Could they have done Muriel some damage? If they could hit her in the back and push her out of the house, there was no saying what they might have planned. Surely they had not come for the child already. She thought bitterly, they have only to wait.
Turning away, she shambled to the front of the house again. No doubt Muriel had simply drawn the curtains and fallen asleep. She was prone to do that. Florence Sidney’s brother was driving past. He waved to her. She raised a hand, the smile painful on her face.
Colin had not seen Isabel for a week. When he telephoned her home, her father answered.
“Are you one of Bella’s friends?” he asked.
He said that she was in bed with ’flu. Colin saw his chance to break the deadlock.
“May I call?” he asked. “To cheer her up?”
“Oh, no,” Mr. Field said. “I believe it could be infectious, you know. No, I don’t think that would be advisable, not at all.”
A few days later Colin spoke to her. He had to leave the house to make these calls. She sounded strained and weak; her throat was still sore, she explained.
“But I can meet you if you can pick me up. My car—no, you didn’t know, did you? I had a bit of an accident, that day it was foggy. Somebody ran into the back of me. I haven’t collected it from the garage yet.”
“You were all right, weren’t you?”
“Yes, fine, it was only a brush, but that’s the day I started this cold.”
“Listen, Isabel, I can’t meet you. I could maybe get over during the day but I can’t take you out.”
“Oh—why is that?” Her voice cracked.
“Because it’s the holidays. Can’t you see? Didn’t you think about it? I haven’t got any excuses.”
“You could have warned me.”
“I thought you would realise. I’m so sorry. I do want to see you very much. The only thing I could do would be to come during the day.”
“No, Colin, you’re not to come here.”
“Well, that’s that then. Can I phone you? That’s all right, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but look, when will I see you?”
“When term starts.”
“But I can’t go through to January without seeing you.”
“You’ll have to. You must.”
“When will it be?”
“January twelfth, but it will take me a few days—”
She began to cry. “Listen, Colin, haven’t you got any friends you could pretend to go and see? Anybody you usually see at Christmas?”
“I can’t think of anyone. I have no friends of my own, you see, I have only places where Sylvia goes with me.”
“But there must be something you do on your own.”
“Only evening classes. But they’re over now.”
“Yes. Well…Colin, please.”
“Look, I’ll try, I’ll really try, but I can’t think how I’m going to manage it.”
“Well, try, see if you can—I really want to see you. We’re going to have to discuss things, we’ll have to decide.”
For the first time he heard the note of pressure in her voice. It was a tone he had heard before. Where? He thought with surprise, in my own mouth.
“Yes, we must. Though I don’t know…I honestly don’t know what we’re going to do. Look, Isabel, I’ll have to go, the children are waiting for me.”
“You’ve got them with you?”
“Yes, they’re outside the phone box. I brought them out to buy them some sweets. I’ll have to go.”
She laughed shakily. “What we are reduced to,” she said. “Goodbye.”
He heard the line buzz. She’s upset, he thought. It’s her illness. ’Flu leaves you like that. He stepped out of the kiosk and took a gulp of air. He felt desperately harassed.
“Who were you phoning, Dad?” Alistair asked. His mouth was sticky with sweets.
“Just a man.”
“What was his name, Dad?”
“Frank.”
“That’s not a name.”
