Injury Time - Beryl Bainbridge [27]
‘Asking me my business,’ Alma said indignantly. ‘Demanding to know where I’d been, where I was going. Wanting to take down my address. Crawling along the kerb beside me in their nasty little car, trying to intimidate me.’
‘They’re only doing their job,’ protested Binny. ‘They probably thought you were a battered wife.’
‘Oh darling,’ cried Alma, eyelash askew and cheek dimpled with the imprint of bread crumbs. ‘How little you know. They’re not out to help me. They’re far more corrupt than those poor souls robbing jewellers shops and things. I know them. I know them.’
‘Come now,’ said Simpson sternly. ‘We were broken into last year while we were away in the South of France, and the police were marvellous, absolutely first rate.’ He looked at his wife for affirmation and was outraged to see that she was now holding Alma’s hand.
‘I pay for their cars you know, darling,’ said Alma. ‘Those things with the lights going round on top. We all do. But they don’t let me drive a car. They took my licence off me.’
‘You can hardly blame them for that,’ Binny said. ‘In the circumstances.’
‘Nonsense,’ cried Alma. ‘I was perfectly capable. You’re not a what’s it, you can’t possibly judge.’
‘I bailed her out,’ explained Binny. She felt more relaxed now that dinner was over. Muriel seemed to be enjoying the drama, and as for Simpson, he was just another Edward – too pompous for words. Men were all alike. It was not being involved with children every hour of the day that made them appear superior. She had only to bear in mind the image of Simpson going into a little cubicle to provide a cloudy specimen and she hadn’t the slightest need to feel inferior. ‘Alma was arguing with her husband and swerving all over the road when this police car came round the corner—’
‘I wasn’t swerving, darling.’
‘They booked them and everything, and then Alma said why didn’t the policeman take off his clothes, he’d be more comfortable.’
Muriel started to laugh.
‘He wasn’t a policeman, pet. He was a sergeant and very good-looking.’
‘Drunken driving is a crime,’ said Simpson stiffly. ‘It should carry the harshest penalties.’
‘What are you worried about, darling? I lost my licence, didn’t I?’ All at once Alma’s face crumpled. Tears spilled out of her ludicrous eyes.
‘You can talk, George,’ Muriel said coldly. ‘You’re only wearing one shoe.’
Alma rose unsteadily from the table and blundered towards the sofa. ‘I must lie down,’ she moaned. ‘I’ve never been to the South of France.’ She fell on to the couch. The red dress, too short, rode above her hips. Her black boots, stained by the rain, threshed among the cushions. Keening softly and scrabbling to get into a more comfortable position, she dozed off.
Edward came into the room. Seeing Alma, he hoisted his braces on to his shoulders and asked in a pained voice, ‘Didn’t you tell her we were coming?’
‘She had a row with her husband,’ said Binny. ‘It wasn’t my fault.’
‘She’s too vulnerable,’ observed Muriel, hovering anxiously about the sofa. ‘It’s in her face. She’s like a child dressed up for a party. Underneath is a pure heart struggling to come to terms with life. But then, the way the world is, what chance has she got?’
After this extraordinary question there was silence.
Finally Simpson said, ‘That’s all very fine, but put her behind the wheel of a car and she’s lethal. Lethal.’ He himself thought it was in dubious taste to compare Alma to a child. Granted her eyes and mouth seemed to have been crayoned in by a two-year-old with an unsteady hand, but in every other respect the woman was a tart.
‘She’s been to the South of France,’ said Binny. ‘Several times as a matter of fact. She was a croupier in a casino.’
‘One more drink,’ Edward said. ‘And then we’d better call it a night.’ He yawned extravagantly. ‘I’ve a meeting first thing.’ His mind was full of facts and figures, sections and clauses, though there was a small space in which he prepared to defend himself, should Binny attack him for leaving too early. He stood at the table and examined the bottles.
‘Count me out,’ said Simpson.