The Demon Lover

The Demon Lover Summary | Detailed Summary

On a dreary, drizzly afternoon, Mrs. Drover returns to her London Home. She has come to gather some belongings that her family has left behind when they moved out to country to escape the bombs of World War II. At the moment there is no rain, but clouds are building up and another rain storm is on its way. Mrs. Drover has the feeling that somebody is watching her, although there is nobody around except a cat rubbing its back against the railings. She unlocks the warped door and pushes into the musty hall. The hall is dark, so she opens up a big window in the living room. As she looks about her, Mrs. Drover contemplates the life she previously lived in her Kensington home. The remaining furniture is all covered, and the piano has been removed. Everything is slightly dusty and smelling of the cold chimney. She puts down her parcels and heads upstairs to her bedroom.

She notices some new cracks from the bombing, but otherwise, it appears the caretaker is doing his job. As she looks around her eyes fall on a letter on top of the hall table. She is puzzled over its appearance. The caretaker knows that she is not expected in town today; so it is unlikely he would have left the letter lying on the table. All of her friends and acquaintances know that she lives the country, and the post office has directions to send all her mail to the country house. If the letter had been dropped in the mail slot, it would still be there and not on the hall table. Extremely puzzled, Mrs. Drover chalks up the letter's appearance to the carelessness of the caretaker. Now Mrs. Drover turns her attention to the contents of the letter. It is a short note, and the words shock her. The writer reminds her that they are to meet at their appointed time that day. Mrs. Drover notices that the date of the letter is the current one. Feeling herself go white, Mrs. Drover stares in the mirror, perhaps to verify that she is truly herself. The mirror reveals a 44-year-old woman, one who has lived a full life, but that is now faced with a ghost from her past.

As the rain begins crashing down, she's in a state of confusion over the letter's threat. It's been 25 years. How could she possibly remember what time was appointed for a meeting. The clock strikes six and Mrs. Drover determines that she needs to leave the house before the next hour chimes. Suddenly Mrs. Drover is the 19-year-old, Kathleen back in her parents' garden, a young girl saying goodbye to her soldier fiancé. She doesn't remember much about the soldier; she cannot even really remember his face. However, what she does remember is that he was not gentle or kind. While they stood out in that garden saying goodbye to each other, the soldier pressed her hand to his uniform very tightly, a button cutting into her hand, leaving behind a welt. She pledged to wait for him to return from the war, and there must have been a meeting planned. She tells him that he's going such a long way off, and he replies, "Not so far as you think." He continues by saying he will always be with her. She need do nothing but wait for his return. She remembers feeling very lost and wishing she had not made such a promise.

When a few months later her fiancé was reported missing, Kathleen was not as upset as she thought she would be at hearing of his presumed death. Her parents were relieved as well, never having felt comfortable with the young man who was to marry their daughter. They thought that in the few years, she would get over her loss and turn to new loves. However things did not work out that way. There did not seem to be many men interested in Kathleen. She had no suitors, no lovers, and no offers of marriage. When she was in her early thirties, and fearful of remaining a spinster, William Drover began courting her. They married, moved to Kensington Gardens, and began their family. They lived pleasantly, if a little dully, until bombs forced them to relocate to the English countryside.

As it continues to storm, Mrs. Drover puzzles over the appearance of the letter. Her own room, emptied of possessions and showing the effects of a long war, offers her no comfort. How did the letter come to be in the house? If the caretaker did not bring the letter inside, how did it get on the table? Mrs. Drover does not want to dwell on the supernatural implications of the letter's appearance. She considers the ways her home could be entered without a key. Maybe the deliverer of the letter is still there. Maybe she is not alone. What was the hour of their meeting to be? It could not be six o'clock as that hour has already chimed. Her first instincts are just to run away from the house. However, her family is depending on her to bring home certain items from London. She moves about tying parcels with fumbling fingers, the clock drawing nearer to the next hour. Mrs. Drover makes up her mind to call a taxi. The thought of a taxi driver, moving through the house with her to retrieve parcels, puts her at ease. She remembers that the phones have been disconnected, so she prepares to leave the house in search of a taxi. They will return, retrieve the packages, and head back to her family in the country.

Continuing to pack, Mrs. Drover's mind returns once more to August of 1916. The intervening 25 years disappear, and she is again that young girl, remembering everything with the clarity of glass. She remembers totally submitting herself to her fiancé's will. She was not herself, as everyone told her. She remembers all the details of that week in the summer; however, she has no recollection of her fiancé's face. That thought scares her more than any of her others. If she cannot remember her old lover's face, how will she know him to escape from him?

Mrs. Drover stands at the top of the stairs, ready to descend, and imagines she feels a draft of air traveling up the stairs from a basement window or door that has been opened. Perhaps someone is leaving the house. She makes her way from her home to the busy square where ordinary life continues. There are people walking, pushing their babies in strollers, and riding their bicycles. She slows her footsteps and goes in search of a taxi. This evening, there is only one taxi at the taxi rank. It starts its engine as Mrs. Drover approaches. As she settles into the taxi, a clock strikes seven. The driver has turned around in the direction of Mrs. Drover's house before she realizes that she told him where to go. She knocks on the window that separates the front seat from the back. The driver, braking quickly, turns around and slides the panel open. The action flings Mrs. Drover forward so that her face is almost touching that of the driver's. It takes a few moments before Mrs. Drover is able to scream. Then she screams loudly, beating against the windows of the taxi with her gloved hands as the driver heads off into the deserted streets.