and it fell on the side of hisown trousers. Gerald lifted the flap for Mrs Pascoe and stood back to let her precede him from the bar. As he followed her, he heard her husband maundering off into unintelligible inward searchings.
‘The Kummel!’ said Mrs Pascoe, remembering in the doorway.
‘Never mind,’ said Gerald. ‘Perhaps I could try one of the other bars?’
‘Not tonight. They’re shut. I’d better go back.’
‘No. We’ll think of something else.’ It was not yet nine o’clock, and Gerald wondered about the licensing justices.
But in the lounge was another unexpected scene. Mrs Pascoe stopped as soon as they entered, and Gerald, caught between two imitation-leather armchairs, looked over her shoulder.
Phrynne had fallen asleep. Her head was slightly on one side, but her mouth was shut, and her body no more than gracefully relaxed, so that she looked most beautiful, and, Gerald thought, a trifle unearthly, like a dead girl in an early picture by Millais.
The quality of her beauty seemed also to have impressed Commandant Shotcroft; for he was standing silently behind her and looking down at her, his sad face transfigured. Gerald noticed that a leaf of the pseudo-Elizabethan screen had been folded back, revealing a small cretonne-covered chair, with an open tome face downward in its seat.
‘Won’t you join us?’ said Gerald boldly. There was that in the Commandant’s face which boded no hurt. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
The Commandant did not turn his head, and for a moment seemed unable to speak. Then in a low voice he said, ‘For a moment only.’
‘Good,’ said Gerald. ‘Sit down. And you, Mrs Pascoe.’ Mrs Pascoe was dabbing at her face. Gerald addressed the Commandant. ‘What shall itbe?’
‘Nothing to drink,’ said the Commandant in the same low mutter. It occurred to Gerald that if Phrynne awoke, the Commandant would go.
‘What about you?’ Gerald looked at Mrs Pascoe, earnestly hoping she would decline.
‘No thanks.’ She was glancing at the Commandant. Clearly she had not expected him to be there.
Phrynne being asleep, Gerald sat down too. He sipped his brandy. It was impossible to romanticise the action with a toast.
The events in the bar had made him forget about the bells. Now, as they sat silently round the sleeping Phrynne, the tideof sound swept over him once more.
‘You mustn’t think,’ said Mrs Pascoe, ‘that he’s always like that.’ They all spoke in hushed voices. All of them seemed to have reason to do so. The Commandant was again gazing sombrely at Phrynne’s beauty.
‘Of course not.’ But it was hard to believe.
‘The licensed business puts temptations in a man’s way.’
‘It must be very difficult.’
‘We ought never to have come here. We were happy in South Norwood.’
‘You must do good business during the season.’
‘Two months,’ said Mrs Pascoe bitterly, but still softly. ‘Two and a half at the very most. The people who come during the season have no idea what goes on out of it.’
‘What made you leave South Norwood?’
‘Don’s stomach. The doctor said the air would do him good.’
‘Speaking of that, doesn’t the sea go too far out? We went down on the beach before dinner, but couldn’t see it anywhere.’
On the other side of the fire, the Commandant turned his eyes from Phrynne and looked at Gerald.
‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Mrs Pascoe. ‘I never have time to look from one year’s end to the other.’ It was a customary enough answer, but Gerald felt that it did not disclose the whole truth. He noticed that Mrs Pascoe glanced uneasily at the Commandant, who by now was staring neither at Phrynne nor at Gerald but at the toppling citadels in the fire.
‘And now I must get on with my work,’ continuedMrs Pascoe, ‘I only came in for a minute.’ She looked Gerald in the face. ‘Thank you,’ she said, and rose.
‘Please stay a little longer,’ said Gerald, ‘Wait till my wife wakes up.’ As
‘The Kummel!’ said Mrs Pascoe, remembering in the doorway.
‘Never mind,’ said Gerald. ‘Perhaps I could try one of the other bars?’
‘Not tonight. They’re shut. I’d better go back.’
‘No. We’ll think of something else.’ It was not yet nine o’clock, and Gerald wondered about the licensing justices.
But in the lounge was another unexpected scene. Mrs Pascoe stopped as soon as they entered, and Gerald, caught between two imitation-leather armchairs, looked over her shoulder.
Phrynne had fallen asleep. Her head was slightly on one side, but her mouth was shut, and her body no more than gracefully relaxed, so that she looked most beautiful, and, Gerald thought, a trifle unearthly, like a dead girl in an early picture by Millais.
The quality of her beauty seemed also to have impressed Commandant Shotcroft; for he was standing silently behind her and looking down at her, his sad face transfigured. Gerald noticed that a leaf of the pseudo-Elizabethan screen had been folded back, revealing a small cretonne-covered chair, with an open tome face downward in its seat.
‘Won’t you join us?’ said Gerald boldly. There was that in the Commandant’s face which boded no hurt. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
The Commandant did not turn his head, and for a moment seemed unable to speak. Then in a low voice he said, ‘For a moment only.’
‘Good,’ said Gerald. ‘Sit down. And you, Mrs Pascoe.’ Mrs Pascoe was dabbing at her face. Gerald addressed the Commandant. ‘What shall itbe?’
‘Nothing to drink,’ said the Commandant in the same low mutter. It occurred to Gerald that if Phrynne awoke, the Commandant would go.
‘What about you?’ Gerald looked at Mrs Pascoe, earnestly hoping she would decline.
‘No thanks.’ She was glancing at the Commandant. Clearly she had not expected him to be there.
Phrynne being asleep, Gerald sat down too. He sipped his brandy. It was impossible to romanticise the action with a toast.
The events in the bar had made him forget about the bells. Now, as they sat silently round the sleeping Phrynne, the tideof sound swept over him once more.
‘You mustn’t think,’ said Mrs Pascoe, ‘that he’s always like that.’ They all spoke in hushed voices. All of them seemed to have reason to do so. The Commandant was again gazing sombrely at Phrynne’s beauty.
‘Of course not.’ But it was hard to believe.
‘The licensed business puts temptations in a man’s way.’
‘It must be very difficult.’
‘We ought never to have come here. We were happy in South Norwood.’
‘You must do good business during the season.’
‘Two months,’ said Mrs Pascoe bitterly, but still softly. ‘Two and a half at the very most. The people who come during the season have no idea what goes on out of it.’
‘What made you leave South Norwood?’
‘Don’s stomach. The doctor said the air would do him good.’
‘Speaking of that, doesn’t the sea go too far out? We went down on the beach before dinner, but couldn’t see it anywhere.’
On the other side of the fire, the Commandant turned his eyes from Phrynne and looked at Gerald.
‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Mrs Pascoe. ‘I never have time to look from one year’s end to the other.’ It was a customary enough answer, but Gerald felt that it did not disclose the whole truth. He noticed that Mrs Pascoe glanced uneasily at the Commandant, who by now was staring neither at Phrynne nor at Gerald but at the toppling citadels in the fire.
‘And now I must get on with my work,’ continuedMrs Pascoe, ‘I only came in for a minute.’ She looked Gerald in the face. ‘Thank you,’ she said, and rose.
‘Please stay a little longer,’ said Gerald, ‘Wait till my wife wakes up.’ As
Similar Books
