finished chewing a succulent morsel of chicken. He speared another on his fork. ‘I hope you haven’t got any committee meetings on Wednesday evening,’ he said in a calm, pleasant voice. ‘If you have you’d better cancel them.’
Beryl raised her head abruptly like a gun dog that had got wind of game. ‘What’s so special about Wednesday?’ she asked, giving him a penetrating glance.
‘Rolt’s coming to supper,’ Arthur said in a throwaway manner. Beryl flashed him an incredulous, delighted look. ‘And Madame Celia is coming with him,’ Arthur said, still deadpan.
Beryl flung down her fork. ‘Never!’ she cried. ‘Not Celia Brettell! I just don’t believe it!’
‘Believe it or believe it not,’ Arthur said with tranquil majesty, ‘on Wednesday evening the pair of them will set foot in this house.’ He gave a massive nod. ‘For supper and cards.’ He fixed Robin with a patriarchal look. ‘You’ll be here, naturally.’
‘I was going to play squash at the youth club,’ Robin said without any note in his voice other than that of flat statement.
Arthur inclined his head briefly in regret for the necessity to cancel the squash game. ‘You’ll be here,’ he said amiably. No need to argue or raise his voice, always a trifle surprised when he heard of other men having pitched battles with their offspring.
‘I suppose I’ll have to lay on a banquet for his lordship,’ Beryl said, divided between pleasure at the thought of being licensed to splash out freely and irritation at the notion that all her efforts were going to be directed towards providing lavish hospitality for Andrew Rolt – who had as good as done Arthur out of the area manager’s job at CeeJay – and that stuck-up creature Celia Brettell, with her flash car and mighty high opinion of herself. She began to consider the meal in detail. Steak? Sirloin? Chicken? Or a turkey – ‘what about a turkey?’
‘Claret,’ Arthur said on a musing note. ‘Or a really good hock?’ Must remember to get a dryish sherry for Rolt. He held out his plate. ‘I’ll have a bit more of that chicken’ he said graciously. He felt a sudden keen increase in his appetite.
‘I’d like some more coffee, if we’ve time,’ Celia Brettell said. The cheese had been rather salty.
‘Yes, that’s all right.’ Andrew signalled the waiter. Another ten minutes or so before he need take the road for his interview.
‘Would you plan to move from Barbourne?’ Celia asked. He appreciated the way she didn’t add ‘if you get the job’, seeming to accept without question that he would be successful.
He raised his shoulders. ‘I couldn’t say at this stage. I’d have to see how it worked out.’ Kain Engineering was only twenty miles away, just over the border of the next county. Near enough to let him keep his present house if he wished, but far enough removed both in actual distance and psychologically – by virtue of that county border – to provide a liberating sense of making a completely fresh start, if he did decide to move.
He steered the conversation back to impersonal topics; he had grown skilled at this in the years he had known Celia. Not that he had any particular desire to choke off her questions about this new job; it was simply that he wanted to forget the whole thing until he found himself walking in through the wide swing doors at Kain. He had been pleased when she had turned up and suggested lunch; he hadn’t in the least been looking forward to a jittery meal on his own.
His nerves were agreeably steady, he noted with satisfaction as he paid the bill and saw Celia to her car. The pleasant, calm feeling lasted throughout the drive. The traffic was a good deal lighter than he had expected and he realized as he approached the main gates that he was faced with a nasty stretch of time that he hadn’t bargained for.
He didn’t turn in through the gates but drove a little further on to a lay-by. The feeling of serenity had drained away. He leaned back against the upholstery, closed his eyes and tried to relax. At once a host of disturbing thoughts besieged his brain. He did his best to obliterate them, but it was useless. After a couple of minutes he opened his eyes and sat up. He stepped out of the car and looked round.
A hundred yards away on the left he could see the painted sign of a pub. He bit his lip, staring at the sign. He had managed to keep off drink at lunch, he certainly wasn’t going to have any now; it would be kissing goodbye to any chance of the job. He turned his head. A short distance off, on the right, stood a phone kiosk. At once his spirits lightened.
I’ll ring Alison, he thought with relief, I’ll tell her where I am and what I’m doing, she’s bound to be interested, after all it concerns her very closely. He dug in his pocket for the coins, crossed the road and went rapidly towards the kiosk.
Alison had only a few minutes to spare before her next appointment when the phone rang on her desk. Her smooth professional manner underwent an alteration as soon as she recognized Andrew’s voice. Surprise, followed instantly by wariness, entered her tone.
‘What prompts this call?’ she asked across his opening civilities. ‘I’m very busy just now.’
He gave a nervous laugh. ‘I have an interview at three o’clock.’ He sketched in brief details. ‘I thought you might care to wish me luck.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said crisply. ‘If this job is what you want, then I certainly hope you get it.’
‘I’m speaking from a box outside the Works.’ He was desperate now to keep her on the other end of the line. ‘It’s a pleasant situation. Open country not far away. You’d like it.’
‘Oh yes?’ she said, now only half listening. With her free hand she drew towards her a file of papers. She opened it and began to scan the pages.
‘And it’s not much more than twenty miles from Barbourne.’ His tone grew warmer. ‘It wouldn’t necessarily mean moving house.’ She said nothing, he abandoned caution. ‘It could be exactly as you pleased. We could move or not, just as you chose.’
As she turned a page his words suddenly got through to her. She withdrew her fingers abruptly from the file.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked sharply. ‘What has your moving to do with me?’
He was at once invaded by panic that she might force him out into the open, might make him spell out his wish to mend the marriage, the terms he had in mind. And if she then rejected those proposals, leaving him to get through the next few minutes as best he could, he would face the interview in the total certainty of failure.
He gave another laugh. ‘I seem to have caught you at an inconvenient moment. I’m sorry, I’ll ring off.’ He put down the receiver without giving her time to reply. He let out a long trembling breath, stood for a few seconds with his eyes closed, steadying himself, wiping the conversation from his mind, summoning up what remained to him of poise and assurance.
When the phone clicked and buzzed in Alison’s ear she raised her shoulders, pulled a face of momentary irritation and then dropped the instrument back on to its hook.
She glanced at her watch. She was on the verge of dismissing Andrew from her mind when some of the implications of his call began to filter into the forefront of her brain. He seemed very anxious to get this new job; he talked as if it meant quite a bit more money. It would suit him very well if she were to return to him. And he was prepared to go to some lengths to entice her back.
‘Mm,’
