‘You’ll never be anything, she said.’
‘What a thing to say.’
‘So I was never anything, Mrs Gandell, that’s how it is.’
‘Dreadful, Jones, dreadful. How old were you then?’
‘Fifteen.’
‘Makes it even worse, Jones.’
‘Doesn’t matter now,’ he said. She saw his trembling mouth.
‘Where did you live?’
‘In the mountains.’
‘Where?’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ Jones said. ‘But you’re not going to go, are you?’
‘Of course not.’
‘I never want to leave here, Mrs Gandell, never.’
‘What happened after she said you’d never be anything, Jones?’
‘Nothing. She went one way, and I went another, and whenever I came to a place I knew I’d do what I was told, and then I’d go on to another place, and it was the same there, and then I came here. Remember that. I carried your bags from the station. It was a very cold afternoon, the wind was East.’
‘Fancy you remembering that,’ she said.
‘Sometimes I don’t want to remember, Mrs Gandell.’
‘Of course not, Jones.’
And at last she got him into bed, put away the tray, and joined him. She switched out the light. They lay in the darkness, and for a few moments there was utter silence. He was restless beside her. She thought there were more words to come; she thought it would be better when they were free.
‘Where is she now?’
‘In another kingdom now, Mrs Gandell,’ he said, and she knew that she could never say she was sorry.
‘My mother used to write me twice a year, Jones,’ very softly into the darkness.
‘Did she?’
‘Yes. But not now. She’s very old, Jones.’
‘Oh!’
‘Eighty-five.’
‘Think of that,’ he said, and he came nearer, put a hand on her shoulder, and whispered, ‘But you really won’t go?’
‘You must believe me, Jones.’
‘Yes, Mrs Gandell. Sorry I was late.’
‘Yesterday’s Jones,’ she thought, ‘last week’s, last month’s.’
‘Shall we forget it?’ she asked. ‘It’s time we went to sleep.’
‘If you left here, I wouldn’t know what to do. Honest.’
‘I am not leaving, Jones. I absolutely swear it.’
‘The people will come.’
‘Indeed they will.’
‘And Mr Prothero and his friend will be here next week.’
‘The ice is cracking, Jones. Remember, you always told me it would.’
‘I remember.’
‘I know you are lonely, Jones, I know what you are, I know what you want.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Gandell,’ he said, and she felt his lips about her neck. ‘I’m so glad you’re not leaving here, leaving me.’
