Subj: Consequences of Falling Ch. 6
Date: 7/5/01 10:13:48 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Nicole

April 19, 1972, Collinwood, 3:00 PM

Barnabas had expected to find more signs of life than he found. He would be leaving in a day and had wanted to tell everyone goodbye. The only people he found were Hallie and Quentin, neither of whom where paying him any attention. Quentin seemed fully engrossed by whatever he was writing and Hallie watched him intently, one foot tapping in impatient expectation. The only acknowledgement he received from Quentin was a curt nod as he rose to through a piece of paper into the fire. Hallie offered a pleasant hello. "What are you doing?"

"Writing to Constance," answered Quentin, his eyes never leaving the tablet.

"Why don't you visit her? Isn't she still living in the cottage?"

Quentin did not answer. Hallie turned to Barnabas and said, "Constance won't let him inside the cottage."

"So I take it that there's trouble in paradise?"

"Very funny," snarled Quentin. He carefully tore the sheet from the tablet and folded it into the envelope. He handed it to Hallie and asked, "Will you wait for her to respond?"

"I was planning to."

"Thanks." Quentin seemed to calm once Hallie left. He lay back into the chair, snifter in hand as a smile smoothly spread across his lips. "What brings you here, Barnabas?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow. Is Elizabeth in? I'd like to speak to her?"

"No. She's gone into town with Carolyn. She'll return by five." Quentin handed him the tablet and pen, saying, "Leave a message if you like."

"Thank you." As Barnabas wrote his note, he would take the occasional glance at Quentin, who smiled confidently as he sipped away at the brandy. "Are you really so confident that your little note will bring Constance around?"

"No. I'm just relieved to get it all off my chest." Quentin rose to replenish his glass. After a moment of hesitation, he took the container with him to the seat. "I can't figure her out."

"Didn't you know her before?"

"Yes. We met on the way to France in December 1900. Her room was next to mine," explained Quentin. "I hated that trip. The only fun was to be had with Constance, who didn't hide behind false pretenses or upright morals. She was a bit outrageous and a bit of a drunk. I thought she was wonderful. We kept in contact afterwards, meeting up whenever and wherever we could. I quit responding to her about ten years later. I didn't want to lose our friendship but I couldn't have her find out the truth. I can't believe she's still alive, still looks the same. But God, she's changed so much."

Barnabas noticed the sadness creeping into his cousin's stare. He took the seat across from Quentin and fixed himself a drink. "Why have you been barred from the cottage?"

"That's just it: I don't know. I thought everything was going well. Three days ago I woke up with her and she seemed perfectly fine. But as we were talking, this strange glaze crept into her eyes. She kicked me out of bed, told me to dress, and demanded that I leave. I asked her for an explanation the entire time I was searching for my clothes. She wouldn't answer and kicked me out before I could finish dressing. I think I left a boot over there. Anyway, I went back to talk to her but she wouldn't answer the door. She's not answering her phone anymore."

"So she's moody," said Barnabas.

"Yes but she was never this moody. I don't know what I did to her. Normally, I can make an educated guess as to what I've done wrong but I'm completely clueless as to what I've done to offend her."

Barnabas would have offered words of encouragement had Hallie not returned. She was carrying a well-polished black boot. She handed it to Quentin and said, "The note is inside."

He hesitantly withdrew the note. "'Dear Quentin. I'm sorry for being so rude. I didn't know what to do. You wouldn't understand. I'm sorry I can't explain it to you. I'm not sure when I will have it all sorted out. I'll call you in a few days. Constance.'" Quentin wadded the note and crammed it into the boot. "At least she polished it," he said in monotone. "You'll have to excuse me."

Neither Barnabas nor Hallie said anything when Quentin left the room. They waited until his footsteps failed to echo to begin talking. "How did Constance act?" asked Barnabas.

"She seemed sad. She kept mumbling something I couldn't understand. I thought she was going to cry." Hallie paused, pursing her lips as she tried to concentrate. "Constance really likes Quentin. She just needs some time to sort her feelings."

"I hope so. Few people ever reject Quentin. After the recent bad times he's lived through, I don't think he needs this kind of refusal."

Dark Shadows is a Dan Curtis Production.