by Alec Waugh
‘She’s not likely to go out and join you?’
‘Oh, no; that wouldn’t be her line. So it’s all up to you.’
‘All up to me?’
‘As soon as you decide to come out and join me you send a cable and you’ll have an air ticket by return.’
It could not have been said more naturally, in a more matter of fact way. The high drama and tension of the week before were far away. Which was very like him. She liked it that it was. She liked him for being the man he was.
‘Last week I was thinking that we should go out together,’ he was saying. ‘It would have been romantic, but I don’t think it would be the right way for a doctor to start a new life in a new country. While I was finding my feet there, I couldn’t give you the attention that you need, I couldn’t give us the attention that we need.’
‘That’s very sensible.’
‘I’ll need to feel my way very carefully at first.’
‘And how long do you think it will take you to get settled in?’
‘Six months.’
‘And when you are, you’ll write and let me know.’
‘That’s my idea.’
Did he really believe that when she got that letter, she would cable back ‘Ready to start next week’. Could he really believe that. It seemed scarcely credible, yet of one thing she was very certain that if she did, she would be warmly welcomed and that he would do his best to make a real life there for her. And who could tell if he wasn’t making a reasonable suggestion. How could he tell, how could she tell how she would be feeling in six months. A lot could happen in six months.
Of one thing, though, she was sure, and of that she was very sure. She was not going to discuss it now. There must be nothing solemn, nothing contentious about their last picnic meal together.
‘Tell me more about your plans, tell me all you know about your plans,’ she said. ‘I want to be able to picture you out there.’
He told her all he knew. He was light, casual, informative. But she could tell through his casualness, how excited at heart he was. This excitement made him look fifteen years younger, just as it had when he had talked about his ambitions as a doctor. This was a great adventure for him.
They sipped their Chablis, and munched their smoked salmon and their camembert; the minutes slipped away. ‘Time for me to be back at my bureau now,’ she said.
‘But I’ll be seeing you at the station.’
‘He’s a very handsome man.’
‘Yes, he is good looking. He comes into the hospital once a week.’
‘Didn’t I see you with him at the mystery players the other day?’
‘You did.’
‘I expect Graham told you that I had seen you.’
‘He did.’
‘I was only talking about you both to Sandy yesterday. “It’s time we had them over for dinner” I was saying. “It’s ridiculous to live so close to one another and never see each other.” I’m sure that it’s our turn.’
‘I think it’s ours.’
‘Is it? I forget. Anyhow we’re not cutlet for cutlet people, are we? Oh, thank you, thank you, Dr. Harvey. Are you Anna’s doctor?’
‘I’m not, alas.’
‘If you are I was going to congratulate you. She looks so well.’
‘Yes, she does, doesn’t she?’
When Dolly Messitor was garrulous, nobody could stop her. Ten minutes ago Anna had been dreading the strain of a long dragged out last quarter of an hour. Now she was terrified that she would not have a single second alone with him. Dolly had started on a recital of her ailments. ‘It’s all tension with me. I’m tremendously tense. I don’t know why. Especially in public. I’ve tried yoghurt and I’ve tried yoga, but it does me no good. My husband says that if I don’t relax, I’ll end up crippled with arthritis.’
On and on she went. It was no good, Anna thought. She was not going to get that last minute alone with him.
‘I’d never forgive you if you missed that,’ she said.
Finish where it began.
There’ll be no last minute melodramas, she reassured herself. But he won’t be silly. He was too much the conventional Englishman for that. But even if he had not, he would have had no chance on this particular occasion to create a scene. Mrs. Harris was holding the centre of the stage. A customer had asked her for a chocolate wafer, and she was waving her hands above her head in a histrionic gesture of despair.
‘What can I say? What can I say? You ask for milk chocolate wafers and we are entirely destitute of same, owing to the international crisis and world shortages, no milk chocolate wafers have been delivered. It is only one more indication of the disastrous times we live in.’
‘I’m going to miss her misuse of the English language in Australia,’ Dr. Harvey said.
And then further to complete the confusion Dolly Messitor came in. She called across to Anna, ‘Hullo, there, I wondered if I should be seeing you. I know this is your day.’
‘Yes, Wednesday is my day.’
‘Have you come in for a cup of tea, too. There’s just time for it.’ Then Dolly realized that Anna was not alone. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I’m …’ Anna introduced them. ‘I’ll go over and get that tea for you, for all of us,’ he said.
As he went over to the counter Dolly was profuse in her apologies. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt anything.’
‘You didn’t interrupt anything.’
The station announcer’s voice was raised. This must be the express. But it wasn’t the express. The train approaching Platform No. 2 is the 18.13 for Basingstoke, Woking and Waterloo.
‘That’s your train,’ she cried.
‘I know: the express must be late.’
‘What … aren’t you coming with us?’ Dolly asked.
‘No, I go in the opposite direction. My practice is in Basingstoke and I must go.’
He held out his hand to Dolly. ‘Goodbye.’
He turned to Anna. There was nothing to be said. They did not want to shake hands with one another. He raised his hand in a little salute and hurried towards the door. ‘He’ll have to run,’ said Dolly. ‘He’s got to get right over to the other platform.’
‘He’ll make it. He’s done this before.’
‘How did you meet him?’
‘I got some grit in my eye when the express went through and he took it out.’
‘My dear, but how romantic. I’m always getting things in my eye and nobody the least attractive has ever paid the faintest attention to me. Working at the advice bureau you must meet so many fascinating people. I never meet anybody! That’s why I’m so neurotic. Sandy says I should go out more, but what’s the point of going out unless you are with somebody.’
Anna was not listening. She saw his train come in. She hurried out on to the platform. She waved her hand. Had he seen her? Perhaps; she did not know. The train was moving out, taking him with it. He was going. He was gone. It was all over. They wouldn’t ever meet again, as long as they were the people they were now. Later, in old age, they might. And what would that amount to? To reminisce; to exchange points of view: to compare notes, had you said that, had I done this? It was over done with; gone for ever. All that smooth, futile talk beside the wall. His letter from Australia, her cable back, the air mailed ticket. Of course it would not happen. Her roots were here, with Graham and the boys.
He had revealed her to herself. She would have run every risk. She would have lied, she would have cheated; by making her her own, he had made her his, and that was over. Her brief encounter with reality was over: never to be recovered. The self that she had been, for those few days, for those few hours, it had gone forever—that ultimate experience that in your final hours, would make you feel your life had not been half-lived. She would never know it now. Never, never, never.
Why go on with the husk she had become.
The announcer’s voice resounded through the station. ‘The train approaching Platform No. 1 is the boat express for Sout
hampton. She could see its lights, she could hear its roar. A train was the easiest exit, he had said. The quickest and the easiest. It had started with that train, why not let it finish with that train. She swayed towards the platform’s edge: another step, another second, it could all be over. She raised the back of her hand, across her forehead. A porter hurried over, ‘Are you all right, Miss?’ he was asking. The express roared by, just as it had done six weeks ago.
‘Are you quite sure that you’re all right?’
She shook her head. ‘Yes, I’m all right. I’m sorry I felt dizzy for a moment.’
The announcer’s voice was raised again. ‘The train approaching Platform 1 is the 18.21 for Shenley, Eastleigh and Southampton.’ Dolly appeared from the refreshment room.
‘Oh, there you are. I was wondering what had happened.’
‘It’s nothing. It was so stuffy there. I came out. The change of atmosphere. I felt dizzy: I’m all right now.’
‘Oh, you poor darling,’ Dolly slipped an arm under hers. ‘Here’s a non-smoking compartment, let’s get in.’
She let Dolly settle her in a corner seat.
Through a daze, she heard Dolly talking on and on.
‘Graham was so helpful. I’m so lucky to have him as my lawyer.’ She was on to that case on which she was seeking his advice. ‘It was, you know, such a simple case, at least it wasn’t until he got his hands on it. A right of way straight through the orchard … Well, it wasn’t an orchard really: five dead apple trees don’t make an orchard, but it is ours. I lie awake, my dear. I really do, worrying about it. Sandy says “Take one of your pills” but one can’t become a slave to pills. I take too many as it is, only last Sunday there was a couple with rucksacks, something to do with The Rambler’s Association. “It’s private property,” I said. “It’s not,” they said. “It’s a right of way and we’re re-opening it.”’
On and on she went.
The train ground to a halt at Shenley station.
‘Are you all right,’ Dolly insisted. ‘Are you sure that you’re all right; that you don’t need seeing home.’
‘I don’t need seeing home.’
‘I’ll ring you up tonight to make quite sure, and we must have that dinner soon.’
‘Yes, very soon.’
Anna drove back very slowly. The sun was low now in the sky. She turned the car into the back drive, into all that that back drive stood for.
‘It’s going to be all right,’ she thought. ‘It must. It’s going to be all right.’
This electronic edition published in 2011 by Bloomsbury Reader
Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square, London WC1B 3DP
Copyright © 1975 by Alec Waugh
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ISBN: 9781448200818
eISBN: 9781448202133
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