me here and fled.’
James looked down at the ground, feeling even less manly than before.
‘Wasn’t it funny seeing James at that sale?’ said Joan.
‘You didn’t tell me,’ said Leonora, with a hint of reproach in her tone.
‘No, I must have forgotten,’ said James lamely.
‘Well, that is flattering,’Joan protested. ‘I obviously made no impression.’
James joined uncertainly in the general laughter. Had she seen him with Phoebe? he wondered. As far as he could remember Phoebe had been some distance away when Joan and Richard had come up to him. To his relief Joan now left the subject. Apparently there had been another sale with much more amusing things.
‘Dickie found the most marvellous old flowered loo,’ she prattled. ‘So we’re going to put it in the window and fill it with bulrushes and pampas grass.’
Leonora promised to visit their shop, though, as she admitted afterwards, she thought Joan and Dickie rather tiresome and silly. ‘You never told me you’d met them,’ she repeated to James, as they were walking round the show, and now perhaps ftiere was more than a hint of reproach in her tone, what with the heat and noise and her feet hurting a little.
‘I’m afraid Joan was right – it just didn’t make that much impression,’ said James rather crossly.
They had stopped in front of a cage where a cat-like shape shrouded in a cloth lay fast asleep. How much wiser to contract out altogether, James felt, as this creature had evidently done. Or to Sit stolidly in one’s earth tray, unmoved by the comments of passers-by. Yet too often, like some of the more exotic breeds, one prowled uneasily round one’s cage uttering loud plaintive cries.
Leonora looked up at James anxiously and saw that he was frowning. This characteristic sign of displeasure made her realise that she had gone too far. It had been a mistake to repeat her complaint; obviously James couldn’t be expected to tell her every detail of his life and secretly she was pleased that meeting Joan had made so little impression on him. ‘Do you think Liz would mind if we slipped away?’ she said.
‘No – let’s do that. I’ll give you tea at my place.’
‘I should like that. And we might go through your things.’
‘Are you sure you can cope with all this?' James asked as they were having tea. ‘Mrs Jelly did offer, you know, and she’s on the spot.’
But, darling, she doesn’t know your things like I do-besides she’s much too busy.’ Leonora smiled as she remembered how she used to feel almost jealous of the woman who lived in the flat below James, until she had met the excellent Mrs Jelly, cosy, motherly, but thoroughly unattractive and much occupied with her job as corset buyer for one of the big stores.
‘Well, of course I’d much rather you did it, if you really feel you can,’ said James. ‘I’ll take my personal stuff or leave it with Humphrey.’
Leonora’s glance strayed to the photograph of his mother and rested there awhile. No doubt he would be taking that. It always disturbed her to think that this young woman, with the curly hairstyle and dark lipstick of the early fifties, so well remembered by Leonora herself, should be James’s mother. They had talked about her in the early days of their acquaintance, when James had told her of their closeness and of her sudden tragic illness and death, but now she was taken for granted and aroused no more interest than the rather bored reverence accorded to Humphrey’s dead wife Chloe in her ATS uniform. All the same, how fresh and young she looked now when Leonora was feeling the effects of an exhausting afternoon.
‘I’m rather tired, darling,’ she said. ‘Please, James, would you take me home?’
‘But of course,’ he said, ‘we’ll go now.’ Trailing round that cat show had been too much for her, obviously, and he could see that she was tired. He noticed for the first time some new lines on her beautiful neck, and he took her arm
James looked down at the ground, feeling even less manly than before.
‘Wasn’t it funny seeing James at that sale?’ said Joan.
‘You didn’t tell me,’ said Leonora, with a hint of reproach in her tone.
‘No, I must have forgotten,’ said James lamely.
‘Well, that is flattering,’Joan protested. ‘I obviously made no impression.’
James joined uncertainly in the general laughter. Had she seen him with Phoebe? he wondered. As far as he could remember Phoebe had been some distance away when Joan and Richard had come up to him. To his relief Joan now left the subject. Apparently there had been another sale with much more amusing things.
‘Dickie found the most marvellous old flowered loo,’ she prattled. ‘So we’re going to put it in the window and fill it with bulrushes and pampas grass.’
Leonora promised to visit their shop, though, as she admitted afterwards, she thought Joan and Dickie rather tiresome and silly. ‘You never told me you’d met them,’ she repeated to James, as they were walking round the show, and now perhaps ftiere was more than a hint of reproach in her tone, what with the heat and noise and her feet hurting a little.
‘I’m afraid Joan was right – it just didn’t make that much impression,’ said James rather crossly.
They had stopped in front of a cage where a cat-like shape shrouded in a cloth lay fast asleep. How much wiser to contract out altogether, James felt, as this creature had evidently done. Or to Sit stolidly in one’s earth tray, unmoved by the comments of passers-by. Yet too often, like some of the more exotic breeds, one prowled uneasily round one’s cage uttering loud plaintive cries.
Leonora looked up at James anxiously and saw that he was frowning. This characteristic sign of displeasure made her realise that she had gone too far. It had been a mistake to repeat her complaint; obviously James couldn’t be expected to tell her every detail of his life and secretly she was pleased that meeting Joan had made so little impression on him. ‘Do you think Liz would mind if we slipped away?’ she said.
‘No – let’s do that. I’ll give you tea at my place.’
‘I should like that. And we might go through your things.’
‘Are you sure you can cope with all this?' James asked as they were having tea. ‘Mrs Jelly did offer, you know, and she’s on the spot.’
But, darling, she doesn’t know your things like I do-besides she’s much too busy.’ Leonora smiled as she remembered how she used to feel almost jealous of the woman who lived in the flat below James, until she had met the excellent Mrs Jelly, cosy, motherly, but thoroughly unattractive and much occupied with her job as corset buyer for one of the big stores.
‘Well, of course I’d much rather you did it, if you really feel you can,’ said James. ‘I’ll take my personal stuff or leave it with Humphrey.’
Leonora’s glance strayed to the photograph of his mother and rested there awhile. No doubt he would be taking that. It always disturbed her to think that this young woman, with the curly hairstyle and dark lipstick of the early fifties, so well remembered by Leonora herself, should be James’s mother. They had talked about her in the early days of their acquaintance, when James had told her of their closeness and of her sudden tragic illness and death, but now she was taken for granted and aroused no more interest than the rather bored reverence accorded to Humphrey’s dead wife Chloe in her ATS uniform. All the same, how fresh and young she looked now when Leonora was feeling the effects of an exhausting afternoon.
‘I’m rather tired, darling,’ she said. ‘Please, James, would you take me home?’
‘But of course,’ he said, ‘we’ll go now.’ Trailing round that cat show had been too much for her, obviously, and he could see that she was tired. He noticed for the first time some new lines on her beautiful neck, and he took her arm
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