Beatrice Gets Lost 1922

Leon puts the finishing touches to the string quartet he has been commissioned to compose. Now and then he looks out the window and sees his wife Beatrice sitting on the garden bench, hoping she remains there and not wander off. The young carer is upstairs making the bed, tidying up after Beatrice’s bath. He pauses and sits watching her. She was a fine ballet dancer, nimble and gymnastic, with excellent musical ears. Now she seems lost, her mind seemingly broken. She no longer seems to know who he is or where she is. The psychiatrist suggested a nursing home. What he meant was an insane asylum, and Leon can’t bring himself to do that. Her sister would never forgive him. He is nearly finished now, the last few notes. He writes down on the manuscript. He looks up, but Beatrice has gone, the bench empty. She puts down his pen, and rushes out of his study and along the passageway and out the back door, calling out to the carer. The carer rushes downstairs and they both go in search of his wife. He hopes the back gate is locked or she’ll go off into the field and down by the river. He calls out her name, but she seldom answers her name anymore. The carer goes one way and he the other. He is frantic. He calls out her name. After a number of moments, the carer calls out that she has found her. He finds Beatrice and the carer near the small fish pond, Beatrice kneeling down putting her hand in the water trying to catch the fish like a small cat. He sighs with relief. They walk her back to the house, Beatrice purring softly like a cat having caught a muse.