The Pursued (1935) by C. S. Forester

Author:C. S. Forester [Forester, C. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780141971346
Publisher: Penguin UK
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

13

In every respect except the continued good weather Saturday was a terrible day. In the earliest morning Marjorie and Mrs Clair had to be up and about, completing the packing and then putting the house into ideal order. Another family would be moving in that afternoon, and the result of their efforts would be under the close inspection of another housewife, who would be able to criticize unhampered by their presence. Even though they could never hear what the newcomers would think, they could not bear the thought of being considered slovenly. Everything had to be cleaned and dusted and polished; and there were arrangements to be made about the trifling bit of laundry work to be done; and the milkman had to be waylaid and paid; and the inventory gone through with the caretaker, and agreement reached regarding breakages; and the keys had to be handed over; and the luggage—which seemed incomprehensibly to have doubled in bulk since their arrival—had to be packed into the car.

By the time Marjorie took her seat beside George she was already tired; nor was the journey to London any rest to her, because Derrick, with complete lack of consideration, chose this day of all days to develop car sickness. He nearly succeeded in making Marjorie sick as well. Ted was standing at the gate in the hot midday sunshine when at last the car drew up outside No. 77 Harrison Way. Marjorie climbed stiffly out of the car and put Derrick (who had sat on her knee for the last half of the journey) on his legs on the pavement. She tried to greet Ted in a way which would satisfy him and not rouse George’s jealousy.

The sun was hot overhead, the road was dusty the little front garden with its few unambitious plants looked neglected and forlorn. The house looked somehow derelict and shabby, and the paint was peeling from the gate upon which Ted was leaning.

‘Hullo, old son,’ said Ted to Derrick.

It seemed to Marjorie as if she was hearing his voice for the first time; it sounded strange and unmusical. Derrick hung back shyly—it was three weeks since he had seen his father, and no one had taken any pains to keep him familiar with his memory. The others struggled out of the car, and approached the gate, laden with parcels. Marjorie saw the upper front curtain twitch at No. 69, and knew that Mrs Posket was watching their arrival.

‘Good morning, Mr Grainger,’ said Ely. He did his best to speak naturally, but he was conscious of awkwardness.

‘Good afternoon,’ said Ted.

That told Marjorie that Ted was expecting to be given dinner today and that he was hungry, and that he considered their arrival over-late.

‘Is there anything in the house to eat, Ted?’ she asked hurriedly

‘A bit of bread three days old,’ said Ted. ‘Nothing much else.’

‘I’ll have to run down to the shops and buy something, then,’ said Marjorie.

‘I think you will,’ said Ted.

‘I’ll run you down in the car, Marjorie,’ interposed Ely, returning from having piled the luggage on the doorstep.

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