man’s flat but it must be a pleasant change for him after home. She had visions of smoke-filled rooms and open fires, hunting horns on the walls. It might all be very grand in a large house with the huge portraits and everything but it couldn’t be homely really. How could that woman who had spent all her life in draughty mansions know anything about the snug intimacy of the ideal-flat interior? Of course, she’d had to be very careful to see that everything was tasteful. Men like George expected that. Not that she would have wanted a musical cocktail cabinet or anything like that, not really anyway. And he’d shown how much he had liked it all by buying a lovely set of white-painted imitation Chippendale chairs, with blue velvet seats to go with the carpet.
Sally’s father had been crushed to death in a munitions factory during the war. She had been eight at the time. Her mother had gone out charring to support her family, so Sally had been left with her two brothers all day during school holidays. They had ignored her with ruthless efficiency . This, combined with the assault of a slightly older boy at school, had left her frightened of men in her own age group. True, her broken engagement had been to a man of twenty-five, but that was probably why it hadn’t worked out. And although one didn’t like to be at all snobby, he hadn’t been a real gentleman. Dick had been so inexperienced and fumbling somehow … no assurance or poise. He’d never known about the right sort of restaurants. One time they’d driven around Soho for almost an hour before he’d seen one he liked the look of, and then it had beenlittle better than a snack bar. It had been so embarrassing too when they’d gone to smart places; he never knew how much to tip and once asked for Nuits St. Georges thinking it was a white wine. George had laughed like anything when she told him that. But it wasn’t really funny, it was a bit sad. And Dick was so mean too … he wasn’t doing badly but he still lived with his mother … at his age living with one’s mother … All because he was mean … On one of the few occasions that they ate at a really exotic club, she’d ordered smoked salmon with scampi to follow and after that coq au vin … said he wasn’t hungry and didn’t want more than ravioli and coffee.
George had gone out into the kitchen to fix up dinner … he hadn’t told her what they were having … it was to be a surprise … He really was sweet … it was probably because he had seen so much of life. He had fought in the war and been wounded. He’d lived with a demanding older woman and looked after her and understood her children. Only a man of real nobility would have sacrificed his life for a woman like that … why, he’d told her that pity alone kept him with her now. How he must have suffered; if only she could make up for it. Only a gentleman … But she wasn’t ashamed of her humble origins. She’d had to work, mind you, and there was nothing to be ashamed of in that. One had to work if one was going to be able to leave all that behind … not every little tuppeny-halfpenny shop girl would have been able to attract a man like that … be able to talk to him. But she’d done pretty well for herself … personal secretary to the managing director of a large department store meant a good deal of responsibility. Breaking with her mother had been difficult. That was the trouble with definite ties … one long sacrifice.
She finished the remains of her drink and went over to the drinks cupboard to get herself another.
No, the present arrangement was the best possible … limited domesticity without any rows. If you see somebody twelve times a year you’re not likely to quarrel. She did see others every now and then … and yet George was very close … almost a father … rather a naughty one.
George was standing in the doorway.
‘Dinner is served, madam,’ he bowed obsequiously. Then, coming over to her chair, he ran
Sally’s father had been crushed to death in a munitions factory during the war. She had been eight at the time. Her mother had gone out charring to support her family, so Sally had been left with her two brothers all day during school holidays. They had ignored her with ruthless efficiency . This, combined with the assault of a slightly older boy at school, had left her frightened of men in her own age group. True, her broken engagement had been to a man of twenty-five, but that was probably why it hadn’t worked out. And although one didn’t like to be at all snobby, he hadn’t been a real gentleman. Dick had been so inexperienced and fumbling somehow … no assurance or poise. He’d never known about the right sort of restaurants. One time they’d driven around Soho for almost an hour before he’d seen one he liked the look of, and then it had beenlittle better than a snack bar. It had been so embarrassing too when they’d gone to smart places; he never knew how much to tip and once asked for Nuits St. Georges thinking it was a white wine. George had laughed like anything when she told him that. But it wasn’t really funny, it was a bit sad. And Dick was so mean too … he wasn’t doing badly but he still lived with his mother … at his age living with one’s mother … All because he was mean … On one of the few occasions that they ate at a really exotic club, she’d ordered smoked salmon with scampi to follow and after that coq au vin … said he wasn’t hungry and didn’t want more than ravioli and coffee.
George had gone out into the kitchen to fix up dinner … he hadn’t told her what they were having … it was to be a surprise … He really was sweet … it was probably because he had seen so much of life. He had fought in the war and been wounded. He’d lived with a demanding older woman and looked after her and understood her children. Only a man of real nobility would have sacrificed his life for a woman like that … why, he’d told her that pity alone kept him with her now. How he must have suffered; if only she could make up for it. Only a gentleman … But she wasn’t ashamed of her humble origins. She’d had to work, mind you, and there was nothing to be ashamed of in that. One had to work if one was going to be able to leave all that behind … not every little tuppeny-halfpenny shop girl would have been able to attract a man like that … be able to talk to him. But she’d done pretty well for herself … personal secretary to the managing director of a large department store meant a good deal of responsibility. Breaking with her mother had been difficult. That was the trouble with definite ties … one long sacrifice.
She finished the remains of her drink and went over to the drinks cupboard to get herself another.
No, the present arrangement was the best possible … limited domesticity without any rows. If you see somebody twelve times a year you’re not likely to quarrel. She did see others every now and then … and yet George was very close … almost a father … rather a naughty one.
George was standing in the doorway.
‘Dinner is served, madam,’ he bowed obsequiously. Then, coming over to her chair, he ran
Similar Books
