The Death of the Heart - Elizabeth Bowen [108]
Then he turned full on Portia, across the table, his frantic swimming eyes. He said loudly: "Darling, what shall I do? I am behaving so badly. What shall I do?" Then he dropped his eyes, giggled and struck a match and burnt the long spill with his name on it in lipstick.
"There I go," he said: the ash dropped on the table and Eddie blew some about and ground the rest with his thumb. "I'd go," he said, "but I don't know where there's a train."
"We'll ask," Portia said. She got up and stood waiting.
"Well, goodbye, everybody, I've got to get back to London. Goodbye, goodbye: thanks ever so much."
But: "It's no use your saying goodbye," said Dickie contemptuously. "You must get back to Waikiki to get your things—if you can remember where that is? You also said that your train was at ten o'clock; it is now five minutes past eight. It is therefore no use your saying goodbye here. Hi, look here, you all: are you all going? Someone must wait for Cecil."
Eddie went white and said: "Well, you organise Cecil, blast you: let Portia organise me. That's the way we get drunks home."
The three other girls, at these words, scurried ahead like rabbits. Portia turned away to the yellow curtains: she got two apart and wrenched open the glass doors. A gash of dark air fell into the room; several people shivered and looked round. She stepped on to the balcony hanging over the black sea, lit by the windows' muffled yellow light. In a minute, Eddie came after her: he looked round the dark and said: "Where are you? Are you still here?"
"Here I am."
"That's right: don't go over the edge."
Eddie leaned on the frame of another window, folded his arms and broke out into sobbing: against the window she saw his shoulders shake. Someone sobbing like that must not be gone near.
VIII
THE DIARY
Monday.
This morning Mrs. Heccomb did not say anything, as though yesterday had been all my dream. I have gone on with the puzzle, it has been knocked, so part that I did is undone and I could not begin again where I left off. Perhaps it is in the way in the sun porch? Daphne did not say anything more either. It is raining, but more dark than it rains.
Tuesday.
When I woke, it rained as much as it could, it has stopped now and the esplanade looks shiny. Mrs. Heccomb and I went into Toyne's this morning, to buy clips to stop things blowing away, and coming out of Toyne's she looked as though she was going to say something but she did not, perhaps she was not going to. On wet days the street smells much more of salt. This afternoon we went to tea with some people to talk about the church fete and they said what a pity I should not be there. It will be in June, by June I wonder what will have happened?
Wednesday.
It is queer to be in a place when someone has gone. It is not two other places, the place that they were there in,and the place that was there before they came. I can't get used to this third place or to staying behind.
Mrs. Heccomb has a new piano pupil in Southstone, and took me in there when she went to give the lesson. I waited for her on a seat on the cliff. I saw the flags on the East Cliff Pavilion, but did not go near that.
Thursday.
Daphne says Cecil is hurt with me. And she says Eddie burnt a hole in the eiderdown Cecil's mother lent for his bed, which has made an awkward position with Cecil's mother. Daphne says it cannot be helped but she does think I ought to know.
Friday.
I got a letter from Eddie, so did Mrs. Heccomb, he says to her he will always have memories of here. She showed me the letter and said wasn?t it nice, but still did not say any more about Eddie. She looked once as if she was going to but she did not, perhaps she was not really going to.
Cecil came this evening and said he had had an internal chill. I do not think he is really hurt with me.
Saturday.
Last week this was the day Eddie was coming. Dickie is kindly taking me into Southstone to watch that ice hockey, Clara is coming too and we shall go in her car. Daphne and Evelyn are going to dance