Ruth Rendell: The Thief

‘I was talking to you,’ he said.

‘I know,’ she said.

‘Here’s your poison coming now. Make it last. You don’t want to stagger off the plane when we get there.’

The stewardess began to tell him that the chief steward had apologised. They were sorry the food hadn’t been to his liking. Would he accept a glass of dessert wine?

‘I don’t drink,’ he said. ‘Give it to her. She can put any amount away.’

That was too much for Polly. She told herself, you will regret it if you don’t speak up now, and said, ‘Are you always so rude? I don’t want to talk to you. Why can’t you leave me alone?’

Her hands were shaking and he could see. He laughed. ‘Poor little Polly. Was Daddy horrid then?’

She felt her face grow red. It was always the way. She could never match someone else’s rudeness. Her hands would shake, she would blush and come out with words a child might use. She had other ways of dealing with it but these were not possible now. His next words surprised her.

‘You know what they say. If a man’s rude to a woman it’s because he finds her attractive.’

‘Do they?’ She had never heard anyone say it.

‘You are, though. Very attractive. Have dinner with me tonight?’

She wouldn’t dream of it. Have him call her a poor little thing and tell her to stop drinking? Well, she could try to be rude, even if she blushed and her hands shook.

‘I’d rather have dinner with the Komodo dragon,’ she said very loudly.

Now she had got to him. His face went red and white and set in rigid lines. She turned away with a toss of her head and looked out of the window, seeing nothing. A voice saying ‘Would you like coffee?’ made her turn round. She nodded, and passed the cup from her tray. He had coffee too. They sat, staring in front of them, each with a cup of coffee.

Because she was going straight to a meeting with friends as soon as they got to New York, she was wearing a pale cream trouser suit. The airline’s paper napkin was across her knees. She put milk into her coffee, stirred it. His voice saying ‘Watch this’ turned her head. He lifted his cup and poured a stream of coffee across her knee.

It was hot and Polly screamed. The stewardess came running.

‘He poured coffee over me,’ she cried. ‘He poured it over me on purpose. He’s mad.’

The stewardess looked from one to the other. ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean…’

‘Of course I didn’t,’ Lant said. ‘Of course not. I’m so sorry, Polly. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. What can I do? Can I pay your cleaning bill?’

She said nothing. She was afraid that if she spoke she would start to cry. The stewardess sponged her trousers but the stain wouldn’t come out. Polly thought of how she would have to meet her friends with a big brown stain from the top of her thigh to her knee. She would have no time to change. Could they give her a different seat? The chief steward said he was sorry but there were no empty seats.

She went back to sit next to Lant. Her leg smarted where the hot coffee had touched the skin. She put the airline’s blanket over her knees to cover the stain. Tears were running out of her eyes. She closed them and turned her face into the back of the seat. He was sleeping, breathing heavily, and his breathing sounded to her like laughter.

You are not a child, she told herself. Stop crying, don’t let him see. I hate him, a voice inside her said, I hate him. I would like to kill him. She thought of other people she had hated like this, her Auntie Pauline, a girl at school, a boyfriend who had left her. She had had revenge on them. Revenge wasn’t possible with Trevor Lant. Her tears dry now, she sat there for hours, quieter, telling herself, you will never see him again after we land. Never again.

She dozed. The captain’s voice, saying they were beginning their descent for New York, woke her. Lant was still asleep.

WITH TEN MINUTES TO spare before her friends were due, Polly changed her trousers for a black pair in the hotel bathroom. Next morning she tried three dry-cleaners but they all said the stain would never come out, though one said they would try. She had come to New York to go to her cousin Lizzie’s wedding and she meant to have a happy day. Before leaving for the church she spoke on the phone to Alex. She had thought to tell him about Trevor Lant and what he had said. But somehow, when she was talking to him, she couldn’t. If she started that she would have to tell him what she had said to Lant when he asked her to have dinner with him. He would be shocked. He hated rudeness.

‘Did you have a good flight?’

‘Oh, yes. Quite good.’

‘No one awful sitting next to you?’

Now would be the time to tell him. Instead, she lied. He was so kind and trusting he always believed her.

‘No. The seat was empty all the way to New York.’

‘I hope you’ll be as lucky coming back. I miss you, darling.’

‘I miss you too.’

Why had she lied to Alex? An ex-boyfriend had told her she lied when there was no need. She could have told Alex a man had sat next to her and nothing more than that. But she had lied. And it was the first time for weeks.

She went to the wedding. Her Auntie Pauline was there as the bride’s mother and she greeted Polly at the church door. Polly hadn’t seen her very much for years. Auntie Pauline had changed a lot and looked quite old but she was still the same woman who had smacked Polly after saying she had something to show her. As Polly walked in and took her seat she thought again about taking the book and cutting it up. She looked at the little scar on her hand where a piece of glass had cut it. When the service started she forgot Auntie Pauline and the smacking and the book for a while and asked herself how she would feel if she was the bride and Alex the bridegroom. One day, she thought, maybe one fine day we’ll get married.

Next day she was taken to the theatre. Then there was shopping and lunch with the friends she had met when she first got there. She didn’t see Auntie Pauline again and someone told her she had gone back on Thursday morning. It was Thursday night when Polly took a taxi to the airport. She ought to buy a present to take home for Alex but he never seemed to want anything and in the end, after looking in shop windows, she left it.

Lant’s case came into view before he did. She thought, it can’t be, I’m seeing things. But there it was, in the economy class queue, and there he was in his black suit, a pink shirt this time and with his orange carry-on bag. She shouldn’t have said what she had said to him. He wouldn’t forget it. He was the kind of man who would want revenge and she knew all about revenge.

They wouldn’t up him to club class this time. Surely they wouldn’t. The queue he was in moved more slowly than hers. It was far longer. When she had checked in, she turned round and met his eyes. He curled his lip and made a gesture with the middle finger of his right hand. She felt the blood rush into her face. Please let me get to the check-in fast and get away from him. When she was given her boarding pass, she sighed with relief and walked away as fast as she could.

The gate was a long way away but she would get there first. And then – would he come and sit next to her? It would be better if she didn’t get there first. Let him get there first and then she could sit far away from him. You will soon be home, she told herself, and then you really will never see him again. He can’t hurt you. Anyway, he will be sitting in the economy class. She went into a little bar, meaning to have a cup of coffee. When she was sitting on the bar stool she asked for a gin and tonic instead. She needed it.

If he passed by she didn’t see him. But she couldn’t sit there much longer. She had to go. In ten minutes the gate would close and in twenty boarding would begin. On her way to the gate she felt that at any moment he might come up behind her. Even touch her. It was like walking in a dark street at night and knowing someone was behind you. The footfalls come nearer but you mustn’t run.