A Game of Hide and Seek by Elizabeth Taylor, Caleb Crain Read Free Book Online Page A

personality so sharp that her own seemed to be nothing. She was only eyes looking at Vesey and heart recording her confusion.
    â€˜It has been an experience,’ said Deirdre at last, putting her knife and fork together.
    Going back in the bus, Vesey seemed abstracted. He sat in the seat next to Harriet with his arms round the basket of shopping, his fingers fringing his bus-ticket, his eyes narrowed at the tunnel of branches through which they wound their way. In those days, trees laced together above many a road; buses took perilous journeys, with twigs scratching at either side; cars, meeting them, backed up into gateways. The bus-conductor was like the conductor of an orchestra. He guided the conversation, drew out the shy or bored or tired, linked the passengers together, strangers spoke to one another through him; on the last bus of the day it was he who controlled the badinage, helped the drunks up and down the steps, chose his butt and his allies, and made a whole thing out of an assortment. This afternoon, heat and the dullness of the hour discouraged him. A few words about Joseph’s haircut and he subsided disconsolately, whistling through his teeth. When a woman began to shell the peas which she had bought in the market into her straw hat, he sat down beside her to help.
    Harriet watched the woman’s plump hands deftly cracking open the pods, stripping the peas into her upturned hat, the calm accuracy of her wrist and fingers, the unhurried pace; and, beside her, the man’s clumsiness, the sudden bursting open of the pods, his groping on the slatted floor for the peas which bounced about the bus like bullets. Each empty shuck went over the woman’s shoulder and out of the window.
    â€˜It is like Hansel and Gretel ,’ Harriet whispered.
    Vesey looked slowly, uncomprehendingly at her, as if he were returning from some remote place, surprised to find her at his side.
    â€˜The trail of pea-shucks,’ she tried to explain.
    He turned his head to look. ‘The birds will devour them,’ he said. ‘Nothing will ever be known of our whereabouts.’
    The long tunnel of leaves began to look impenetrable; each turn of the road revealed only greenness. His face reflected a greenish pallor.
    Joseph knelt at the window looking out, humming tunelessly. Deirdre slumped back, watching, as if she were hypnotised, the woman shelling the peas.
    â€˜It has been lovely . . .’ Harriet began, but her stammer caught at the words and she looked away, out of the window, her throat moving – he could see – with embarrassment, so that she was unable to continue.
    â€˜What has been lovely, my dear girl?’ he asked.
    She pressed the palms of her hands close together between her knees. ‘It will be so dull when you go back,’ she said with sudden bravery, and resolve.
    Considering the changes, the promise, of his own near future, he did not know how to answer what seemed the obvious truth without condescension or discouragement.
    â€˜You will be all right,’ he said, smiling, denying her any comfort.
    â€˜If Mother asks us,’ Deirdre suddenly turned round to enquire, ‘what do we say we had for lunch?’
    â€˜That you had tomatoes and potatoes and peas. And bread.’
    â€˜Suppose she says why only that?’
    â€˜You will say “We thought you wouldn’t like us to have meat”.’
    Deirdre rehearsed this under her breath.
    â€˜Then you will be telling the truth,’ Vesey said, with his careless smile.
    â€˜I didn’t have any bread,’ Joseph said, coming away from the window which was all steamed over with his breath.
    Caroline was back from her meeting in time for high tea.
    â€˜My poor little boy!’ she said to Joseph, smoothing his cropped head. ‘Harriet, don’t run away.’
    â€˜I ought to go,’ Harriet said, sitting down.
    â€˜This is prison fare,’ said Deirdre casually,