Mary Burchell - Nobody Asked Me

It was a blowy day in early April, but strangely warm after the chill of yesterday, and insensibly Alison felt her spirits rise. It had been rather stupid of her really to keep on trying to analyse people’s actions and attribute this and that motive to them.

Julian might have had some faint idea of showing Rosalie she couldn’t have things all her own way, but, undoubtedly too, he had wanted to be kind to her. He’d shown it in a dozen different ways. She was rather guiltily surprised to find that her thoughts had come back to him, but perhaps it was only natural since he was the only one to show the slightest personal concern about her welfare since she had arrived.

After all, if Julian liked to offer her some degree of friendship she would be more than glad to have it. But, beyond that, her cousin’s fiancé really had nothing to do with her.

Her business was to see that she attended to her aunt’s commissions as carefully and dutifully as possible, and reached home in time for schoolroom tea, as Aunt Lydia had said.

It was odd, but not at all unpleasant, to be sauntering along the streets and in and out of shops, with no one’s wishes but her own to consult until five o’clock.

For the first time she felt she had really left schooldays definitely behind her. Even Aunt Lydia ’s little spiteful pretence couldn’t make her into a schoolgirl again. She was an individual, with a life of her own before her-no longer one of a class.

It was impossible not to feel rather elated at the thought, and, in between carefully carrying out her aunt’s various instructions, Alison allowed her thoughts to wander a little to the possible future.

Since Uncle Theodore had been willing to pay for the rest of her schooling, perhaps he would have no objection to allowing her some sort of training for a job. It was rather dreadful, of course, to have to think of spending more of his money already, but, on the other hand, it would cost less in the end to let her be trained for something that would make her independent.

‘Even something very modest,’ Alison thought humbly. ‘I wouldn’t mind what it was, so long as it meant I didn’t have to sponge on them any longer.’

She hoped guiltily that it was not very ungrateful of her, but already the thought of anything that would take her away from her aunt and Rosalie seemed very attractive.

As she came into the hall on her return, the beautiful old German wall-clock struck five. Only just in time. And she must find her aunt first and tell her she had managed to match that silk for her.

She glanced into the dining-room. It was empty.

She hesitated a moment. Perhaps Aunt Lydia was in the library, having tea served there. She went over and opened the door quietly, in case there were any people there and it would be best for her to beat an unobtrusive retreat.

Tea was not being served in the library. Nor was Aunt Lydia there. But two other people were-Julian and Rosalie. And they were much too much absorbed to notice anyone else.

Alison stood there for a moment, transfixed by the sight of her cousin caught close in Julian’s arms. Rosalie was laughing a little, and he was looking down at her with an angry tenderness that was like nothing Alison had ever seen. ‘

‘Why do you do these awful things?’ she heard him say with a sort of impatient pain in his voice. ‘You know you make me sick with misery.’

And then Rosalie slid her arm round his neck, and the next moment he was kissing her all over her face.

Alison closed the door silently and fled upstairs as though something frightening were behind her. She was short of breath when she reached her room, and was astonished to find she was trembling.

It was no business of hers. She had no right to have witnessed that scene. ‘I wish I hadn’t,’ she whispered agitatedly. ‘I wish I hadn’t.’

But that wasn’t the principal thought in her heart. ‘How could she have laughed when he looked like that?’ she kept on thinking. ‘How can she hurt him so, and enjoy it?’ And then, with a heat and bitterness that appalled her: ‘I hate her!’

This was not like the quick, angry flash of temper when Rosalie had said unkind things about herself. It was something far deeper and more complicated. Something Alison couldn’t in the least explain-even to herself.

A little dazedly she put up her handkerchief and wiped her forehead, where it had gone slightly damp under her fringe.

‘I’d better go and see what the twins are doing,’ she said aloud, but it was a few minutes before her own voice seemed to reach her consciousness.

She didn’t go downstairs again until dinner-time, and then only her uncle and aunt were there. Neither of them took very much notice of her.

Her aunt said, ‘Alison will have to have some decent clothes,’ as though Alison herself were not present. And her uncle replied absently, ‘Of course. Get her whatever she needs.’

Alison, feeling a little bit like a foundling, murmured, ‘Thank you.’ And that closed the subject.

It appeared that Uncle Theodore was going abroad the next day. Alison was sorry. She had an idea that in a domestic crisis Uncle Theodore would display an impartial justice that might be useful. But she gathered from the conversation that he spent a good deal of time travelling on business, so perhaps it was as well not to count much on his problematical support.

Towards the end of the meal he looked up and said, ‘Where is Rosalie?’ as though he had only just noticed her absence.

‘Out with Julian.’ Aunt Lydia ’s tone was laconic.

Her husband gave a short laugh. ‘Which is it to-day, a quarrelling or a making-up?’ And then, as Aunt Lydia took no notice of that, ‘I can’t imagine how a man with such a business head can be a complete fool about a bit of a girl like Rosalie.’

‘It’s often the way,’ said Aunt Lydia calmly.

‘Well, there won’t be so much scope for her playing fast and loose like this once they’re out in South America.’

Aunt Lydia again made no reply, and, after a moment, Alison forced herself to say:

‘Is Rosalie going to live in South America when she’s married?’

‘I suppose so.’ Her aunt shrugged. ‘Julian’s firm have very big interests out there, and he expects to take over full management at the end of the year. I can’t say I like the idea of Rosalie’s going, but she has never listened to anyone else’s advice in her life, and I suppose one can’t expect her to start now.’

‘Rosalie never consulted anyone’s wishes but her own about anything at all,’ observed Uncle Theodore.

And that, too, Aunt Lydia left unanswered.

As time went on, Alison found this was a very fair specimen of her day. Nearly always Rosalie was out in the evening, and quite often her aunt was too, but it was the rarest thing for them to take Alison with them.

Her uncle was away more often than not, and, even when he was in London, he frequently dined at his club, and his family saw practically nothing of him. The arrangement appeared to suit both him and Aunt Lydia admirably.

When the others Were all out Alison "had her evening meal on a tray in the schoolroom, and made what she could of her own company. It was a poor life for a girl of her age, and, when the holidays came to an end, and the twins departed to school once more, she became really frightened of the loneliness.

Audrey and Theo had both displayed quite unusual emotion at parting, and Alison realised how much she was going to miss them. She promised fervently to look after Audrey’s kitten and Theo’s tortoise, and to send weekly bulletins of their health. But, remembering the unfulfilled promises of her own schooldays, she didn’t expect much in the nature of replies to her letters. Nor did she receive them.