Janet looked over the stairs and saw Edna Ford in a grey flannel dressing-gown with her hair scraped back and done up in aluminium curlers. The light shone on her, on the tears that were running down her face. Janet had heard about people wringing their hands, but she had never thought of it as a thing that anyone really ever did. But Edna was wringing her hands as she walked and wept. The thin fingers clung and twisted, the hands were twined together and strained apart. She had the look of a woman who has been stripped of everything and left in a desolate wilderness.

Whatever had happened or was happening, Janet felt that it was not for her to see. She drew back into the dark passage from which she had come.

She had not reached the nursery door, when she heard a sound that brought her running back. It wasn’t loud, but there was no mistaking it. Edna had given a kind of choking gasp and come down. She could have tripped on the stair, or she could have turned giddy and lost her balance, but there she was, about five or six steps up, with an arm thrown out and her face hidden against it.

Janet ran down barefoot.

‘Mrs Ford – are you hurt?’

Edna lifted up her head and stared at her. Her face had a naked look, the pale eyes reddened, the sallow skin stained with tears.

‘Mrs Ford – are you hurt?’

There was a faint negative movement of the head.

‘Let me help you up.’

The movement was repeated.

‘But you can’t stay here!’

Edna said in an extinguished voice,

‘What does it matter?’

Janet had to guess at the words. She said firmly,

‘You can’t stay here. Let me help you to your room. I’ll make you a cup of tea. You are like ice.’

After a minute or two Edna began to draw long sobbing breaths and to sit up. Her room faced the top of the stairs. Janet managed to get her there and into her bed again. All the household knew that Mr and Mrs Ford did not share a room. He had a good large dressing-room separated from his wife’s by a bathroom. When Janet asked if she should call him Edna caught her hand and held it in an icy grip.

‘No – no! Promise you won’t do that!’

‘Then I’ll just get you a cup of tea and a hot-water bottle. I have everything in the nursery.’

When she came back in her green dressing-gown with the tray and the hot-water bottle, Edna Ford had stopped weeping. She thanked Janet, and she drank the tea. When she put down the cup she said,

‘I was upset. I hope you won’t speak of it.’

‘Of course I won’t. Are you warmer now?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

There was a long pause, after which she said,

‘It was nothing. I thought I heard a sound. I went down, but of course there was no one there. It was just that some thing startled me. I’m rather a nervous person, I’m afraid. It suddenly came over me that I had done a very dangerous thing going down like that, and I had one of my giddy attacks. I wouldn’t like anyone to know about it.’

Janet left the bedside light burning and took away the tray. As she came to the nursery passage, Geoffrey Ford was crossing the hall below. He was in his pyjamas with a handsome black and gold dressing-gown belted over them. She made haste to get back to her own room.

Chapter Fifteen

Janet gave Stella her breakfast next morning and took her to the Vicarage without seeing any of the others. When she returned they were all in the dining-room, Edna pouring out the tea and Geoffrey dispensing fishcakes as if there had been no midnight excursions. Edna looked a little more run-in-the-wash than usual, but her manner had not changed. She found small fidgeting faults with the service, the weather, and in fact with everything. The toast was not fresh – ‘Mrs Simmons will make it too soon. It is incredible how often one has to say a thing before one can get it done.’

Geoffrey gave his pleasant easy laugh.

‘Perhaps, my dear, if you didn’t say it quite so often-’

Her eyes were still reddened with last night’s weeping. They dwelt on him for a moment.

‘There are always things that have to be said, Geoffrey.’

He looked back at her, handsome and good-humoured.

‘Well, my dear, I can’t see the use of worrying yourself to skin and bone. You wear yourself out, and people mostly go on taking their own way. You can’t change human nature. Live and let live – but I suppose you’ll tell me to take my own advice and let you do as you wish. How many people are coming to this do of Adriana’s tomorrow?’

Meriel gave a scornful laugh.

‘Half the county, I should think! We shan’t be able to hear ourselves speak, and everyone will hate it like poison! But Adriana will have staged her come-back, which is all that matters – to her!’

Mabel Preston wanted to know who was coming.

‘It really is tomorrow, isn’t it? Will the Duchess come – did Adriana ask her? I saw her in the distance once, opening a bazaar. She was very distinguished-looking, but I wouldn’t have called her pretty. Of course you don’t need looks if you are a duchess. My goodness! I don’t suppose I’ve got anything half smart enough to wear! Not that these high-up people are always smart – not by any means. Why, I saw the old Duchess of Hochstein once at a charity bazaar, and she was really what you would call dowdy. Very stout, you know, and miles behind the fashion. And she was Royalty!’

Janet went up to the nursery. Ninian followed her.

‘We’ve missed the nine-thirty, but there’s the ten-twenty-nine. You’d better hurry up and dress.’

She turned on him, her eyes bright with anger.

‘Ninian, have done with this! It’s nonsense!’

He propped himself against the mantelpiece.

‘A serious expedition to town to take a flat is not my idea of nonsense.’

‘I have no intention of taking a flat!’

‘Haven’t you then? That’s very interesting. I’d better make a note of it in case I forget. Aren’t you making it a bit difficult? It’s not so easy to get anything done if you won’t let yourself have any intentions.’

‘Ninian!’

‘All right, all right, if you won’t come you won’t, but don’t say I didn’t ask you. And when I’ve taken the flat without anyone to help me, don’t tell me the linoleum is foul and you can’t live with the curtains – that’s all. I must rush for the bus.’

It was about an hour later that Meriel burst into the room. There was an unusual amount of colour in her cheeks and her voice was angry.

‘Really, Adriana is the limit!’

Janet finished writing, ‘Two blue smocks – won’t let down any more-’

Meriel stamped her foot.

‘Why don’t you answer me? What are you doing?’

‘There didn’t seem to be anything to answer. I’m making out a list of Stella’s clothes.’

‘Why?’

‘Star wants it.’

Meriel threw back her head and laughed.

‘Clothes! There’s no getting away from them! I’ve just come from Adriana’s room, and what do you suppose she’s doing? The place looks like a jumble sale – it’s got clothes laid out everywhere! And do you know what she’s doing with them? She is giving most of them away to that damned Mabel!’

‘Why shouldn’t she?’

Meriel made a dramatic gesture.

‘Because they are all perfectly good clothes! Because she might have asked me if I wanted any of them! Because all she cares about is putting herself over big and having that silly old fool gawping at her and saying how marvellous she is! Do you know, there’s a coat there I’ve wanted ever since she got it! I’d look wonderful in it, and Mabel makes everything look as if it had come out of a rag-bag!’

‘Why didn’t you ask Adriana to give it to you?’

‘I did – I did! And what do you suppose she said? I’ll swear she was just going to give it to Mabel, but when I asked for it she said oh, no, she didn’t think she could spare it! It was so nice for the garden, and she thought she would keep it in the cloakroom so as to have it handy if she just wanted to go out for a little!’