together.
"It's hopeless," I thought.
"All three of us are going to be unhappy for the rest of our lives."
Then the lamb cutlet arrived surrounded by a sea of white plate and
looking smaller than I had believed any cutlet could. I ate it as
slowly as possible;
I even ate the sprig of parsley they throw in for the seven pence Then the waitress put the bill down on the table and cleared away my plate in a very final way, so after a long drink of free water I felt I had better go. I opened my bag to get out a tip for the waitress and
then-All my life I shall remember it. My purse wasn't in my bag.
I hunted frantically, but without any hope. Because I knew that purse was still in the evening bag Rose had lent me.
All I found through my search was a gritty farthing in the comb
pocket.
I felt icy cold and sick. The lights seemed to be much more glaring,
the people all around seemed suddenly noisier and yet quite unreal. A voice in my head said: "Keep calm, keep calm now- you can explain to the manager. Give him your name and address and offer to leave
something of value." But I didn't have anything of value; no watch or jewelry, my bag was almost worn out, I hadn't even a coat or hat--for a wild minute I wondered if I could leave my shoes.
"But he'll see you're a respectable person--he'll trust you." I tried to reassure myself--and then I began to wonder if I looked a
respectable person. My hair was untidy, my green dress was bright and cheap compared with London clothes, and Heloise needing its belt didn't improve matters.
"But they can't send for the police just for a pot of tea and one cutlet," I told myself. And then it dawned on me that it wasn't only for my bill that I needed money--how was I to get to the station
without a taxi his I couldn't walk Heloise all those miles, even if I could manage them myself.
And my railway ticket-That was in the purse, too.
"I've got to get help," I thought, desperately.
But how his There were call-boxes in the front part of the restaurant, but apart from feeling I would rather die than telephone the flat, I
knew it would involve Rose in impossible explanations. Then I suddenly remembered Stephen's message that he was always at my service--but
could I bring myself to wake the Fox-Cottons up at nearly two in the
morning? I was still arguing with myself when waitress came back and
looked at me very pointedly, so I felt I had to do something.
I got up, leaving my bill lying on the table.
"I'm waiting for someone who's late--I'll have to telephone," I said.
"Will you keep this place for me ?"
Heloise hated being wakened, but I didn't dare leave her at the table; mercifully, she was too sleepy to do any barking. I explained at the
pay-desk that I was going to telephone--I noticed the girl watching to see that I did go into a call-box. It was awfully hot inside,
particularly with Heloise slumped against me like a fur-covered
furnace. I opened the book to find the Fox-Cottons" number -And then I remembered. You need pennies to telephone from a public call-box.
"You'll laugh at this one day," I told myself, "you'll laugh like anything." And then I leaned against the call-box wall and began to cry--but I soon stopped when I remembered that my handkerchief was in Rose's evening bag. I stared at the box you put the pennies in and
thought how willingly I would rob it, if I knew how.
"Oh, please, God--do something!" I said in my heart.
Then a person who didn't seem to be me put my hand up very quickly and pressed Button B. When the pennies came out, my inner voice said: "I knew they would."
And then, in memory, I heard the Vicar talking of prayer, faith and the slot machine.
Can faith work backwards his Could the fact that I was going to pray
have made someone forget to take their pennies back? And if it was
really prayer that did it, couldn't Button B have saved me from
troubling Stephen by giving me a pound?
"Though, of course, it would have had to be in pennies," I thought.
I prayed again, then pressed the button, wondering how I could cope
with a shower of two hundred and forty pennies--but I needn't have
worried. So I got on with telephoning the Fox-Cottons.
Leda answered--sooner than I had expected.
She sounded furious. I told her I was dreadfully sorry to disturb her but that I simply couldn't help it. Then I asked her to get Stephen.
She said: "Certainly not. You can't talk to him now."
"But I've got to," I told her.
"And I know he won't mind if you wake him- he'd want you to, if he knew I was in difficulties."
"You can stay in difficulties until tomorrow morning," she said.
"I won't let you bother Stephen now.
It's disgusting the way "
She broke off, and for an awful second I thought she had hung up the
receiver. Then I heard voices, though I couldn't distinguish any
words- until she suddenly yelled out:
"Don't you dare do that!"
Then she gave a shrill little squawk- and the next second, Stephen was speaking to me.
"What's happened, what's wrong?" he cried.
I told him as quickly as I could--leaving out the quarrel with Rose, of course. I said I had meant to go home by a late train.
"But there isn't any late train his "Yes, there is," I said quickly,
"there's one you didn't know about.
Oh, I'll explain it all later. All that matters now is that I'm
stranded here and if you don't come along quickly I shall get
arrested."
"I'll start at once was he sounded terribly upset.
"Don't be frightened. Go back to your table and order something else
--that will stop them suspecting you. And don't let any men talk to
you-or any women either, especially hospital nurses."
"All right--but do be as quick as you can."
Afterwards, I wished I hadn't said that about being arrested, because I knew he would believe it- as I never quite had done myself.
But being stranded like that in a London restaurant can be very
panic-striking, particularly in the middle of the night, and I did want to make sure he would come. I was wringing wet when I hung the
receiver up. I had to roll Heloise off my feet and simply drag her
back to my table. Her eyes were just two pink slits. She was
practically sleepwalking.
I told the waitress my friend would arrive very soon, and ordered a
chocolate ice-cream soda. Then I sat back and just wallowed in
relief--it was so great that I forgot how unhappy I was and began to
take an interest in my surroundings. There were some people at a
near-by table who were connected with a new play--one of them was the author--and they were waiting for the morning papers with the notices of it to come out. It was funny how nice and interesting almost
everyone looked once my panic was over--before, there had been just a sea of noisy faces. While I was having my ice-cream soda (it was
glorious), a hospital nurse came in and sat at the very next table. I almost choked through my straw--because knew what poor Stephen had been driving at.
Miss Marcy had a story that fake nurses rush about drugging girls and shipping them to the Argentine to be what she calls, "Well-daughters of joy, dear." But as I picture the Argentine, it has plenty of its own joyful daughters.
Stephen didn't arrive until after three o'clock-he said he'd had to
walk nearly a mile before finding a taxi. He had an odd, strained
look, which I put down to his having been so frightened about me.
I made him have a long, cold lemonade.
"Did you snatch the telephone from Leda?" I asked.