i f6c06dd9cf3fe221 by Unknown (100 books to read in a lifetime .txt) 📗

quite incapable of thinking; he could only feel. As he stood looking down into the frozen garden, some atom of respect that he still retained for his wife cried out . Don't let this be!

She couldn't have done it. But, then, she had done it, and with what success!

He stared again at the box, and all that it implied rushed into his mind, searing it as with a hot iron. Right from the beginning, from the night of their marriage she must have practised this. From where had she obtained such knowledge? she was barely twenty at the time.

She had deliberately killed . yes, that was the word . she had killed every chance of giving him a child from the word go, and he had never tor a second suspected it. How could he? So gentle, so fragile, so .

virginal a creature. She had fooled him, oh, so easily! How she must have been laughing all these years!

He could see her now, with that pathetic air, when he had spoken of children. So hurt had she looked that at times it had wrung his heart, feeling that she suffered the miss as greatly as be. Explained now,

'also was the freezing attitude which could leave him distraught and the rages which his spontaneous love-making would bring about . there were the times when she had -been unprepared. And all these years he had been duped by that delicate, gentle creature! Of how many sons had she deprived him? Had she withheld herself after having given him one son, how different life would have been 1 . His son. His mind conjured up a boy of nearly fourteen, bursting with vitality, eyes bright with the eagerness of life. He would be home for the holidays now, turning the house upside down, thumping up the stairs calling .

"Father! ... where are you, father?"

Rodney listened. The cry of "Father 1 father 1' reechoed from his mind through the stillness of the house. He shuddered violently and ground his teeth. Waves of i37

hatred swept through him. Where was she? If he could only get his hands on her!

Recognising the strength of his emotion, a fear took its place and he realised he must not see her yet, but must get out of the house and try to walk this off, giving himself time to let the blow settle and rest among the many hurts she had dealt him. For he knew that, should he encounter her now, he would kill her as surely as she had killed his sons.

He locked the box in his suitcase, and put on his greatcoat and went downstairs. Mrs. Summers hurried out of the kitchen: "It's all ready, sir. I hope you enjoy ..." She stopped, taking in his outdoor apparel and, most of all, the change in him from half an hour ago. He looked ill, as if he had had a'shock. But there'd been nobody in the house except Doctor Swinburn. Ah! perhaps that was ill He had found out about him and the missis; Although, what with them separate rooms an'

all, you wouldn't have thought he'd have minded like this. But there was nowt so funny as men; just look at her Sep.

"I'm sorry, cook, I've got to go out." His hands fumbled with his hat.

"That's all right, sir, that's all right," she said gently.

"Perhaps you'll feel like it when you come back."

"Yes. I may feel more like it when I return."

She watched him leave. The straightness had gone out of his back, he seemed humped, somehow. She returned to her kitchen and sat down; and suddenly began to cry, without knowing the reason.

It had been three o'clock when Rodney had left the house. He had walked right through Shields to the sea. But there were soldiers everywhere, mostly near the sea, which he was wont to seek as a balm.

He had walked back through the town, choosing the back streets and alleys like someone trying to escape, through Tyne Dock and East Jarrow, and on to the Davidsons. He had turned his mind from the fifteen streets as he passed them in the darkness of the early evening; Kate must not come into this pit of hate which no walking or reasonable thinking seemed to erase.

Peter and Peggy and the two children were having late tea when he walked in on them. In the enthusiasm of shaking hands and exclamations of delight at seeing him, they did not, for the moment, take in his weariness and the drawn, strained look about his eyes. He smiled on the children, but hardly spoke. Michael and Cathleen clambered about him, shouting.

"Where's your beard. Uncle Rodney?"

until Peggy ordered them to finish their tea.

Having packed them off to the kitchen to Anna, she turned to Rodney:

"Sure you won't have something to eat, Rodney?" she asked looking hard at him.

He shook his head.

Well, have a cup of tea then," she pleaded.

"All right, a cup of tea then," he said.

While he drank the tea Peggy and Peter exchanged bewildered glances.

"Anything wrong, Rodney?" asked Peter.

"No, no," Rodney replied, twisting his mouth into a smile.

"How are you finding the new life?" Peggy enquired.

"Oh, all right, Peggy."

"Glad you went?" Peter questioned.

"Yes.... Yes, I'm glad I went."

The almost monosyllabic answers, so unlike Rodney, both puzzled and alarmed them. They sat talking to him, covering up his silences. When he suddenly got to his feet they rose with him, deeply concerned.

"I'll have to go; I'm not very good company tonight. See you both soon."

Peter set him to the door: "What is it, Rodney?" he asked.

"Surely you can tell me."

"Yes, I could tell you, Peter.... Oh, I don't know," he said, running