He made an impatient movement.
‘You can’t dismiss it like that. This can’t be your last word about it.’
‘No?’ She turned suddenly and looked him full in the eyes. ‘I’ve nothing else to say to you, Simon, except to repeat your own excellent advice. There is such a thing as bowing to the inevitable. I suggest you apply that to yourself.’
He threw back his head with an angry, defiant laugh.
‘I’ve never even recognised the inevitable yet, much less bowed to it,’ he told her. ‘I’ll wait. I can afford to, though God knows I hate doing it. And one day, quite soon, you’ll find that it is best for all of us-including Julian-that you should listen to me again.’
It was the last sentence which frightened her more than anything that had gone before. For it was Julian’s happiness that she had vowed to herself to protect. And now there was no knowing what sacrifice that promise might involve.
Her heart was very heavy as she turned away to the ballroom once more.
She saw Julian almost as soon as she came in. He was standing talking to an elderly man, and Rosalie was dancing again, with someone Alison did not know.
It touched her and comforted her slightly that Julian noticed her at once, made some excuse, and came over to claim her from Simon.
‘You look pale, Alison,’ he said, the moment they were alone together. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Oh, yes, thank you.’ She was a little surprised at his anxiety, until she remembered that he was probably reproaching himself for having vented his irritation on her.
She wanted to tell him that it was all right-that he needn’t bother about it: but, remembering the previous snub when she had read his thoughts too nearly, she was afraid to say anything.
When at last it was time to go, she could scarcely hide her relief. Perhaps Julian. noticed something of it because he glanced at her curiously, and then maintained a tactful silence on the way home.
‘Did you enjoy yourself?’ he asked, as they came into the white-panelled hall of the flat.
‘Yes, thank you,’ Alison said dutifully, but suddenly she shivered, quite irrepressibly, as she remembered that frightening scene with Simon.
‘What’s the matter?’ Julian said quickly.
‘Nothing.’
‘But you shivered just now. Why?’
‘I-I’m a bit cold, that’s all,’ she assured him hastily.
‘Cold? You’d better go straight to bed, Alison, and I’ll bring you a hot drink,’ he said.
‘Oh, no-really you needn’t. I’ll be all right,’ She spoke eagerly, but he seemed unimpressed.
‘Yes-I’d rather. Hurry up, and I’ll go and heat some milk.’
She thought of telling him that she didn’t like milk, anyway, but it seemed a little ungracious when he was obviously so anxious to do something for her. She would have to drink it somehow.
By the time he knocked at the door, she was in bed.
‘Come in,’ She sat up quickly, and rumpled up her hair with a nervous hand.
Julian came in. He was in his dressing-gown, and was carrying her glass of milk very carefully.
‘Thank you.’ Alison smiled as she took it, and thought absurdly that she loved him best of all like this-not quite so self-possessed as usual, and with an odd suggestion of anxiety to please.
He sat down on the side of the bed and watched her drink the milk-which she did with the best grace she could muster.
When she had finished, he took the glass and put it on a side-table. ‘Feeling better now?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ Alison hugged her knees and smiled at him suddenly. ‘Are you?’
He looked astonished for a moment. Then, without any warning, he leant forward and put his head against her.
‘I’m sorry I vented my beastly temper on you,’ he said in a remorseful whisper.
‘Why, Julian dear-’ Alison was touched and surprised beyond measure. She thought he was oddly like a child who couldn’t bear to go to bed without being forgiven. ‘It doesn’t matter a bit,’ she told him, and timidly stroked his hair.
‘Oh, yes, it does. You’re such a good little thing. It was disgusting of me to be cross with you, when you were only trying to do your best in a miserable situation.’
Alison laughed gently.
‘Don’t think about it any more.’ She lay back and, putting her arm round him, drew him close. ‘It must have been hateful for you. I think you may be allowed a few frayed nerves, in the circumstances.’
Julian smiled too at that, and moved his head contentedly against her.
‘It’s nice like this.’
‘Is it?’
‘Um.’
Alison hoped he wouldn’t notice how her heart was beating. But he seemed too intent on something else.
‘I don’t know how you contrive to be so marvellously soothing, Alison, at your age. You have all the calm of a much older person, without any air of criticism.’
‘Have I?’ Alison didn’t know quite whether to feel flattered or put out at this.
‘Yes. That’s why I can tell you things I couldn’t dream of telling anyone else. It’s your wonderful detachment.’
‘Oh, is it?’ Alison said helplessly, quite unable to hide her astonishment.
‘Yes, of course.’ He frowned a little, but it was only a thoughtful frown, she could see. I mean-when I tell you about Rosalie and-how I feel. It’s really rather an extraordinary thing to be able to talk about it to another girl- especially a girl you’ve married, even if it’s only in the unreal sense that we’re married.’
Alison couldn’t say anything at all. She could only think bewilderedly, ‘Does he really imagine I feel "detached" about him and Rosalie? Really, men are stupid!’ She rather wanted to be angry with him, but when she glanced down at his tranquil face as he lay against her, she thought with sudden tenderness instead; ‘I don’t really mind what he says, if he’ll only look like that.’
He was silent for a few minutes, and then he roused himself abruptly.
‘I must go. It’s very late and you ought to be asleep.’
She moved her arm at once and then-perhaps because some of the things that Simon had said had sunk deep into her pride and love-she spoke on an incredible impulse.
‘If you’d rather sleep here than in your dressing room, you can, you know.’
She didn’t look at Julian as she spoke. At the back of her mind, she wondered a little grimly whether he would consider that she was maintaining her ‘wonderful detachment.’
From the half-minute of silence she knew how taken aback he was.
Then he took her lightly by her chin. There was a rather odd expression in his eyes, which she couldn’t in the least understand.
‘Thank you, darling,’ he said slowly, ‘but I shall be quite all right in my dressing-room. Good night, bless you.’ And he kissed her on her lips.
Then he got up abruptly and went out of the room without even a backward glance, leaving Alison to make what she could both of the kiss and of the refusal to stay.
A week later they moved into their new home, and Alison seriously took up the responsibilities of being a rich man’s wife.
Perhaps he thought she was a little too serious about it all, because when they had been round the place on a tour of inspection the first evening, he said a trifle anxiously:
‘You do like it, don’t you, Alison?’
‘Yes, of course.’ She smiled at him. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Oh-nothing. Only you looked so very solemn.’
‘I suppose I’m feeling a bit awed,’ Alison said slowly.
‘Good heavens. Whatever for?’
She slipped her arm into his at that and gave it a half-nervous, half-affectionate squeeze.
‘I’ve never had any place to call my own before, you know,’ she explained. ‘At least, nothing but my bedroom at school and that wasn’t really mine. It seems so strange to think that all this is-is half mine.’