Clara is Smarter than You are

LXIII

                I stood up as if she were royalty.

"Estella," I was breathless. After she left me standing in the dilapidated yard of Satis house, I had thought I would never see her again. Yet here she was, right next to Clara, in a rather revealing black gown with red trim - designed to hide things on her person in classic Estella style

She acknowledged me with a nod, "Pip."

Clara, who had finished righting the table and replacing the pieces in their proper spaces, walked to Estella's side.

Herbert regained his composure, "Dear Clara, is that where you got your dress?"

Clara looked down and found she was still wearing her elaborate gown – she had been in such a hurry to leave she forgot the demands of fashion. She looked back up at Herbert with a steady gaze, "Yes. My Estella was kind enough to advise me on how to carry out this operation."

I shot an indignant look at Clara, "Your Estella?"

Here Estella chose to speak, "Check your tone, Pip. You must know that she is mine, and I am hers. Forgive me for not sending a letter to you earlier – I was afraid it would spoil the surprise."

"I thought you loved-"

"Pip, I told you I did not have the heart. I do not have the heart still – I have never had it, and never will. You need to understand that."

I stood there numbly as she continued, "We have been friends all our mature lives, yes?"

I nodded.

"Then there is nothing to be worried about. And besides, you are currently... preoccupied," Estella looked suggestively between me and Herbert, then to Clara, who nodded her agreement that we were certainly preoccupied with each other.

Herbert and I were about to protest when Estella noticed a stray chess piece from the fallen table. Shaking her head, she bent down to retrieve it.

"You two are still as reckless as ever, I see. You're grown men and yet you still act so impulsively," she turned to Clara, "How on earth, my dear, do you keep them from destroying the house?"

Clara smiled, "I'm rather used to it, but I suppose they need to be somewhat entertained. Herbert has his business, and Pip has become quite the reader as of late."

"Hold on a minute," I interrupted, "we don't act impulsively, we have a certain... spontaneity that I think adds to our character."

Estella laughed, "Of course, Pip," then collecting herself, said, "I hope you enjoy the fruits of our efforts, gentlemen. We worked very hard to get everyone in the most desirable situation."

"How long have you been planning this, exactly?" Herbert asked.

"Well, Pip talked about you and Clara often, so I decided to get in touch. That was, what, long before you two decided to smuggle a criminal out of the country, I believe it was at a ball. Anyway, I got in touch with my dear Clara and we knew from that moment that God had intended us for each other – though I don't know why he would condone such a thing. To keep up appearances, I deliberately shunned you – sorry about that – and married Drummle. Although it was quite an ordeal, I'm glad the horse got him before the poison did. As a widow I got much of his fortune, which I used to live a sustainable and lovely life until I could get to Clara, as I have now done." Estella's tone was very nonchalant, as if she had said this many times before.

"You killed Drummle?" I gasped, unsure what to think at such an insinuation.

"I did not," Estella was indignant, "His own tyranny and violence did. He beat that horse every day until it stomped him into oblivion."

"You said something about poison," I retorted.

"He died before it killed him. So technically I am at no fault whatsoever. It was a slow acting – and before you ask, it did not alter his behavior – and would have taken at minimum another month to begin harming his health. I put a small amount into his evening tea every day – he took his evening tea religiously. He would have died a peaceful death, although I have to say what really happened was much more satisfying."

"Estella, I don't understand, how could you do such a thing?"

"Pip," she smiled softly, "You opened my eyes to many truths. One of which is that we must do all we can for the ones we love. And for that I am grateful. I fear I have no remorse for what I did to Drummle, for my mother taught me to have no remorse. I am afraid that I was – and am – too far broken by the training of my youth, but I have found good employment as a result."

"What do you mean, good employment? You don't work!"

"That is enough for now," Clara interrupted, "Estella and I are going to retire to my rooms – she is very tired from her journey."

With that they linked arms and left.

Herbert turned to me once we heard Clara's door slam and the loud rustling of dresses.

"What do we do now?"

I looked at him, "My dear Herbert, I haven't the faintest idea."

And that, dear reader, concludes the story of Pip's Great Expectations.

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