Marion said: ‘I’m sorry if I gave you a fright, but I came upstairs, and heard your young man reading to Janet and I didn’t want to disturb them. And then I thought, how nice to sit in the dark.’ Anna heard the words ‘Your young man’ which had a lisping coyness about them; as from a society matron, flattering a young woman? — she thought that within five minutes of meeting Marion there was always this jarring moment; and then reminded herself of the world Marion had been brought up in. She said: ‘I’m sorry I sounded cross. I’m tired. I got caught in the rush hour.’ She was drawing curtains, and restoring to her room the quiet severity she needed from it. ‘But Anna, you’re so spoiled, us poor ordinary people have to face these things every day.’ Anna glanced, startled, at Marion; who had never, in the whole of her life, had to face anything as ordinary as rush hours. She saw Marion’s face: innocent, bright-eyed, full of enthusiasm. She said: ‘I need a drink, do you want one?’ — remembered, then was glad she had forgotten, and offered Marion a drink with genuine casualness; for now she said: ‘Oh yes, I’d love just a little one. Tommy says it’s much braver to decide to drink just normally, instead of giving it up altogether. Do you think he’s right? I do. I do think he’s so clever and so strong.’ ‘Yes, but it must be very much more difficult.’ Anna poured whisky into glasses, her back turned to Marion, trying to think: Is she here because she knows I’ve just seen Richard? And if another reason, what? She said, ‘I’ve just come from seeing Richard,’ and Marion said, taking her glass which she set beside her with an apparently genuine lack of interest: ‘Have you? Well you always were such chums.’ Anna refused to wince at the word chums; noted with alarm her own steadily rising irritation, strengthened the bright beam of her cold intelligence, and heard from upstairs Ivor’s voice bellowing out: ‘Shoot! shouted fifty eager voices and Betty, running for her life across the field, hit the ball straight into the goal. She had done it! The air rang with young cheering voices, and Betty saw the faces of her pals through a mist of happy tears.’

‘I did so adore those marvellous school stories when I was a child,’ said Marion, lisping girlishly.

‘I loathed them.’

‘But you always were such an intellectual little thing.’

Anna now sat down with her whisky and examined Marion. She was wearing an expensive brown suit, obviously new. Her dark, slightly greying hair was newly waved. Her hazel eyes were bright, her cheeks pink. She was the image of an abundant, happy, lively matron.

‘And that’s why I’ve come to see you,’ Marion was saying. ‘It was Tommy’s idea. We need your help, Anna. Tommy’s had the most marvellous idea, I do think he’s such a fine clever boy, and we both thought we should ask you.’