it. There were two enclosures. The first read as follows: Dear Madam, in view of your emotional feelings about Mr John Ducane I feel sure it would be of interest to you to see the enclosed. Yours faithfully, A Well Wisher The second enclosure was an envelope addressed to Ducane, with a letter inside it. Kate pulled out the letter. My dearest, my dearest, my John, this is just my usual daily missive to tell you what you know, that I love you to distraction. You were so infinitely sweet to me yesterday after I had been so awful, and you know how unutterably grateful I am that you stayed. I lay there on the bed afterwards for an hour and cried – with gratitude. Are we not somehow compelled by love? I shall not let one day pass without giving you the assurance of mine. Surely there is a future for us together. I am yours yours yours Jessica Kate looked at the date on the letter. She felt sick, stricken, as if some heavy black thing had been rammed into her stomach. She clutched the back of the seat, turned as if to sit down, and then moved a little away and sat down on the grass, covering her face. 'Well?' said Ducane after a while. Kate found a rather shaky voice. 'I think I see now what you mean by a sense of datum.' 'I'm sorry,' said Ducane. He sounded quite calm now, only rather weary. 'There's not much I can say. You were sure it couldn't damage things and I can only hope you were right.' 'But you said it belonged to the past ' 'So it does. I'm not having a love affair with this girl, though the letter makes it sound as if I am. I ceased being her T-NATG-L 273 lover two years ago, and was unwise enough to go on seeing her.' Kate said in a forced voice, 'But of course you can see whortr you like, do what you like. You know I don't tie you in any way. How could I? I'm just a bit surprised that you sort of misled me ' 'Lied to you. Yes.' Ducane got up. He said, 'I think I'd better go now. You'll just have to digest it, Kate, if you can. I've acted wrongly and I have in a way deceived you. I mean, I implied I had no entanglements and this certainly looks like one. I'm sorry.' 'You're not going back to London?' 'No, I don't think so.' 'Oh John, what's happening?' 'Nothing, I daresay.' 'Won't you – at least – explain?' 'I'm sick of explaining, Kate. I'm sick of myself.' He went quickly away through the gap in the spiraea hedge. On her knees Kate slowly gathered up the scattered letters and put them back in the Spanish basket. Tears dropped off her sun-warmed cheeks on to the dry hay. The bird in the wood cried out, hesitant and hollow, cu- cuckoo, cu-cuckoo. 'There's going to be a Happening,' Pierce announced to anyone who was listening. Saturday lunch was over. Ducane and Mary and Theo still sat at the table smoking cigarettes. Kate and Octavian had retired to the sofa and were talking in low voices. Paula and the twins had gone out on to the lawn where the twins were now playing Badgerstown. Barbara was sitting on the window seat reading Country Life. Pierce was standing in a poised ballet dancer's attitude near the kitchen door. 'What sort of happening, dear?' asked Mary. 'Something violent, something awful.' Barbara continued to be absorbed in her article. 'You've already done something violent, something awful.' said Ducane. 'I think you should be content with your career of crime.' 'Violent to yourself, or to someone else?' Theo asked, interested. 'Wait and see.' 'Oh you are boring,' said Barbara. She threw the magazine down and went quickly out on to the front lawn. A moment or two later she was laughing loudly with the twins. Pierce sat down on the window seat and started looking hard into the copy of Country Life. He was flushed and looked as if he might burst into tears. The three at the table began to talk promptly about something else. After a minute Mary got up and said something inaudible to Pierce who shook his head. She went on into the kitchen. Ducane stubbed out his cigarette and followed her. He was unutterably oppressed by the confederate presence of Kate and Octavian. 'Can I help you at all, Mary? You're not going to wash up, are you?' 'No. Casie will do it. She's just gone to the kitchen garden to see if there are any artichokes for tonight. They're so early this year. I'm taking some raspberries up to Willy.' 'May I come?' 'Yes, of course.' She doesn't want me, he thought. Well, I'll just go as far as the cottage. Where can I put myself now? The dark shut-in velvety smell of the raspberries hung over the kitchen table. Mary put a white cloth over the basket, and they went out of the back door and began to walk up the pebble path beside the herbaceous border. It was very hot. Big orange furry bees were clambering laboriously into the antirrhinums. A little flock of goldfinches which had been searching for seeds along the foot of the brick wall took refuge among the broad pale leaves of the catalpa tree. 'Look at those thistles! It's easy to see the gardener's on holiday. I really must do some weeding. Casie hates it.' 'I'll do some weeding.' 'Don't be silly, John. You're on holiday down here. Kate would faint if she saw you weeding. Aren't you awfully hot in that shirt?' 'No, well, I rather like to be in a bath of perspiration.' 'I wish you'd talk to Pierce.' 'You mean –?' 'Tell him to grit his teeth a little about Barb. He will go on annoying her and annoying all of us. I know it's awful, but he must just face it. I keep trying to persuade him to go and stay with the Pember-Smiths. They even have a yachtl' 'If you can't persuade him how can I?' 'I've got no authority. You have. You could speak to him sternly. Ever since you hit him he's devoted to you! I told you he would be.' 'Well, I'll have a try.' 'Bless you. And I do wish you'd have a serious talk with Paula too. She's awfully upset about something, and she won't tell me what, though I've positively asked her. She'd tell you. She's terribly fond of you and you've got authority with her too, well you have with all of us. Just corner her and ask her firmly what it's all about.' 'I'm very fond of her,' said Ducane. 'I suppose I – ' 'Good. And don't take no for an answer. You're marvellous, John. I rely on you absolutely. I don't know what we'd do without you.' 'Oh Christ,' said Ducane. The effect of Jessica's letter had been to draw Kate and Octavian together in a new way, a way new at least to Ducane. He had never felt sexual jealousy of Octavian before. He felt it now. He had no doubt that his faithlessness had been revealed and discussed. Of course Octavian said nothing. He went about the house smiling inscrutably and looking more than ever like a fat golden Buddha. Kate had avoided seeing Ducane alone. He had the impression that she was completely bewildered about her own feelings. Possibly she would have welcomed an effort, a desperate effort, on Ducane's part to explain, to excuse himself, to wrap up in a web of talk and emotion that so disastrous sense datum. But Ducane, who could not bring himself to return to London, could not bring himself to talk to Kate
