Read Online Neither Five Nor Three (Helen Macinnes) by Helen MacInnes - Free Book Online

into the living-room, now almost large again in its emptiness. She picked up a battered shrimp from the beige rug, removed an ashtray that had overflowed on to the green and white striped couch, collected half-empty glasses from the top of the little white mantelpiece. The fireplace was filled with stubs and cigarette ash and burnt matches. Only the dark green walls looked clean, she thought, only the walls and the white picture frames and the white and beige curtains now billowing gently as Scott opened both windows wide. She sat down on the red chair right-angled to the hearth. She was holding a couple of dirty glasses in her hand; she hadn’t even the energy left to decide where to put them. Scott didn’t make any move to come to her, to hold her and kiss her. He was still standing at the opened windows.
    From the street, there floated up cheerful goodbyes. Murray’s voice was calling “Taxi! Taxi!” A woman’s voice broke into laughter.
    “Why did he have to bring Thelma?” Rona said wearily. “That over-aged bacchante...” She sighed and then put the wet glasses down on the hearth.
    “Thelma asks him to a lot of her parties,” Scott said.
    “But why repay her at our expense? She gave Jon and several other men a miserable time. Why didn’t Murray look after her when he brought her here? Why did we ever invite him anyway? Oh, sorry, Scott—I’m just thinking out loud.”
    Scott said slowly, still not looking round, “I’m beginning to think Murray’s a big mistake.”
    “His line is so old ! Two years ago, or three, he could manage to get away with it. But not now.”
    “What do you mean?” Scott looked across the room.
    “Just that he wasn’t the least little bit the original talker he likes to imagine he is. He only succeeded in annoying most of our guests.”
    “Because he thinks differently from them? So we must all talk the same way, think the same things?”
    “No, darling!” She rose and came over to him. “I don’t believe two of us in the room echoed any point of view, except in a general way of—well, of believing that right is right and wrong is wrong.”
    “That’s all relative,” Scott said. “Depends on each man’s frame of reference.”
    “I don’t believe that,” she said, “except for the small things in life. You can find them as relative as you like. But in the big things, you’ve got to decide what is right, what is wrong. Or else you’ve no moral judgment, at all. Like Murray. He’s just a parrot, that’s all he is.” She looked at Scott worriedly, unhappily. He seemed to have forgotten that she was there.
    At last he said stiffly, “Sorry if Murray offended you so much. I won’t ask him again.”
    “He made your father flaming mad.”
    “Dad?” Scott’s voice tightened.
    That’s the trouble, Rona thought. Her worry left her, but standing beside Scott, looking across at the lighted windows opposite and the uneven rows of black chimneys sprouting from the flat roofs, she was still more unhappy. She was waiting for Scott to forget all the things that had irritated him tonight, to take her in his arms and kiss her. She said, appeasingly, “Your father was disappointed he couldn’t stay in town. He wants us to have dinner with him next week, instead.”
    “Yes.”
    “Scott, he had to be back in Staunton tonight. Your father would have stayed if he could.”
    “I suppose so.” Scott picked up a withered canapé from a plate on the writing-desk, examined it critically, threw it back. All day, he had been preparing himself for this family dinner tonight, for the hidden tensions, for the seemingly harmless remarks that disguised petty criticisms. Instead, his father had gone back to Staunton. He shoved the desk chair angrily into place.
    “Scott!” Rona’s voice was near breaking point.
    He turned to face her, suddenly noticing her exhaustion. “Darling!” His face softened. “I’m sorry. I had a bad evening, that’s all.” He took her in his