Tea on Sunday by Lettice Cooper

Author:Lettice Cooper [Cooper, Lettice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XVII

THE LONDON RUSH-HOUR was at its worst that evening. The snow had changed to a cold, sleety rain that gushed down as if every pipe in the heavens had burst on to the heads of the coughing, sneezing bus-queues. Anthony pulled the hood of his dufflecoat so far forward that he could only see the dripping hem of the mackintosh worn by the man in front of him; he thrust his bare, froggy hands into his pockets, and stepped forward doggedly whenever a few people from the front of the queue managed to get on to a bus.

All this made Anthony long more intensely for Lisa and the warmth of their flat. He did not know what she was doing this evening, he never did know what she was doing. He was afraid she might be out with some of her new friends, and he would have to scratch up a meal for himself out of the cold remnants in the fridge. In that case, he decided, he would take any money he had and borrow any of Lisa’s that he could find lying about, and go round to the local and get stoned. After all he was under suspicion for murder; he had a feeling that his job, which was not much of a job anyway, was precarious; he had rejected the world he had grown up in without being able to find a real foothold in another one; and his wife seemed to be drifting away from him. Nothing would be any use but oblivion.

As he went down the area steps he saw a light shining-through the red velvet curtains that they had bought in the Portobello Road. He fitted his key into the lock and heard voices, Lisa and a man talking … now for God’s sake who? He felt in his present mood that he couldn’t stand any of her friends. Another red curtain covered the doorway into the room. He pushed it aside, and saw Lisa lying across a chair, her long legs in violet velvet trousers hanging over the arm. One embroidered Turkish slipper lay on the floor, the other dangled from her big toe. Anthony looked quickly to see who the man in the chair opposite hers was, and saw with surprise, immediately tinged with resignation, that it was Inspector Corby. The Inspector with his hard, compact body, and his bright, probing brown eyes seemed inevitably to have become part of their lives. Anthony noticed that Lisa had a half-full glass, but that Inspector Corby was not drinking. He felt a small shiver of apprehension.

“I’m acquitted,” Lisa said.

“I came round to tell Mrs Seldon that we have found her taxi. The driver remembers picking up a young lady in a black cloak at the Savoy and driving her to Porlock Square. He remembers seeing some people standing on the doorstep of No. 31, and wondering why somebody didn’t let them in. He knows she arrived there after four because it was his last fare of the day—he packed it in and went home to tea.

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