her too.”
”Don’t be crazy, Will-“
”I’ll kill them. Years, you say. Years. And her stringing me along all that time and swearing there was nobody else and letting me give her presents and kiss her hands.”
”Yes, I know, but listen to me still-“
”And saying she wasn’t the marrying sort! Well, she’s not, she’s a bloody harlot! And I laid my life at her feet. I’ll cut her into ribbons. And I’ll kill him. I’ll go now and find them in their bed. Sweet Adelaide/ Oh Christ, I’ll die of this. Where are my clothes?”
”Stop, Will, stop and listen. I’ve hidden your clothes anyway, you won’t find them. Just listen to me-“
”Then I’ll go naked. Get out of my way, Nigel. You’ve driven me mad.”
”The door’s locked. Sit down, sit down.”
Will let go of the doorhandle, which he had been rattling. He stood rigid for a moment, his eyes rolling, and then collapsed back full length onto the bed with a moan, burying his face in his hands. “Oh Adelaide, Adelaide, I loved you, I loved you so.”
Nigel drew the chair up close. He caressed the mop of shaggy dark hair and the shoulders which were shuddering with dry sobs.
”Stop it, Will. You can’t do anything tonight. You’ve got to think it out. You know the truth now, and that gives you power over both of them. Think it out. And don’t try to hurt Adelaide. ‘Leave her to heaven and to those thorns that in her bosom lodge to prick and sting her.’ As for Danby, we’ll think of some way of punishing him. I’ll help you. We’ll do it together.”
Will had stopped sobbing and was sitting up, once more twisting and chafing his right wrist. His eyes were dull and vacant with misery, his mouth half open, dripping saliva. “To think that she-“
”Even she. I didn’t really cut your wrist, did I?”
”After our being children together and all. I thought-It’s like being betrayed by one’s mother.”
”Every man is betrayed by his mother.”
”I trusted her absolutely. I thought she had no other life. For years, you say. With that fat swine. I’ll carve him. And she loved me so much when she was a girl. And so pretty. And so innocent. We were happy then.”
”The three of us.”
”The three of us. We used to go about arm in arm, remember.”
”With her in the middle.”
”And have tugs of war going round lampposts.”
”You always won.”
”Do you remember the day when we told her about sex?”
”And she wouldn’t believe us!”
”God! It’s all so clear, so near.”
”And the building site and the waste land where we used to pick dandelions.”
”And climbing on the scaffolding.”
”And stealing the bricks.”
”And playing French and English.”
”And Grandmother’s Steps.”
”She belonged to the beginning of our life when everything was good.”
”Before we ran away.”
”Before the theatre.”
”Before all those awful things-you know.”
”I know. She was separate from all that. I felt she’d kept the early part somehow, kept our childhood, kept it for me.”
”Kept it all fresh, all pure.”
”Are you laughing at me, Nigel?”
”No, no. Come, you promised-“
”Did Adelaide go to see you, go to your place, after you came back to London?”
”No.”
”She was very funny about you then. I thought you were after her.”
”No, indeed.”
”Well, what’s your motive for telling me all this? What’s in it for you? You love her and you’re trying to come between us!”
”No!”
”You can’t have her and you don’t want me to.”
”No, I swear.”
”Well, why then? Is it just craziness? Or wanting to hurt me? Or wanting to hurt Danby?”
”Just craziness.”
”You hate Danby. You’ve got some sort of grudge against him. Is that it? What made him hit you, anyway?”
”No, Will, that isn’t it, that isn’t it at all.”
The increasing rain tapped on the dark skylight and ran down it in a steady stream. The brothers stared into each other’s eyes, sitting close together in the brightly lighted attic room with their knees touching.
25
The whisky bottle was nearly empty.
Danby was sitting on his bed with his face in his hands. Adelaide was sitting on the floor with her back against the chest of drawers. Her face was swollen up and her eyes practically closed with crying. Her mouth, through which she was breathing heavily, hung open. Every now and then she shuddered and another two large tears came out of the slits of her eyes. She was wearing a blouse over her petticoat but no skirt.
The window curtains were half drawn. It was nine o’clock on the following evening and already dark outside. It was raining violently, abandonedly. A strong gusty wind was driving the rain almost horizontally, bringing it in sharp pattering flurries up against the window, like the crack of handfuls of small pebbles hurled against the glass.
A distant voice was calling. “Danby!”
Danby groaned and rubbed his face deeper into his hands.
Danby got up and without looking at Adelaide stepped over her outstretched legs and began to go up the stairs. He felt stiff and aching and bruised all over.
”DANBY!”
Danby pushed open the door of Bruno’s room and looked in, frowning against the light and peering at Bruno from underneath his hand. The lamp illuminated the comfortless untidy-bed which had been twisted and turned in all day.
”Danby, what’s the matter?”
”Nothing’s the matter. What do you want?”
”Why are you looking at me like that?”
”Like what?”
”As if you can’t see me properly.”
”I’m drunk. What do you want?”
”Where’s Nigel?”
”I don’t know.”
”He hasn’t been here all day. And he wasn’t here last night.”
”It doesn’t matter. Go to sleep, Bruno.”
”It’s too early to go to sleep. And I haven’t had any tea. I called and called and nobody came.”
”I’ll make you some tea.”
