Bleeding Heart Square by Andrew Taylor Read Free Book Online Page A

herself much hungrier than usual and ordered cutlets and peas, with plum pie and custard to follow. It would cost her half a crown, plus perhaps a tip. In the last forty-eight hours, she had become conscious about money in a way she had never been before. Soon she would have to sell some jewelry.
    While she was waiting for her cutlets, she returned to the crossword in The Times . Instead of attempting the clues, however, she jotted down items on a shopping list. Tea. Milk. Bread. As she was wondering whether she should economize and buy margarine rather than butter, somebody brushed her arm.
    "Excuse me," a man said. "Do you mind if I join you? All the other tables are full."
    She looked up and saw the young man who had come to inquire about the vacant flat. She had seen him in the cafe before, of course, so perhaps he worked nearby. She nodded and went back to her shopping list. He sat down and ordered the cutlets as well. After a moment, he cleared his throat.
    "I say, I don't mean to interrupt, but didn't I see you earlier today at that house in Bleeding Heart Square?"
    She looked up. His face was long and bony, with strongly marked eyebrows arching over the unexpectedly blue eyes. There was a small red scab on his jawbone, as if he had nicked himself while shaving that morning. No one could call him handsome but it was a face you could look at more than once. Should you wish to do so, of course.
    "Yes--you came to ask about the flat upstairs."
    He nodded. "What's it like? Have you seen it?"
    "No." She crumbled her roll and allowed her eyes to drift back to The Times .
    "Curious name, isn't it?"
    "Bleeding Heart Square?"
    "Yes--do you know where it comes from?"
    She shook her head.
    "That's what I like about London," he went on, showing no sign of discouragement. "These old corners with layers of history attached to them. They seem to exist in more dimensions than most places do."
    "What do you mean?"
    "I'm not quite sure I know. I suppose I mean it exists in time as well as space. So there's always more to it than there seems. Only you don't quite know what."
    She burst out laughing, not so much at what he said, though that was ridiculous enough, but at his face, whose features had realigned themselves into an expression of mock horror. Rather to her relief, the waitress arrived with her cutlets, which gave her the opportunity to break off the conversation. She ate a few mouthfuls and returned to the crossword.
    "Not shown by game birds (two words) (5, 7)." The answer came to her in a pleasing flash. "White feather." She penciled the words into the grid and wondered how the man made his living. His own lunch arrived and for a few minutes they ate in silence. He could be worse, Lydia conceded--at least his table manners were reasonable. His hands were clean but his arms were too long for his sleeves, and the cuffs of his shirt were frayed and slightly grubby.
    He coughed. "I don't know if I should mention this, but six down is 'hostile.'"
    Startled, she looked up.
    "Sorry," he said, and his face became a clown-like mask of unhappiness. "It's a bad habit. I can't help reading things upside down. Actually, it's one of the more useful things I learned at school."
    "I was looking at the clues across first, actually." Nevertheless she filled in the solution to six down.
    "It's very trusting of you," he said. "May I see it the right way up? Just to make sure."
    There was no help for it. Lydia pushed the newspaper toward him. He would see her embryonic shopping list in the margin of the newspaper. The forced intimacy suddenly jarred on her. It was as though she were a silly little shopgirl, and he were trying to pick her up. Why the hell had she found the man interesting? Perfectly pleasant in his way, no doubt, but--well, not to mince one's words--rather common.
    "Yes," he said. "'An exclamation at a crossing place is not friendly.' 'Ho' and 'stile,' you see. It can't be anything else."
    Her pudding arrived. She ate it quickly