‘It’s been so beautiful,’ she began, and then she suddenly found great difficulty in going on. ‘I wish I could tell you-’ She bit her lip. Then she added in a low voice, ‘You do understand, don’t you?’
‘My dear child’-he took her hand kindly-’you really mustn’t make so much of it. I too have to thank you for a delightful day.’
Alison looked up and smiled then, her composure quite restored.
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it too.’
He stood watching her as she ran up the steps. Then, as she turned, with her key in the door, he just raised his hand in farewell, and got into the car and drove away.
‘It’s over,’ thought Alison, and went into the house.
To her surprise, her aunt called to her from the dining-room.
‘Is that you, Alison?’
‘Yes, Aunt Lydia.’ Alison went reluctantly towards the room. Neither her aunt nor Rosalie had been expected back until the next day.
‘Where have you been, my dear?’ They both looked up with some curiosity as Alison came in.
And all at once Alison felt very much afraid of the real answer to that question. But it would be absurd, of course, to make any mystery about it. So she said, as naturally as possible, ‘I’ve been out driving with Julian.’
‘With whom?
‘With Mr. Tyndrum;’ Alison corrected herself nervously under her aunt’s amazed scrutiny.
‘Really, Alison?’ Aunt Lydia ’s manner was very cool and collected now. ‘How did that come about?’
‘It was quite by chance, Aunt Lydia.’ She wished it didn’t sound so absurdly like justifying herself. ‘He rang up yesterday because he had left his cigarette-case here. Then, when he found I was on my own and not doing anything today, he asked me if I’d like to go driving. I suppose he was just-just at a loose end.’
‘I suppose he was,’ said Rosalie, and that was her sole contribution to the conversation.
‘Well, you’d better have something to eat now,’ her aunt observed.
So Alison had a very uncomfortable and rather silent supper, and thought how different everything tasted from the other meals she had had that day.
She wanted to say rudely to Rosalie, ‘You needn’t go on looking like an offended sphinx. He spent a good deal of the time telling me how much he loved you.’
But she couldn’t do that, so instead she went to bed.
The next day, no reference whatever was made to Alison’s excursion, and it looked as though even her aunt and Rosalie had decided it was harmless.
Aunt Lydia kept her running about on innumerable errands during the morning and half the afternoon. But at last even she was satisfied, and Alison had a little time to herself.
She was guiltily conscious of owing Audrey a letter. The twins were due home from school the following week, and she supposed she ought to make sure that the child had the last of her weekly letters.
Fetching her writing-case and a fountain-pen, Alison went into the library. For a moment she stood quite still, looking round and reconstructing the scene when Julian had come to tea.
Only a couple of days ago. It didn’t seem possible. The significance of the last two days was worth all the long pointless weeks she had spent in this house while nothing was happening.
‘Alison!’
That was Aunt Lydia. An angry impatience took hold of Alison. She would not always be at her aunt’s beck and call. She wanted a little time to herself-just a little time to sit and think over the lovely hours of yesterday.
She slipped behind a heavy curtain. Curled up in the corner of the window-seat there, she would be fairly safe.
‘And even if she looks in here, I shan’t take any notice,’ Alison thought rebelliously.
But she heard no more, so probably Aunt Lydia had decided she was out.
Alison opened her writing-case and dutifully began:
‘Dear Audrey,-You will hardly know Lucifer when you see him next week. He is growing into a splendid cat-’
She paused and looked dreamily away out of the window, trying idly to recall anything about Lucifer’s activities that week which seemed worthy of chronicle. In Audrey’s estimation he still ranked first among topics of interest.
This time yesterday they had just come back from their walk, and that absurd woman was saying how grand the woods were for sweethearting.
How surprised she would be if Julian took Rosalie there one day. She’d wonder which of them really was the sweetheart.
But he couldn’t take Rosalie there. He couldn’t.
How lovely the fields had looked as they drove homeward. She could see them now, slipping past in the mellow evening light, as they drove on-and on-and on-
Gradually her fair head drooped against the shutter. Her writing-case slipped from her knee on to the window-seat.
It was so quiet there. Only the sound of Alison’s own soft, even breathing.
She sank deeper and deeper through layers of sleep, lost entirely for a while to the world of problems and perplexities.
And then, from a long way off, something seemed to break the tranquillity, something which made her stir uneasily and catch her breath in a troubled little sigh.
She opened her eyes, to find the light had changed a good deal. She must have slept a long time, hidden here behind the curtain. The next moment she realised that she was no longer alone. There were two people in the library, beyond the sheltering curtain. Two people talking in angry voices.
‘But it’s utterly unreasonable of you, my dear-’
That was Julian’s voice, she realised with a start, And then Rosalie’s cut across it, cold and incisive.
‘It is not unreasonable. You raise heaven knows what sort of a row if I look at another man, and then, the first moment I’m out of the way, you hawk some cheap little piece round the country for the whole day.’
Alison pressed back against the shutter, sick with terror and dismay. There was no possible escape, and yet she couldn’t, couldn’t go on listening to this scene.
‘There’s not the slightest need to abuse Alison. She’s not cheap, and I don’t know what on earth you have against her.’
‘Have I to listen to another recital of Alison’s virtues? If you think so much of her, hadn’t you better-’
‘Damn it all, Rosalie!’ He evidently lost his temper completely at that point. ‘I’ve told you again and again- the girl’s nothing whatever to me. I don’t care two pins about her. She’s a nice child, of course, but just a little relation of yours. I should think no more of taking her out motoring than I should of taking Audrey to the Zoo.’
There was a faint cracking sound as Alison slowly crushed in the cap of her fountain-pen, which she had quite unknowingly picked up.
She was only hearing what she already knew, of course, but to have it put into words, driven home with the force of Julian’s angry indifference-that was something rather different.
If only she had made her presence known before they had got as far as this! It was unspeakable of her to be listening to anything so entirely personal. Yet to interrupt now would be worst of all.
To add to her misery, she was terribly cramped. Very cautiously she moved her stiff, aching knee. One inch. Two inches. And then her forgotten writing-case slid to the ground with a loud thump.
There were two startled exclamations, a moment of stupefied silence, and then Alison did the only thing left to do-she pushed aside the curtain and came out into the open.
Julian stared at her, something like dislike mingling with his astonishment. Rosalie said calmly, ‘Next time you are cataloguing Alison’s virtues, don’t forget to mention eavesdropping.’
‘What on earth do you think you’re doing, Alison?’ Julian’s voice was harsh with annoyance.
‘I’m sorry-I fell asleep there-behind the curtain.’
Rosalie laughed and made an expressive little grimace.
‘It’s quite true.’ Alison spoke doggedly. ‘I didn’t wake up until you-you’d said quite a lot.’