‘Colonel, Colonel - - - what Colonel, what Colonel?’
She hated this, she hated the sight of him there, mumbling the words, trembling visibly, and suddenly shouted in his face, ‘You are not the only one that is lonely.’
And to break the following silence repeated it in an even louder, angrier voice. ‘You are not.’
He caught her hands, suddenly realised she was there, close.
‘What Colonel, Margiad?’
‘I did not ask her.’
Defeated, angry, humiliated, he said, ‘Who?’
‘Her.’
‘Is that the truth, sister?’
‘I do not lie to you.’
Margiad seemed no longer there, even her voice seemed distant.
‘There was only one Colonel ever in these parts, and he used to live at a place called Y Briach. But he’s been dead for years.’
‘I said you’re not the only one that is lonely,’ and screamed it in his face.
‘Is this true?’
Her own casualness surprised her. ‘I understand they have lunch together once a week.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I thought you wouldn’t,’ she replied. ‘You understand so little.’
‘But .…’
The words were knives. ‘But what?’
‘Nothing,’ he said, his voice fading, ‘Nothing.’
‘You had better go,’ she said, ‘I want to go to bed.’
He sat up, half rose, and exclaimed in a loud voice, ‘I can’t believe it, I can’t.’
‘Then don’t,’ and left him sitting there and went back to bed.
‘I shall put out the light,’ she said. ‘You had better go.’
‘It’s impossible, imposs .…’
‘You should ask your friend, Jones who works at that horrible hotel.’
‘He is not my friend.’
‘You’ve been seen talking to him on occasion, right outside the place. Perhaps you were only enquiring the time of day.’
He got up, walked slowly to the door. ‘This has been the most terrible day,’ he said.
‘She won’t always be there, Mervyn.’
‘We seem hardly like brother and sister,’ he said.
‘Perhaps we are not.’
He immediately closed the door, returned to the bed, removed her hand from the switch, and sat down. ‘Margiad?’
‘Well?’
‘Why are we tormenting each other like this?’
‘If that hotel lasts another three months, only Mrs Gandell and that lickspittle of hers will be surprised.’
He knelt down, he tried to take the hand that she withdrew.
‘You wouldn’t really go, Margiad, leave me, now? You wouldn’t.’
‘Don’t make an exhibition of yourself,’ she said.
Again his hand was reaching for her own, and again she pulled it back.
