Sarah Waters - The Night Watch

But the feeling, suddenly, of having a locked door behind him, was wonderful. He said to himself, in Alec's voice: There's no going back now, D . P . !

He made his way along the alley at the back of Mr Mundy's house, and emerged in a residential street. The street was one he walked down often, but it seemed transformed to him now, in the darkness. He moved more slowly, taken with the strange aspect of it all: very aware of the people in the houses that he passed; seeing lights put out in downstairs rooms and springing on in bedrooms and on landings, as the people went to bed. He saw a woman lift a white net curtain to reach for a window latch: the curtain draped her as a veil would a bride. In a modern house, a frosted bathroom window was lit up and showed, very clearly, a man in a vest: he sipped from a glass, put back his head to gargle; then jerked forward to spit the gargle out. Duncan caught the ring of the glass as it was set down on the basin, and when the man turned on a tap, he heard the water rushing through a waste-pipe, spluttering as it struck the drain below. The world seemed full, to him, of extraordinary new things. Nobody challenged him. Nobody seemed even to look at him. He moved through the streets as a ghost might.

He walked, in this unreal, fascinated way, through Shepherd's Bush and Hammersmith, for almost an hour; then slowed his step and grew more wary, finding the end of Fraser's street. The houses here were rather grander than the ones that he was used to; they were that kind of red-brick Edwardian villa you saw turned into doctors' surgeries, or homes for the blind, or-as in this street-boarding-houses. Each had its own name, set above its door in leaded letters. Fraser's house, Duncan saw as he drew close to it, was called St Day's . A sign said, No Vacancies .

Duncan stood, hesitating, at the gate to the shallow front garden. He knew that Fraser's room was the one on the ground floor, on the left-hand side. He remembered that, because Fraser had made a joke of the fact that his landlady called this room front bottom ; he said it was like something one's nurse would say… The curtains at the window were drawn together. They were old black-out curtains, and perfectly dark. But there was a slim, brilliant blade of colour where Fraser hadn't pulled them quite shut. Duncan thought he could hear a voice, too, talking monotonously, in the room beyond.

The sound of the voice made him suddenly uncertain. Suppose Mr Mundy was right, and Fraser had spent the evening with his friends? What would he think of Duncan turning up in the middle of it all? What sort of people would the friends be? Duncan imagined university types, clever young men with pipes and spectacles and knitted ties… Then he had an even worse thought. He thought that Fraser might be in there with a girl. He saw the girl very cleary: stout, blowsy, with a tittering laugh; with wet red lips and cherry-brandy breath.

Until he'd had this dreadful vision he'd been going to walk to the front door, like a proper visitor, and ring the bell. Now, as he grew nervous, the temptation to tiptoe over to the window and just quickly peer inside was too much for him. So he unlatched the gate and pushed it open; it swung noiselessly on its hinge. He went up the path, then made his way between rustling bushes to the window. With his heart thudding, he put his face to the glass.

He saw Fraser at once. He was sitting in an armchair at the back of the room, beyond the bed. He was dressed in his shirt-sleeves, and had his head put back; beside his chair was a table with a mess of papers on it, and his pipe in an ashtray, and a glass, and a bottle of what looked like whisky. He was sitting quite still, as if dozing, though the voice which Duncan had heard before was still going monotonously on… But now the voice gave way to a low burst of music, and Duncan realised that it was coming from a radio, that was all. The music, in fact, seemed to wake Fraser up. He got to his feet and rubbed his face. He went across the room, moved just out of Duncan 's vision, and the sound was abruptly cut off. As he walked, Duncan saw that he'd taken his shoes off. His socks had holes in them: great big holes, showing his toes and uncut toenails.

The sight of the holes and the toenails gave Duncan courage. When Fraser moved back towards his chair as if meaning to sink down in it again, he tapped on the glass.

At once, Fraser stopped and turned his head, frowning, searching for the source of the sound. He looked at the gap in the curtains-looked right, as it seemed to Duncan, into Duncan 's eyes; but couldn't see him. The sensation was unnerving. Again Duncan felt-but less pleasantly, this time-like a ghost. He lifted his hand and tapped harder-and that made Fraser cross the room and take hold of the curtain and pull it back.

When he caught sight of Duncan, he looked amazed. 'Pearce!' he said. But then he winced, and glanced quickly at the bedroom door. He thumbed back the catch of the window and quietly raised the sash, putting a finger to his lips.

'Not too loudly. I think the landlady's in the hall… What the hell are you doing here? Are you all right?'

'Yes,' said Duncan quietly. 'I just came looking for you. I've been waiting at Mr Mundy's. Why didn't you come? I waited for you all night.'

Fraser looked guilty. 'I'm sorry. The time ran away with me. Then it was late, and-' He made a hopeless gesture. 'I don't know.'

'I was waiting for you,' Duncan said again. 'I thought something must have happened to you.'

'I'm sorry. Truly I am. I didn't suppose you'd come and find me! How did you get here?'

'I just walked.'

'Mr Mundy let you?'

Duncan snorted. 'Mr Mundy couldn't stop me! I've been walking in the streets.'

Fraser looked him over, peering at his jacket, frowning again but beginning to smile. He said, 'You've got- You've got your pyjamas on!'

'So?' said Duncan, touching his collar self-consciously. 'What's wrong with that? It'll save me time.'

'What?'

'It'll save me time, later, when I go to bed.'

'You're crazy, Pearce!'

'You're the crazy one… You smell of drink. You smell awful! What have you been doing?'

But bafflingly, Fraser had started to laugh. 'I've been out with a girl,' he said.

'I knew you had! What girl? What's so funny?'

'Nothing,' said Fraser. But he was still laughing. 'It's just-this girl.'

'Well, what about her?'

'Oh, Pearce.' Fraser wiped his lips and tried to speak more soberly. 'It was your sister,' he said.

Duncan stared at him, growing cold. 'My sister! What are you talking about? You can't mean, Viv?'

'Yes, I mean Viv. We went to a pub. She was awfully nice-laughed at all of my jokes; even let me kiss her, in the end. Had the grace to blush, too, when I opened my eyes and found her sneaking a glance at her wristwatch… I put her on the bus and sent her home.'

'But, how?' asked Duncan.

'We just walked to a bus-stop-'

'You know what I mean! How did you meet her? Why did you do it? Take her out, I mean, and-?'

Fraser was laughing again. But his laughter had changed. It was rueful now-almost embarassed. He lifted a hand, to cover his mouth.

And, after a moment, Duncan began to laugh too. He couldn't help it. He didn't know what he was laughing at, even-whether it was Fraser, or himself, or Viv, or Mr Mundy, or all of them. But for almost a minute he and Fraser stood there, on either side of the window-sill, their hands across their mouths, their eyes filling with tears, their faces flushing, as they tried, hopelessly, to stifle their laughter and snorts.

Then Fraser grew a little calmer. He glanced over his shoulder again and whispered, 'All right. I think she's gone up now. Come in though, for God's sake!-before a policeman or somebody spots us.'