Through the Wall

Chapter 43

It is easy and dramatic to bring down the curtain at the end of a play, but in human affairs there is no final curtain. If one player leaves the stage, the others still have lives to live and problems to be solved. Marian and Richard found theirs an easy one. In a few days they had come to a mutual trust and understanding which in ordinary circumstances it might have taken weeks and months to reach. Each had seen the other under the pressure of fear and strain, and had found qualities of unselfishness, fortitude, and kindness. The strong attraction which had been between them from the first had brought them so close that neither could now make a plan which did not include the other. Almost without a spoken word, certainly without set question and answer, they found themselves on the footing of lovers. When, on that dreadful night whilst the search for Cassy Remington was still going on, Marian stood for a moment with Richard’s arm about her, she had the strangest feeling that they had stepped out of it all into a secret world full of beauty and light, and that this world was their own native country, in which and of which they were, and to which they could always return. In a moment he would go back and take his part in the search and she must go to Ina, but the country was theirs and they would be free of it for all their lives. They did not even kiss. They held each other and were glad, and then went back to all that must be done.

Now, when Miss Silver’s farewells had been said, they sat down to talk about plans. Since there was nothing to wait for, and every reason for being together, they would be married at once. And their home would be Ina’s-there was no problem there. It was the question of the house which had to be discussed.

Richard said, “Better wait a bit before trying to sell. Even with a housing shortage there won’t be much competition. Better wait till the story has died down.”

Marian looked out at the sunny garden. Mactavish was playing with a last year’s leaf which he had found amongst the wallflower plants. He patted it lazily. His tail was like a banner, his orange coat shone in the sun. She said without turning,

“Does that sort of story die down-just by itself?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was thinking of all the things that happen in houses- people being born, and dying, having good times and bad ones, being good and bad themselves, being miserable or being happy-and the house going on.”

“Yes?”

She turned round with colour in her cheeks.

“It’s rather like every generation putting in their own furniture-some of it’s hideous and some of it’s beautiful, and when you come in yourself you keep the good bits and get rid of the bad ones, and you bring what you’ve got of your own. I was wondering if we couldn’t just do that.”

“You mean you would like to keep the house-live in it?”

“Yes-I think so. Unless you wouldn’t like it. When you said that about the story dying down I thought we could give it a new story-a nice one. A lot of nice people have lived here, you know, as well as some nasty ones. Eliza says Uncle Martin’s wife was an angel. I feel as if I sort of owed it to the nice people to get their house clean and tidy again.”

He got up, came over to her, and put an arm about her shoulders.

“You’re rather a nice person yourself-aren’t you? I’ve got a feeling I’m going to like being married to you.” They kissed.

After a little he said, “What about Ina?”

“You know, I think she’d like to stay. I think she’d find it easier to be where everybody knows and they’re all sorry for her and want to be kind. I think it’s easier than going to a new place where one would always be wondering if people did know. Miss Silver has quite a lot of friends in this part of the world. She wants to ask some of them to come and see us. She says Mrs. March will come for one. And there’ll be Felix and Penny-”

Felix and Penny were up on the cliff. They had been silent for some time, when Penny said,

“Aunt Florence is going away tomorrow.”

He had been staring out over the sea. He turned now, frowning, and repeated her words.

“Going away?”

Penny nodded.

“Directly after the funeral. Didn’t you know?”

He shook his head.

“Why should I? She never tells me anything. How long is she going for?”

Penny said as soberly as she could,

“She isn’t coming back.”

It was difficult to hold on to the lovely light feeling which the words gave her. There must be something wrong about feeling like that when the person who had brought you up and whom you had always called Aunt Florence was going away for good, but the thought of Cove House without that heavy disapproving presence was too much for her. The words very nearly sang themselves.

Felix said, “What!” and she nodded again.

“ London first-somewhere Miss Silver told her about. And then I expect it will be a boardinghouse at Brighton. And I think she means to change her name, because letters are all to go to her bank. And anyhow she’s more or less said she doesn’t want us to write.”

Felix gave a harsh laugh.

“The clean cut! Well, that’s something to be thankful for. My God-how I have disliked that woman!”

She put her hand down over his for a moment.

“Well, you needn’t any more. I tried to love her, but I couldn’t. Let her go.”

She lifted the hand that had covered his and made a light throwing gesture with it. Let it all go-the hating and the gloom, the trouble which they had brought, the terror and the strain.

Felix watched her with a brooding look. Presently he said,

“What are we going to do?”

Penny said, “I don’t know.”

Her eyes were very clear and bright. They looked at him with a confidence which troubled him. His frown became portentous.

“I can make something out of my music. There was that song cycle for Carrington-I didn’t go on with it, but I could. He tried two of the songs, and he was rather all over them- thought they suited his voice. We had a row because I chucked it, but I daresay I could get on to him again. He wanted it for his American tour. There’s money in song writing if you make a hit, and I like doing it. I’ve got plenty of ideas again.”

“Yes-”

“My father left me a couple of hundred a year. That woman has the rest of it for her life, and she’ll probably live for ever, so it’s not good counting on anything from there.”

“You’d be all right with what you could make-”

“Yes. I was thinking about you.”

“Were you?”

He gave a jerky nod.

“Everything here belongs to Marian.”

Penny said softly, “She would let us stay-if you didn’t hate it-”

“Why should I? It’s always been a good place to work. Some places aren’t. I’ve always been able to work here. You mean you think we could stay on as we are? She’s going to marry Cunningham, isn’t she? Won’t they want the whole house?”

“I don’t think so. I think we can have-our bit-if we want it.”

All this time she hadn’t taken her eyes off him. Now she looked away out over the sea. Her eyes dazzled so that the blue of the water was mixed with the blue of the sky.

Felix said in an odd offhand voice, “I suppose-we couldn’t get married-”

“I don’t see why not.”

“You wouldn’t be getting much out of it. There would be very little money.”

Still looking away from him, she said,

“I’ve got some too, you know.”

He was so surprised that he sat up and put a hand on her shoulder.

“You! I always thought you hadn’t a farthing.”

“I hadn’t. Uncle Martin gave me some. He settled it on me. I didn’t know until he told me last year when I was twenty-one. It’s-it’s quite a lot. He said not to tell anyone, so I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to go away, and if they had known it, it would have been very difficult to stay.”

“You didn’t tell me.” His tone accused her.

Her eyelids fell. He saw the lashes wet against her cheek.

“You were away.”

He wasn’t stupid. He knew very well how far away he had been. He wanted her to know that he had come back, and that he never wanted to go away again. He couldn’t find the right words. His grip bruised her shoulder.

“If you’ve got-enough-without me-”

Penny said in a small, quiet voice,

“I’d never have enough without you.”

He said with a groan,

“It would be better for you. When I’m working I shan’t even know whether you’re there.”

“But I’d be there-if you wanted me. And you will.”

“Penny-” He choked on the name. “I’ve got a brute of a temper.”

The wet lashes lifted. She turned round to him with her hands out, laughing and crying.

“Darling, I’ve lived with it for twenty years. I expect I can go on.”