... It's not long, is it?"
"It's long enough. They're easy to fly. I'm more worried about the French."
"I meant it's not long ... not long to go if you didn't come back."
"Of course I'll come back. I'm indestructible."
Charlotte touched his cheek with the tips of her fingers.
"Why did you change your mind about me?"
Gregory shifted his weight on the pillow.
"Perhaps I shouldn't have done. Do you mind?"
"Mind? Oh no ... Don't frown so much. It's all right."
He seemed unable to change his anxious expression.
"I wanted to help you," she said.
"I wanted to make you feel better."
When Gregory had gone for his train Charlotte coaxed the bathroom geyser into noisy take-off. She supposed she would now have to pay attention to Daisy's contraceptive lectures: she had managed to avert her eye when Daisy hoisted her skirt, planted her foot on the edge of the bath and demonstrated the art of douching; she had discreetly thrown away an unsolicited gift of something called Volpar Gels.
Charlotte did not bother to straighten the bed, but, bathed and in a clean nightdress, slipped beneath the still-warm covers and felt her body plunging towards sleep. There was hardly a moment to think about what she had done or how it had differed from her long-held apprehension.
Why was I so fearful? She had time only to phrase the question to herself before sleep unpicked its grammar.
In her brief bodily paradise Charlotte did not hear Daisy and Sally noisily attack the bathroom in the morning, nor their clattering departure for work, nor even Terence's bumbling from room to room.
Her own alarm clock had remained unset in the preoccupying pleasures of her going to bed.
She awoke when the noise of a car horn in the street penetrated her still open bedroom window.
She had been profoundly happy in her healing sleep, and was disorientated when she sat up. It was almost half past ten. She flew across the room and pulled on her clothes in an ecstasy of fumbled fastenings. Smoothing her skirt, pushing a comb into her hair, she rushed out of the flat with her toothbrush still in her mouth. She hailed a taxi and swallowed the toothpaste as she sat in the back of the cab, dabbing on some powder and checking the results in the mirror of her compact. She let herself into Dr. Wolf's building and ran up the stairs. His consulting room door was closed, so Charlotte settled at her desk and began to open the letters.
After about twenty minutes Dr. Wolf's door opened and a young man in army uniform came out, smiled at Charlotte and made his way towards the stairs.
"Ah. Miss. Gray." Dr. Wolf's head appeared from his room.
"How nice to see you. Is everything all right?"
Charlotte began to apologise. She had forgotten to set the alarm, she told him; but without the crucial events that preceded this amnesia, the story did not sound good.
Dr. Wolf said, "I see."
"I'm sure I can catch up. I won't go out at lunchtime. I'll make sure everything's up to date. I'm very sorry."
In the course of the morning, Charlotte came to see that this was the ideal moment to resign. When lunchtime came, Dr. Wolf took his coat and hat from the pegs in the outer office.
Charlotte said, "There's something I've been meaning to tell you for some time. I've very much enjoyed working for you, but I feel that the time has come now for me to--" Without listening to Charlotte, Dr. Wolf had begun speaking at the same time.
"Miss. Gray, I need a receptionist I can rely on. I don't require her to show initiative or to be an original thinker." There was a sarcastic weariness in his voice.
"There were those letters I had to ask you about the other day. There was the problem with the table at my club. And now you seem unable to get up in the morning ..."
Charlotte, who found it embarrassing to have to break her news to Dr. Wolf, was ploughing on with her own speech, looking down at her hands as she spoke: '... And it's not that I don't appreciate the work, it's just that I feel could
"It's long enough. They're easy to fly. I'm more worried about the French."
"I meant it's not long ... not long to go if you didn't come back."
"Of course I'll come back. I'm indestructible."
Charlotte touched his cheek with the tips of her fingers.
"Why did you change your mind about me?"
Gregory shifted his weight on the pillow.
"Perhaps I shouldn't have done. Do you mind?"
"Mind? Oh no ... Don't frown so much. It's all right."
He seemed unable to change his anxious expression.
"I wanted to help you," she said.
"I wanted to make you feel better."
When Gregory had gone for his train Charlotte coaxed the bathroom geyser into noisy take-off. She supposed she would now have to pay attention to Daisy's contraceptive lectures: she had managed to avert her eye when Daisy hoisted her skirt, planted her foot on the edge of the bath and demonstrated the art of douching; she had discreetly thrown away an unsolicited gift of something called Volpar Gels.
Charlotte did not bother to straighten the bed, but, bathed and in a clean nightdress, slipped beneath the still-warm covers and felt her body plunging towards sleep. There was hardly a moment to think about what she had done or how it had differed from her long-held apprehension.
Why was I so fearful? She had time only to phrase the question to herself before sleep unpicked its grammar.
In her brief bodily paradise Charlotte did not hear Daisy and Sally noisily attack the bathroom in the morning, nor their clattering departure for work, nor even Terence's bumbling from room to room.
Her own alarm clock had remained unset in the preoccupying pleasures of her going to bed.
She awoke when the noise of a car horn in the street penetrated her still open bedroom window.
She had been profoundly happy in her healing sleep, and was disorientated when she sat up. It was almost half past ten. She flew across the room and pulled on her clothes in an ecstasy of fumbled fastenings. Smoothing her skirt, pushing a comb into her hair, she rushed out of the flat with her toothbrush still in her mouth. She hailed a taxi and swallowed the toothpaste as she sat in the back of the cab, dabbing on some powder and checking the results in the mirror of her compact. She let herself into Dr. Wolf's building and ran up the stairs. His consulting room door was closed, so Charlotte settled at her desk and began to open the letters.
After about twenty minutes Dr. Wolf's door opened and a young man in army uniform came out, smiled at Charlotte and made his way towards the stairs.
"Ah. Miss. Gray." Dr. Wolf's head appeared from his room.
"How nice to see you. Is everything all right?"
Charlotte began to apologise. She had forgotten to set the alarm, she told him; but without the crucial events that preceded this amnesia, the story did not sound good.
Dr. Wolf said, "I see."
"I'm sure I can catch up. I won't go out at lunchtime. I'll make sure everything's up to date. I'm very sorry."
In the course of the morning, Charlotte came to see that this was the ideal moment to resign. When lunchtime came, Dr. Wolf took his coat and hat from the pegs in the outer office.
Charlotte said, "There's something I've been meaning to tell you for some time. I've very much enjoyed working for you, but I feel that the time has come now for me to--" Without listening to Charlotte, Dr. Wolf had begun speaking at the same time.
"Miss. Gray, I need a receptionist I can rely on. I don't require her to show initiative or to be an original thinker." There was a sarcastic weariness in his voice.
"There were those letters I had to ask you about the other day. There was the problem with the table at my club. And now you seem unable to get up in the morning ..."
Charlotte, who found it embarrassing to have to break her news to Dr. Wolf, was ploughing on with her own speech, looking down at her hands as she spoke: '... And it's not that I don't appreciate the work, it's just that I feel could
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