"Oh, no.’ It was nice to have him concerned about her. ‘Did you sleep well, Julian?’ That came out a little shyly.
‘Extraordinarily well, thank you.’ He spoke rather as though the fact surprised him. ‘And you?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Alison said quickly, not liking to think of how she had lain awake, and what had happened.
‘I thought so. You were already asleep when I came up, weren’t you?’
She didn’t say anything for a moment, and he said again, ‘Weren’t you?’
‘N-not quite.’
‘Not?’ He stopped, and turned her gently towards him. Alison blushed then, and at that he laughed softly.
‘Little Alison, I think you are the kindest and most tactful person I know.’ And he bent his head and kissed her with extraordinary sweetness.
‘Julian!’ It was so entirely unexpected that she couldn’t even kiss him back again, and, to her dismay, she felt the tears come into her eyes.
‘Why, my dear, what is it?’ he was slightly amused still, she knew, but there was a sort of half-startled tenderness too.
‘Nothing,’ she managed to get out.
‘But there is something. What is it? Don’t you like me to kiss you?’
‘Oh, yes. It’s only-’ Her voice dropped suddenly to a whisper. ‘It-it’s the first time you’ve ever done it, and- and-’ Her voice quivered into silence.
He remained perfectly still while she was speaking. Then he quietly finished her sentence for her.
‘-and with you it’s an actual need to have someone kind and affectionate, even if it’s only your official husband. Is that it?’
‘S-something like that,’ stammered Alison, tightening her hand nervously on his.
The next moment she was drawn right into his arms, and he was kissing her, first on her cheeks and then on her mouth.
‘Oh, Julian,’ she said again, and she gave him a long, sweet kiss in answer.
‘Does the bruise hurt less now?’ he asked softly.
‘Yes, thank you,’ whispered Alison very shyly.
He didn’t say any more after that, and presently they went back to the house for breakfast.
Alison enjoyed her breakfast. She enjoyed everything to do with this cold, bright November morning. It was a strange world, an exciting world-almost a beautiful world, even if she were on her honeymoon with a man who wanted another girl.
After breakfast, it seemed that fresh supplies of petrol had arrived, and they were free to go on their way.
‘I’m quite sorry to leave here,’ Alison said as she watched Julian put their cases into the car once more. She felt absurdly that no place would ever be so dear or exciting again.
Julian smiled and said, ‘Yes. It hasn’t been bad, after all.’ But he didn’t, of course, suggest anything so silly as their staying.
They drove nearly all day, and at night they stopped at one of the big luxury resorts on the Devonshire coast.
Julian seemed very anxious that she should have everything possible to make up for the spartan-like simplicity of the first day of their honeymoon; and, without consulting her, he engaged a spacious luxury suite at the best hotel.
Alison made no comment about it, but as she lay awake in her big, well-sprung bed that night, she thought wistfully of the cold, bare room she had shared with him the night before. And she thought she would willingly have exchanged the luxury here for the quiet, even sound of Julian’s breathing-even if he were dreaming of Rosalie.
‘I put through a call to Simon last night,’ Julian told her at breakfast next morning. ‘He sent you his love.’
‘Did he?’ Alison knew it was all quite lightly meant, and that Julian himself attached no significance to it, but, for some reason, it displeased her.
‘He had heard from Buenos Aires.’ Julian spoke without much expression.
‘Oh, yes?’ Her own small annoyance was forgotten in concern for him.
‘There doesn’t seem to be any chance of our going out there, Alison,’ he said with rather elaborate indifference.
‘Oh, Julian, I’m so sorry.’
‘Never mind.’ He set his mouth. ‘It’s no good kicking against the inevitable.’ But she saw that his eyes looked tired, and she guessed he had lain awake last night, thinking -of what?
Of Rosalie, she supposed. Waking or sleeping, he thought of Rosalie. And now they were to live in the same place, to meet her everywhere.
Alison felt suddenly that it wasn’t much good fighting any more. Fate or chance, or whatever it was, had her beaten.
They didn’t stay long in any one place, usually arriving late in the evening and leaving in good time the next morning. And everywhere Julian was the perfection of kindness and courtesy to her.
But it was the same kindness and courtesy he might have used towards his mother or a younger sister-anyone, in fact, for whom he felt a dutiful responsibility. There was none of the tender, passionate attention, the eager interest, that a man would give to the woman he loved.
On the last day of their short holiday he said to her:
‘We shall have to start house-hunting as soon as we get back, Alison. I’m afraid my bachelor flat will be very cramped quarters for us, but perhaps we can manage for a week or two. You can have my room, of course.’
‘Thank you,’ Alison said, but, as a matter of fact, she was bitterly hurt at his way of putting it.
Julian’s flat was small, but unexpectedly charming and luxurious. It was a service flat, so that there was nothing whatever for Alison to do. And, as she watched him on the first evening, immersed in his accumulation of correspondence, she had the odd feeling again that she had no place at all in his life. He seemed absolutely detached. The picture was complete without her.
She drew a quiet sigh, and then, after a moment longer, she plucked up courage to break the silence.
‘Julian.’
‘Um?’
‘We won’t have a service flat for our actual home, will we?’
‘No? Why not?’ He still spoke absently, his attention half on his correspondence.
‘Well, there’s nothing for me to do.’
He looked up then, rather amused.
‘What’s the matter? Do you feel it your duty to turn yourself into a domestic slave?’
‘No. Only-I want to do some things.’
‘What things?’ he said obtusely.
‘Things for-for you.’ Her voice quivered.
‘Alison-’ He got up suddenly and came over and picked her right up in his arms. ‘What absurd, sweet things you say to me. I never met anyone before who wanted to "do things" for me.’
‘Didn’t you?’ she whispered, and for a moment she felt she had a place in his life.
He carried her back to where he had been sitting and drew her down on to his knee.
‘You can open some of my letters for me, if you like.’
It was ridiculous, of course, and made her feel more like a child than ever, but somehow it was very sweet, too.
‘He’ll give me a blue pencil to play with in a minute,’ she thought.
And then she felt him put his cheek down against the top of her head, and she didn’t much care what he did after that.
‘Here’s an invitation from the Fortescues to go to a dance of theirs next Thursday,’ she said presently. ‘Do you want to go?’
‘Not much.’
‘No? It’s evidently going to be a big affair. I should dunk it might be rather nice.’
‘Might it?’
She looked up. ‘Why don’t you want to go, Julian?’
‘Don’t you know?’ He was smiling faintly, but he continued to stare absently at the letter in his hand.
And then she remembered. The Fortescues were great friends of Rosalie’s. She was bound to be there.
‘I’m sorry,’ Alison whispered, and reached up to kiss his cheek softly.
He turned his head then and gave her a quick, hard kiss on her mouth.
He didn’t say a word, but she had the exquisite conviction that, in some queer way, they were fighting danger together.