The Alien by Josephine Bell Read Free Book Online Page B

a feeble effort to join in.
    The conversation began to wilt. It had moved so far from her desires that she began to feel both dull and hopeless. Boris was too good, too loyal. He assumed her total fidelity to Colin. How could she begin to tell him the dreary facts of her marriage when he gave her no possible excuse to do so? If he was hiding his own feelings it was noble, but unutterably useless and frustrating. A waste, a waste, her heart beat out, nearly choking her. With all that was unspoken between them it was not surprising that his visits, his frequent visits, were becoming a bore. But it was not possible for her to break the barrier; her upbringing and her basic common sense that lay always beneath her adolescent dreams, told her that this would be fatal to her relentless hopes.
    She yawned and suggested tea. Boris said he must go. He had an appointment. It was for this he had the afternoon free to visit her on his way.
    â€œMy firm considers that we lunch from twelve until three. My appointment therefore it is fixed for four. I have all my work finished before my lunch. So—’’
    â€œI see.’’ He was clearly not going to tell her any more, Margaret decided. She got to her feet and in silence walked with him across the lawn and into the house.
    Louise was in the hall as they reached it. She acknowledged Boris’s polite bow politely.
    â€œI make the tea, Mrs. Brentwood?’’ she asked.
    â€œI thought you were going out this afternoon?’’ Margaret said, coldly, staring at her.
    â€œI have just come back. I make the tea?’’
    â€œNot just yet, thank you. Mr. Sudenic has to go now. I will have my tea at four – indoors, today. It is too hot, outside.’’
    She could not bear to go back to the garden retreat, alone.
    â€œYes, Mrs. Brentwood.’’
    Boris walked to the end of the road and got on a bus. He arrived in the City half an hour later and was shown into the offices of P. H. and W. T. Phillimore, solicitors. Stephen was already there alone in the waiting-room. Boris was a trifle uneasy and showed it.
    â€œIt’s all right,’’ Stephen said. “Very natural for you to see your solicitor about your affairs. And after all, Bill is Ann’s brother and he’s handled them since you arrived in England, hasn’t he?’’
    â€œThat is true. But this matter—’’
    â€œHas nothing to do with Bill. It seemed a good opportunity to see you and hand it over. My leave is up tonight.’’
    Stephen dipped into a brief-case he carried and taking out a revolver handed it to Boris.
    â€œI take pride in the fact that it’s just as good as new. As good as it was when you gave it to me before you left the country in 1939.’’
    â€œOh, Stephen!’’
    â€œI was tremendously proud of it at that time,’’ Stephen said, gruffly. “Of course I was under age to have such a thing. When I got into the Navy later I simply kept it in my kit. Lucky to avoid getting it pinched, I suppose. After the war I licensed it and have kept that up.’’
    â€œIt is licensed in your name?’’
    â€œThat’s right.’’
    â€œIt cannot be helped. I may keep it for now?’’
    â€œFor good, as far as I’m concerned. I told you I’d still got it because I thought, if the Commies are after you for escaping, as they may well be, it might come in useful.’’
    â€œA thousand thanks. You are a good boy, Stephen. A good friend.’’
    â€œGot anything on tonight?’’ Stephen asked, feeling that the interview was again taking too emotional a turn. “Care to have a meal with me before I go off to Portsmouth?’’
    â€œYou are very kind. Another time. I have already a date.’’
    â€œAnother time, then. Only I shan’t have any long leaves for a bit. Might slip up for the day, though.’’
    Boris put the