An Unofficial rose

'I can't remember exactly what he said, said Miranda, 'but he seemed to think he might want to come back. He didn't seem at all sure. You know what Daddy is.

'But you must remember! said A

'How can I? said Miranda. 'I was so miserable. I am so miserable. Her voice was tearful.

'Dear, I'm so sorry! said A

The white moth, who had been silent for some minutes, fell out of the lamp with singed wings. It writhed on the floor.

Miranda leaned over to look at it. 'Better kill it, she said. 'It won't fly again. What won't fly is better killed. Better dead than crawling. It's burnt its wings off.

A

Colder herself, A

'Oh, certainly, said Miranda. 'He talked about coming back. She began to rearrange her bed with an air of casualness and tossed two dolls off on to the floor.

A

She turned back to the little crumpled room and Miranda watching her. The cord twitched her back. She said, 'But if he doesn't come back and we do get divorced. Well, then I might think of another marriage. And I felt I should just say this to you, though it's something so vague and really unlikely. These were blundering incompetent words.

'Do be clear, said Miranda. 'Do you mean that you're thinking now of marrying someone in particular?

'Yes: 'Who?

'Felix Meecham.

'I see, said Miranda. She showed no surprise. She reached down for one of the dolls she had dislodged. 'Why are you suddenly so keen on Felix?

'It's not sudden, said A

'There was nothing to know! said A

Miranda was silent, pursing her lips and jogging the doll before her. Does she believe me? thought A

After a moment Miranda said, 'Of course you must please yourself. It's your life'.

'I just wanted to speak to you, said A

'I don't know him particularly, said Miranda. 'I've' hardly ever spoken to him. And I'm not sure that I like him.

'Oh, come!

'Daddy doesn't like him either, said Miranda. 'Perhaps he guessed: 'I've told you, there was nothing to guess!

Miranda raised her eyebrows to the doll.

A

As if catching her thought Miranda said. 'You know Daddy could, come home at any time. Any minute now we might hear a car.

They both listened, holding each other's eyes. The great silence seemed pregnant with sound as if the other listeners were holding their breath.

A

'I was punishing it, said Miranda. 'It's an Assyrian torture. She pushed the bedclothes aside and began to get out of bed.

'A rather savage punishment. Don't get cold, dear. I'll say good night now. Don't be bothered by anything I said.

, Wait a minute, said Miranda. Boyish in her pyjamas, head thrown back, she faced her mother across the table. They were almost of a height.

'Whatever Daddy does it would make no difference.

'What do you mean?

'You can't get divorced in a church.

'Opinions differ about those things, said A

'So you'd still be married to him, said Miranda, 'and he'd still be married to you. Suppose he wanted to come back later on? If you'd run off with someone else he wouldn't be able to. He might come back crying for you and looking for you and you wouldn't be there. But if you waited for him it would be all right. He would always have somewhere to come back to. This would always be his home really and if he were unhappy he could come back to it. She spoke vehemently and a thin speckled flush covered her face.

A

She reached out to the table and pulled something out of the heap and held it to her face. She began to shake with convulsive sobs. 'I love Daddy. No one must have his place. I don't want to be a step-daughter.

A

Chapter Thirty-One

FELIX brought the very dark blue Mercedes screeching to a halt. Its front wheels seemed to have got on to some sort of flower bed. He did not pause to investigate, but jumped out and looked up at the dark front of the house. There was no light in A

He fumbled in the dark hall for the light switch and then stood looking about him in the rather dim illumination. The shabby hall, full of crouching furniture, looked sinister, a place through which a midnight agent might glide to make an arrest. Felix felt a sort of fright which was really fright of himself, fear of the fear he might, by his sudden silent entry, cause. Yet perhaps it was he himself who was the victim. He had not understood A

He went into the drawing-room, stepping softly, and turned on the lights. The room looked desolate as if it had not been occupied for weeks. It smelt musty. He turned an electric fire on. Sparks flew out of it and one bar seemed to be out of order. There was a smell of burning. He took off his coat. Of course he would not go and wake A