The Complete Works: Fantasy & Sci-Fi Novels, Religious Studies, Poetry & Autobiography. C. S. Lewis
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“I was only saying, ma’am, it was five past one.”
“How time flies, doesn’t it, Daisy? But what if it is? Aren’t you comfortable, Daisy? You’re not getting tired, holding a little bit of a thing like her?”
“No ma’am, thank you. But you did say, ma’am, you’d meet Captain O’Hara at one sharp.”
“Captain O’Hara?” said Miss Hardcastle dreamily at first, and then louder, like one waking from a dream. Next moment she had jumped up and was putting on her tunic. “Bless the girl!” she said, “what a pair of blockheads you are! Why didn’t you remind me before?”
“Well, ma’am, I didn’t exactly like to.”
“Like to! What do you think you’re there for?”
“You don’t like us to interrupt, ma’am, sometimes, when you’re examining,” said the girl sulkily.
“Don’t argue!” shouted Miss Hardcastle, wheeling round and hitting her cheek a resounding blow with the palm of her hand. “Look sharp. Get the prisoner into the car. Don’t wait to button up her dress, idiots. I’ll be after you the moment I’ve dipped my face in cold water.”
A few seconds later, pinioned between Daisy and Kitty, but still close to Miss Hardcastle (there seemed to be room for five in the back of the car), Jane found herself gliding through the darkness. “Better go through the town as little as possible, Joe,” said Miss Hardcastle’s voice. “It’ll be pretty lively by now. Go on to the Asylum and work down those little streets at the back of the close.” There seemed to be all sorts of strange noises and lights about. At places, too, there seemed to be a great many people. Then there came a moment when Jane found that the car had drawn up. “What the hell are you stopping for?” said Miss Hardcastle. For a second or two there was no answer from the driver except grunts and the noise of unsuccessful attempts to start up the engine. “What’s the matter?” repeated Miss Hardcastle sharply. “Don’t know, ma’am,” said the driver, still working away. “God!” said Miss Hardcastle, “can’t you even look after a car? Some of you people want a little humane remedial treatment yourselves.” The street in which they were was empty but, to judge by the noise, it was near some other street which was very full and very angry. The man got out, swearing under his breath, and opened the bonnet of the car. “Here,” said Miss Hardcastle. “You two hop out. Look round for another car—anywhere within five minutes’ walk—commandeer it. If you don’t find one, be back here in ten minutes, whatever happens. Sharp.” The two other policemen alighted, and disappeared at the double. Miss Hardcastle continued pouring abuse on the driver and the driver continued working at the engine. The noise grew louder. Suddenly the driver straightened himself and turned his face (Jane saw the sweat shining on it in the lamplight) towards Miss Hardcastle. “Look here, miss,” he said, “that’s about enough, see? You keep a civil tongue in your head, or else come and mend the bloody car yourself if you’re so bloody clever.”
“Don’t you try taking that line with me, Joe,” said Miss Hardcastle, “or you’ll find me saying a little word about you to the ordinary police.”
“Well, suppose you do?” said Joe. “I’m beginning to think I might as well be in clink as in your bucking tea-party. ’Struth! I’ve been in the military police and I’ve been in the Black and Tans and I’ve been in the B.U.F., but they were all ruddy picnics to this lot. A man got some decent treatment there. And he had men over him, not a bloody lot of old women.”
“Yes, Joe,” said Miss Hardcastle, “but it wouldn’t be clink for you this time if I passed the word to the ordinary cops.”
“Oh, it wouldn’t, wouldn’t it? I might have a story or two to tell about yourself if it came to that.”
“For the lord’s sake speak to him nicely, ma’am,” wailed Kitty. “They’re coming. We’ll catch it proper.” And in fact men running, by twos and threes, had begun to trickle into the street.
“Foot it, girls,” said Miss Hardcastle. “Sharp’s the word. This way.”
Jane found herself hustled out of the car and hurried along between Daisy and Kitty. Miss Hardcastle walked in front. The little party darted across the street and up an alley on the far side.
“Any of you know the way here?” asked Miss Hardcastle when they had walked a few steps.
“Don’t know, I’m sure, ma’am,” said Daisy.
“I’m a stranger here myself, ma’am,” said Kitty.
“Nice useful lot I’ve got,” said Miss Hardcastle. “Is there anything you do know?”
“It doesn’t seem to go no farther, ma’am,” said Kitty.
The alley had indeed turned out to be a dead end. Miss Hardcastle stood still for a moment. Unlike her subordinates, she did not seem to be frightened, but only pleasantly excited, and rather amused at the white faces and shaky voices of the girls.
“Well,” she said, “this is what I call a night out. You’re seeing life, Daisy, aren’t you? I wonder are any of these houses empty? All locked anyway. Perhaps we’d best stay where we are.”
The shouting in the street they had left had grown louder and they could see a confused mass of humanity surging vaguely in a westward direction. Suddenly it became much louder still and angrier.
“They’ve caught Joe,” said Miss Hardcastle. “If he can make himself heard he’ll send them up here. Blast! This means losing the prisoner. Stop blubbering, Daisy, you little fool. Quick. We must go down into the crowd separately. We’ve a very good chance of getting through. Keep your heads. Don’t shoot, whatever you do. Try to get to Billingham at the cross roads. Ta-ta Babs! The quieter you keep the less likely we are to meet again.”
Miss Hardcastle set off at once. Jane saw her stand for a few seconds on the fringes of the crowd and then disappear into it. The two girls hesitated and then followed. Jane sat down on a doorstep. The burns were painful where her dress had rubbed against them, but what chiefly troubled her was extreme weariness. She was also deadly cold and a little sick. But, above all, tired; so tired she could drop asleep almost. . . .
She shook herself. There was complete silence all about her: she was colder than she had ever been before and her limbs ached. “I believe I have been asleep,” she thought. She rose, stretched herself, and walked down the desolate lamp-lit alley into the larger street. It was quite empty except for one man in a railway uniform who said “Good morning, miss” as he walked smartly past. She stood for a moment, undecided, and then began to walk slowly to her right. She put her hand in the pocket of the coat which Daisy and Kitty had flung round her before leaving the flat and found three-quarters of a large slab of chocolate. She was ravenous and began munching it. Just as she finished she was overtaken by a car which drew up shortly after it had passed her. “Are you all right?” said a man, poking his head out.
“Were you hurt in the riot?” said a woman’s voice from within.
“No . . . not much . . . I don’t know,” said Jane stupidly.
The man stared at her and then got out.