when Peter had told her not to nag, that he had other things on his mind that were more important.
Grace had looked at him lying next to her. His face was turned towards her, but was in shadow because of the bedside lamp behind his head. She had turned off her own lamp already, and had
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taken off her reading glasses. Peter’s face was too close to hers, too blurred by the shadows, for her to read his expression. His eyes were open, hut she could sense that his face was closed. She touched his arm, and she could feel that his muscles were tense.
‘What’s the matter?’ she said.
‘Nothing.’
‘There’s something wrong.’
‘Nothing at all. What do you mean?’
‘Tell me, Peter.’
‘Leave me alone — I’m tired.’
He rolled over on to his back, thumping his pillow with the back of his head as if to beat it into submission. Now Grace could make out his profile, outlined by a halo of light from the bedside lamp. His expression was set into a determined scowl. It was the expression that reminded her most of his father, Zygmunt, the one that made her think of the old man as a warrior still. The same determination was there in Peter’s face. And the implacable hatred, too.
‘The Canadian woman coming here has upset you, hasn’t it?’ said Grace.
‘She’s not important.’
‘She didn’t want to go away, did she?’
‘I think I made it plain,’ said Peter.
‘It was strange, though, about the policeman. I thought that was strange, didn’t you?’
Peter didn’t reply. Watching him, Grace felt a sudden surge of irritation.
‘Why don’t you talk to me?’ she said.
He sighed. ‘Yes, it was strange. I thought it was strange she had already met him, strange that he knew what she’d come for. It was very strange. But it was you that invited him into our house in the Hrst place.’
‘Oh, it’s my fault, is it?’
‘No, I didn’t mean that.’
‘Is that what it is? You’re sulking because you blame me.’
‘Not at all.”
‘But all I did was to ring the police because of the description they gave of the man who died.’
29S
‘I know. That’s all you did/
j
Now it was Grace s turn to shift on to her hack. She stared at the bedroom ceiling, not really seeing it at all, just more shadows. She was silent, waiting for Peter to speak, wondering i( he would hothcr, willing him to feel her hurt.
‘You did it hecause of Andrew/ he said.
Grace was surprised to rind tears suddenly leaking down her face and on to her pillow. She fumbled for a tissue in the pocket of her nightdress.
‘I couldn’t hear to think of him lying dead somewhere,’ she said.
‘Who? Andrew? Or some strange man you’ve never seen hefore in your life?’
‘You don’t understand.’
‘Andrew has gone hack to London. You have to accept that,’ said Peter.
‘How can I, until 1 hear from him? Why isn’t he answering his phone? Why hasn’t he hccn in touch to tell us where he is?’
‘All right. But what did you think you were achieving hy phoning the police and telling them you recognized the man they found on the Snake Pass? That was stupid. More than stupid. You hrought the police here, as well as that bloody woman.’
‘Don’t swear at me.’
‘Well, it n^j hloody stupid. That was the last thing we needed. What do you think it w ould have done to Dad it the policeman had insisted on seeing him? I can’t believe you didn’t think about that. But, no, you were only thinking of yourself. Somehow you had to feed your ohscssion. It’s always been Andrew, Andrew, Andrew - it’s turning your mind. Can t you see that?
Grace held the tissue to her face. She tried to control a small, spasmodic sob that rose in her throat, not wanting to show Peter her weakness.
‘I want to protect Zygmunt as much as you do,’ she said.
‘You have a funny way of showing it.’
‘But it’s true I do.’
“I can’t stand this, I really can’t.’ He turned over on to his other side, crushing his pillow and dragging the bedclothes almost away from her.
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‘Don’t turn away from me, please/ said Grace.
