Parade's End Epilogue

Wounded

On a Friday night, Sylvia went to a party with Brownlie. There he saw Gerald Drake whom she did not pay attention to. After the party, Brownlie sent Sylvia home and suggested that he go in to the house. She politely declined. She entered the house and went up to her child's room first to check if he was asleep and he was. She then went to her room and started removing her earrings and the pins from her hair. When she had brushed her hair and got out of his dress and was prepared for bed, she heard footsteps from outside her bedroom door. 

"Michael?" she called out. The door opened. "Brownlie! What in the world are you doing here?!"

"I just came to tuck you in." Brownlie said with a smirk on his face.

"You'd better go home, Brownlie. You're drunk."

He walked towards her and placed his hand on her waist. Before Sylvia could move back, he caught her by the arm. "Why won't you forget about that ox? He doesn't deserve you." Brownlie breathed on her face. The smell of alcohol was pretty strong.

"If you're talking about my husband - "

"Yes, the husband who never thinks of you, who doesn't love you and never did." Brownlie interrupted.

Brownlie's words stung. "You don't deserve me more than my husband does." Sylvia said sharply while trying to free herself from him, but his grip tightened. In a millisecond, his other hand flung to the back of her neck and he started kissing her. "Brownlie! Let go of me!" She tried to push him away but instead he pushed her to the bed and got on top of her. He began kissing her neck while ripping off her nightgown. Before she could scream, Brownlie put a hand over her mouth. He unbuckled his belt and undid the button of his trousers with one hand. Without stopping, Brownlie forced herself into Sylvia and Sylvia screamed through his hand as tears fell from her eyes.

When he was done, he put his clothes back on and walked out of the door without a word. Sylvia remained lying on her bed with her nightgown ripped, tears were still flowing but her face emotionless. At one point, she managed to get up and put on a different nightgown, in worry that her son might walk in in the morning with her in her ripped clothes, and sat on the bed until dawn.

When the sun had risen, her maid, Evie, knocked on the door and came in.

"Tea, madam?" she asked.

"No, leave me. Don't let anyone but Michael come." Sylvia ordered the maid.

The maid, who obviously had not the slightest idea of what had happened the night before, left.

Moments later, Michael came to her room to inform her that he was going to go out with his father to take a walk at the park. She consented and he asked if she was alright. She had to lie to him so she said she was.

At the park, Christopher was walking silently with his son. Michael talked to him about his mother's recent behaviour.

"Mother seemed odd this morning." Michael started.

"Oh? Why is that so?" Christopher replied.

"Well, she didn't go for breakfast. And when I came in to her room, she was in bed, just sitting there, as if she never went to sleep."

"Is she ill?" Michael shrugged. "Alright, I'll pay her a visit later."

In the afternoon, Christopher went to Sylvia's flat to see her. The maid let him in but she wouldn't let him see her.

"I'm sorry sir, but Madame is not accepting visitors today," said the maid.

"Is he unwell?" Christopher asked.

"I'm not sure, sir."

"Well if she can't come down, could you please tell her that I'll just go up to her room? I need to speak with her."