thoughts.
«Oh please don't go.»
«Is it too early for a drink?»
«You are not going to take over my sister. I will not have her pitied and patronized.»
«No one's pitying her!»
«I pity her,» said Francis.
«You can just shut up, you're leaving here in three minutes, the real doctor is coming and I don't want you arsing around-«Come on, Priscilla.»
«Steady on, Bradley, maybe Chris is right.»
«And don't call her Chris.»
«You can't have it both ways, Brad, disown me and-«Priscilla is perfectly well, she just needs to pull herself together.»
«Bradley doesn't believe in mental illness.»
«Well, neither do I as it happens, but-«You are all persuading her she's ill, while what she needs-«Bradley, she needs rest and quiet.»
«Is this rest and quiet?»
«Brad, she's a sick woman.»
«Priscilla, get up.»
«Brad, do stop shouting.»
«I think I really must go.»
«You do want to stay here with me, don't you, darling, you said so, you want to stay with Christian?»
«He won't send my things, I know he won't, I'll never see them again, never.»
«It's going to be all right.»
In the end Rachel and Arnold and Francis and I left the house together. At least, I just turned and walked out, and the others followed somehow.
Out in the street some blackness boiled in my eyes. Sun, filtered through hazy cloud, dazzled me. People loomed in front of me in bulky shadowy shapes and passed me by like ghosts, like trees walking. I could hear the others hurrying after. I had heard them clattering down the stairs, but I did not look round. I felt sick.
«Bradley, you look as if you've gone blind, here, don't walk out into the roadway like that, you ass.»
Arnold had hold of my sleeve. He held onto me. The other two crowded up, staring.
Rachel said, «Leave her there for a day or two. Then she'll have recovered and you can take her away.»
