The Red Cliffs (24 page)

He made a botch of cutting bread. Sleepy as she was, Alison had to laugh at him.

“
You
’
re hopeless,
”
she said.

“
I admit it
’
s not a very ladylike sandwich,
”
he said, offering it to her on a plate.
“
May I make one for myself?
”

“
Yes, do,
”
she said.
“
We
’
ll have a picnic—if I can keep awake.
”

He poured the re-heated coffee into two large cups, and they sat at the kitchen table together. Apparently the coffee had a slightly stimulating effect on Alison, for she suddenly said:

“
What are you doing here, Neil, at this hour?
”

“
Looking after you, it seems.
”

“
You know what I mean.
”

“
I was coming home from a long journey, and your light was shining on the wall of the house. I thought perhaps you had forgotten to switch off, but I also thought something might be amiss. And as you know I can
’
t help interfering.
”
She grimaced at this reference to her past accusations.
“
Seriously, Alison, you gave me a fright.
”

“
I
’
m sorry,
”
she said.
“
I should have stopped before I was as tired as that.
”
She finished her
sandwich.
“
Oh, that was good, Neil. Thank you.
”

“
Now off to bed with you.
”

“
I
’
m almost too tired to get there,
”
she said, smiling.

“
That
’
s easily remedied.
”
He took her hands and pulled her up from her chair. Then he lifted her easily into his arms and made for the door and the staircase.

“
No, no, Neil,
”
she whispered urgently.

“
Yes, yes, Alison,
”
he whispered back.

“
Put me down at once. Of course I can get to bed.
”

He carried her up the stairs. Alison had an uncomfortable picture in her mind of Corinne appearing at the top of the stairs, but this did not happen. Neil carried her to the door of her room and set her gently down there.

“
This is yours?
”
he whispered.

“
Yes.
”

“
Then goodnight, Alison. I
’
ll turn off the lights and close the door. Sleep well.
”

“
Goodnight, Neil, and thank you.
”

In the dimness of the light reflected from below, she looked into his eyes and could not look away. He took her closely into his arms again and kissed her, and without a moment
’
s hesitation, she gave herself up to that kiss. She had a sensation almost of falling: into a deep, exquisite peace, into a content that seemed to open and expand like a flower, into a smooth untroubled sleep
.
She scarcely knew now what she was doing. Somehow she got to bed and at last rested her head on the pillow, but she could not remember Neil
’
s going, did not hear him shut the door or start his car. She slept, unmoving, undreaming, for hours, and woke refreshed long after she should have been at her office, to find Corinne standing at her bedside with a breakfast tray.

“
Heavens,
”
she said, glancing at the clock,
“
I haven
’
t got time for breakfast, Corinne. Why didn
’
t you wake me?
”

“
You have plenty of time for breakfast. I
’
ve already rung up Mr. Deeprose and he says it will be
all right if you go in after lunch. Neil rang me and suggested I should let you sleep—otherwise I shouldn
’
t have known how naughty you are.
”

She put the breakfast tray before Alison. Smells of bacon and coffee were delicious.

“
What luxury,
”
said Alison.
“
What did you tell Harvey?
”

“
That you had a headache. If you haven
’
t, you ought to have. But, darling, your Madonna is so beautiful that you ought not to be working for Harvey at all. You ought to spend all your
time in your workshop—but only the days, not the nights.
”

Corinne went away, and Alison settled down to the unusual luxury of breakfast in bed. The window was wide open to the view of the sea and cliffs, and the air that blew in from the sea seemed as heady as wine. For a long time she could not quite trace back to its source the wonderful well-being that filled her; but little by little, as she went over the events of the previous evening and night, she found an explanation.

Partly, the well-being was caused by her satisfaction in her work. It was like no other satisfaction, this of feeling that she had achieved something good. It was so rare to feel everything going right, to see the line emerge pure and clean that even in her mind had been hesitant and doubtful; to feel, for once, powerful and confident instead of fumbling and anxious.

That was not all, however. There was something else contributing to her happiness this morning. Something else, for once, had gone right. She and Neil had come face to face without anything troublesome between them. He had been kind and considerate. He had helped her tactfully without overstepping any limit. She went over their meeting, from the moment of her waking to find him beside her, to the moment of his leaving her at her bedroom door, his kiss still warm on her lips. She remembered the feeling of expansion, of flowering, and realised that it was still with her this morning. She was impatient to see him again, and had to remind herself that he did not necessarily feel the same. After all, what had happened? He had given her a goodnight kiss. Many other men had done the same, at one time or another, but she had never before taken it as an augury of a wholesale change in her life. Because it was important to her, it did not have to be important to him too.

Alison checked her thoughts at that point. Was it important to her? she wondered; and felt again the delight at being held closely in his arms, the happiness of being kissed in just that way. It was no good deceiving herself: it had never been like that with Ralph or anybody else. It had never been so right before. She knew that she was in love.

What could she hope for from that? she wondered. Perhaps, if she had not been filled so full of prejudice at the beginning, something might have been early established between herself and Neil; but now there was Corinne to be considered—no mean rival. But her thoughts would not stay on Corinne. Later, perhaps, she would be unable to keep her out, but for this moment it was enough for Alison to feel herself truly in love.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Corinne was in Paris visiting her parents, who had recently returned to the capital from holiday in the south-west. She had a
s
ked Alison to go with her, but Alison had less than a week of her holiday still due to her and did not think the expense of the trip was warranted. She intended, while Corinne was away, to get on with her work, to explore the countryside in her own small car, to take
a picnic
to the beach and swim, and in general to make the most of her time.

It seemed that Corinne had widely advertised the fact that she was going away, for several invitations showered in on Alison: dinner one evening with Neil and friends, lunch with the vicar and his wife, a birthday dance for somebody else. But one person Alison was sure had not been advised of her lonely state was soon upon the scene. Roger always seemed to know as soon as she was alone in the house.

He also knew that Alison was on holiday for a few days and immediately suggested some trips and entertainments.

“
No, Roger,
”
said Alison firmly.
“
I will not be tempted. I must get on with my work. I
’
m always behind with it.
”

“
That
’
s all right,
”
he said, accommodating himself at once to her plans.
“
You work and I
’
ll tidy up the garden for you; and I
’
ll get lunch ready for you.
”

He would not listen to her protests and Alison found him as difficult as ever to shake off. It was true that he was handy in the kitchen and produced a very good lunch, which he laid in the garden room and served with a good deal of panache. There were times when he could be so amusing and charming that Alison began to wonder if she were judging him on a temporary apse, but she was never now quite at ease with him. It was always a relief when he went away, and several times she would have hidden from his arrival in the upper part of the house, but that the car in the garage, and various open windows, suggested that she could not be far away.

He was, however, on his best behaviour. He was still living, on and off, he said, at Mrs. Simms
’
house, but he had been for a holiday in jersey. He seemed to know all that Alison had been doing during the summer, and she realised that the smalltown grapevine, allied to his own espionage system, left little that was private to herself.

“
And is your friend Corinne going to marry Neil?
”
he asked at supper one evening.

“
I haven
’
t heard anything of it,
”
said Alison.

“
It
’
s very much talked of in the town, and in Neil
’
s works,
”
said Roger.

Alison was not to be caught so easily into a betrayal of her own feelings on the matter.

“
I suppose Neil is in Paris, too?
”
asked Roger.

That did surprise her. It was true that Neil was away for a few days, but she had not, for a moment, connected his trip with Corinne
’
s. Roger told her that everybody else in the town connected them, and Alison wondered why she had not thought of it. What more likely than that Neil should go to Paris, too?

She intended one fine morning to elude Roger. Not being about very early in the morning, he rarely reached Combe Russet before noon, and Alison had her lunch and her swimming things in the car by half-past ten, and was turning from the drive into the narrow lane, exultant at having missed him, when his bicycle approached from the opposite direction. There was no alternative but to slow down, and once he had seen the things in the car, very little chance of still eluding him.

“
Off to the sea?
”
he asked.

“
Yes.
”

“
Meeting somebody?
”

She was sorely tempted to say that she was, but the lie would not be uttered. With a sigh, she saw her peaceful day vanish. Roger went with her, and, unwillingly, she had to admit that it had been an enjoyable time. They swam together. He was undeniably handsome in his bold, dark fashion. Alison thought he needed gold ear-rings in his ears—he already had the dark, flashing eyes and the white, flashing teeth. They divided her lunch and supplemented it with fruit and chocolate bought en route; and when they returned to Combe Russet, Roger took it for granted that he would stay and help her prepare and eat supper.

“
There
’
s something to be said for domesticity,
”
said Roger, when, all the dishes washed and the coffee made, they sat in the living room before the first fire of the autumn.

“
Not for you, surely,
”
said Alison.
“
You
’
re not quite the domestic type.
”

“
I never used to be, but things have happened to change me.
”

“
Your comfortable life at Mrs. Simms
’
,
”
she guessed.

“
No. Partly, I suppose, one is more inclined to settle down as one gets older. But chiefly, I
’
m in love.
”

Alison was alarmed, but refused to show it. She sipped her coffee pensively.

“
I think you know it very well, Alison,
”
he said.
“
I
’
ve been in love with you ever since I saw you here, and I was idiot enough to make you disapprove of me. But I
’
ve lived that down by now, Alison, haven
’
t I? You
’
ve had absolutely nothing else to reproach me with, have you?
”

“
Of course not, Roger,
”
she said unhappily.

And I love you terribly, Alison. Will you marry me? I swear that I
’
ll always be good to you and care for you and look after you. We could have wonderful times together, Alison.
”

“
Oh, Roger, I
’
ve never given you any reason to suppose that I would marry you.
”

“
Nor any reason to suppose that you wouldn
’
t,
”
he said.
“
You do like me, Alison. Wouldn
’
t you say that you love me, too, a little?
”

“
I can
’
t say that, Roger. I don
’
t love you, and really I can
’
t marry you.
”

“
Alison, don
’
t say that. Darling, do marry me,
I’
m quite sure I could make you happy.
”

“
I
’
m sure you couldn
’
t, Roger,
”
she said. It was obvious that the time had come for plain speaking now.

“
Why do you say that? Are you in love with somebody else?
”

“
I say it because we are quite different kinds of people. The things that are important to me you don
’
t care about at all
...”

“
Such as?
”
asked Roger.

“
Well—the life of the mind, the books and music
...”

He made an impatient exclamation.

“
My work,
”
she went on.
“
You called it little wooden toys
...”

“
There you are! You judge me by one unfortunate lapse. Of course I don
’
t think of your work like that.
”

“
I think you do,
”
she said.
“
But, that apart, I don
’
t love you and I won
’
t marry you.
”

“
You don
’
t mean it, Alison.
”

“
I do mean it.
”

“
We could leave it for a while, and be engaged later—when we know each other better. Alison, I love you and long for you.
”

“
It will never be any different, Roger. You may as well know the truth and accept it. I will never marry you.
”

“
Because you
’
re in love with somebody else. Is it Neil Edgerton?
”

“
Now why on earth should it be Neil? You
’
ve already practically married him off to Corinne. I have plenty of other friends, of longer and more intimate standing.
”

He thought of Ralph and knew that Ralph would marry her tomorrow, given the opportunity, but his jealous mind still would not entirely relinquish the idea of Neil. He knew that she went to Neil
’
s house to dinner and lunch, he knew that Neil was sometimes at the cottage. It was true that his name was linked with Corinne
’
s, but Roger was not satisfied.

“
You would never have anything to do with Neil,
”
he said.
“
Not after the way he treated Tom.
”

“
You have Neil on the brain
,”
she said impatiently.

“
Have you?
”
he asked angrily.

“
No, no, no!
”
she said.

He was silent, keeping himself in check. He did not want to throw everything away if there was the slightest chance of her changing her mind. He sat looking into the fire, saying nothing, and his silence became oppressive.

“
I
’
m very sorry, Roger,
”
said Alison at last.

“
I can
’
t accept it as final,
”
he said, and he looked so miserable that, against her common sense, she felt sorry for him.

“
But it is final, and you must make up your mind to it,
”
she said.
“
I don
’
t love you and I can
’
t marry you.
”

There was a quietness about her that told him she meant it. Anger welled up in him, and he resolutely pushed it down. He was determined not to make a scene until he had had time to think this over. Alison glanced at the clock.

“
Forgive me, Roger, but it really is time for you to go.
”
She rose to her feet.
“
I
’
m terribly sorry about all this, but really, you know, it would never do; it would never be a success.
”

“
I
’
m sure it would be,
”
he muttered. He rose as well and allowed her to shepherd him to the door. In the hall, he took her into his arms and kissed her passionately, but if he hoped by this, to change her, he was doomed to disappointment. For nothing showed her more plainly how little she liked him. She watched him go along the path, surprised to have got rid of him so easily, wondering if he could be hatching a plan of future attack, but relieved that he had gone.

There was no word from him for the next few days, and she allowed herself to hope that that was the end of the matter. Her last days of holiday were sunny, uncluttered ones. She rose, ate and worked when she felt like it, keeping no settled times. She day-dreamed a good deal of Neil, losing herself in recollection, but beginning now to be plagued by jealous, uncomfortable thoughts of Corinne. She knew that Neil was back, having seen his car pass the cottage at speed, but had not so far met him.

When she did, she was astonished to find him very angry, looking so like the Neil of the early days that she wondered momentarily if she had imagined all that went between. He came purposefully round the side of the house when she was sitting with late after-lunch coffee, and a scribbling pad on her knee, at peace with the world—and shattered her peace.

“
Alison,
”
he said.
“
How could you have been so careless? Do you know what you have done?
”

“
I haven
’
t the least idea,
”
she said in astonishment.

“
Then come and see,
”
he said, and could scarcely wait for her to put her things down and rise to her feet, before he was off to the gate that led from her kitchen garden into a field. In this field, one which he rented from her, he kept a herd of bullocks, immense creatures of which Alison was frightened. She would never have gone through it alone, but now she followed Neil, keeping a wary eye on the bullocks, to the opposite gate that led to a very large field of barley. At this gate, Neil stopped and waited for her to look beyond him.