Read Online It Ends with Revelations by Dodie Smith - Free Book Online
Authors: Dodie Smith
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‘because you didn’t fidget. You sat still as a statue.’
‘But your face changed a lot. First it was sad and then it was gay. And in the last movement it was radiant. Oh, there’s Mr Quentin – just going into the hotel.’
Jill considered asking the girls to join them at lunch but decided against it. She knew Miles would be charming to them but their presence would prevent his talking exclusively about the play, should he want to – as, in fact, he did. His latest news was that it was rather too long for London, and Peter and the author were now working on cuts – ‘Also they’re considering a new slant for the ending.You’ll remember the New Town critic wondered if the boy, after all, isn’t an imposter; he only believes he is. And that’s the final twist of the mother’s revenge.’
‘You mean, first she says he’s your son, and then she says he isn’t, but all the time he is, only you and he never find out? Sounds very confusing.’
‘Peter thought it might add to the play’s stature.’
‘Has it got any?’
‘I suppose not,’ said Miles, looking crestfallen. ‘It’s just that one tries to admire what one’s acting in.’
She regretted her momentary impatience. ‘Anyway, it’s a highly effective play. And who am I to judge its stature? The critics here were impressed with it. Perhaps this new slant will work well.’
But she feared her impatience had been noted for he stopped talking about the play and suggested they should spend the afternoon exploring the town – ‘and you can show me that hat you mentioned.’
‘Fancy your remembering!’
‘Don’t I always like helping you to choose clothes?’
‘It’s one of your nicest traits. All right, then, and I’ll change my dress and do you proud. Anyway, that hat will need a bit of dressing up for.’
She was upstairs, changing, when she heard a very odd noise through her open window. Robin and Kit were below, giving an impression of a town band playing the scherzo from the Schubert Octet.
‘We’re serenading you,’ said Kit, as Jill looked out. ‘Come shopping in the New Town with us.’
Jill explained why she couldn’t, adding, ‘And are there any good shops in the New Town?’
‘Oh, you can often find skittish little dresses,’ said Robin, ‘and at bargain prices. Anyway, the New Town’s worth seeing.’
‘Is it? I hated it when I stayed in it, years ago.’
‘It takes a bit of knowing,’ said Kit. ‘Some of it’s far older than the Spa Town. There are queer little back alleys. Very romantic, really.’ She offered the last words as if they would be a good come-on.
‘Could you show me tomorrow?’
‘We’re spending the day with Father, visiting old friends,’ said Robin. ‘But may we book you for Thursday morning?’
Jill said she would consider herself booked – ‘that is, unless Miles needs me.’
‘We quite understand,’ said Robin. ‘Well, we hope you and Mr Quentin have a pleasant afternoon.’
Kit, after offering advice as to what they should see, added, ‘Of course, we could show you.’
‘There’s that pushing child again,’ said Robin, marching her sister away.
Jill, setting out with Miles, felt particularly happy. Snatches of the Octet drifted through her head. She had a retentive ear and could often remember a popular song after a single hearing. Schubert was very different; one’s ear could not retain the shimmer. She must certainly get a record player.
As they turned into the arcade, she explained how thehat had been brought to her notice by Geoffrey Thornton. ‘But that was on Saturday, after I met him at the chocolate counter. They may not have the same hat in the window now.’
But it was there all right. And to her surprise it made Miles laugh. ‘Surely that’s just a display hat, a sort of shop sign? You couldn’t possibly wear it, even at a Buckingham Palace garden party.’
Slightly deflated, she said, ‘I expect you’re right – anyway, about me. But I
‘But your face changed a lot. First it was sad and then it was gay. And in the last movement it was radiant. Oh, there’s Mr Quentin – just going into the hotel.’
Jill considered asking the girls to join them at lunch but decided against it. She knew Miles would be charming to them but their presence would prevent his talking exclusively about the play, should he want to – as, in fact, he did. His latest news was that it was rather too long for London, and Peter and the author were now working on cuts – ‘Also they’re considering a new slant for the ending.You’ll remember the New Town critic wondered if the boy, after all, isn’t an imposter; he only believes he is. And that’s the final twist of the mother’s revenge.’
‘You mean, first she says he’s your son, and then she says he isn’t, but all the time he is, only you and he never find out? Sounds very confusing.’
‘Peter thought it might add to the play’s stature.’
‘Has it got any?’
‘I suppose not,’ said Miles, looking crestfallen. ‘It’s just that one tries to admire what one’s acting in.’
She regretted her momentary impatience. ‘Anyway, it’s a highly effective play. And who am I to judge its stature? The critics here were impressed with it. Perhaps this new slant will work well.’
But she feared her impatience had been noted for he stopped talking about the play and suggested they should spend the afternoon exploring the town – ‘and you can show me that hat you mentioned.’
‘Fancy your remembering!’
‘Don’t I always like helping you to choose clothes?’
‘It’s one of your nicest traits. All right, then, and I’ll change my dress and do you proud. Anyway, that hat will need a bit of dressing up for.’
She was upstairs, changing, when she heard a very odd noise through her open window. Robin and Kit were below, giving an impression of a town band playing the scherzo from the Schubert Octet.
‘We’re serenading you,’ said Kit, as Jill looked out. ‘Come shopping in the New Town with us.’
Jill explained why she couldn’t, adding, ‘And are there any good shops in the New Town?’
‘Oh, you can often find skittish little dresses,’ said Robin, ‘and at bargain prices. Anyway, the New Town’s worth seeing.’
‘Is it? I hated it when I stayed in it, years ago.’
‘It takes a bit of knowing,’ said Kit. ‘Some of it’s far older than the Spa Town. There are queer little back alleys. Very romantic, really.’ She offered the last words as if they would be a good come-on.
‘Could you show me tomorrow?’
‘We’re spending the day with Father, visiting old friends,’ said Robin. ‘But may we book you for Thursday morning?’
Jill said she would consider herself booked – ‘that is, unless Miles needs me.’
‘We quite understand,’ said Robin. ‘Well, we hope you and Mr Quentin have a pleasant afternoon.’
Kit, after offering advice as to what they should see, added, ‘Of course, we could show you.’
‘There’s that pushing child again,’ said Robin, marching her sister away.
Jill, setting out with Miles, felt particularly happy. Snatches of the Octet drifted through her head. She had a retentive ear and could often remember a popular song after a single hearing. Schubert was very different; one’s ear could not retain the shimmer. She must certainly get a record player.
As they turned into the arcade, she explained how thehat had been brought to her notice by Geoffrey Thornton. ‘But that was on Saturday, after I met him at the chocolate counter. They may not have the same hat in the window now.’
But it was there all right. And to her surprise it made Miles laugh. ‘Surely that’s just a display hat, a sort of shop sign? You couldn’t possibly wear it, even at a Buckingham Palace garden party.’
Slightly deflated, she said, ‘I expect you’re right – anyway, about me. But I
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