The Death of the Heart - Elizabeth Bowen [31]
This was a moment Thomas had seen coming, and he had awaited it philosophically. He had looked on at other declines and falls. He did not at that time dislike Eddie, whose efforts to please him pleased by their very transparency. He had watched, not without pleasure, Eddie annoy St. Quentin and others of their friends. He had also read Eddie's novel with a good deal of pleasure, and more sympathy than Anna had brought to it: Eddie was still free to say a good deal about life that he, Thomas, was too deeply involved to say. So Thomas had read the novel with an appeased smile, almost with a sense of complicity. He passed on the book to Merrett, who, liking its savage glitter, pigeonholed Eddie for possible future use. This was well, for the time came when Anna announced to Thomas that what Eddie needed was straight, regular work, that need not quite waste his wits—in fact, could they not use Eddie in Quayne and Merrett's? The moment happening to be propitious, Eddie was sent for for an interview.
The day Anna heard that Quayne and Merrett were prepared to give Eddie three months' trial, she rang Eddie up and asked him to come round. Their relation, from now on, promised to be ideal: she was his patroness.
That morning Eddie was wearing a sober tie, and already seemed to belong to another world. His manner was civil, and extremely remote. He said how kind they had been at Quayne and Merrett's, and what fun it would no doubt be to write funny advertisements. "How can I thank you?" he said.
"Why should you? I wanted to help."
Eddie met her smile with an equally pious look.
She went on: "I have been worried about you: that's what may have made me seem unsympathetic. I felt sure you needed a more regular life. Thomas thinks I am bad for you," she added, rather unwisely.
"I don't think that's possible, darling," said Eddie blithely. Then he bit off that manner. "You've both been so good," he said. "I do hope I haven't been difficult? When I'm worried I seem to get everything on my nerves. And all the jobs I've been after turned me down flat. I really did begin to think there was something against me—which was stupid, of course."
"But have you been looking for jobs?"
"What did you think I'd been doing, all this time? I didn't tell you about it, partly because it depressed me, partly because I thought you'd think it was sordid. All my friends seem to be rather out with me at the moment, so I didn't like to go round to them for backing. And of course, I owe a good deal of money—apart from everything else, I owe thirty-five shillings to Denis's charwoman."
"Denis should not have left you with an expensive charwoman," Anna angrily said. "He never thinks. But surely you've had some money?"
"Well, I had till I spent it."
"What have you been eating?"
"Oh, one thing and another. I must say, I was grateful for your very nice lunches and dinners. I do hope I wasn't snappy at meals? But being anxious gives me indigestion. I'm not like St. Quentin and Denis and all those other people that you see—I'm afraid I haven't got very much detachment, darling, and getting nothing to do made me feel in disgrace."
"You might have known we would help you. How silly you were!"
"Yes, I thought you probably might," said Eddie, with perfect candour. "But in a sort of way I rather hated to ask, and while you had it on me, it made it more difficult. However, look how lucky I am now!"
Anna collected herself. "I'm so glad to know," she said, "that what has been the matter was simply money. I was afraid, you know, it was really you and me."
"Unfortunately," said Eddie, "it was a good deal more."
"I should rather call it a good deal less. To be right or wrong with people is the important thing."
"I expect it would be if you had got money. However, Anna, you've got beautiful thoughts. It must have done me good to know you. But I'm not really interesting, darling: I'm all stomach."
"Well, I'm so pleased that everything is all right," Anna said with a slightly remote smile. She got up from the sofa and went to lean on the