A Christmas Homecoming - Anne Perry [26]
Caroline leaned forward in her seat as they put more energy and movement into their positions on the stage. It was beginning to come alive. She forgot she was sitting on a chair in a stranger’s house in Whitby, working to make something good out of something poor. Bram Stoker’s characters became people; the dark shadow of the vampire reached out and chilled them all.
Vincent was enthusiastic about Van Helsing’s new and larger role. As Joshua had predicted to Caroline, he grasped at the chance to play Renfield as well. He did not do it exactly as Ballin had, but he did it slyly, at moments pathetically. In spite of her dislike of Vincent, Caroline was forced to be both fascinated and moved by his performance. Renfield became not a device to further the plot but a real person, revolting and pitiful. Vincent Singer was Van Helsing, and Van Helsing, in his portrayal, was Renfield. The magic was complete.
When they changed the scene, stopping for a few minutes to talk about movements, Caroline turned to Eliza sitting beside her. She saw the awe in Eliza’s face, the naked emotion.
Aware of being looked at, Eliza colored a little and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”
“No. And please don’t be sorry. You were caught up in it. So was I. It is the greatest compliment you can pay an actor,” Caroline replied.
Eliza looked startled. “I suppose it is. You know, for a moment I believed it as if I were there. Do you suppose there really are people like poor Renfield?”
“I fear there are.” Caroline shivered. “But I am quite sure that there are no actual vampires.”
“Actual?” Eliza stared at her. “But such seductive art is real, isn’t it! People who prey on one another, even who live by feeding on each other in some emotional way.”
“I think that is the whole point,” Caroline agreed. “It would hardly frighten us if the danger were only imaginary. We jump at shadows the first time, and then we laugh at our own foolishness and feel silly, but happy that there was no substance to it. If at heart we know the evil is real, then the feeling is completely different.”
Eliza looked at her with anxiety. “Should we be dealing with such ideas about real evil at Christmas? Isn’t it … inappropriate?”
“But isn’t the good real as well?” Caroline countered simply.
Eliza swallowed hard, her throat tightening.
“I used to believe the battle between good and evil was something of a fairy story,” Caroline went on seriously. She remembered Sarah’s death. She felt the horror again, as sharp as if it had been yesterday.
“Now as I get older and have seen more, I believe it is real. We need redeeming so desperately. We need hope because without it we have nothing. If there is a God, then mercy and renewal must be possible, even if we understand only a little of them, and nothing at all of how such redemption works. We get so much wrong, make so many rules, because it deludes us into thinking we have control of what goes on around us. We don’t, and we shouldn’t want to.
“For heaven’s sake, we are so limited!” she added with sudden ferocity. “We need a force infinitely bigger and wiser than we are in our lives. But we cannot have good without also the possibility of evil, so if there are angels, then there must be devils as well. If we are even remotely honest with ourselves, we know that. So …” She looked at Eliza’s face and wondered if she had already said too much. “So in a way devils and demons are good,” she finished. “Because if we are reminded that there is evil, even supernatural manifestations of it, then we will believe in and love the good even more.”
Eliza was smiling. She put out a hand very tentatively, resting it on Caroline’s arm. “My dear, you are a remarkable woman. I could never have imagined that watching a group of actors working would have taught me something I so badly needed to know. Thank you so much.” Then, as if embarrassed by her frankness,