She said something sleepily about being able to walk, but he didn’t seem to hear. Anyway, he took no notice, but carried her right into her bedroom.
‘You’d better go straight to bed, Alison.’
‘Yes,’ she. said, rubbing her eyes rather childishly.
‘Is there anything you want, or will you be quite all right now?’ He spoke very gently.
‘I don’t want anything. I’m all right, thank you. I just-’ just want to go to bed.’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll leave word for you not to be woken in the morning. You’ll need to sleep on.’
She wanted to say pettishly, ‘I’m not ill.’ It hurt to have him so solicitous about her, for it implied that he felt guilty -about Rosalie.’Good night.’ he said.
‘Good night. Julian.’ She forgot about Rosalie suddenly, and wished passionately that he would kiss her good night, He had done so quite. often lately, and perhaps-
But he didn’t, of course. She supposed he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Anyway, it would not have meant anything-any more than the other times had meant anything, she realised now.
She got to bed, weary beyond description. At first she cried a little, partly because it was such a relief to be alone, and partly because she was so frightened of the future. Then she. felt too tired even to cry, and, with the tears still on her cheeks, she sank into a heavy and dreamless sleep.
When she woke again she stared incredulously at the little clock on her table. It said nearly half-past twelve, and from the depth of the light filtering through the curtains she knew it must be somewhere near that time.
Leaning upon her elbow, she rang the bell.
‘Is that really the time, Jenny?’ she said to the maid who came in.
‘Yes, madam.’
‘Goodness, how awful,’ Alison said. But Jenny smiled indulgently. She liked her young mistress. and didn’t see why she shouldn’t stay in bed all day if she wanted to.
‘Mr. Tyndrum said perhaps you would like your lunch in your room, madam.’
Alison considered that.
‘Well-yes, Jenny, I think perhaps I would,’ she said.
and leant back against the pillows again with a slight sigh. She felt a little bit weak and funny, somehow-rather as she had once when she had been convalescing after flu.
It was stupid, of course, because she had never felt better in her life until yesterday afternoon.
When Jenny had gone, she rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. It made her feel sick even now to think of yesterday afternoon, and what had happened then. The scene with Simon afterwards was beginning to look almost insignificant in comparison. After all, she had come quite safely out of that, whereas the reckoning over Rosalie still remained.
Ordinarily, she was more inclined to face things than to avoid them, but she was thankful just now of even an hour or two’s reprieve from the impending scene with Julian.
‘There’s one thing-I must keep calm,’ she told herself. ‘Otherwise I shall go and cry, and then Julian just might guess-and then I’d die.’
When her lunch came she didn’t feel very much like eating it, but she did her best, and then lay there telling herself she must get up.
But, instead, she fell asleep again-to wake with a fearful start, late in the afternoon.
Her heart felt like lead, and she was breathing in quick shallow little breaths. It was a hideous feeling-like waking at school on the morning of a particularly awful exam, only ten times worse.
It was no good shirking things any longer, however, so she got up, thinking how strange it seemed to be bathing and dressing at this hour in the afternoon.
She put on a little brown velvet suit with a pale honey-coloured blouse that Julian had once admired. She always had a special affection for the clothes he liked, though, of course, there wasn’t much sense in thinking about that sort of thing just now.
Julian was not in the lounge when she looked in, so she went along to his study, and there he was, sitting at his desk. He appeared to be writing absorbedly, but she had the quite preposterous impression that until her knock sounded he had been sitting with his head in his hands.
He got up at once, however, and rather anxiously made her come and sit down in a comfortable chair.
‘Do you feel better, Alison? I was getting quite worried about you.’
‘Oh, yes, I’m all right now, thank you.’ She smiled bravely. ‘I’m ashamed to have slept so long.’
‘I expect it was what you needed,’ he said kindly, and then there was an awkward silence.
She glanced at him and saw that, if she had slept well, he had not. There was an air of strain about him that went to her heart.
‘We have a lot-to talk about, Julian,’ she said a little diffidently.
‘Yes, my dear, we have a lot to talk about’
And then suddenly she wanted nothing in the world so much as to reassure him. She put out her hand and took his gently as he stood beside her chair.
‘Julian dear, I want you to know-I don’t blame you in the least’
His face changed indescribably, and she saw he was intensely moved. She supposed it was a fearful relief to him that she should have guessed so much and that few explanations were necessary.
‘My darling child, how dear and generous of you,’ he exclaimed in a low voice. ‘But I blame myself-terribly.’
‘Please don’t,’ Alison said sadly. ‘It was our crazy marriage that was to blame. I remember., the very first moment I suggested it, you told me it would be a ridiculous and unnatural position. You were quite right, of course. Something like this was bound to happen.’
Julian bit his lip, and, even in the firelight, she could see how pale he was.
‘Yes," he admitted, ‘something like this was bound to happen. The only thing that lessens my self-reproach is that the marriage can be cancelled without much fuss. You will be able to divorce me quite quietly.’
‘Of course,’ Alison began. And then the rest stuck in her throat because it hurt unbelievably that he should expect without question that she would let him go at once.
‘But I can’t forget that you must have suffered so much and so unnecessarily, you poor child,’ he said, with an impatient sigh.
‘Oh-oh, no,’ Alison assured him, because, for the sake of her pride, she felt she must say something.
‘Why were you afraid to tell me, Alison? Was it that I had seemed so blind and stupid that you thought I wouldn’t understand?’
‘What-on earth do you mean?’ Alison flushed scarlet, wondering in a moment of furious, shocked humiliation if he were going to sentimentalise about her love for him just as he proposed to leave her.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said gently. ‘I’m not trying to force your confidence. What really happened last night is your affair, not mine. But’-he touched her hair softly-’did you really suppose, my child, that you had to go away with him before I would understand?’
Alison felt her throat go dry.
‘What-what are we talking about?’ she said bewilderedly.
It was his turn to look taken aback, and a little anxious too.
‘Why, about you-you and Simon, of course. What is it, Alison? You’re not feeling faint or something, are you?’
She stared at him.
‘Are you-suggesting-that Simon and I-?’
‘Don’t, Alison,’ he said sharply. ‘Don’t you understand that there’s no need to pretend any more? It’s I myself who should be blamed, for leaving you so much alone and unloved-for being so blind and uncaring. It was not until we were at the cottage that week-end that I realised you loved him-and even then I thought it might be a passing infatuation; you seemed so afraid of it yourself.’
‘Did I?’ she said stupidly. ‘Whatever did I do that made you think that?’
‘Your coming along to me that night, you poor baby, as though you were running away from your own self, and then the next morning, when you were so upset after you had been talking to him-and you begged me to take you home, but would give me no explanation. It was pitifully clear.’