She found herself momentarily recapturing the enormous relief she’d felt that night. And at breakfast next morning he’d again told her not to worry. But she hadn’t felt any too well and Saturday was the worst day of her week – ‘Two shows and then I had to see the load – the scenery and everything – onto the train, and then walk back from the station. It was colder than ever, snowing a little. By the time I got in – it was long after midnight – I was frozen, especially my hands. Miles had waited up for me. He said the landlady had left me some cold supper but he thought I ought to have something hot so he’d explored the kitchen and organized some bread-and-milk, he could do with some too, as he’d finished supper two hours ago. So he got it while I took off my coat and got into some bedroom slippers; I’d been on my feet, almost solidly, for over twelve hours. And even when I’d settled down by the fire I could hardly hold the spoon for my bread-and-milk because my hands were still numb. He warmed them between his and said my job was too hard for me, anyway it would be soon. Then, still holding my hands, he said, “Now don’t die of shock but I’ve been thinking, sitting here waiting for you, why don’t we get married? I like children and I shall never have any of my own” – during that week we’d talked quite a bit about his homosexuality – “and I could make everything easy for you. And you needn’t feel tied –”’ She broke off, wishing she hadn’t spoken the last words.

  ‘Did he say you could always have a divorce if you wanted one?’

  ‘Well, yes, but the situation’s different now. Neither of us could guess how we should come to feel about each other.’ She slid back into the past. ‘It shames me to remember that, in spite of feeling grateful to him, I was – well, almost horrified. Oh, even then I was perfectly tolerant about homosexuals but somehow the idea of marrying one did stagger me. But I don’t think I let him see I felt anything like that. I said surely he’d want to set up house again with someone like Alan, and he said never. What he’d felt for Alan was the love of a lifetime and both he and Alan had felt it would last a lifetime. For the moment he couldn’t imagine ever being even attracted by anyone else. Presumably he would be some day but if so it would only lead to … I think he said there might be “interludes”, though he hated to think there would be. Anyway, they surely wouldn’t affect me, and he would sincerely like to marry me; being able to help me would somehow help him as well. Then he told me to eat my bread-and-milk before it got cold. He ate his too, sitting on the other side of the fire, and talked about his house in Islington and how he was dreading the thought of going back there without Alan. I knew he was trying to make me feel I’d be doing him a favour – and I believe he truly did want me to say yes on his account as well as my own; already there was something real between us. I never did actually say it, but I got as far as “Well, if you’re absolutely sure …” and then he plunged into making plans. Funny the things one’s memory hangs on to. Just beyond his head was a huge framed photograph of the landlady’s dead husband, enlarged from a snapshot and all blurred, like a spirit photograph. I’d have said I remembered everything about that room but I find I can only see the firelight and that man’s face; he had a waxed moustache. And Miles, of course, though in a way I see him as he is now. I wonder how much all this is conveying to you.’

  ‘At least it’s conveying that Miles didn’t exactly victimize you,’ said Thornton soberly.

  ‘Oh, good. One thing more, something I specially like remembering. It was nearly three when we decided to go to bed – by then there was no more coal. Miles parted the curtains to see what the weather was like; I’d told him it had been snowing and we had an early train call. Then he said, “Put the lights out and come here.” It must have gone on snowing – the whole street was white, under a bright moon. Normally it was a hideous street of drab, uniform houses with horrid bay windows, but it looked quite beautiful. I remember saying, “Transformation scene!” and Miles put his arm round me and said, “It’ll be all right, you know. We shall get through.” And we did.’

  ‘When were you married?’

  ‘Soon after the play opened in London. Miles got some kind of a special licence. And he tried to avoid publicity, but what a hope! Really, those weeks were fantastic. Miles was in love with a dead man and I with a man who was dead to me, and yet there was … well, a sort of spurious happiness, excitement, congratulations, and me making what seemed a marvellous match. Not very many people knew about Miles’s homosexuality, and some of those who did know thought they’d made a mistake, or that he’d reformed or something. Even now it’s far less known about him than about most stage homosexuals. Oh, God, when I look back! Do you know, I hadn’t taken in that he intended to treat me like a wife in every way but sleeping with me – I mean technically; we’ve always shared a bedroom, always wanted to. He showered presents on me. When we went shopping, if I said I liked something and then wasn’t sure, he’d say, “Buy it and find out.” Can you imagine what that was like to a girl who’d had as little as I’d had? Even the food … I told you there was a time when I compensated with it.’

  Thornton smiled. ‘Pregnant women are entitled to consider able gluttony, and God bless Miles for feeding you well. What happened to the baby?’

  She said, trying to sound merely matter-of-fact, ‘Oh, I had a miscarriage three months after we married. Miles had got me released from the show ages before that and I’d been taking every care. But it happened.’ From now on there was much she didn’t want to tell; indeed, couldn’t have told coherently, so long was it since she had let herself think about it. Perhaps she needed to now – or rather, when she had time to think. For the moment she finished up, ‘We were both of us desperately sorry and I was very ill. Miles was wonderful to me. And I’m sure you’ve now had more than enough of my sob story.’

  ‘That’s a superficial remark that’s unworthy of you,’ said Thornton. ‘And there’s still a lot more I want to know. But I’ll admit I’m beginning to find this kitchen chair a bit hard.’ He got up and began re-packing the picnic case. ‘What’s your deadline for getting back? Make it as late as possible.’

  ‘I needn’t call for Miles until half-past ten.’

  ‘Then there’s plenty of time for what I have in mind. But I’d like to get you out of this house now. It’s even more melancholy by twilight – and the glare of electricity makes it still worse. If you’re interested in what my daughters call “the girls” there’s one off the hall.’

  ‘Thoughtful,’ said Jill.

  ‘One learns to be, with daughters.’

  Studying her face in the looking glass of the little lavatory she experienced a fractional shock. She had been so immersed in the past that, for a split second, she expected to see herself in the past, with lank hair, drooping features. She was thankful to be herself as she was now, even with a smear of chocolate on one side of her mouth. Also – let’s face it, she thought, and faced it with the utmost eagerness – she now felt pleasurably excited, as excited as when alone in the house but without any trace of panic. In fact, the excitement was now exhilaration.

  When she came out into the hall Thornton was returning from carrying the picnic case to the car. He said, ‘Out with us, quick, and no backward glances. And if I’ve left a cigarette burning, the house has my delighted permission to go up in flames.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you mind, really?’

  ‘Only because I feel old houses should be preserved. Apart from that, a fire would be a splendid solution. Don’t worry, anyway. I never do leave cigarettes burning.’

  As they walked towards the car she said, ‘Wait a minute. I want just one backward glance.’

  Beyond the woods at the back of the house the sky was now flushed a deep rose, by contrast with which the house no longer glowed with its own fictitious sunset. It merely looked dark and unutterably sad. She felt pity for it.

  ‘How much of it did you explore?’ asked Thornton.

  ‘Most of it – I even went up to the attic. Did you know all those photographs were there???
?

  ‘Oh, yes. Sylvia turfed them out, said they reminded her of people.’

  ‘There was a wedding group. You looked so young. How old were you?’

  ‘Twenty-two. So was she. We met when I was stationed at an airfield near here. Of course I’d no idea then – But I’m not going to tell you the story of my life; anyway, not now. Probably not till we’re safely married.’

  ‘Geoffrey, for pity’s sake! You’re not still counting on that, not after all I’ve told you about Miles?’

  He said calmly, ‘My dear love, you’ve told me many things about yourself that I didn’t know, all of them valuable to me. But, as regards Miles, I’d already guessed he was a nice man, a good man, and nothing you’ve said has convinced me that you ought to stay married to him. Now stop worrying and let things sort themselves out. Either you’ll give in and marry me, or I shall give in and have an affair with you – but I’m ninety-nine percent certain I shan’t do the giving in.’

  ‘And if I won’t either? Do we just say goodbye for ever?’

  ‘It’s conceivable, I suppose. No, I refuse to consider it. Anyway, whatever the future brings, let’s just be happy for the rest of our evening. Please! Will you try?’

  She said, ‘Try? God help me, I’m practically delirious already.’

  A Teddy Bear and the Kama Sutra

  When they were on their way he said, ‘You’d probably like us to stop somewhere for a drink, wouldn’t you?’

  Something in his tone made her say, ‘Not unless you particularly want to.’

  ‘Me? I loathe drinking in pubs, even in so-called cosy village inns. As a matter of fact, I seldom drink anywhere unless it seems to me a social necessity.’

  ‘You gave us a very good hock, that night we had supper with you.’

  ‘Which my daughters eyed as if it were prussic acid. They have a real horror of alcohol. I’m not as bad as that so do say if you’d like us to call in somewhere.’

  She said she was none too fond of pubs herself. ‘I suppose they’re most people’s idea of heaven, judging by the dozens of pub scenes in television plays. But they’re apt to make me feel gloomy, on or off the screen. Anyway, I’m at present doing very nicely on auto-intoxication.’

  He laughed. ‘So am I. And I’d hate to associate this evening with that faintly sour smell so many pubs have. But I’ll feed you on the way home, in a place I associate with happiness.’

  ‘Heavens, I don’t think I can eat after all that tea.’

  ‘Well, we’ll see.’

  The sun was almost down now and a large, pale moon was rising. It gave her pleasure to see sun and moon together. But everything she now saw gave her pleasure. Every village they drove through looked enchanting – she refrained from mentioning that the lit-up bars of inns now struck her as fetching. The hedgeless fields had become delightful. The vast, cloudless sky shared by sun and moon seemed to her so beautiful that she longed to look up at it unobstructed by the car roof. At last she said, ‘Oh, please stop a minute. Let me out so that I can get the feel of everything.’

  He drew up, helped her from the car and across a ditch into a stubble field. There was no cottage in sight and, even in the distance, only a square church tower indicated a village. She said, ‘You wouldn’t believe how seldom I get into the country. Comes of having no car. Well, Miles thinks he’ll drive again.’

  ‘Good for Miles. But it’s no concern of yours – sorry I said that; we’re not going to argue this evening.’

  She said earnestly, ‘But, Geoffrey, there are some things I must get into your head – now, before we go any further. Surely everything I’ve told you today must have made you see I’m unsuitable to be your wife?’

  ‘Don’t repeat yourself. You’ve already mentioned that you’ve no politics.’

  ‘There’s more to it than that. My upbringing, lack of education –’

  ‘Don’t be snobbish.’

  ‘Me, snobbish? I’m being the reverse.’

  ‘You’re being snobbish towards yourself, which is one of the worst forms of snobbishness. And you’re trying to make a snob of me. I shall be extremely proud of you as a wife. And if it’s any comfort to your snobbish soul you speak far better English than my children and I do. You don’t – to use Robin’s phrase for it – “mince deplorably”.’

  ‘That comes of living with Miles. I’ve always imagined it was because of Miles your children made friends with me.’

  ‘Well, you’re a half-wit if you still think that. The girls adore you. Even Julian fell for you – though he did have an idea, before he met you, that you might be what he calls a “cover woman”.’

  ‘Blast Julian!’ Then she added soberly, ‘But it’s true in a way. I’ve always done everything I can to safeguard Miles’s reputation. That’s one reason why I’ve avoided making real women friends; one gossips to women friends. And it’s an extra reason why I’ll never divorce him.’

  ‘Is there anything I can do to stop you arguing?’

  She looked around. ‘Not here. There isn’t any cover. Not so much as a haystack.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know what your plans for the far side of a haystack were but at least, in a good cause, I’ll risk a kiss.’ After a moment, he added, ‘And my God, kissing you is a risk. I’m thankful there isn’t a haystack.’

  She said weakly, ‘I’ve never felt like this before. It’s frightening.’

  ‘It certainly frightens me, in view of my honourable intentions. We’re going back to the car, my girl.’

  They drove on through the gathering dusk. At last Thornton said, ‘This is where we leave the real country. From now on I shall be chaperoned by civilization.’

  ‘Did you say something about eating? Not that I’m ravenous but I daresay I could manage something. And it ought to be fairly soon if I’m to work up another appetite for supper with Miles.’

  ‘Why not tell him you’ve had supper with me?’

  ‘I’m not going to let him know I’ve been out with you for so long. You’re supposed to be a casual acquaintance – well, almost – and I shall have been with you’ – she counted up – ‘it’ll probably be eight hours. That might make him suspicious. Oh, not resentfully suspicious. But I don’t want him to be any kind of suspicious.’

  ‘I do – though I really want him to be certain. Anyway, the place I’m taking you isn’t far off. You may hate it. Perhaps I only like it because I went there with the girls, the last time they came to Hallows with me. They hated coming but there were things we had to decide about the house; it was a few weeks after their mother died. We were absolutely flattened by memories, regret, pity – though Kit says she can’t feel pity for her mother; I think she would if she’d seen her during her last illness. When we were on our way back to London she said, “Well, now it’s ended. And we’re all going to admit that we’re relieved. In spite of everything, you’ve managed to give us a pretty happy childhood but we couldn’t be really happy when we knew all the horror you had to cope with. From now on we’re all going to be madly happy. And I should like my equivalent of getting dead drunk. Let’s go to an Espresso.” And we went.’

  ‘And that’s where you’re taking me now?’

  ‘If you’re willing. I suppose it’s sentimental of me but somehow the girls are so much involved with what you and I feel for each other. Aren’t you conscious of that yourself?’

  She nodded and said – but this time without rancour – ‘The great Thornton take-over bid. If only you’d chosen someone who was free.’

  ‘I’m afraid the thought of rescuing you added to our zest. And it’s no use saving you’re not in need of rescue. Any right-minded person –’

  ‘Don’t talk to me of right-minded persons. Masses of them would like to jail Miles for life.’

  ‘Surely not nowadays?’

  ‘Yes, indeed. I’ve heard them on television, screaming with indignation.’

  The café, which they shortly reached, was in a small town which resembled an overgrown vill
age and still belonged more to the country than to London, though the wide High Street was garishly lit. The café, by contrast, was a dim, smoky cave. There was barely enough light to reveal the tropical decorations on the walls, which contrasted oddly with the pink and white striped awning over the counter. Except behind the counter Jill could see only young people, all of them talking with surprising quietness, or not talking at all. The only raucous sound came from the juke box, which was blaring out a rhythm rather than a tune.

  ‘I’m afraid it’s rather full,’ said Thornton. ‘Of course, it’s Saturday night. If you’d rather not –’

  ‘Looks gorgeous to me,’ said Jill, though it was the clientele rather than the café that she liked. The boys and girls in their very ‘with-it’ clothes looked untidy and none too clean and yet somehow attractive. And each group seemed to her perfectly composed. ‘See, there’s a free table.’

  They managed to slide into it. The clientele took not the slightest notice of them but a woman from behind the counter came to get their order.

  ‘The girls and I had some good toasted sandwiches,’ Thornton told Jill. ‘There were cheese, and bacon and tomato.’