Chapter 10

DALE had said that Lisle was driving them into Ledlington. Actually he took the wheel himself. It was Lisle’s own car, but, like so many good drivers, to be driven by somebody else fretted him past bearing. Lisle was a good deal relieved to see him get into the driver’s seat. She would have left the place beside him to Alicia, but he called out such an impatient “Nonsense – that’s your place!” that she slipped into it without further protest.

Alicia shut the rear door a little harder than she need have done. She had thrown on a vivid black and white check coat over her sleeveless linen and bound her dark curls with a white band. Her colour stood high and her eyes were bright. Lisle, weatherwise, took comfort from the thought that she would not have to drive Alicia back. Dale drove slowly for him. He had pushed Aimée Mallam off by making what she had stigmatised as an absurd fuss about having plenty of time to catch his train, but now that they were on the road, he dawdled up the steep, crooked lane between Tanfield village and the main Ledlington road. The way ran level from there, level and rather high, but the village was tucked into a hollow, with a long gentle slope down from Tanfield Court, and that steep crooked climb to the Ledlington Road.

“Are we going to a funeral?” said Alicia tartly from her back seat.

Dale made no answer. He was frowning over the wheel. After a moment he said abruptly,

“When did you have this car out last, Lisle?”

She said, “Yesterday.”

He went on frowning.

“Notice anything odd about the steering?”

“Oh, no. Is anything the matter?”

He was still frowning and intent.

“No – I don’t know – I thought it felt odd just now on the hill. You’d better be careful coming back. Get Evans to take her out and test her. That’s where we’re going to miss Pell – best mechanic I’ve ever had.”

Lisle said “Evans-” and would have done better to hold her tongue.

“Evans is a driver. I don’t suppose you know the difference. Women are all damned fools about machinery, and you’re worse than most. I was a damned fool myself to let Pell go.”

Alicia laughed.

“Oh, darling, you couldn’t possibly keep a mechanic who played fast and loose with the village maidens – not with Lisle in the house. Of course he had to go.”

Lisle straightened herself. She spoke to Dale, not to Alicia.

“It was your own decision. The Coles are your own tenants. You said he must go after Miss Cole came up and saw you about Cissie.”

She met a scowling look, but her own held firm. Tanfield and Tanfield’s tenants – that touched his pride. And Pell was an outsider from Packham way. Alicia had no business to butt in – it wasn’t her affair. He said in a grumbling voice,

“Anything wrong with the steering puts the wind up me.”

Lisle said, “It was all right yesterday.” The question of the steering did not disturb her at all. Dale was used to driving a much larger car. Small cars irked him, and he never drove hers without finding something wrong – ignition too far advanced, brakes not properly adjusted – there was always something. She was a fair driver, but like most women she knew and cared nothing about the mechanism. She therefore gave no more attention to Dale’s remarks about the steering than to hope that he was not going to be vexed.

Alicia said, “Fuss!” in a sweet, provocative voice, but for the second time got no answer.

Dale talked about cars in general and the shortcomings of Lisle’s car in particular the whole way to Ledlington station. He was obviously out of humour, not only with the car but with its owner. Quite definitely Lisle received the impression that it was her fault if there was something wrong with the steering. And behind that impression another one – if she had a better car Dale would be better pleased. And why hadn’t she a better car? She had plenty of money. If she kept a car which was a reproach to her husband – well, I ask you, doesn’t it show a mean streak somewhere? None of these things got into words – Dale’s manner said them, not Dale’s tongue. But once at least his manner spoke so plainly that Alicia laughed in obvious enjoyment.

When they reached the station, however, there was a change. He put his hand on Lisle’s and squeezed it.

“You’re such a fool about cars,” he said. “All women are, but you’re worse than most.”

Only the words were harsh. His voice melted to her, and his eyes smiled. She turned to meet them, suddenly radiant.

“I’m not!”

“Oh, aren’t you just? Now look here, darling, I’m not happy about that steering. Get it looked at. You’d better do it now. Take her round to Langham’s.”

“Oh, but-”

“You’d better. I should feel happier about it.”

He let go of her hand, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and jumped out.

“See you tomorrow,” he said. He waved to them both and was gone.

Lisle watched him out of sight before she started the car. Perhaps this was one of the things, all small in themselves, which brought Alicia’s temper to the breaking-point. As the car moved, she spoke. There was a sweet, dangerous tension in her voice.

“Well, I suppose you like being babied like that. Pretty sickening, I should have thought. ‘Darling, you’re a fool’!” She dropped her voice to mimic Dale’s with surprising accuracy. “I’d like to see a man talk to me like that!”

Something inside Lisle said in a whisper, “You’d like Dale to say it to you – oh, yes, you would.” But her lips said nothing. She turned the car carefully and drove out of the station yard. Langham’s garage was half way down the street on the right. She had to go there anyhow to drop Alicia. Every second counted heavily until she could get rid of Alicia. She mustn’t answer back, she mustn’t quarrel. It would vex Dale beyond words if she had a quarrel with Alicia. She must drop her at the garage and get away quickly.

But Dale had said wait and have the steering tested.

Oh, no, she couldn’t – not with Alicia like this. Evans could see to it at home, and Dale wouldn’t really mind as long as it was all right.

And all the time Alicia was talking with a kind of soft fury.

“Can’t you stick up for yourself at all – not to Dale – not to anyone? Haven’t you got a drop of red blood in you? I don’t believe you have! Milk and water – that’s what you’ve got in your veins! How long do you think Dale’s going to put up with milk and water?” A little bitter laugh broke through. “Haven’t you even got the spirit to damn me for saying that? Upon my soul, I don’t believe you have!”

Lisle drew the car in to the kerb. The garage entrance lay just ahead. She opened the door, got out, and stood there, pale but not trembling now. She opened the rear door and waited until Alicia got out.

They stood there together for a moment, and now they were both pale. Alicia without colour was Alicia spoiled. There were marks like bruises under her eyes. She looked her age, and more. But Lisle looked very young – heart-rendingly young, like a child accused of some fault it does not understand. She said,

“Are you sure your car will be ready? I’ll wait whilst you find out.”

Alicia stared at her.

“Wait? You’ll have to wait for your own car, baby. Won’t you? You needn’t wait for mine – it’s ready.”

Lisle said nothing. She got into the car and drove away.