Поворот винта. Уровень 1 / The Turn of the Screw - стр. 10

“His influence?” She repeated with a painful look, waiting for me to continue.

“On innocent little lives. They were under your care.”

“No, they weren’t under mine!” She replied firmly. “The master trusted him and put him here because he was supposed to be unwell, and the country air would be good for him. So he had all the authority. Yes,”—she told me sternly[34]—”even over them.”

“Over those children?” I had to hold back a cry. “And you could stand it!”

“No, I couldn’t—and I can’t now!” And the poor woman started crying.

From the next day, there would be strict control over the children, as I said before. However, we couldn’t stop talking about the subject passionately for a whole week! We had discussed it on Sunday night, but I couldn’t help but feel that there was something she hadn’t told me. I had been completely open, but Mrs. Grose had kept a secret. I was sure that she didn’t do that because she wasn’t honest. She was afraid and that’s it. Looking back now, it seems that I had already interpreted[35] most of the meaning behind the situation, thanks to following more terrible events. What those events showed to me was the presence of a mysterious man who was still alive, while the dead one would stay a mystery for a while. This man had spent several months at Bly, which was quite a long time. The end of this terrible period only came when, on a winter morning, Peter Quint’s body was found on the road. The cause of his death was a head wound[36], which have been caused by a slip on an icy slope[37]. It was a wrong path to take, especially in the dark and after having drinks at the pub.

I don’t know how to explain my feelings in simple words, but during that time I found joy in being brave. We were all in danger together. They had no one but me, and I had them. It was a wonderful opportunity. This opportunity came to me like a clear picture. I was like a shield, standing in front of them. The more I watched them, the less they noticed me. I started watching them with nervousness[38] and excitement. It could have turned to madness[39] if it had lasted too long. But it turned into something else. It turned into horrible evidence. The evidence started when I took action.

The moment this happened was one afternoon when I was alone in the garden with the younger child. We had left Miles inside reading a book. His sister, on the other hand, had wanted to come outside. We walked together for about half an hour. I noticed how both children were able to be independent yet still be with me. They never asked for attention but also never seemed bored. I enjoyed watching them have fun without needing me. It was like being a special person or thing in their game, and I was happy to play that role. I can’t remember what role I played that day, but I know I felt important and Flora was playing happily. We were near the lake, which we called the Sea of Azov because we were learning about geography.

Suddenly, I realized that there was someone watching us from the other side of the Sea of Azov. I was sitting on an old stone bench near the lake when I felt, without actually seeing, the presence of another person in the distance. I was sure that if I looked across the lake, I would see that person. I was busy stitching and tried not to look. I thought that it could be one of the men from the area or even a messenger, a postman, or a tradesman’s boy, from the village. But my thoughts didn’t seem right to me.