Life Class by Pat Barker

do you think?’
    He sat down on the bed, heavily. She tugged a blouse sleeve from underneath him, angry with him for being there and being useless. He didn’t blame her. ‘When were you going to tell me?’
    ‘Now. This evening.’ But she wouldn’t meet his eye.
    ‘Do you know where he’s staying?’
    ‘No.’ She was crumpling newspaper and stuffing it into shoes. And I wouldn’t tell you if I did.’ She squeezed a pair of shoes down the side of the case.
    ‘What train are you catching?’
    ‘The eight o’clock.’
    She closed the suitcase and snapped the locks shut.
    ‘You were just going to leave, weren’t you?’
    ‘No, of course not. You know I wouldn’t do that.’
    They stood and faced each other. She came into his arms and he held her, stroking her hair, but his thoughts were all of Halliday, the bright, black buttons of his eyes, the sweating bulk of him. ‘I’ll find him.’
    ‘If you’ve got any sense you’ll keep out of his way.’
    She made to lift the suitcase from the bed, but he got there first and did it for her.
    ‘How are you getting to the station?’
    ‘Elinor’s coming for me in a cab.’
    ‘I’ll come with you.’
    ‘No, better not. Honestly. Let’s say goodbye here.’
    ‘You are coming back?’
    ‘Of course, I always do. I just need to let him calm down a bit.’
    A knock on the door. Teresa went to answer it, slipping on the chain before she opened it. Elinor’s voice. She came into the bedroom, wearing a small, rather elegant black hat, braced for conflict.
    ‘Paul. I’ve been trying to find you all day.’
    ‘I’ve been at the hospital. Took ages.’
    ‘Are you all right?’
    ‘Cracked ribs. Nothing that won’t mend.’
    ‘I warned you, I told you what he was like.’
    ‘I don’t mind what he did to me.’
    They began a final search of the flat while he stood, helpless, watching them open and close drawers, check cupboards, peer under sofa and chairs. Both women were, at some level, enjoying this, Elinor more than Teresa. Finally, Teresa lay face down and looked under the bed.
    ‘Can’t see anything.’
    The whole flat seemed to have been demolished, though in fact comparatively little had been taken away. The glow he remembered had always been an illusion, created by lamps and a few brightly coloured shawls and rugs. All the time, underneath, there’d been this cold squalor. For the first time, he noticed a smell of rancid fat from the kitchen.
    ‘You don’t have to go on your own,’ he said. ‘We can go together.’
    ‘No, Paul. He mightn’t bother tracking me down if he knows I’m not with you.’
    Elinor went to the door to see if the cab had arrived, leaving them alone for a few minutes. Teresa was looking in the wardrobe mirror, adjusting her hat. She paused, pin in hand, meeting his reflected gaze. ‘You’ll get over it, you know. Quite quickly.’
    ‘I love you.’
    She turned to face him. ‘You don’t love me. If you love anybody, you love Elinor, and you only love her because you know she won’t have you.’
    He was starting to be angry, not just with Halliday but with her as well. How dare she tell him what he felt?
    Elinor said from the hall, ‘The cab’s here.’
    Paul could hear the cab horse stamping its feet, snorting, jingling its harness. The time they had left was measured in seconds; there was nothing he could do to stop her going. He lugged one of the three cases up the basement steps and went back for the other two, but the women were already carrying them. He brought the shawls and rugs. The cabman was strapping the suitcases on to the back. Elinor got into the cab.
    Paul stood on the pavement with Teresa. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the cab rock as the driver climbed into his seat. ‘Well. Goodbye, then.’
    ‘Elinor’s got the address.’
    ‘I’ll come to see you, shall I? When you’ve settled in.’
    ‘No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.’ She was scanning the street, obviously still