*AUTHOR'S NOTE* - I wrote this story almost 2 years ago. I found it while cleaning out my hard drive. I thought it was nice so I cleaned it up and here it is. I wrote it right after reading the book, Rebecca. So there are a lot of parallels. Hey, all writers need their inspiration! I don't think there will be a Part II, I kind of like it that way.

    His voice, heavy with pain, called out to me, like it always did around midnight for the past 3 weeks. My eyelids fluttered open and my eyes strained to listen. But like every other night all I noticed was the sound of the wind wailing and the swish of the weeping willow outside my window. I have like this every night since I have moved to Haverly Estates, the same voice, and the same bitter wind. No matter how pleasant the daytime is, the night is wicked and haunts me with its sounds. I do not know who the man is, who calls to me in the night. But I’m sure it is not just the weeping willow that beckons. Like usual I couldn’t sleep afterwards so I stared out the window at the weeping willow swaying the wind. As my eyelids slowly lowered heavy with sleep I could almost imagined that I could see a deathly white man under the weeping willow. But my curiosity could not hold back the sleep, and I slept without dreams until morning.

    A new voice now called through to me in my deep sleep. This one was familiar though. I heard, “Mrs. Van Buke! Mr. Van Buke has been calling for you for over an hour. Please get up!” A light peers into my eyes and pries them open. There in front of me is my scullery maid, Ella.

    “Oh, I’m so sorry to have bothered you but it was Mr. Van Buke’s orders, Ma’am. He thought you might be sick with fever and that I should get you up and air out the room while you take your morning walk.”     “I’m quite fine!” I snapped. I could tell from her face she was surprised by these harsh words. I had taken a liking to Ella. She was new to the house, like me, and, unlike the others, Ella had respect for me. I could tell from her face, that she was taken back by the harsh words but couldn’t find the words to ask why. I really did want to tell her of my nightly visitor, but I was too scared that I would lose that look of admiration when she found out I was deathly frightened of the wind in the weeping willow.

    “I’m sorry, Ella. I just feel a bit under the weather today.” I tried to smile to reassure her. A look of relief and understanding suddenly spread across her face. And with that the rest of the morning routine went continued you like every other morning.

    It was not until late afternoon that I saw Henry. He had some business in London and had left early in the morning while I was still asleep. We happily walked across the yard with Charlie, our cockerspaniel, at our heels. He glanced over me and his warm brown eyes traced my face.

    “Oh dear”, he murmured, “I fear Haverly hasn’t been good to you.”

    “What do you mean by that?” I asked trying to act surprised.

    “Well, My Dear”, he continued, “we have only been here only 3 weeks and already you have lost your vacation tan. And your hair seems to be getting lighter and limper everyday”, he said this as he reached out his hand to touch my silky chestnut hair.

    “Oh, really, I had not noticed”, I said self-consciously, and, with my left hand, I also touched my hair. “It’s just that I’m not used to the cold. I will be fine in a month, when I am more weathered”, I said giving him a reassuring smile.

    “If you say so, Dear. It’s just that I worry about you so much! You all alone in an old house while I’m away for business.”

   A strained laugh escaped from my lips and I looked away saying, “Oh, that is not true! I have lovable Ella and the house is always full with the staff! And I can always get away and walk through the garden with Charlie.” I said this with confidence though I did not feel it. It was so dreadfully lonely in the large estates of Haverly. I was not really fond for any of the staff though they did try to befriend me, for Henry’s sake. I knew it was just charity and that they went into the kitchen afterwards and talked of me as if I was cattle.

    I could hear them saying, “Oh! Did you see the dress she was wearing today? It was totally unflattering!” Or they would say, “Not for all my life, could I understand why Mr. Van Buke married her! Sure, she is nice to look at, but the truth is that, under that pretty skull of hers, there isn’t much there!” Then they would be rolling on the floor laughing their heads off. Their ever-present smirk was etched in my mind. I found some comfort in Ella, though I dared not confide in her. My love for Henry and the responsibility of being a role model for Ella was the only thing that kept me sane in this lonely house. I noticed we were walking in silence, so in a vain attempt to make conversation and appear jolly, I stiffly bent down and scratched the top of our good old beagle, Charlie and remarked on how pleasant the spring would be. Charlie whined and stretched in the sunshine. Before Henry could reply a call came from across the lawn.

    “Mr. Van Buke! Urgent phone call from London says they need to speak with you!” Giles, our butler, called.

   “Oh, dear”, Henry muttered. “Well, I must be off. Do try to enjoy yourself”, he quickly said as he kissed the top of my head and hurried across the lawn toward the waiting phone call. I smiled wanly and waved to appease him, but I could not ignore that I was once again alone in Haverly.