“Sometimes.”
“I don’t really take to abbreviations, but I shall think about it. Better than ‘Cola,’ which sounds like a commercial.”
“I am never called ‘Cola.’ ”
“That’s right. One must draw the line somewhere, must not one?”
Conscious of an immense and illogical wave of happiness, Nicola looked at him. Why should his not singularly distinguished profile be so pleasing to her? Was it the line of the jaw, about which she seemed to remember lady novelists make a great to-do? Or his mouth, which she supposed should be called generous? It was certainly amusing.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You were looking at me,” Andrew said, keeping a steady eye on the road.
“Sorry.”
“Not at all. Dear Nicola.”
“Don’t go too fast.”
“I’m not. She won’t do more than fifty. Oh, I beg your pardon. I see what you mean. All right, I won’t. But my aim, as I thought I had indicated, is not an immediate, snappy little affair with no bones broken. Far from it.”
“I see.”
“Tell me, if you don’t mind, what you think of my people. No holds barred. It’s not an idle question.”
“I like your mama.”
“So do I, but of course one ought to point out her legend which I expect you’re familiar with, anyway. Most of it’s fairly true. She’s an outrageous woman really.”
“But kind. I set great store by kindness.”
“Well, yes. As long as she doesn’t get stuck into a feud with somebody. She’s generous and you can talk to her about anything. You may get a cockeyed reaction but it’ll be intelligent. I dote on her.”
“Are you like her?”
“1 expect so, but less eccentric in my habits. I’m of a retiring disposition, compared to her, and spend most of my spare time painting, which makes me unsociable. I know I don’t look like it, but I’m a serious painter.”
“Well, of course. Are you very modern? All intellect, paint droppings and rude shapes?”
“Not really. You’ll have to see.”
“By the way, the Cid says Troy would be delighted if we’d call. To show her your work.”
“The Cid?”
“Superintendent Alleyn, C.I.D. Just my girlish fun.”
“I can take it if he can,” Andrew said kindly. “But you know I doubt, really, if I dare show her anything. Suppose she should find it tedious and sterile?”
“She will certainly say so.”
“That’s what I feared. She takes pupils, doesn’t she? Very grand ones with genius dripping out of their beards?”
“That’s right. Would you like her to take you?”
“Lord, Lord!” Andrew said. “What a notion!”
“If it’s not a question in bad taste, will you be able to get the Grantham Gallery, now, as you hoped?”
“I wanted to talk to you about it. I think I might, you know. I don’t imagine P.P. will raise the same objections. I talked to him about it yesterday morning.”
Remembering what Mr. Period had said about these plans, Nicola asked Andrew if he didn’t think there would be some difficulty.
“Oh, I don’t, really. He talked a lot of guff about tradition and so on but I’m sure he’ll be reasonable. He’s different from Hal. He was just being bloody-minded because I wanted to leave the Brigade and because he was bloody-minded anyway, poor old Hal. All the same, I wish I hadn’t parted from him breathing hell-fury. Seeing what’s happened. He wasn’t such a bad old stinker,” Andrew reflected. “Better than Bimbo, anyway. What, by the way, did you think of Bimbo?”
“Well—”
“Come on. Honestly.”
“There wasn’t anything to think. Just a rather negative, fashionable, ambiguous sort of person.”
“I simply can’t imagine what persuaded my Mama to marry him. Well, I suppose I can, really.” Andrew hit his closed fist once upon the driving wheel. “Still, don’t let’s talk about that.”
He drove on for some minutes in silence while Nicola tried to sort out her desperate misgivings. “Andrew,” she said at last, and because he answered “What, dear?” so gently, and with such an old-fashioned air, found herself at a complete disadvantage.
“Look,” she said. “Have you thought — I know it’s fantastic — but have you…?”
“All right,” Andrew said. “I know. Have I thought that Hal’s death is a material advantage to me and that your Cid probably knows it? Yes, I have. Strangely enough, it doesn’t alarm me. Nicola, it’s not fair to wish all this business on you. Here I am, doing nothing but talk about me and setting myself up as an insufferable egoist, no doubt. Am I boring you very much?”
“No,” Nicola said truthfully. “You’re not doing that. You’re talking about yourself, which is the usual thing.”
“My God!” Andrew ejaculated. “How very chastening.”
“This time it’s a bit different.”
“Is it? How much?”
“No,” Nicola said. “Don’t let’s rush our fences. We only met yesterday morning. Everything’s being precipitated like one of those boring chemical experiments. Don’t let’s pay too much attention.”
“Just as you like,” he said huffily. “I was going to ask if you’d dine with me. Is that too precipitate?”
“I expect it is, really, but I’d like to. Thank you, Andrew. I have a motive.”
“And what the hell is that?”
“I did mention it before. I’m going to visit Troy Alleyn this evening, and I wondered if you’d come with me and show her a picture. As I told you, the Cid says she’d be delighted.”
Andrew was silent for a moment and then burst out laughing. “Well, I must say!” he ejaculated. “As one of the suspects in a murder charge — yes, I am, Nicola. You can’t escape it — I’m being invited to pay a social call on the chief cop’s wife. How dotty can you get?”
“Well, why not?”
“Will he be there? No, I suppose not. He’ll be lying flat on his stomach in Green Lane looking for my boot-prints.”
“So it’s a date?”
“It’s a date.”
“Then, shall we collect your pictures? I live quite close to the Alleyns. Could you make do with an omelette in my flat?”
“Do you share it with two other nice girls?”
“No.”
“Then I’d love to.”
Nicola’s flat was a converted studio off the Brompton Road. It was large and airy and extremely uncluttered. The walls were white and the curtains and chairs yellow. A workmanlike desk stood against the north window and a pot of yellow tulips on the table. There was only one picture, hung above the fireplace. Andrew went straight to it.
“Gosh,” he said, “it’s a Troy. And it’s you.”
“It was for my twenty-first birthday, last year. Wasn’t it wonderful of her?”
There was a long silence. “Wonderful,” Andrew said. “Wonderful.” And she left him to look at it while she rang Troy Alleyn and then set to work in her kitchen.
They had cold soup, an omelette, white wine, cheese and salad, and their meal was extremely successful. They both behaved in an exemplary manner, and if their inclination to depart from this standard crackled in the air all round them, they contrived to disregard it. They talked and talked and were happy.
“It’s almost nine o’clock,” Nicola said. “We mustn’t be too late at Troy’s. She’ll be delighted to see you, by the way.”
“Will she?”
“Why did you leave your pictures in the car?”
“I don’t know. Well, yes I do, but it doesn’t matter. Wouldn’t it be nice to stay here?”
“Come on,” Nicola said firmly.
When they had shut the door behind them, Andrew took her hands in his, thanked her for his entertainment and kissed her lightly on the cheek.