'Gregory!' Ann ran forward, clutching at the mason's arm, 'stop him! Oh, don't let him, please?'
Sallust shook himself free impatiently. 'Let him what?'
'Take me away! He's trying to force me to go to the country with him against my will!'
'Is that true? Sallust looked sharply at Kenyon.
'Yes, more or less but if she stays here she'll starve.'
'That's so. I'm clearing out tonight. Why don't you want to go, Ann?'
'I won't! not with him. Gregory, if you're going, take me with you please?'
'Sorry, my dear it's quite impossible.'
'But why why?'
'Because I'm too old a soldier to want to have a woman hampering my movements at a time like this.'
'Don't be a brute, Gregory. You can drop me directly we get into the country. I'll manage somehow then.'
'Don't you be a stupid little fool. If Fane is ass enough to want to take you let him! and thank God for giving you such damn fine eyes!'
'Thanks,' Kenyon cut in. 'If ever we meet again I'll stand you the best magnum of champagne we can find for giving her that sound piece of advice. Come on, Ann!'
'Gregory please?' she begged.
'Oh, shut up, and get out I'm busy. And for God's sake keep what you've seen to yourselves, otherwise someone will come and break this wall before I get back.'
She turned on Kenyon, her eyes blazing. Im not going with you I won't!'
'You are,' he said, 'and now!' Then stooping suddenly, he picked her up in his arms. She kicked and fought, but it was useless. In stature she was hardly taller than a well grown girl of fifteen, and still struggling ineffectively, he carried her down the stairs.
'Darlings!' shrieked Veronica as they appeared on the pavement. 'Romance at last! How too thrilling!' She flung open the door of Kenyon's car while Carter and Lucy, now seated side by side in her own, endeavoured to hide their interest and astonishment under masks of gravity.
Kenyon dumped his burden in the centre of the car. Veronica slipped into the near side, and slammed the door while he ran round to the driver's seat.
Ann wriggled into an upright position as Kenyon touched the accelerator. 'Let me get out,' she cried fiercely. 'Let me get out! Help!'
'Shut, up, damn you,' snapped Kenyon. He was furious that he should have let himself in for such a scene, but determined now to go through with it. The car slid forward.
'Help!' shouted Ann again, while the residents who remained in Gloucester Road began to fling up their windows to learn the cause of the excitement; but Veronica put a restraining hand on her shoulder.
'Listen, my sweet,' she said firmly, 'if the police or anyone stop us now I'm going to tell them you are loopy. Your poor little baby died last night and the shock has temporarily turned your brain, so your nice kind cousin Veronica is taking you to the country. I've got away with worse stories than that in my time, so you needn't think they won't believe me understand?'
'Yes,' sobbed Ann. 'I believe you'd get away with murder!'
'I would,' said Veronica, 'if it was for anyone I was fond of!'
?8
Nightmare Night!
Ann let herself relax into a more comfortable position between them, realising suddenly that she had been acting like a fool. All day she had been striving to leave London, really frightened now as to what might happen in the capital, and here was a heaven sent opportunity. If it had not been for Kenyon's high handed treatment of her the previous night if he had only tried persuasion instead of bullying and if she had not been so wretchedly tired after her long and disappointing day, she would have come quite willingly. He could not prevent her leaving him at the journey's end if she wished.
Kenyon was angry with Ann, and with himself. If only she had been reasonable the night before this ridiculous scene would not have occurred, but he ought, of course, to have been more patient with her actually to kidnap her was pretty stiff it was the impulsive nature which went with his red hair, he thought ruefully, which led him into scrapes like this. Anyhow, the thing was done, and he had her safely beside him in the car, which meant a lot. He turned his attention to the best way of getting out of London.
'Why this gaiety by night?' asked Veronica. They were coming into Grosvenor Place, and the sound of many voices raised in a swinging chorus came to them from the direction of Piccadilly.
'Sailors in the Green Park, I expect,' muttered Kenyon, 'looks as if they had bonfires going too,' he added glancing eastwards at the red glare that lit the dying twilight.
'Poor Queen Elizabeth all her nice furniture at Buck House going up in smoke.'
'Oh, no, I don't think so,' he disagreed as he swung the car in the direction of Victoria but Veronica was already thinking of other things.
'What sort of a reception would they have a Banners?' she was wondering. 'It was one thing to arrive there according to their plan of the previous evening with Ann as a willing adjunct to the party. Juliana Augusta might prove a little awkward, but Veronica had prepared a story to fit the case, and at the time she had counted on Ann's cooperation in putting it over. Now it was a very different matter. This small, pink wildcat with the tawny eyes was apparently guaranteed to blow up on the slightest pretext. What asses they would look if Ann spilled the beans about her forcible abduction!'
By the tram terminus at Victoria there was a considerable gathering of people. The trams, like the tubes and buses, had now ceased running altogether, but the crowd appeared to be waiting there on the off chance that something might happen. A news van drew up just ahead of the car and the people swarmed towards it, so they were compelled to pull up, while bundle after bundle of the thin sheets were distributed to eager hands. The man on the van would give no change. 'No time,' he kept on repeating and many a shilling or half crown reached his ready palm in addition to the coppers of the multitude, which seemed to grow every moment. Within four minutes the van was empty and the disappointed members of the throng sullenly dispersing.
Kenyon had no chance to secure a copy, but a bystander gave him the leading items of news from the single sheeted edition which he held.
The Government had resigned… the Communist minority in the House had made a bid for power, but the Committee of Imperial Defence had temporarily taken over the control of the country… there was a stirring appeal by the Prince for fair play and the maintenance of law and order. All loyal citizens were asked to refrain from hoarding food, and adding to the difficulties of the police by congregating in the streets.
The crowd thinned, and Kenyon was able to proceed slowly through it. Soon they were running at a good pace down Victoria Street, which was almost deserted; long lines of shuttered shops, gloomy and lifeless in the shadows, for there had been more trouble at the power stations and only one side of the street was lighted.
At Westminster there were crowds again also apparently waiting for something to happen. The great bulk of the Parliament Houses loomed up grim and silent, deserted after the last momentous session. The strong iron gates were closed, and police mounted guard at the entrances. In the yard, which is habitually the parking place for Members' cars, Kenyon saw groups of soldiers sitting about or leaning on their rifles.
By sticking close behind a police van, he managed to get through the square without difficulty, and round the corner to Westminster Bridge, but to his surprise he found the bridge head guarded. A large tank stood in the middle of the road, chains had been drawn across from side to side and detachments of police stood on either pavement. An inspector came forward.
'Can't I go through?' asked Kenyon.
'No, sir. I'm sorry, but this bridge has been closed to traffic and pedestrians.'
'But why?'
'Well, it's not that we mind people going south, sir, but to prevent them coming over from the other side. If we took the barrier down they might rush us.'