Ruth Rendell - Thirteen Steps Down

"I wish to go home," said Gwendolen. "Now."

"I suppose I could get you a taxi."

Queenie Winthrop had been told by the ward sister that an ambulance would take Gwendolen home at four o'clock thatafternoon. "At the earliest."

" Taxis are a wicked price," said Gwendolen. "They costmore at weekends."

"I'll pay for it."

Gwendolen gave the humorless little laugh that was characteristic of her but which no one had heard for the past few days. "I've never taken charity from anyone and I'm not goingto start now. Surely you know someone with a car."

"Olive used to drive, but she's let her license lapse."

"Yes, very useful. What about her niece, Mrs. some-African-name?"

"Oh, I couldn't ask her, Gwendolen."

"Why on earth not? She can only say no, but she'll be veryrude if she does."

Hazel Akwaa and her daughter were drinking coffee in Hazel's house in Acton. Or, rather, Hazel was drinking coffee and Nerissa was drinking sparkling water with ice and a slice of lemon. Before the phone rang they had been discussing what Hazel was to wear to dinner at Darel Jones's that evening, and Nerissa was offering to lend her the only garment she possessed that her mother could get into, a heavy silk embroideredcaftan.

"Fetch Gwendolen Chawcer from the hospital?" Nerissah eard her mother say. "I couldn't before late this afternoon.

My husband's got the car."

"Tell her I'll drive her," said Nerissa.

So they went to Paddington together, the caftan fetched from Campden Hill Square and hanging in a garment bag across the backseat. Even Gwendolen could melt when confrontedby true kindness and when she realized what was being done to save her from staying longer than she need in hospital, she was very gracious to Nerissa. For once, in the company of a young woman, she refrained from remarking on the tightnessof her jeans, the color and length of her fingernails, the decolletageo f her shirt, and the height of her heels, but smiled and said how very thoughtful Nerissa was in giving up her Saturday morning to "transport an ancient creature like me."

They reached St. Blaise House at exactly noon. Queenie Winthrop, who hadn't been invited to accompany them but had done so just the same, gave Gwendolen a very acerbic account, lasting for the entire journey, of how she had tried to get into the house to make final preparations for its owner's return."

I had a key of course. Extraordinary as it seems, 1found thefront door bolted against me. Yes, bolted. You wouldn't believeit, would you? Perhaps that Mr. Cellini is nervous of being in the place alone. I'm sure I don't know but it was bolted top and bottom. I rang and rang and banged on the door and the letterbox. When it was all to no avail I looked up and caught aglimpse of him diving down out of sight: And which window do you think he wa at, Gwendolen? The one that faces the street in the middle on the first floor. Your bedroom window. I'm almost positive. What do you think of that?"

"I might think something if you were absolutely positive. But you're not, are you?"

Queenie didn't answer. Gwendolen was a bit much sometimes.Looking cool and offended, she helped her out of the car, but she wasn't surprised when Gwendolen shook off her arm as they approached the front door and inserted her key in the lock. In spite of treating Queenie's account of Mix Cellini's behavior with derision, she had quite expected to find her ownfront door bolted against her and, as the key turned, she was thinking of the vituperative invective she would direct against him, culminating in notice to quit. But the door slid openeasily.

They all went in and took off their jackets. As they walked across the hallway toward the drawing room door, Mix cameout from the direction of the kitchen. He was very disconcerted to see them so early, and both overjoyed and alarmed to see Nerissa, though he had completed his task half an hour before and had been back only to check that he had left no incriminating evidence behind. It was the sight of Nerissa that brought him to a standstill in front of Gwendolen. But for her, he would have made some perfunctory greeting, passed themand struggled upstairs, hand pressed to aching back. He was about to ignore the rest of them and find themost gracious words he could think of for Nerissa whenGwendolen spoke.

"What have you been doing in my kitchen?"

Mix had been using lies and subterfuge to get him out of trouble almost since he was a baby and he always had some defensive excuse ready. "I knew you'd be coming home today. Ithought I'd make you a cup of tea so I went to check on thekettle and the teacups."

"Very thoughtful," said Gwendolen who didn't believe him.

"One of my friends will do that."

This was dismissal and Mix recognized it as such. He had to speak to Nerissa before he went back upstairs. She was looking at him, smiling a half-smile. "That was a great shot of you in last night's Standard , Miss Nash," he said. "You wouldn't have a copy you could sign and let me have, would you?"It was a press photo," she said and her voice soundedsmaller than it had before. "They just took it. They don't give you copies."

"Pity." Mix was determined to say his piece before partingfrom her. He had rehearsed it for just such an occasion. "Miss Nash, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You're just as beautiful in close-up as from far away." He brought hisface near hers. "More beautiful," he said and he staggered upstairs,desperate not to show the pain he was in.

Unwilling to listen to all this, Gwendolen went into the drawing room, attended but no longer physically supported by Queenie "Winthrop. Hazel Akwaa was furiously angry. She wanted to run after Mix and berate him but Nerissa held her arm and said, "No, Mum, don't. Leave it."

"How dare he say things like that to you?" Hazel spoke loudly enough for Mix, by now on the first floor, to hear.

"I'm not the Queen, Mum. He doesn't have to get permission. I must be really stupid, as I didn't realize he actually lived here. I mean, I know we met him outside that time, but it never registered that he lived in this house."

"I'm sorry you had to endure all that under my roof," said, Gwendolen as Nerissa and Hazel went into the drawing room. Her tone was no longer kindly toward Nerissa, whom she blamed as much as Mix for his outburst.

Now she was home she wanted all these people to go. In an impatient way, she acknowledged Nerissa’s kindness in fetching her from the hospital, but there was nothing to stay for. She had her prescribed medicaents and vitamins, she wasn't hungry, and her paramount desire was to lie on the sofa andopen the post that Queenie had brought in from the hallway. There was bound to be a letter from Stephen Reeves. She wasvery tired and she wanted to read it before sleep overtook her.It was Nerissa who recognized how weary she was and took her mother and Queenie away, Queenie calling over her shoulder that Gwendolen must waste no time in seeing what she thoughtof the spring-cleaning she and Olive had done in the kitchen.

Before opening her book, Gwendolen reflected that today was the anniversary of the first time Stephen Reeves came to the house to attend her mother. He had come downstairs and said, "It's a sad sight to see the old folks come to this."

She had offered him tea and, because he looked hungry, that day's batch of homemade cakes.

The compliments Mix had offered to Nerissa and the proximity of his face to hers had upset her more than she had showed at the time. She had made a great effort at self-control in order not to cause trouble the moment poor Miss Chawcer had come home after her stay in hospital, but once she had taken her mother and Mrs. Winthrop home and was in her own house,she began to cry. All the telling herself that the man had only said she was beautiful and come rather too close to her, that he was a harmless fool, had no effect and she gave way to a storm of tears.