overboard to such an extent that it was painful to watch.

They didn't pass except, of course, for Madeleine. Although it would not be known if it was that she had rehearsed so that her Juliet would end up being a girl so intense in her convictions or if it was that the anger that had originated a few minutes before was the one that triggered that fearsome show of personality on stage.

No, Madeleine did not forget her lines nor did she involve any improvisation. If she sinned in something, instead, it was recitung with greater vehemence, almost screaming. She walked around the stage more than she should, approaching the public and monopolizing all eyes even when she was not the only person on the scene. And, perhaps worst of all, to give the retorts that were required of her with an angry or condescending tone, causing more than one startle in her co-stars. That woman really looked ready to start a fight! In fact, maybe no one got slapped in this show, but from holding them so viciously, the protagonist almost broke a couple of props.

In contrast to this character of the demon, which seemed to give it an aura more of a villain than anything else, was Patrick's interpretation.

According to what was said, the guy missed the casting to participate in the play and, even so, he took the leading role because "they were reserving it for him", since he "already stated at the time that he would want to participate". Something completely impossible to verify for those ordinary mortals who had nothing to do with the production of the play.

Anyway, Patrick received the script moments before leaving for London and, they said, he was learning it in the very brief season he was absent. When he returned, he joined the rehearsals, just a week and a half before the premiere. One would think, then, that he would be the one who would do the worst job of all. Since he hardly had the opportunity to rehearse with his peers and, likewise, he missed many of the instructions of the director of the show. But no, on the contrary! The male lead was the best performance ever! There was not a single flaw, not a note of exaggeration in his voice.

Oscar did not know if that was due to some kind of black magic, because he could not imagine the aforementioned spending the afternoon in his apartment in the capital studying the manuscript, or if he had a natural talent or the aura of the protagonist that he carried and for which, no matter how much he screwed up or how little he tried, he was bound to come out on top.

But the point is that that interpretation saved a bit of the mess that Madeleine was putting together. And, although this drama ended up looking more like a comedy, with a sergeant Juliet and a diffident Romeo who, having caught his co-star's bad mood, limited himself to lowering his head and blurting out his retorts in a soothing tone so as not to piss her off any more, the public enjoyed it.

Even Oscar had to admit that he was surprised, making sure the play didn't go as badly as he imagined.

Originally, he had only planned to come to cheer Albert up and then stay as a formality. The presence of one of the Northrops was required there, so that could even be considered a business meeting. Ergo, it was a pleasant surprise that he had a good time watching what was happening on stage, not even needing to fake applause after the first act was over.

He wasn't a theater buff, but he didn't hate it either. He knew how to appreciate a decent play when he saw it despite the fact that he, of his own free will, would not want to go to see performances often.

Albert also seemed to tolerate it quite well. And, once the break began, the boxes gradually emptied. Being that the people went to a room on the ground floor where the theater staff had installed a few tables with various foods, so that the spectators could eat something during that half hour in which the curtain would remain lowered.

At this point, and despite the fact that it was almost time for Oscar's character to die, the aforementioned was very relaxed. It wasn't just because he felt the danger had ceased to exist, but because, now that the villain had concluded his business before the audience, he knew he could stay with him all evening. And regardless of his opinion on the matter, wasn't he safer that way?

Albert obviously didn't want to kill him. And, if it was someone else who wanted to do it, he couldn't anyway. Not when Oscar spent the entire night in the company of the villain or, as in the break, stuck in a room overflowing with people. No one would be stupid enough to try to kill him in a space like that!

Or come on, no one should be. But the truth is that there was.

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