‘Do you really think that George and that little girl —?’
‘Oh damn her. Damn you. I don’t know.’
‘Diane, I must go.’
‘I won’t say come again. George said he’d kill me if I had anything to do with you and the other brother. Oh God, if I could only talk to people, if I could only have a little bit of happiness, if things could be ordinary — ’ Tears came quietly out of her small doglike eyes. She closed her eyelids slowly, pressing more tears out.
Diane suddenly opened her eyes and the tears seemed to disappear as if abruptly withdrawn into their source. She leapt up, tangling one black heel into the Paisley shawl. Tom leapt up too.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s George. He’s trying to put his key in the door. Quick, quick.’
Diane pulled Tom, gripping his wrist, round which her short fingers could not join, out on to the landing where she slid back the door of a large built- In cupboard. She pushed a number of dresses along on a rail, making a space into which Tom stumbled. Diane whispered, ‘He always goes to the toilet when he comes, I’ll put the radio on, I’ll come out on to the landing and cough, then you go — ’ She slid the cupboard door back again and was gone.
Tom instinctively adjusted the dresses, pulling them in front of him and pressing himself against the back of the big cupboard. His feet, below the dresses, felt huge. He reached out and moved the sliding door slightly. He felt very unpleasantly frightened and ashamed.
The radio was playing again, quite loudly. He heard the downstairs door open and George mounting the stairs and Diane saying something to him. George went into the sitting-room. A minute or two passed and he showed no sign of going to the lavatory.
Diane’s clothes were not like Judy Osmore’s. Diane’s clothes were musty and in need of washing and cleaning, and smelt of stale tobacco and old cosmetics, cosmetics, which went out of fashion long ago, old powder, old lipstick, old face cream, old magic. Tom began to want to sneeze. Then the radio was switched off.
Tom thought, he knows. But now he could hear George and Diane talking in quiet voices. If he had concentrated he could have heard what they were saying. He thought, I must get out of this cupboard; if George were to find me standing here among these dresses I couldn’t bear it, it would ruin my whole life! He slid the door and stepped very quietly out of the cupboard. The sitting-room door was shut, the voices continued, Tom moved step by silent step toward the flat door which Diane had left open. Already he could imagine himself creeping down the stairs, leaning heavily on the banisters, putting his feet down with slow care, then the street door and freedom. At that moment Tom remembered that he had left his hat and coat lying on the floor in the sitting-room.
He checked the impulse to run. He could not now run. Diane might see and hide the awful evidence, but she might very well not. He thought, it’ll be worse for her if he sees them when I’ve gone, I can’t go now, I’ve got to see George, I’ve got to face him and try to explain, oh God why did I come here! I’m doing nothing but harm to everybody —
Tom took a deep breath and opened the sitting-room door. He stood in the doorway.
George and Diane were standing near the sofa holding hands. They had an odd formal dated look, like an old photograph or an old film. They turned toward him. Diane’s face expressed open-mouthed, open-eyed terror. George’s face expressed, for a moment, pure surprise. He let go of Diane’s hand. Then almost artificially, as if he were acting, he transformed his face into a wrinkled mask of indignation and fury.
Tom raised his hand with the palm open. He said, ‘George, I’m sorry. I came here to see Diane to ask her something about Miss Meynell. I’ve never been here before. I’ve never talked to Diane before, well, except once we talked a few sentences at the Baths.’ (Tom felt it essential to be truthful in case the encounter had been witnessed.) ‘I’ve only been here about ten minutes and I was just going to go. Nothing is Diane’s fault. She didn’t want to let me in and when I pushed my way in she begged me to go away. It’s all my fault. I just intruded. It’s nothing to do with her.’
George stepped away from Diane and stared at her as if expecting her to speak, but she was speechless with fear. She stood stiffly, her head turned away from both the men. George frowned, drawing his eyebrows right down over his eyes. He lowered his head. Then he caught sight of Greg Osmore’s coat and hat lying on the floor. He snatched them up and glared at them. Then bundling them up he moved toward the door. Tom dodged promptly out of his way. George went out on to the landing, hurling the bundle in front of him, and kicked it out of the flat and down the stairs. He came back into the room and advanced on Diane, ignoring Tom. He said, ‘Sit down. Sit down there.’ He pointed to a chair against the wall beside the piano. Diane obeyed, putting her hands to her throat. She took off the metal necklace and laid it on the piano.
Tom began, ‘George, listen — ’
‘Who is Miss Meynell?’ said George, still frowning.
‘Hattie Meynell, you know, John Robert’s — ’
‘Oh her. If you refer to her as Miss Meynell you should refer to Diane as Mrs Sedleigh. Don’t you think? What did you want to know about Hattie Meynell?’
‘Oh George - I’m in such an awful mess - and I’ve been such a fool - don’t be angry with me - I just wondered whether you and Hattie were - whether you knew each other at all — ’
‘No,’ said George, ‘I don’t know her. I met her at that picnic, and last Saturday for approximately one minute before she opened the shutters and you started singing. Your ten minutes with Mrs Sedleigh was much longer and I daresay more interesting than my total converse with Miss Meynell. OK?’
‘Mrs Sedleigh said you saw her undressing, I suppose that was at the sea — ’
‘Mrs Sedleigh should keep her bloody mouth shut. I observed her once in her petticoat by field glasses from Belmont. All right now?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you believe me?’
‘Yes, George.’
‘Why are you interested in that little minx? Is she your mistress?’
‘No. And she’s not a little minx.’
‘Your questions to Mrs Sedleigh displayed little faith in the young lady. She may not be a minx now, but she will certainly become one soon, so you’d better hurry.’
‘She’s an innocent girl — ’
‘You think so? Well, perhaps she is. I’m not against her. Because of her … I’ve had a wonderful letter … from John Robert …’ He gave an odd little laugh like a sigh. ‘Did you know that Bill the Lizard has just died?’
‘Yes. How did you know?’
‘It’s round all the pubs. Funny how everybody cares - because that man has died - perhaps it’s a sign — ’
‘I was just going to talk to him,’ said Tom, ‘and then he was dead. Oh George — ’
‘What?’
‘Don’t hurt anybody. Don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt Mrs Sedleigh. Don’t hurt yourself.’
‘You said you were going, why don’t you go? Do you want to be thrown down the stairs after your coat?’
‘I’m glad you had a good letter from John Robert.’
George advanced toward Tom. Tom moved quickly back into the doorway. George stopped in front of his brother and put his hands one on each shoulder. He looked up, he was shorter than Tom, into his brother’s eyes. Tom looked with amazement at George’s round boyish face, which now wore a radiant quizzical amused expression. George looked like someone who was emotionally exalted, ready to cry with happiness as the result of some wonderful news, some great achievement or discovery.