I'll leave you for a while. Look through my books. Or there are records there if you like music.
He opened the door, and walked into Caroline, who had her hand raised to knock. He said:
Hello, sweet! I didn't expect you.
I haven't come to stay; don't worry.
She was already in the room. Sorme said:
You two don't know one another, do you? Oliver Glasp. Caroline Denbigh.
Caroline said:
Oh, you're the famous Oliver Glasp! I've met you somewhere before, haven't I?
Glasp was staring at her, wearing an odd, sulky expression. He said:
I don't know.
The accent became broad, as deliberate as that of a Yorkshire comedian. Looking at Caroline, Sorme found it impossible to imagine why Glasp should seem displeased.
She was wearing a fur coat, with a fur hood that almost covered her face. The face, under the fringe of blonde hair, was as pink and round as a doll's. He said: Have a glass of wine, sweet?
Ooh, rather!
She pulled back the hood to take her first sip of wine. She was wearing black gloves. Sorme said:
I've got to go and cook some chips. Come on up to the kitchen with me.
When they were alone in the kitchen, she said:
I don't think he likes me much.
Oh, I don't know. His manner's always a bit gruff. He's all right when you get to know him.
Isn't it hot up here?
Take your coat off.
No, pet. I won't stay. I'm just on my way to rehearsal and I thought I'd come and say hello. It doesn't start till eight. I wanted to make sure you hadn't got any other women.
Where have you come from?
Aunt Gertrude's. I'm sleeping there tonight.
Oh yes. How is she?
She's all right. What did she want to see you about?
Austin.
Oh yes!
Why, what did you think…?
Oh, I don't know. She wants to get you into her Jehovah's Witnesses.
How do you know?
Oh, it's pretty obvious. What did she want to know about Austin?
She's found out he's queer. I think she wanted to know if I was.
And what did you say?
I tossed her vigorously on the bed and made her think I was a goat in disguise.
Don't be silly! What did you say?
Oh, nothing… I just tried to make her see that there'd be no point in giving Austin a lecture on the laws of Moses. She took it rather well, on the whole.
Tell me about it. In detail.
He gave her an account of his conversation with Miss Quincey while he fried the gammon, stopping at the point where he had a bath. She said:
She looked a bit upset when I came home. I wondered what had been going on!
What time was that?
Oh, about four.
He shook the chips in their wire basket until the brown ones came to the top, then immersed them again in the boiling fat. He said:
Does she know you're here?
No. I've got a feeling she'd be jealous.
Why? Do you think she's after me?
I shouldn't think so!
Why, then?
Because she discovered you before I did. I think she wants you for her Bible class.
Hmmm.
She had laid her coat over the kitchen chair. She was wearing a plain red dress, with a band of fur round the neck. He bent and kissed her, and felt the coldness of her lips which gave way immediately to the inside of her mouth. The familiar reaction of desire came over him; as she stood against him, he cupped her buttocks in his hands and strained her thighs tight against him. He said, laughing: Bed?
Not now. There's someone in your room!
There won't be tomorrow night.
You'll have to wait till tomorrow then, won't you?
He experienced a lurch of delight at her frankness. He said:
You could come back later tonight…
I couldn't. Aunt Gertrude'd get suspicious. Then I'd have to go home to Wimbledon every night…
The saucepan lid began to jar softly as the steam forced it open. He released her with regret and turned back to the cooking. She said:
You know, I've met that man somewhere before…
Where?
I don't know. Let me think. St Martin's… St Martin's…
The Art School?
No, I… It's something to… Ah, I remember. The amusement arcade. In the Charing Cross Road. That's where I saw him.
That doesn't sound like Oliver!
Yes, it was. I'm sure. He was with a little girl, and he started a row about one of the machines — it didn't work, or something. He was wearing a dirty old duffle coat.
What was the girl like?
I don't know. I didn't really notice her. Quite a little girl — about ten or eleven, I'd say.
Attractive?
What, at that age! You don't think he likes them that young, do you?
I shouldn't think so. But I saw a painting he did of a little girl — might be the same one.
He turned and peered down the stairs, wondering if their voices were audible to Glasp, and decided not. She asked:
What's the time, Gerard?
Ten past seven.
I'd better be off.
Wouldn't you like some supper?
No, thanks. I've had tea.
He took the warm plates from under the grill and used the fish slice to put the bacon on them; he shook the fat out of the chips, and poured them from the wire basket on to the plates. Caroline said approvingly:
Mmmmm! You're quite a good cook. If we ever got married, you'd be useful.
He asked:
Do you want to get married?
She rubbed her head against his shoulder.
I wouldn't mind being married to you.
What! On less than a week's acquaintance?
As he turned to face her, she put both her arms round his neck; she said softly, defensively:
I don't need to know you for a long time. I know what you're like already.
Do you? What am I like?
