'Isn't that enough?'
'Well, it's a special occasion, isn't it?' Sue was non-committal. 'What about a bottle of champagne?'
'You've got to drive me home, remember?'
'We could get a taxi.'
'What about your car?'
'Perhaps the police will pick it up.' Sue laughed and Morse saw her white teeth and the fullness of her lips. 'What do you say?
'I'm in your hands, Inspector.' Would you were, he thought.
Several other couples were now dancing and Sue was watching them. 'You enjoy dancing?' Sue kept her eyes on the dancers and nodded. A young Adonis waved a hand in their direction.
' 'lo Sue. All right?' Sue raised a hand in greeting.
'Who's that?' asked Morse aggressively.
'Doctor Eyres. He's one of the housemen at the Radcliffe.' She seemed almost hypnotized by the scene. But she turned back into Morse's orbit with the arrival of the champagne, and after a while the conversation took a freer course. Morse chattered as amiably and interestingly as he could and Sue seemed pleasantly relaxed. They ordered their meal, and Morse poured another glass of champagne. The band stopped; the couples on the floor clapped half-heartedly for a few seconds and retired to the perimeter tables. Dr. Eyres and his heavily mascaraed young brunette made their way towards Morse's table, and Sue seemed glad to see them.
'Doctor Eyres this is Inspector Morse.' The two men shook hands. 'And this is Sandra. Sandra this is Inspector Morse.' The leaden-eyed Sandra, it transpired, was also a nurse and worked with Sue at the Radcliffe Infirmary. The band resumed its plangent strains.
'Mind if I had this dance with Sue, Inspector?'
'Of course not,' smiled Morse. You lousy, lecherous medico. Sandra sat down and looked at Morse with obvious interest in her eyes.
'I'm awfully sorry not to be able to ask you to dance,' he said, but I've had an accident with my foot. Nearly better, though.'
Sandra was sympathy itself. 'Oh dear. How did that happen?'
For the fiftieth time in the last seven days Morse repeated the attendant circumstances of his escapade. But his mind was all on Sue. As she escorted the houseman to the floor he thought of Coleridge:
He watched them dance; he saw Sue's arms closely round her partner's neck, her body close to his; and then his cheek was brushing her hair, her head happily resting on his shoulder. Morse felt sick of a jealous dread. He turned his eyes away from the smooching couples. 'Do you know, I reckon I could just about cope with this dance myself,' he said. 'May I?' He took her hand, led her to the floor and, firmly placing his right arm round her waist, drew her towards him. Rapidly, however, he realized the extent of his own stupidity. His injured foot was working like a dream, but lacking the confidence to lift his other foot more than a centimetre off the dance-floor he was soon kicking his partner's toes with monotonous and ill-received regularity. Mercifully the dance was quickly over, and mumbling profuse apologies about his ill-educated feet Morse slopped his way back to the haven of his table. Sue was still talking in an animated way to Doctor Eyres, and after Sandra had rejoined them, the trio erupted into peals of laughter.
Ten minutes earlier Morse had anticipated that even the most succulent steak would taste tonight as dry as the Dead Sea apples, but he tucked into his meal with a will. At least he could eat. Even if he couldn't dance, even if he'd forgotten how middle-aged he'd now become, even if Sue was yearning for someone else, he could still eat. And jolly good it was. They said little and when something was said, as they drank their coffees, it came as a big surprise.
'Why did you ask me out, Inspector?'
Morse looked at her, the hair light-brown and lifted softly from her face, her face itself all freshness and delight, the cheeks now faintly flushed with wine; and above all the magic of those wide and doleful eyes. Had he asked her with any firm purpose? He wasn't sure. He put his elbows on the table, rested his chin on his clasped hands. 'Because I find you so very beautiful and I wanted to be with you.'
Sue looked at him for several seconds, her eyes unblinking and gentle. 'Do you mean that?' she asked quietly.
'I don't know if I meant it when I asked you. But I mean it now — I think you know I do.' He spoke simply and calmly and he held her eyes with his own as he spoke. He saw two splendid tears forming on her lower lids and she reached across and laid her hand upon his arm.
'Come and dance with me,' she whispered.
The floor was crowded and they did little more than sway slowly to the sweet, low rhythm of the band. Sue leaned her head lightly against his cheek and Morse felt with a wonderful joy the moisture of her eyes. He wished the world would stop and that this heavenly moment could be launched on the eternal seas. He kissed her ear and said some awkward, loving things, and Sue nuzzled deeper and deeper into his arms and pulled him even more closely to her. They stood together as the music ended, and Sue looked up at him. 'Can we go now, please. Somewhere on our own?'
Morse remembered little of the next few minutes. He had waited in a dream-like state beside the revolving doors and arm-in-arm the two had slowly walked along St. Giles' towards the car.
'I want to talk to you,' said Sue when they were sitting in the car.
'I'm listening.'
'You know when you said that you might not have meant. . might not have meant what you said. Oh, I'm getting all muddled. What I mean is — you did want to ask me something, didn't you?'
