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By Root 231 0

a clinging low-necked blue silk sweater and a pair of white knickerbockers. Yet although her appearance was that of a large rich teenager about to be taken off in somebody’s car for an evening at a smart discothèque, she was as assiduous as ever in her attentions to her mother whose conversation was apparently all that she required by way of social stimulus. Edith continued to watch as the napkins were flourished, the wine poured, the bread broken, the soup savoured with much closing of the eyes in delicate appreciation; they were apparently unaware, Edith noted, that there was anyone else in the room but themselves or that the meal had been prepared for any other purpose than to assuage their own unassailable appetites.

Taking coffee in the salon, Edith found herself treated a little distantly by Mrs Pusey. Perhaps her return earlier that evening with Mr Neville had been noted, and filed away without comment. In any event, Edith was obliged to listen to Mrs Pusey’s plans, which were, as usual, extensive, without being awarded any interest in her own. Reciprocity was a state unknown to Mrs Pusey, whose imperative need for social dominance, once assured by her beauty and the mute presence of an adoring husband, had now to be enforced by more brutal means. Not that there was anything brutal in her charming recital of the labours of packing that awaited them – the very thought gave her a headache – and the arrangements that had yet to be made with her housekeeper, who would dispatch a car to meet them at Heathrow, and who would have a light supper ready on trays for Mrs Pusey and Jennifer to eat in Mrs Pusey’s bedroom.

‘I’m a wreck after travelling,’ confided Mrs Pusey to Edith.

‘Yet you’ve done so much,’ Edith replied.

‘Yes, well, I owed it to my husband. He wouldn’t go anywhere without me. Said he couldn’t bear to be away from me, the silly man.’

She laughed reminiscently. ‘And it becomes a habit, you know. Of course, I couldn’t do it without Jennifer. And she’s still willing to put up with her old mother, aren’t you, darling?’

Again the loving clasp of hands, the kiss, the radiant smiles. Yet Edith had seen Jennifer looking, for her, almost thoughtful, her normally indifferent expression less well-intentioned than usual. But with the loving exchange this was wiped away. I must have imagined it, thought Edith. I am morbid this evening.

‘When will you leave?’ she asked.

‘Oh, we’ll stay until the end of next week, if they’ll put up with us.’ Again, a little laugh.

‘I…’ she began, but was interrupted by Mrs Pusey’s cry, ‘Why, there’s Philip! Where have you been, you naughty man? Jennifer thought you’d-abandoned us. Darling, get Philip some fresh coffee. Why were you so late?’

‘I had some calls to make,’ he said, surrendering to her demands with every appearance of alacrity. ‘And the lines seemed to be permanently engaged.’

‘Business calls, I suppose,’ said Mrs Pusey, with an understanding tilt of her head. ‘I know. My husband always had to make his calls, wherever we were. I used to threaten to have the telephone removed sometimes. “Never mix business with pleasure,” I used to say to him. Not that he ever let business come first, not when he had me with him, anyway.’

‘Certain arrangements always have to be made,’ said Mr Neville with a smile.

‘Arrangements? That sounds as if you’re going to leave us. Jennifer! Philip’s going to leave us on our own.’

Jennifer looked up from her nails and gave a brief smile.

‘I shall be leaving the day after tomorrow,’ said Mr Neville in a neutral voice.

‘Then we must make the most of you while we can,’ cried Mrs Pusey. ‘I hope you don’t intend to disappear again tomorrow. We waited ages for you this morning, didn’t we, darling?’

Clearly, thought Edith, I am to be invisible until I agree to his terms. And he is right. This is what it is like, and what it will always be like, if I don’t marry him. This is what he is letting me see. Very well. But first there is something I must do.

In the silence that ensued, she recognized that the moment of decision had arrived.

She stood up.