Mary Burchell - Nobody Asked Me

Presently she heard someone go and close it quietly. And that was the last thing she heard.

When she woke next morning, she was in her own bed in her own room, very carefully and securely tucked up like a baby. Julian must have brought her along and tucked her in like this. It made her laugh a little, but it made her feel very happy too. He had such funny, dear, careful ways with her, even if he didn’t-

Then she stopped abruptly. She wouldn’t follow out that line of thought. It didn’t lead anywhere and only made her miserable.

It was still fairly early, but the sun was shining so brightly that she decided to get up. She bathed and dressed quickly; then, slipping on a thick coat; she ran quietly downstairs and let herself out of the front door.

When they had arrived the previous afternoon it had been too dark to take in much. But now she saw that a big garden stretched on either side of the house, and at the back it sloped away downhill to a chattering stream.

The whole place looked a little sad and neglected after the winter rains, but even on this December morning there was a certain wild sweetness about it.

Alison wandered along the uneven paths, stopping to look at things here and there; and she thought she understood what Simon had meant when he had declared the place was as beautiful in December as in June.

Poor Simon! She had been really silly about him last night. Her vague fears seemed utterly ridiculous in the morning light. Only, she would not have wished them away, she thought, because that would have cancelled those heavenly hours with Julian.

As she turned back to the house, she saw that Simon was coming towards her. She thought he looked a little pale, but he greeted her with a smile, and strolled along beside her, pointing out one or two things, and drawing her attention to the view beyond the garden.

She stood for a minute, looking away to the distant hills, her hands in her pockets and her hair blowing in the wind. Then, suddenly becoming aware of the terrible intensity of his gaze, she glanced at him.

He dropped his eyes immediately with an odd hint of sullenness. Then he said unexpectedly, ‘I hope I didn’t disturb you when I closed your door last night, but the wind was making it swing rather noisily.’

‘‘ My door!’ She looked astonished. ‘Was that my door I heard?’

‘Yes. Didn’t you know?’ He was looking at her again now.

‘No. At least- Why, of course, I must have left it open when I went along-’ She stopped abruptly, perhaps at his expression.

‘God in heaven,’ he said in a fierce whisper. ‘You’re not going to finish that sentence to me, are you?’

She drew back sharply.

‘I think you must have gone crazy,’ she said coldly.

He passed his hand over his eyes.

‘I think perhaps I have. I didn’t know there was anything -like that between you two. Not until I heard you go along to him last night-and him carry you back-this morning.’

‘Simon! Will you stop saying these unpardonable things!’ The stormy anger in Alison’s eyes matched his own for a moment.

He made an impatient gesture.

‘Very well. I’m sorry-if that’s what you want to drag out of me. And here comes your Julian,’ he added with concentrated bitterness. ‘For God’s sake go and speak to him, for I can’t.’ And, turning on his heel, he left her.

Shaking all over, Alison went to meet her husband.

‘Julian-’ She took his arm quickly. ‘Julian, could we please go back to Town this afternoon, and not stay here until to-morrow morning?’

‘Why, my dear?’ He didn’t look quite so surprised as she had expected, but, with her nerves so strung up, she felt she could bear no arguments.

‘Oh, do you always demand an explanation before you will do anything?’ she cried with uncontrollable impatience.

‘No, of course not. We will go back this afternoon,’ he said quietly.

‘Oh, thank you.’ She bit her lips to keep them from trembling.

‘Alison.’

‘Yes.’ She looked faintly startled at his tone.

He turned her gently but relentlessly towards him.

‘Has Simon anything to do with this decision of yours?’

ALISON had the odd sensation that her mind went completely blank for a second. Then incoherent thoughts seemed to rush in from every side at once. Explanations… prevarication… the truth… which was the right thing to do? What would simplify the miserable situation instead of complicating it?

She looked up desperately into her husband’s face. And at the quiet reasonableness of those grey eyes she suddenly found courage again.

With only a hint of nervousness, she stroked the sleeve of his coat appealingly.

‘Julian, don’t think me deceitful or-or anything, but please may I leave that question unanswered?’

He raised his eyebrows slightly.

‘My dear, I’ve no wish to force your confidence now or at any other time,’ he said. ‘But you realise that your silence is almost an answer in itself?’

‘Please, Julian-if you’d just say no more about it-’

He could not ignore the earnestness of her appeal. ‘Very well,’ he said slowly. ‘But I will arrange that we leave this afternoon. There will be no necessity for you to make explanations to anyone, you understand-not to anyone.’

‘Thank you, Julian,’ she said. And without another word they went into the house together.

It was impossible to say whether Julian was deliberately responsible for the fact, but Alison was not left alone again with Simon, and for that she was profoundly thankful.

Only right at the end, when they were actually going out to the car, Simon drew her back slightly, so that Julian and Jennifer went on ahead.

‘I hope there were some things about the week-end which you enjoyed, Alison,’ he said, ‘and that I haven’t entirely spoilt it for you.’

In the relief of going away it was easier to forgive him, and Alison impulsively held out her hand.

‘It’s all right, Simon. Don’t think any more about it, and I won’t either.’

He made rather a wry face for a moment.

‘You’re asking a good deal of my memory, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘But if your forgiveness depends on that-I’ll do my best.’

And then they came up with the others once more, and good-byes were said.

‘You must bring her again, in the spring. It’s beautiful then,’ Jennifer told Julian.

‘Yes, come again, in the spring,’ Simon said. But it was at Alison that he looked, and not at Julian at all.

On the drive back to Town they talked very little, but something in the contented quality of their silence reminded Alison of that time months ago when Julian had described her as ‘a restful little presence,’ and it made her very happy.

It was pleasant to be home again-for the luxurious flat was rapidly becoming ‘home’ to Alison, after all-and to add to her pleasure there was a letter from Audrey which had arrived the previous evening.

‘Dear Alison’ [she wrote, with touching confidence], ‘You will be pleased to hear we shall be home for the Christmas holidays in just over a week Do you and Julian like pantomime’s? Because we thought it would be more fun going with you than with Mother. If Julian doesn’t like them we could go with just you one afternoon, and then go home to your new flat for tea. We’d like to see the flat.

‘Theo thinks you may not want anybody but yourselves, but I should think you’ve nearly got over that by now. Anyway it will be very nice to see you.

‘Lots of love.-Audrey.

‘P.S. Could you tell Daddy very tactfully that I do want a bicycle for Christmas? I’m afraid Mother means it to be a silver manicure set, and it does seem such a waste, as I should have much more use for a bicycle.’