In her fur traveling dress, Estella looked more beautiful than I had ever seen her. Her manner was friendlier than before, and I felt that this change was because of Miss Havisham’s influence.
We stood in the yard of the Inn while she pointed out her luggage to me. I was so focused on her that I had forgotten to ask where she was going.
"I am going to Richmond," she told me. "There are two places called Richmond, but mine is the one in Surrey. It is ten miles away. I am going in a carriage, and you must take me there. Here is my purse; you will use it to pay for everything. You must take it! We have no choice, you and I, but to obey our instructions. We are not free to do what we want."
She spoke as if we were both following a plan made by someone else. I hoped there was a deeper meaning in her words, but she said them coldly.
"A carriage will take some time to arrive, Estella," I said. "Will you rest here for a while?"
"Yes, I am to rest here, and I am to have some tea. You must take care of me while we wait."
She put her arm through mine. I asked a waiter to show us to a private room. He was a strange man who looked at the carriage as if he had never seen one before. He led us upstairs to a dark, small room that smelled of old soup and horses. It was a very unpleasant place, but because Estella was there, it felt perfect to me. I thought I could stay there with her forever.
"Where will you live in Richmond?" I asked.
"I am going to live with a lady who will introduce me to people in society," she said. "Miss Havisham is paying a lot of money for this."
"I suppose you will enjoy having people admire you?"
"Yes, I suppose so," she answered. She sounded so bored that I told her she spoke about herself as if she were a different person.
"You must not try to teach me how to speak, Pip," she said with a small smile. "I must talk in my own way. Anyway, how are you getting on with Mr. Pocket?"
"I live there quite pleasantly," I said. Then, I added, "At least, as pleasantly as I could anywhere away from you."
"You silly boy," Estella said calmly. "How can you say such nonsense? Your friend Mr. Matthew Pocket is much better than the rest of his family, isn't he?"
"He is very superior," I agreed. "He is a good man."
"I have heard he is honest and not jealous," Estella said. "But you cannot say the same about his relatives. They are always telling Miss Havisham bad things about you. They watch you and write letters about you because they hate you."
"I hope they do me no harm?" I asked.
Suddenly, Estella burst out laughing. It was a strange, genuine laugh. "You may be sure they won't succeed," she said. "I laugh because they fail. Oh, those people and the way they suffer because of you!"
She saw that I was confused by her laughter, so she explained. "It is hard for you to understand how happy it makes me to see those people fail. You were not brought up in that strange house. I was. I have been there since I was a baby. I had to learn how to defend myself against their lies and their fake sympathy. I saw who they really were from a very young age."
She was serious now. Her eyes showed a deep, old pain.
"I can tell you two things," she continued. "First, do not worry; those people will never ruin your friendship with Miss Havisham. Second, I am grateful to you because you make them so angry and jealous. Here is my hand."
She gave me her hand playfully. I held it and kissed it.
"You ridiculous boy," Estella said. "Will you never take a warning? Or do you kiss my hand for the same reason I let you kiss my cheek once?"
"What reason was that?" I asked.
"Because I hated all those people who were trying to please Miss Havisham."
"If I say yes, may I kiss your cheek again?"
"You should have asked before you touched my hand," she replied. "But yes, if you like."
I leaned down and kissed her. Her face was as calm and cold as a statue's. The moment I touched her, she moved away. "Now," she said, "go and find out where the tea is, and then take me to Richmond."
It hurt me when she spoke like that—as if we were just puppets being moved by Miss Havisham. I realized that I could not trust her feelings or build any hope on them. Yet, I continued to love her against all hope.
The tea finally arrived, served by the strange waiter. After we finished, I paid the bill and we got into the carriage. As we drove through London, we passed the dark walls of Newgate Prison. I felt ashamed of my recent visit there and didn't want Estella to know.
"What place is that?" she asked.
I pretended not to recognize it at first, then I told her. She looked at the prison and whispered, "Wretches!"
"Mr. Jaggers," I said, trying to change the subject, "knows more about that place than anyone in London."
"He knows the secrets of every place, I think," Estella said quietly.
We talked for the rest of the journey. London was new to her, as she had lived most of her life with Miss Havisham or in France. I realized she was trying to be charming and attract me, but this didn't make me happy. I felt she held my heart in her hand only because she chose to, not because she actually cared for me.
When we passed through Hammersmith, I showed her where Mr. Pocket lived.
"You are to come and see me often," she said. "I am going to live with a mother and daughter. It is all part of Miss Havisham’s plan. I must write to her constantly and tell her how I am going on." Then she sighed and added, "I have to report everything—me and the jewels. They are nearly all mine now."
It was the first time she had ever called me "Pip." I knew she did it on purpose, and I knew I would remember it forever.
We arrived at a large, old house in Richmond. Two maids came out to meet Estella. She gave me a smile, said good-night, and went inside. I stood outside the house in the moonlight, thinking how happy I would be if I lived there with her. At the same time, I knew the truth: I was never happy when I was with her, but I was always miserable when I was away from her.
I traveled back to the Pockets' house with a heavy heart. When I arrived, I found the house in its usual state of confusion. Mrs. Pocket had given the baby a needle-case to play with to keep him quiet, and now several needles were missing. It was a mess, and everyone was worried the baby had swallowed them.
I thought about talking to Mr. Pocket and telling him about my feelings for Estella. He was a wise man who gave good advice to everyone else. But when I looked at the chaos in his own home, I changed my mind. I decided to keep my heartache to myself.