arrived at eight o’clock, punctual to the minute. He was a man of medium height and build, only slightly veering to plumpness. He had known the girls since they were children, having been friendly with their father, and when their father died quite suddenly he had been responsible for getting them this flat, and dealing with the sale of the house in Earl’s Court which had been too big and expensive for them to keep on alone.
He kissed Dallas warmly, and said: ‘Hello, darling. How are you? You’re looking a little peaky this evening.’
Dallas shrugged. ‘Oh, can’t you guess, Charles? I’ve had another row with Jane.’
‘Over Paris Stavros?’
‘What else?’
‘Well, I wish you wouldn’t, Dallas,’ said Charles, rather irritatedly. ‘After all, she isn’t a child, and sooner or later she has got to learn that all the apples on the branch aren’t sweet ones.’
‘Don’t be pompous,’ said Dallas, sighing. ‘Jane is my responsibility, after all, and I can’t just let her ruin her life.’
‘You’re over-dramatising the situation, as usual,’ retorted Charles, shaking his head. ‘Paris Stavros is only eighteen, when all’s said and done. He’s not had time to build up much of a reputation! You’d think he was a lecherous old playboy to hear you talk!’
Dallas had to smile at this, and she lit a cigarette thoughtfully, waiting for Charles’s exclamation: ‘Dallas, must you smoke so much?’
She shook her head. ‘Why not? I don’t smoke all day. I deserve some relaxation, don’t I?’
Charles deigned not to answer this, and seating himself in front of the television set, said: ‘Is there anything exciting on this evening?’
‘There’s that detective series you enjoy,’ remarked Dallas, feeling strangely restless. ‘Charles! Why don’t we go to the pictures, for a change?’
Charles glanced round frowning. ‘We never go out on Thursday evenings,’ he exclaimed, aggrieved.
‘Oh, all right, all right!’ Dallas sank down on to the couch beside him. ‘Have you had a busy day?’
Charles was an accountant, with a firm here in the city.
‘So-so,’ he answered absently. ‘Oh, look, Dallas. The programme is just starting!’
Dallas nodded, and drew deeply on her cigarette. Whether it was the continued arguments with Jane, or whether something inside her was beginning to rebel she didn’t know, but quite suddenly she could see their lives going on in the same way for years to come, and it was quite frightening. Was this all it was about? If only Charles wasn’t such a stick-in-the-mud. She had always excused him on account of his age, but after all, thirty-seven wasn’t so old. Lots of men didn’t become so set in their ways at that age. It could only be the influence of his mother, and for the first time she wondered if they were doing the right thing, going to live with her after their marriage. It was all very well, and Dallas knew that old Mrs. Jennings was the kind of person who required someone to live with her, but she could get a companion, and they could buy a new house, in one of the new suburban developments, and then they would really have something worth saving for.
‘Charles,’ she said tentatively, ‘I don’t think living with your mother after we’re married is such a good idea after all.’
Charles paid little attention to her. He was engrossed with the television play. Dallas nudged him. ‘Did you hear what I said?’
‘What? Oh no, what was that? Can’t it wait until after this is over?’
Dallas stiffened. ‘No, it can’t. I … I don’t want to live with your mother after we’re married.’
Charles stared at her, aghast. ‘What?’ he said again. ‘Why?’
Dallas swallowed hard. ‘Because you’re getting too like her. You’re old before your time. Good heavens, Charles, you’re only thirty-seven, but you act sometimes twenty years older.’
Charles’s face was bright red now, and Dallas felt awful. But it had to be said.
‘Dallas, have you taken leave of your senses?’ He stared at her. ‘The house at Maidenhead is far too big for just Mother alone. Besides, it would be a waste of money buying another house.’
Dallas stubbed out her cigarette. ‘Why? Because you can’t afford it?’
Charles twisted his hands together. ‘I can afford another house, Dallas. But I have no intention of wasting money for no reason.’
Dallas shrugged. ‘All right, then. What if I tell you that those are my conditions for our marriage?’
Charles’s mouth dropped open, and then he hastily closed it. ‘You can’t be serious, Dallas. Have you been drinking by any chance?’ he asked suspiciously. ‘This isn’t at all like you.’
‘How do you know what I’m like? You never bother to find out. You merely sit staring at my television all evening, then eat your supper and go.’
‘Dallas!’
‘Well, it’s true. I must have been sitting with my eyes closed before, but they’re open now. It’s no good, Charles. We’re young. We deserve a bit of freedom, of time to be alone together, and if we’re living with your mother she’ll always be around, wanting you to help her into bed, or into the bath, or into her clothes! It’s no good. We need a home of our own. I’m quite willing to continue working until such time as we have everything we need.’
‘After our marriage, you will not work,’ said Charles firmly. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ His tone changed. ‘Dallas, darling Dallas, be reasonable. The house at Maidenhead is so big. If you like we needn’t even live with Mother. We could have the house equally divided into two flats.’
Dallas hesitated. ‘I don’t know,’ she began, wondering whether she was being unreasonable, and all because of Jane!
‘Think about it, then,’ said Charles, looking hopefully at her. ‘It would break Mother’s heart if she thought she was causing trouble between us.’
Dallas wondered if this were true. Mrs. Jennings was too closely involved with her son to allow him to leave her very easily.
‘All right,’ she said now, and Charles leaned forward and switched off the television, looking round gently at her.
‘Come here,’ he said softly, drawing her towards him, and she allowed him to pull her into his arms and put his soft mouth against hers.
* * *
Much later in the evening Dallas was worried again, and she could tell from Charles’s expression that she was annoying him.
‘For goodness’ sake, Dallas,’ he said. ‘It’s eleven-fifteen, that’s all. Jane will be home very shortly!’
‘But, Charles,’ she began awkwardly, ‘can’t you try and understand? Paris Stavros isn’t the kind of boy to be content with dating Jane for nothing. Everyone can see
