The Angel in the Corner - Monica Dickens [83]
Joe pulled the paper from under her hands and crumpled it up. ‘Forget it,’ he said. ‘I’m not getting another factory job. I’ve had that. Do you think that’s the best I can do? I thought you were so ambitious for me.’
‘I am, darling. I know you can get anywhere you want to. But in the meantime – well, I didn’t think you minded the work so much, and we were so happy, both with our jobs, and not having to worry about money. I thought you –’
‘You think too much about what’s good for me and what isn’t,’ Joe said sulkily. ‘And about money too. That’s because you’ve never wanted for it. Why do you worry all the time about money? There’s always some around if you know how to pick it up. You worried yourself sick when that apology for a horse lost some of your savings, but didn’t I go out next day and start earning ten quid a week? I could do it again, any day I want, but I’m not going to kill myself for it next time. I’ll look around for a while and see what turns up.’
‘I’m not worrying,’ Virginia said cheerfully. ‘I’m glad about it in a way, because it will give you more time to get on with your book. The publishers sounded a bit impatient in their last letter. You ought to send them something more in case they lose interest. How much more have you done? You never tell me anything about it. How is it coming?’
‘Oh hell, Jin, don’t nag me about it. You can’t drive an author to work. I’ll get down to it when I’ve had a bit of rest. I haven’t been in the mood lately, even if I’d had the time. It’ll get done, if you’ll only leave me alone.’
It was all there in the locked drawer, waiting for him to take up the story again. He could pick it up any time, and once he got over that sticky bit, he could probably finish it in three weeks, if he kept at it and had enough whisky on hand. No hurry. He might start on it after Sandown. The meeting was next week, and he could go along with Ed. Good thing he had had the sense to smack poor old Frank in the face before Sandown.
*
Virginia was trying to make Joe go with her to a party which was being given by Lady Beautiful. It was to be a large party, with dinner and dancing in a private ballroom at a smart hotel. All the office staff would be there, together with outside contributors, advertisers, artists, fashion designers, hairdressers, beauty experts – what a crew! Joe could not see himself there. He had not got a dinner jacket.
‘That’s no excuse,’ Virginia said. ‘You can hire one. Lots of people do.’
‘Not those sort of people. It wouldn’t fit me, and they’d say: “There goes Virginia’s husband in a rented tuxedo. Poor girl. Isn’t it sad for her?”’
‘Not nearly as sad as if you don’t come.’ Virginia was sitting on his knee, trying to coax him out of his antipathy towards the party and everything connected with the magazine. ‘Everyone wants to meet you. They keep asking me about you. They couldn’t understand why you didn’t come to the cocktail party for Archie’s birthday.’
‘Straight from Croydon in a pair of oily dungareees. That would have been charming.’
‘They’ll begin to think I haven’t got a husband,’ Virginia said sadly, stroking the hard line of his jaw. ‘The other women’s husbands will all be there. I’ve seen most of them, and there’s not one as attractive as you. I’ll be so proud of you. Come with me, Joe. I don’t want to go alone.’
He shook his head. He had taken his stand, and he was not going to be persuaded to change his mind. He did not want to have anything to do with this other world into which Virginia fitted so well. He did not want to see her there, belonging with that