The first packet of letters, bundled together and tied with narrow purple ribbon, were all written in the same hand, between a February of about sixty years beofre and a summer of the following year. They were sent first from the manor house of a villiage I remembered from the map as being some twenty miles away from Crythin Gifford, and later from a lodge in the Scottish countryside beyond Edinburgh. All were addressed to 'My Dear' or 'Dearest Alice' and signed for the most part 'J' but occassionally 'Jennet'. They were short letters, written in a direct, rather naive manner, and the story they told was a touching one and not particularly unfamiliar. The writer, a young woman and apparently a relative of Mrs Drablow, was unmarried and with child. At first, she was still living at home, with her parents: later, she was sent away. Scarcely any mention was made of the child's father, accept for a couple of references to 'P'. 'P will not come back home.' And: 'I think P was sent abroad.' In Scotland, a son was born to her, and she wrote of him at once, with a desperate, clinging affection. For a few months the letters ceased, but when they began again it was at first with desperate outrage and protest, later, in quiet, resigned bitterness. Pressure was being exerted upon her to give up the child for adoption; she refused, saying over and over again that they would 'never be parted'.

'He is mine. Why should I not have what is mine? He shall not go to strangers. I shall kill us both before I let him go.'

Then the tone changed.

'What else can I do? I am quite helpless. If you and M are to have him I shall mind it less.' And again, 'I suppose it must be.'

But at the end of the last letter of all was written in a very small, cramped hand: 'Love him, take care of him as your own. But his is mine, mine, he can never be yours. Oh, forgive me. I think my heart will break. J.'

In the same packet, there was a simple document drawn up by a lawyer, declaring that Nathaniel Pierston, infant son of Jennet Humfrye was become by adoption the child of Morgan Thomas Drblow of Eel Marsh House, Crythin Gifford and of his wife, Alice. Attached to this were three other papers. The first was a reference from a lady M - in Hyde Park Gate - for a nursemaid called Rose Judd.

I had read and set this aside, and was about to open the rest, a single folded sheet, when I looked up suddenly, startled in the present by a noise.

Spider was at the door, growling the same, low growl of the previous night. I looked around at her and saw that her heckles were up. For a moment I sat, too terrified to move. Then I recalled my decision to seek out the ghosts of Eel Marsh House and confront them, for I was sure - or I had been sure, in the hours of daylight - that the harder I ran away from those things, the closer they would come after me and dog my heels, and the greater would be their power to disturb me. And so, I laid the papers, got to my feet and went quickly to open the door of the small parlour in which I'd been sitting ...

WOMAN IN BLACK, THE
Fortune Theatre
by Stephen Mallatratt from the novel by Susan Hill
(07 Jun 1989 - Booking to 17 Dec 2011)

Russell Street, Covent Garden, London, WC2B 5HH

Julian Forsyth and Christopher Naylor in
THE WOMAN IN BLACK
Adapted by Stephen Mallatratt
From the novel by Susan Hill

Directed by Robin Herford
Designed by Michael Holt
Lighting by Kevin Sleep

Unanimously acclaimed by the critics, Stephen Mallatratt's adaptation of Susan Hill's best selling novel combines the power and intensity of live theatre with a cinematic quality inspired by the world of film noir. It is a formula that provides audiences with an evening of unremitting drama as they are transported into a terrifying and ghostly world.

Now in its 21st terrifying year, with over 7 million people have lived to tell the tale of one of the most exciting, gripping and successful theatre events ever staged.

'A TRULY NERVE-SHREDDING EXPERIENCE' - Daily Mail

'DON'T GO UNLESS YOU LIKE BEING SCARED OUT OF YOUR WITS' - Sunday Mirror

'THE MOST BRILLIANTLY EFFECTIVE SPINE CHILLER YOU WILL EVER ENCOUNTER... IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS SHOW YET YOU ARE MISSING A TREAT' - Daily Telegraph