Nobody Asked Me

CHAPTER X

IN one quick movement Alison was on her feet, all the vague, half-defined misery of the last hours swamped by the present crisis.

‘I suppose you’re trying to frighten me,’ she said breathlessly. ‘It’s not very kind of you, Simon, especially just now, when you know I’m so worried.’

‘I’m not trying to frighten you.’ He too, got to his feet, and towered over her as she backed against the wall. ‘I’m simply taking matters out of your hands-making the decision for you.’

‘But you can’t.’ She spoke sharply because she was so much afraid.

‘On the contrary, my dear, I can. That is exactly why you are here.’

‘You mean you arranged this? You did it on purpose?’

Simon smiled faintly.

‘It would have been asking a little too much of chance that I should have it all done for me,’ he said.

‘But it’s ridiculous.’ Alison was trying desperately to hold off the full realisation of her position. ‘It’s too-too utterly melodramatic’

‘Melodrama and fact are quite often the same thing,’ Simon said drily. I’m sorry if I seem to be playing the part of the villain. But I’ve been patient, Alison, for quite a long time-and I am not a patient man by nature.’

‘No,’ she said bitterly. ‘No, I’ve gathered that, You think that to want a thing is the best possible reason for taking it.’

‘It’s a very good reason, Alison, in this imperfect world.’

‘Simon,’ she said appealingly, ‘you don’t really mean the dreadful things you’re saying, do you? Think again.’ She put out her hand and took his for a moment, but, at the way his expression changed when she touched him, she drew back again quickly.

He put his hands behind him, and she saw from the sudden tensing of his muscles how hard he was gripping them together. Somehow, that effort to put some sort of curb on his passion frightened her as much as everything else.

‘Please, please don’t prolong this hateful scene,’ she begged. ‘Take me back home, Simon. I-’’

‘No!’

The monosyllable was curt, rude, and final. It drove the words of protest from Alison’s lips, so that she stood there staring at him in scared silence.

‘Think what you’re asking me to do,’ he said roughly. ‘I’ve thought of you here, dreamt of you here, longed for you here, until I believed I should go mad. Now I have you here-and you ask me to let you go. Now, when we’re alone together and there’s nobody in the whole world to say no-except you yourself. And I trunk I shall know how to turn your "no" into "yes".’

‘You will not!’ With a sudden desperate movement she tried to pass him. But he had her at once, catching her against him in an access of emotion that found vent in a triumphant little laugh.

‘It isn’t any good, you know. You’re mine by every right, and you can’t get away from me.’

She didn’t say anything, only struggled silently, while he held her lightly but irresistibly. She didn’t know whether it were her heart or his that was beating in those slow, heavy thuds, but it seemed to her the only sound in the world just then.

There was silence in the rest of the house, silence outside. Miles and miles of silence-and she and Simon alone in the midst of it.

She had been a fool ever to come with him, an utter fool. And now she had only herself to thank. She ought to have remembered that instinct which had warned her right from the beginning that there was danger in being alone with him.

Now it was too late.

Suddenly she stopped struggling, and lay there quite still against him, staring up into his face.

‘Simon, you wouldn’t do-that to me-by force?’ she whispered.

‘It won’t be force in the end,’ he said softly, and he kissed her, whether she wanted it or no.

‘Please-’

‘No, don’t struggle again.’ He spoke quite quietly. ‘Listen to me instead.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘But you must’ He turned her face gently so that she had to look at him, ‘What is this life of yours with Julian really worth? Nothing. He makes you comfortable and gives you money: well, I will make you comfortable and you can have every penny I possess. He gives you a sort of mild, bloodless affection; I will love you, worship you with every bit of my soul. His mind is with another woman three-quarters of the time; I’ll give you, every thought and word, and you shall do with me what you please.’

‘But I don’t love you.’ It came in weary, unvarnished protest, and, though it was only a whisper, it shook him a little.

‘I’ll make you love me,’ he exclaimed vehemently. ‘God knows, I have more than enough for us both. I’ll give you time, darling. You shall learn to love me, as and when you please.’

‘Time,’ she said bitterly. ‘You’ve given me plenty of time to-night, haven’t you?’

‘Oh, that!’ He made an impatient movement, ‘I had to do things that way if they were to be done at all. But if you will stay here with me now, you shall make your own terms. Oh, yes’-as he saw a scornful little smile just touch her lips-’I can control myself. I know; you think I cannot, But you’re wrong. If you’ll stay here now, you shall do what you please-sleep where you please, since you want it in so many words. Only Julian must know that you spent the night here-and he must be allowed to draw the obvious conclusion. It’s the way out. Can’t you see that it’s the only way out? And so utterly simple.’

Her eyes met his for a moment, and then fell. And, for the first time, he knew his proposal had reached her reason instead of just rousing her terrified instinct.

Suddenly she put her hands over her face.

I can’t, Simon, I can’t, I love him too much.’

‘But I’ll make you love me instead.’

‘It isn’t the same.’

‘No, it wouldn’t be the same. It would be something much more secure and beautiful. Perhaps, Alison, it might be the best thing for him.’

‘If I thought that-’ She dropped her hands and stared away from him, her eyes wide and dark in her white face.

There was that heavy silence again, unbroken except for the beating of their hearts.

Then, far away in the distance, came another sound-the hum of a high-powered car being driven at a great speed. There was the rising whine as it topped a hill, and then the sound almost died away as it dropped into a hollow.

Just the sound of a passing car being driven through the night. No more. And yet somehow it recalled Alison to a sense of reality as nothing else could have done. There was an outside world. There was something else besides these bewildering arguments, this insidious persuasion.

She drew away from him with a quick movement he had not expected.

‘I will not do things this way. It’s useless for you to argue.’

But he was at the door before she could reach it, his back pressed against it, his eyes dark and shadowy once more with that peculiar hint of menace.

‘You have no choice,’ he said a little thickly. ‘If you will not stay willingly and tell Julian you spent the night with me, then you shall stay against your will, and I will tell Julian you spent the night with me.’

‘I shall deny it,’ The colour flamed up in her face. ‘And he’ll believe me.’

‘Oh, no, my dear, you will not deny it,’ he assured her gently, ‘for, in this particular case, it will be true.’

‘It will be-what?’ She backed away from him.

He didn’t move. He only looked at her.

She had a wild and useless impulse to scream for help- perhaps to whoever was driving that nearing car. It was like drowning in sight of land to have someone actually pass at the crux of this fantastic scene.

Pass? No; whoever it was must be stopped somehow. No one could possibly hear her scream against the sound of that car, and yet she must make some sort of effort.

By the sound it must be almost level with the cottage now. Alison drew in her breath to scream with all her strength.

But the sound never came, for, with a grinding of brakes, the car drew up abruptly at the gate, and a second later a man’s footsteps were heard crunching up the gravel path.

The sharpness of the knock on the door made them both wince. Then for a moment neither of them moved.

‘Hadn’t you better go?’ Alison said in a whisper.

‘No. It’s probably a friend from Town, taking a chance on my being here,’ he answered in the same low tone. ‘If I don’t go he’ll think the place is empty. If I do, you won’t have much reputation left.’

Alison thought it queer that he should speak of her reputation at that moment.

The knock came again, with a peremptory sound which certainly didn’t suggest that the caller would be easily discouraged. And at that moment Alison pointed to the window.

‘The shutters aren’t closed. He must be able to see a light.’

‘Damn,’ Simon said, and went out of the room abruptly, closing the door behind him.

She heard the latch of the front door drawn back, and listened for the sound of voices.

There was none.

There were three quick steps across the hall instead. The door was flung open, and Julian, paler and sterner than she had ever seen him, stood in the doorway.

‘Julian,’ she said in a fascinated whisper. ‘Julian-’

And then she couldn’t say any more. It was like a miracle to see him standing there-like an answer to all her unspoken prayers.

She supposed he must be thinking- Well, she couldn’t even imagine what he must be thinking. But that scarcely seemed to matter. The relief was so enormous.

Then Julian spoke, quite quietly.

‘Are you ready to come home with me?’

‘Yes-oh, yes.’ Alison spoke eagerly, almost feverishly.

She looked round a little vaguely for her hat, and Simon handed it to her.

It was only then that she remembered his presence again. She looked at him and she saw that his eyes were on her-burning, pleading, compelling. But she could not do what he wanted. Whether it was good for Julian or not, she couldn’t pretend she loved Simon.

‘It’s the last chance,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Can’t you see that, for us all, you must say something?’

She drew back, and Julian’s voice said coldly:

‘I would rather you didn’t speak to my wife just now, Langtoft.’

Simon didn’t take his eyes from Alison.

‘I was reminding her that perhaps she had better say something to you in explanation of. all this.’

‘She doesn’t need to explain,’ was the chilly reply.

‘Oh, yes, I do.’ Alison came to life. ‘Because it’s quite simple really. I went motoring with Simon. We forgot the time and were late starting back. Then we passed the cottage and he thought I looked cold and needed a hot drink. So we stopped. That’s all.’

For a moment Julian’s eyes went to the fire, which had burnt very low by now.

‘I see,’ he said gravely, and held open the door. ‘Shall we go?’

She came without another word.

At the door she looked back for a second at Simon. He had his head thrown back and his nostrils were slightly distended. Then, as their eyes met, he bowed deeply.

‘To the inevitable,’ he said with a flashing smile. But, as she turned away again, she saw that there were beads of perspiration on his forehead.

She went out to the car with Julian, and he handed her in with all his usual courtesy. He carefully tucked a rug round her and asked her if she were quite comfortable.

‘Yes, thank you,’ Alison said in a subdued little voice.

He backed the car, turned it, and a few seconds later they were heading for London at the full speed of Julian’s powerful car.

She thought at first that he must say something. They couldn’t, surely, drive in silence after all that had happened?

But in silence they drove.

For a while she was relieved. Then she became vaguely annoyed. Was he doing the lofty, injured husband? she wondered resentfully. It didn’t come very well from him in the circumstances.

She wanted to say, ‘Life is melodramatic, as Simon says. In the afternoon I find you in Rosalie’s arms, and in the evening you discover me apparently preparing to spend the night with Simon.’

But she stole a look at Julian’s face and thought it would be wiser not to try this piece of defiance.

Then on one point her sheer curiosity got the better of her.

‘How did you guess where I was?’ she asked in a low voice.

‘I never thought of your being anywhere else,’ he said quite simply.

‘Didn’t you?’ Alison couldn’t hide her astonishment, ‘But why?’

‘Hadn’t we better leave all that until to-morrow?’ he said.

‘To-morrow? Aren’t we going to-to have things out tonight?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you’ve had all the emotional scenes you can stand for one night.’

‘Oh,’ Alison. suddenly wanted to cry at this queer little instance of his thought for her. It was so different-so utterly different-from Simon’s way of forcing an issue, even to the point of being brutal.

‘You’d better just sit back and keep quiet. Shut your eyes and sleep if you can,’ Julian told her.

And for once Alison was rather glad to have him treat her like a child.

In the end, she must have dozed, because there was a gap when she didn’t seem to be thinking about anything. And then she found Julian was carrying her from the car into the flat.

She said something sleepily about being able to walk, but he didn’t seem to hear. Anyway, he took no notice, but carried her right into her bedroom.

‘You’d better go straight to bed, Alison.’

‘Yes,’ she. said, rubbing her eyes rather childishly.

‘Is there anything you want, or will you be quite all right now?’ He spoke very gently.

‘I don’t want anything. I’m all right, thank you. I just-’ just want to go to bed.’

‘Yes, of course. I’ll leave word for you not to be woken in the morning. You’ll need to sleep on.’

She wanted to say pettishly, ‘I’m not ill.’ It hurt to have him so solicitous about her, for it implied that he felt guilty -about Rosalie.’Good night.’ he said.

‘Good night. Julian.’ She forgot about Rosalie suddenly, and wished passionately that he would kiss her good night, He had done so quite. often lately, and perhaps-

But he didn’t, of course. She supposed he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Anyway, it would not have meant anything-any more than the other times had meant anything, she realised now.

She got to bed, weary beyond description. At first she cried a little, partly because it was such a relief to be alone, and partly because she was so frightened of the future. Then she. felt too tired even to cry, and, with the tears still on her cheeks, she sank into a heavy and dreamless sleep.

When she woke again she stared incredulously at the little clock on her table. It said nearly half-past twelve, and from the depth of the light filtering through the curtains she knew it must be somewhere near that time.

Leaning upon her elbow, she rang the bell.

‘Is that really the time, Jenny?’ she said to the maid who came in.

‘Yes, madam.’

‘Goodness, how awful,’ Alison said. But Jenny smiled indulgently. She liked her young mistress. and didn’t see why she shouldn’t stay in bed all day if she wanted to.

‘Mr. Tyndrum said perhaps you would like your lunch in your room, madam.’

Alison considered that.

‘Well-yes, Jenny, I think perhaps I would,’ she said.

and leant back against the pillows again with a slight sigh. She felt a little bit weak and funny, somehow-rather as she had once when she had been convalescing after flu.

It was stupid, of course, because she had never felt better in her life until yesterday afternoon.

When Jenny had gone, she rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. It made her feel sick even now to think of yesterday afternoon, and what had happened then. The scene with Simon afterwards was beginning to look almost insignificant in comparison. After all, she had come quite safely out of that, whereas the reckoning over Rosalie still remained.

Ordinarily, she was more inclined to face things than to avoid them, but she was thankful just now of even an hour or two’s reprieve from the impending scene with Julian.

‘There’s one thing-I must keep calm,’ she told herself. ‘Otherwise I shall go and cry, and then Julian just might guess-and then I’d die.’

When her lunch came she didn’t feel very much like eating it, but she did her best, and then lay there telling herself she must get up.

But, instead, she fell asleep again-to wake with a fearful start, late in the afternoon.

Her heart felt like lead, and she was breathing in quick shallow little breaths. It was a hideous feeling-like waking at school on the morning of a particularly awful exam, only ten times worse.

It was no good shirking things any longer, however, so she got up, thinking how strange it seemed to be bathing and dressing at this hour in the afternoon.

She put on a little brown velvet suit with a pale honey-coloured blouse that Julian had once admired. She always had a special affection for the clothes he liked, though, of course, there wasn’t much sense in thinking about that sort of thing just now.

Julian was not in the lounge when she looked in, so she went along to his study, and there he was, sitting at his desk. He appeared to be writing absorbedly, but she had the quite preposterous impression that until her knock sounded he had been sitting with his head in his hands.

He got up at once, however, and rather anxiously made her come and sit down in a comfortable chair.

‘Do you feel better, Alison? I was getting quite worried about you.’

‘Oh, yes, I’m all right now, thank you.’ She smiled bravely. ‘I’m ashamed to have slept so long.’

‘I expect it was what you needed,’ he said kindly, and then there was an awkward silence.

She glanced at him and saw that, if she had slept well, he had not. There was an air of strain about him that went to her heart.

‘We have a lot-to talk about, Julian,’ she said a little diffidently.

‘Yes, my dear, we have a lot to talk about’

And then suddenly she wanted nothing in the world so much as to reassure him. She put out her hand and took his gently as he stood beside her chair.

‘Julian dear, I want you to know-I don’t blame you in the least’

His face changed indescribably, and she saw he was intensely moved. She supposed it was a fearful relief to him that she should have guessed so much and that few explanations were necessary.

‘My darling child, how dear and generous of you,’ he exclaimed in a low voice. ‘But I blame myself-terribly.’

‘Please don’t,’ Alison said sadly. ‘It was our crazy marriage that was to blame. I remember., the very first moment I suggested it, you told me it would be a ridiculous and unnatural position. You were quite right, of course. Something like this was bound to happen.’

Julian bit his lip, and, even in the firelight, she could see how pale he was.

‘Yes," he admitted, ‘something like this was bound to happen. The only thing that lessens my self-reproach is that the marriage can be cancelled without much fuss. You will be able to divorce me quite quietly.’

‘Of course,’ Alison began. And then the rest stuck in her throat because it hurt unbelievably that he should expect without question that she would let him go at once.

‘But I can’t forget that you must have suffered so much and so unnecessarily, you poor child,’ he said, with an impatient sigh.

‘Oh-oh, no,’ Alison assured him, because, for the sake of her pride, she felt she must say something.

‘Why were you afraid to tell me, Alison? Was it that I had seemed so blind and stupid that you thought I wouldn’t understand?’

‘What-on earth do you mean?’ Alison flushed scarlet, wondering in a moment of furious, shocked humiliation if he were going to sentimentalise about her love for him just as he proposed to leave her.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said gently. ‘I’m not trying to force your confidence. What really happened last night is your affair, not mine. But’-he touched her hair softly-’did you really suppose, my child, that you had to go away with him before I would understand?’

Alison felt her throat go dry.

‘What-what are we talking about?’ she said bewilderedly.

It was his turn to look taken aback, and a little anxious too.

‘Why, about you-you and Simon, of course. What is it, Alison? You’re not feeling faint or something, are you?’

She stared at him.

‘Are you-suggesting-that Simon and I-?’

‘Don’t, Alison,’ he said sharply. ‘Don’t you understand that there’s no need to pretend any more? It’s I myself who should be blamed, for leaving you so much alone and unloved-for being so blind and uncaring. It was not until we were at the cottage that week-end that I realised you loved him-and even then I thought it might be a passing infatuation; you seemed so afraid of it yourself.’

‘Did I?’ she said stupidly. ‘Whatever did I do that made you think that?’

‘Your coming along to me that night, you poor baby, as though you were running away from your own self, and then the next morning, when you were so upset after you had been talking to him-and you begged me to take you home, but would give me no explanation. It was pitifully clear.’

Alison passed her hand over her eyes, and wondered if she were going to scream. It was like some grisly farce, having Julian so earnestly insisting on the very thing she had fought so hard to escape.

‘So that was what you meant when you said you guessed at once where I had gone last night?’ she said slowly.

‘Yes, of course. I could have shot myself when I realised what I had driven you to. I’d been so unpardonably absorbed in my own affairs and feelings during those early days,. forcing you, in my colossal vanity, to listen to my confidences as though they were the only thing that mattered.’

‘You didn’t have to force me,’ Alison said faintly and irrelevantly.

‘No, I know. You were always so sweet in your sympathy and understanding,’ he told her quickly. ‘It’s not for me-’ He hesitated, and then went on a little diffidently:

‘It’s not for me to say anything; but you’re much too dear and good for Simon too, of course. Only if it’s him you love, you must have him.’

‘I don’t love Simon,’ she said flatly, but not as though she expected very much to be believed. She was beginning to feel sick and weary again with the utter futility of argument, Besides, it seemed to all of them such a marvellous solution if she would only love Simon.

She had come to this interview prepared to be brave and magnanimous about Rosalie. and now all that was happening was that she was being gently pushed back towards Simon, by Julian himself.

‘Poor little Alison,’ Julian said gently. ‘I expect you scarcely know what your feelings are by now.’

And at that something went snap in Alison’s brain.

‘I know perfectly well what my feelings are;’ she cried, her voice quivering with anger and pain. ‘I’ve known what they were from the very first moment, You all imagine you know what I think and am and want and feel. And you don’t-not any single one of you. You’re stupid, stupid, stupid!’

And, to her horror, she burst into the flood of furious tears which she had so desperately feared.

‘Alison-’ His arms were round her in a moment.

‘Oh, let me go, let me go!’ She was struggling and sobbing, scarcely knowing what she was saying.

‘Child, child, don’t cry so. No man’s worth such tears.’

‘No, you’re right,’ she sobbed furiously. ‘No man’s worth such misery. Not you-nor anyone else.’

‘I!’ Julian was thunderstruck.

‘Yes-you, you, you!’ gasped Alison in a passion of anger and misery beyond her control. ‘Are you a perfect fool that you never guessed? You, who understand me so well-"little Alison", who must be petted and protected- Alison with her "marvellous detachment" who will listen by the hour while you talk about Rosalie-Alison who loves Simon! Oh, that’s the supreme idiocy of all! It isn’t Simon-it never was Simon. Must you have it in words of one syllable? It’s you I love! And, oh, I wish I were dead.’