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| "Julie, you'll have to go." Mark said - continued on page 35 |
This woman had almost succeeded in taking over Harriet's home and husband, but now Harriet was ready to fight back.
ILLUSTRATED BY AUBREY RIXTHE
STORY SO FAR: HARRET is the wife of MARK WINGATE, a university professor and mother of two children, CAROLINE and SIMON. She also has a full-time job as buyer for PAUL FENTON'S interior decorating business.
While Harriet is in France, Mark befriends JULIE BROWN, one of his students who lodges next door. She comes to him hysterical with fear saying that after a party in her room, a man tried to assault her.
When her landlady, MRS. LAVERS, turns her out for breaking house rules, Julie says she has nowhere to go and Mark agrees to her staying in his house, much to the surprise of KATRINA, their housekeeper.
Harriet arrives home earlier than expected and is surprised to find Julie making herself very much at, home. Later, when she sees Julie look at Mark so adoringly, she becomes suspicious and jealous.
Mark allays her fears and Harriet convinces herself that Mark regards Julie as just one of his students in need of a helping hand.
When Julie says that she cannot move to a hostel as arranged because of a measles epidemic, Harriet says she can stay on. Tidying Julie's room, Harriet picks up a diary. It falls open and she reads: He asked me out tonight because his wife is away. . . . Wonderful, wonderful evening.
Feeling ashamed, but unable to help, herself, Harriet reads on, and realizes that Julie is not the innocent she pretends to be.
Paul Fenton has suggested that Harriet shall take charge of his new Paris branch and she asks Mark if he would be willing to move to France. He is furious at the idea and tells her that if she goes to Paris, she goes alone. He walks out in a rage.
Thinking over his marriage, he realizes that Harriet has always had the major say on their way of living. Their domestic staff, the car, and other luxuries, she provides these. But why? They were in a never-ending spiral and it was time he put his foot down.
He recognizes this as a major crisis in his marriage and preoccupied with this, he has temporarily forgotten Julie and how jealous he'd been when he'd seen her with another student, DENIS LAWTON.
Mark arrives home to find Julie there, looking very provocative. He is terribly conscious of her and the fact makes him angry. He makes a sarcastic remark about her boy friend Denis, and delightedly Julie accuses him of being jealous.
Throwing her arms around his neck, she whispers urgently: "Say you love me, Mark." Feeling her close to him, Mark completely loses his head and is kissing her angrily, hungrily, as Harriet walks into the room.
HE gave Julie such a violent shove as he released her that she stumbled and nearly fell.
"Hullo, Harriet," he said weakly.
Julie uttered a wild little moan and ran blindly out of the room. An instant later there was the sound of the front door being slammed. Harriet's voice was toneless. "She'll catch her death of cold in that dress. Go and find her, Mark."
"Listen, Harriet," he began to bluster, "I must talk to you first. Just now, I mean, honestly, it isn't whatever you're thinking"
"Mark" she cut in on him. "I told you to go and find her. Her beastly little duffle coat's hanging in the hall. Take it and go and find her. Before she does something silly."
" But____"
"Please" Her face was dead white but her voice still remained under control. "Get out of here, will you? Go! Can't you understand that I don't want to see you for a little while?"
He had no alternative but to leave.
Once she was alone, Harriet found she was shaking all over and yet there was a kind of numbness in her brain. On the floor by the armchair, Julie's bottle of nail varnish had upset and a scarlet stain spread over the pale grey hearthrug.
She went down on her hands and knees, poured polish remover on a piece of cotton wool and began to scrub viciously at the stain. It only smeared, and she was reminded of the lipstick on Mark's face.
His foolish disarrayed look, the scared guilty expression in his eyes. Well, at least she knew now what was going on. How often before had they sneaked these moments alone together?
A violent, lurching physical jealousy made her sob. "I mustn't," she said aloud to herself. "I must not start thinking about that." It was all at once terribly important that she should keep a check on her emotions, retain some control until she could think what next to do. At any moment, Mark might come back with the girl.
SHE thanked heaven that Katrina had asked to meet a friend arriving from the Continent and was out this evening.
She went down to the basement. Everything had been left ready for a cold supper, only soup to heat up on the gas stove. And Nanny was safely upstairs with the children. The children, it was time to say good night to them; routine must be carefully observed so that no one would suspect anything was wrong.
She went up to the top floor. Nanny was on the landing. "Simon's got one of his sore throats again, Mrs. Wingate. It's this awful fog. I've given him a hot drink and half an aspirin."
He was slightly flushed and very drowsy.
"It hurts, Mummy," he mumbled when he saw her."It hurts a lot."
She wanted to scoop him into her arms, to hold him very tightly and never let him go. "My poor darling," she said softly. "Never mind, tomorrow it might be gone. I'll get you ice cream, like last time. Remember how it helped?" But his eyes had already closed in sleep.
"Mummy," Caroline hissed urgently.
" Ssh" darling. Si’s asleep." She crossed to her daughter's bed.
"Where’s Daddy? Isn't he coming up? "
"He's out. I'll say good night to him for you when he comes in. Good night, precious."
THE front door bell rang. Nanny said, coming into the night nursery, "Shall I answer it, Mrs. Wingate? "
"No, I'm just going down." At all costs keep Nanny confined up here, she thought as she hurried down the stairs. It could be Julie, she'd left her handbag in the drawing-room, or Mark, who'd forgotten his keys or something. Or both of them together. She felt a sort of nervous tension her throat.'
She opened the front door. Outside the fog was swirling in dense patches. Against it she saw the figure of a young man. He had very dark, untidy hair and was muffled up to the neck in a thick college scarf.
"I want to see Mr. Wingate," he said aggressively.
"I’m" sorry, I'm afraid he's out, but can I help you? I am Mrs. Wingate."
He gave her a curiously startled look. She noticed he had dark, moody eyes; at the moment the mood was one of anger.
"I'd like to wait until he comes in," he announced curtly.
"Well, I don't quite know when he'll be back." She forced herself not to peer past his shoulder into the fog or he would have known she was anticipating Mark's return at any moment. "Could you possibly come back tomorrow?"
For a moment he stared at her, embarrassment fighting with anger in his expression. Anger won through. "It's about Julie Brown. Where is she?" he demanded rudely.
A little pulse was beating at the base of her throat. "I'm afraid she isn't here at the moment."
HE glared at her suspiciously. "You mean they're out together? I thought as much!" He couldn’t help it if he were talking to the man's wife, from the look in her eyes she was going through it, too.
She said quickly, "Perhaps you'd better come in for a moment." Somehow she must avoid any fortuitous meeting on the doorstep between this angry young man and Mark particularly if he returned with Julie.
She led the way into the study and switched on the electric fire. She couldn't take him into the drawing-room with Julie's possessions still scattered over the floor. "Won't you sit down and what is your name?"
"Lawton, Denis Lawton." He remained standing, scowling ferociously. "Look, Mrs. Wingate," he suddenly blurted out, "I've got to find Julie Brown. Where is she?"
"At the moment I haven't the faintest idea. If I had I would gladly tell you."
"She's infatuated with him" he muttered, more to himself than to her.
"Are you quite sure you've got the facts right, Mr. Lawton?"
"Of course I'm sure," he said sulkily. "I've seen it right from the beginning."
"Which was when?"
"Soon after term started, when she'd been to a couple of his lectures. He had his eye on her from the beginning. I could see that. She didn't stand a chance."
SHE felt a little sick. "Have you known her long?" she asked.
"Since September. We met in Brittany, on holiday. It seemed too good to be true that we were both going to the same university. Everything was fine between us till he butted in. After that she started standing me up on dates. Like she has tonight."
"She was meeting you tonight?"
"Yes. She never turned up. I don't think I really expected her to" he added darkly. "She even stood me up on my birthday!"
"When was that?" she said dully, not wanting to hear more.
"November the twenty-first."
She thought, how peculiar, this strange young man and I have the same birthday. Suddenly the implication of his words burst through her apathy. "You mean she was supposed to be going out with you on your birthday?"
"Oh, yes," he grumbled. "We'd got the whole thing fixed up: I was to give a party. Cost me a packet, too," he said sourly. "Only the night before she told me how much she was looking forward to it. But she never came. The next day I went along to Mrs. Lavers, but Julie'd left. She wouldn't even tell me where she was living till this week."
Her mind was whirling with dates. "Wait a minute, just now you said Julie was with you the night before your birthday: you mean on the Wednesday evening?"
He looked surprised. "How did you know it was a Wednesday?"
"Never mind how I know," she said impatiently. "Just where was she with you?"
He wondered why this woman with the very blue eyes was suddenly so tense. "At my parents, in Hampstead. I brought her back to Mrs. Lavers afterwards."
"And went up to her room?" Was it possible that this rather nice young man had been the cause of Julie coming screaming for help in the middle of the night?
He answered scornfully, "Good heavens, no! It was long after ten. Mrs. Lavers is a shrew about men after ten o'clock and Julie was scared stiff of her. No, we just chatted on the doorstep for a while and I left her there. I never dreamed she wasn't coming to my party next day. "
This was the first real proof she'd got that Julie's story to Mark about a man in her room was complete fabrication. There was no question about this unhappy young man telling the truth, and if one story was false, so might the others be.
She said slowly, "Have you ever met Julie's aunt?"
"What aunt?"
"The one near Huddersfield where she was brought up."
He looked puzzled. "I think you've got it wrong. Julie wasn't brought up in the north. Her parents live at Greenheath, just outside London."
"Her parents?" She tried to stifle the astonishment in her voice.
"Yes," he' replied moodily. "They don't understand her."
"And you say they live where?"
"Lancaster Avenue." He gave the number. "Her father's a doctor," he added inconsequently. He seemed to be looking inwards, reviewing with his mind's eye some unpleasing experience. "Her mother never stops nattering. Julie couldn't study at home, that's why she took a room."
IT was suddenly very important to get rid of him, to do one other thing before Mark came back. She said, "Mr. Lawton, would you do something for me?" .
"What?"
"Leave me your address or telephone number. I'll speak to Julie when she comes in and I promise to get in touch with you tomorrow."
"And your husband? He was the one I wanted to see."
"Would you mind if I talked to my husband?" she said quietly.
Suddenly the fight seemed to go out of him. "You're fight," he said desperately. "It wouldn't do any good. She's in too deeply now. I'll go." He added awkwardly, "I'm sorry if I've said anything that's been a shock to you"
"That's all right. As a matter of fact, I'm glad you came."
When he had left, she went to the telephone directories. She didn't have to look far down the "Browns." She made a note of the name and telephone number on a piece of paper and slipped it into the pocket of her suit.
There was one more thing to check: the hostel where Julie had been going to stay. She remembered the name and looked it up. As she dialled the number, her heart was beating more quickly.
The secretary had a sharp, brisk voice: No, they had never heard of Julie Brown. She'd certainly never had her name down for a room there. Measles? There was no question of anyone having measles.
VERY slowly, Harriet walked back to the drawing-room. She put a log on the fire, began to tidy up Julie's paraphernalia. To what extent was Mark aware that the whole of the girl's story was pure fiction? Suddenly she realized she was up against a very, very, tough proposition indeed.
She was not sure how long she waited before she heard the front door opening and the sound of subdued voices in the hall. Then Mark came into the room. He was alone.
"I found her," he said awkwardly. "She's gone up to bed now. She says she doesn't want any supper."
She realized she was regarding him quite dispassionately. He'd wiped the lipstick off his face or someone had, but his hair was still ruffled.
"Is she likely to go into hysterics again? " she said coolly.
"I don't think so. I gave her a pretty stiff drink."
So that's why they'd been so long, was it? Sitting in some pub, drinking, talking things over. Talking what over? She began to feel angry.
He said, rather desperately, "Harriet, you must listen, you've got to let me explain."
She broke in coldly, "Not at this moment, Mark. Let's go down and eat and clear away before Katrina gets back."
"All right," he agreed dully.
He found it almost impossible to swallow. He couldn't bear this putting off of the moment when he must tell Harriet what had really happened. He was appalled at the scene he'd just had in the pub with Julie. Thank heavens it had been practically empty. He hoped to goodness the man behind the bar hadn't overheard the girl's awful outburst.
EVEN now he couldn't understand how she had been so misled. You started it, she'd cried, you started it all when you looked at me during your lectures! But he'd never even consciously seen the girl, until that day Harriet went to Paris and he'd been feeling irritable.
And her allegation that she'd known he was in love with her the first time he kissed her, that evening after they'd been to the zoo. But it was she who had kissed him, there was nothing in it, anyhow; it was merely a childish gesture of gratitude for a pleasant day. This had only increased her tears.
What about just now, she'd accused him, what about just now? He'd taken her in his arms, hadn't he? Told her that he loved her? At this, he'd felt dismay turn to panic. He'd had to tell her, in no uncertain terms, that if a pretty girl flung herself at any average normal man, the chances were he wouldn't try to resist her. He could scarcely have chosen a worse moment to say it. I could die, she had moaned piteously. Some how he'd calmed her down. He wanted to tell Harriet all this, to explain his own silly, superficial but perfectly understandable attraction towards Julie. Above all he wanted to ask her why ordinary, decent human kindness on his part should have led to the girl imagining he was in love with her. He cursed himself for his own stupidity, was slightly ashamed of his weakness but, damn it, he hadn't done anything wrong! If he could tell Harriet all this, he knew she would understand. But she only sat, silently regarding him with a kind of cold antagonism he'd never seen before. "Have we got to go on behaving as if we'd never met before?" he asked irritably, once they were in the drawing-room again. The anger within was still there, but she controlled her voice. "All right. Go on, then. Tell me." "What?" he said stupidly, suddenly not knowing where to begin. "Why you were kissing Julie this evening," she replied coldly. "Oh, that!" Men often kiss a pretty girl without it meaning anything." "Do they? " She had a violent urge to hit him. "But of course. It was a silly sort of thing that simply just happened." "Because you found her rather attractive? "But she is attractive! I'm not denying that, but it's not the point. The trouble is." He paused uncertainly. "Look, Harriet, I want you to understand one thing: I don't care tuppence for Julie Brown, believe me, I never want to see the girl again." SHE turned towards him in anger. "I think you tell as many lies as Julie, only you're not nearly so good at them!" she said furiously. He felt bemused. "I don't know what you mean." "Only that every story she's ever told you has been entirely made up: there was no man in her room that night! She was never going to a hostel ! No one had measles!" She bad not intended telling him this until she’d found out more about his own feelings towards Julie, but now her self-control had weakened. "What's more, she deliberately enticed you up to her room that night knowing that Mrs. Lavers would be sure to make a lot of fuss and you'd feel responsible! " He looked at her in complete disbelief. "You must be crazy!" be said. "I’ll admit she may distort the truth a bit, but she couldn't have made all that up. I was with her at the time. I saw the state she was in. Be reasonable, Harriet." "Reasonable? That's funny! Just because you're in love with the girl, you can't see that she's nothing but a liar!" "I am not in love with the girl!" "Aren't you? Well, why did you refuse to discuss the idea of Paris with me last night? Because you couldn't bear the thought of being away from her! You're completely besotted." "It isn't true! " "Then why have you been making love to her? " she cried out violently. "I haven't, I tell you I haven't!" he shouted her down. They'd never quarreled like this before, never. glared at each other with hatred in their ye-e and a poisonous anger in their hearts. The situation seemed to lack all reality. Suddenly she broke down. "What am I going to do . . .? What am I going to do?" she cried, tears strangling her voice. He was too angry to care. "Go and consult your precious Paul! " he exclaimed bitterly. "He's been running your life for the past ten years, so why stop now? You know perfectly well what you're going to do. You're, going to Paris, just as you've intended ever since the proposition was first put to you. Discuss it. What was there to discuss? You'd got the whole thing cut and dried! All right, go then, go!" The colour drained from her face. "I turned' down the Paris offer this afternoon," she said in a low voice. He spun round in amazement. "Harriet" They became aware of it at the same moment: the undisguisable smell of gas. She was the first to the door, but he raced up the stairs ahead of her. The smell of gas was stronger now. It came from the spare bedroom. Julie had not locked the door, neither was the window entirely closed. She lay, in her night clothes, some little distance from the fire. Her eyes were shut. Still Without speaking, their actions were mechanical. As Harriet went to fling the window wide open, Mark turned off the hissing gas. Choking a little, he lifted Julie from the floor and laid her on the bed. ON the table was a note to Mark. Harriet glimpsed the words Since you have deceived me I no longer wish to live. She crumpled it up and stuffed it in her pocket. "Will she be all right?" Mark spoke in a dazed voice. Julie's eyelids were blue, but her, pulse still beat strongly. "She'll come round in a moment," Harriet said tersely. "I'd better get the doctor." He was already at the door. "Wait" Her voice halted him. "Get a doctor, but not ours. Here, ring up this number." She had found the scrap of paper with Julie's father's name and telephone number on it. Mark stared at it. "Who's Doctor Brown?" "Julie' s father." "But she hasn't got a father" "Oh yes she has and a perfectly good mother, too. Get Doctor Brown to come round here straight away." Her mind felt ice cool as she spoke. "But" He was staring at Julie and the expression of incredulity on his face gave place to one of shocked dismay. "You mean she invented that, too." His voice trailed away on a note of disgust. JULIE'S eyelids flickered and she gave a little moan. Harriet said urgently. "Go on, Mark, hurry!" "What shall I fell him?" The truth, of course! Go on!" As he left the room she turned towards Julie. The girl's eyes were now open, but not entirely focused. The colour had come back to her cheeks. Mark hadn't closed the bedroom door and now, to Harriet's concern, she heard the sound of footsteps, descending from upstairs and Nanny's brisk voice, "Do I smell gas?" An hysterical desire to laugh seized her, but she checked the impulse as Nanny's startled face appeared in the doorway. '(It's all right, Nanny. Miss Brown must have accidentally knocked the tap on and not noticed. Feeling drowsy, she probably laid down for a moment. She's coming round now. Could you go and make some really strong black coffee?" Disbelief struggled with curiosity on Nanny's face, but Harriet's voice had a note of finality. What a story this was going to make to tell Katrina when she came in. Bursting with speculation, she went downstairs. Harriet turned towards Julie again. The girl was fully conscious now. She lay perfectly still, her glance intently on Harriet's face. Was there a trace of gloating in the wide, grey eyes? Harriet said coolly, "For someone of your histrionic ability, that was a very botched scene. You knew perfectly well that you weren't going to gas yourself to death. Would be suicides don't leave windows half open and doors unlocked. And it is customary to lie down close to the fire, not a good three yards away. You're really a very stupid little girl, Julie Brown." The grey eyes narrowed. "You think you've got him back, but you haven't!" she said viciously. Harriet ignored the remarks She went on, conversationally, "You only staged this melodramatic set up to get my husband more deeply involved. You knew we'd send for a doctor and you imagined quite a nice little bit of publicity after that. Because doctors have to report attempted suicides.
"You saw yourself as the centre of attention. Well, I'm afraid it's not going to work out the way you thought. Oh, we've sent for a doctor, all right: we've sent for your father. He's going to take you home."
For the first time, the girl was startled: An expression of fear flashed, in her eyes and was gone immediately. "I shan't go. It's my life and I can do what I want with it."
"But not in this house. You see, your other lies have been discovered too. You're neurotic and amoral and I'm sorry for you."
The veiled glance was back. "That's what you think! But you're wrong! It was Mark's idea in the first place. He told me what to say so that we could be together while you were away."
She began to work herself up to the theme. "You think you're so clever with your beautiful clothes and house and your wonderful job that allows you to travel whenever you want. You think you can go away like that and then come back and find everything neat and tidy like you left it! Well, it doesn't happen, you know.
"Mark's not faithful to you, he never has been. Everybody knows that at college and you'd be surprised how much we do know there! Each time you go away, he has someone. And why not? You have that awful old man of yours!" She almost spat out the last words.
AS she looked down at the flushed young face, Harriet said, and her voice held compassion, "Please, Julie, don't make it worse for yourself."
Mark came into the room and sank wearily on to the end of the bed.
"He'll be here soon, Harriet. I've explained what happened. You'll have to go," he said firmly to the girl.
Julie turned away quickly, an almost desperate gleam in her eyes. "Mark," she cried out and began to weep unrestrainedly.
Harriet said firmly, "Go and get the coffee from Nanny, Mark. Tell her to go to bed and not to bother when the bell rings. Say we're expecting a visitor. "
As he went out of the room, she turned to Julie. "You'd better pull yourself together. Shall I pack your things or will you? " The sobs ceased: they'd been, as Harriet suspected, turned on for Mark's benefit. The girl remained silent and still, a sullen expression on her face.
HARRIET went and pulled the battered suitcase from a corner of the room. Quietly, she began to collect Julie's belongings together. As she lifted the stack of books and magazines from the bedside table, the diary slid to the floor. She picked it up and placed it on top of the pile.
"I suppose you pried into that too!" Julie said venomously, but there was an undercurrent of triumph in her voice.
Suddenly Harriet realized that all the entries in it must have been deliberately written for her to find. The diary was always so conveniently ready to fall open at a revealing page. Without bothering to reply, she went on packing Julie's suitcase.
"Don't you think you'd better get dressed?" she suggested. "What do you want to wear?"
"My slacks," the girl said sulkily. "Can I have a bath first?"
"If you like, I'll turn it on for you." When she returned to the spare room, she said lightly, "I hope you haven't got any silly ideas about drowning yourself, Julie. It's almost impossible in a bath."
"Oh, funny, aren't you!" The girl drew her skimpy dressing gown tightly round her firm young body. Then, on a note of bravado, she said, "Perhaps you'd like to know why I want a bath?"
"Tell me."
"Because you've got the grandest bathroom I've ever been in!" She swaggered out of the room. For the first and only time, Harriet genuinely appreciated Julie Brown.
Mark returned with the coffee. "Where is she?" he asked awkwardly.
"Having a bath. What did Doctor Brown say?" .
"He apologized for his daughter's behaviour. For her behaviour!" He ran his hands through his hair. "Look, d'you want some coffee?"
"I don't. You have some."
"I don't want it."
"Neither will Julie. It was only a ruse to get Nanny out of the room as quickly as possible."
"Harriet " He paused. "Did you mean what you said about Paris just now?"
"Of course I did."
" But_ "
"Mark, we can talk about that later. Tell me why Doctor Brown apologized. "
"He said she'd done it before. I don't mean the gassing part." He looked embarrassed. "She, she imagined Doctor Brown's partner was in love with her or something. There was quite a to-do. That's why they thought it would be a good thing for her to live in digs when she came to university. But he’ll take her home now. He paused antd looked at her steadily. "Harriet, why have you turned down the Paris offer?"
"Because-oh, because of lots of reasons! I'm sick to death of the whole spiral."
"Are you sure?"
"Quite sure." 'She thought, if I hadn't been so occupied with my job, none of this would have happened. One thing Julie had said, quite indirectly through her stories to the children, was true. She'd been neglecting her home for years now.
"I thought," she said hesitantly, "that perhaps next year, when Simon is old enough for school, we might get rid of Nanny." He was still looking at her intently. "Who'd see to the children then?" he asked slowly. "Katrina and I, between us. I told Paul I wanted less responsibility, not more. That I'd like to do part-time if possible next year."
MARK crossed the room and put his hands on, her shoulders. "Look at me, Harriet. Is that what you really want?"
She met his glance squarely. "It's what I really want, Mark."
"You're not doing it for my sake?"
"I'm doing it for all our sakes," she said quietly.
There was a ring at the front door. They went down together. Doctor Brown was a neat, youngish middle-aged man with fair hair and the same high cheek bones as his daughter.
"I made it rather more quickly than I thought," he said. "The fog's beginning to clear."
Harriet thought: Quite a lot of things are beginning to clear. "Would you like a drink or some coffee, Doctor Brown? Julie's having a bath, she won't be ready yet."
He refused. His voice when he spoke was a little weary. "Your husband has explained to me what happened, Mrs. Wingate. I am very sorry indeed you should have had this trouble, and I know it's nothing to do with anything either of you have done."
She liked the expression in his eyes, the depth of his voice. "I think we're all slightly to blame, Doctor Brown. Julie could have been misled by the circumstances and she has a vivid imagination. Would you like to go up to her room now? That was her, coming out of the bathroom." There were sounds of noisily slammed doors.
"Thank you, I will."
HARRIET took him up and left them alone together. When she came down again, Mark said, "I was the one to blame, for being such a blind idiot."
"She bewitched you a little it doesn't matter now," she replied gently.
When they came down, Julie was wearing her narrow tartan slacks and off-white duffle coat. Her blonde hair was caught up into a small shining knot at the top of her head.
"Good-bye," she said demurely. "Thank you very much for having me to stay." She gave Mark the curious, luminous look which had become so familiar to him. "I'll be seeing you at college of course," she added.
"I can't face the girl again!" he exclaimed after he'd shut the front door. "Harriet, what the devil shall I do if she goes on staring at me from the front row during lectures?" "What you always did until this happened; take no notice of her. Oh, Mark, don't be such a baby!"
He said. "How did you find out about her?" "A young man called Denis Lawton. Remind me to phone him tomorrow:
Denis Lawton, the ardent young man. No tremor of jealousy stirred him now. He said slowly, "Harriet, she made us unreal in some peculiar way. This evening, I shouted at you. At you, of all people."
"I did the same thing, darling. Of course she made us unreal. She's like that, maybe she can't help it, a sort of fantasy person. And we got caught up in her world of falsity and lies." Suddenly she shivered. "Mark, we won't let it happen again, will we?"
"Never, my darling, never." He put his arms round her and very gently kissed her mouth.
Outside the fog lifted. ... THE END
( Our serial" Dangerous Minx" is to be published during 1958 by Hodder & Stoughton Hilder under the title, "The Girl in the Fog."
Dangerous MinxOur serial of a modern marriage by BARBARA BEAUCHAMP
ILLUSTRATED BY AUBREY RIXTHE
STORY SO FAR: HARRET is the wife of MARK WINGATE, a university professor and mother of two children, CAROLINE and SIMON. She also has a full-time job as buyer for PAUL FENTON'S interior decorating business.
While Harriet is in France, Mark befriends JULIE BROWN, one of his students who lodges next door. She comes to him hysterical with fear saying that after a party in her room, a man tried to assault her.
When her landlady, MRS. LAVERS, turns her out for breaking house rules, Julie says she has nowhere to go and Mark agrees to her staying in his house, much to the surprise of KATRINA, their housekeeper.
Harriet arrives home earlier than expected and is surprised to find Julie making herself very much at, home. Later, when she sees Julie look at Mark so adoringly, she becomes suspicious and jealous.
Mark allays her fears and Harriet convinces herself that Mark regards Julie as just one of his students in need of a helping hand.
When Julie says that she cannot move to a hostel as arranged because of a measles epidemic, Harriet says she can stay on. Tidying Julie's room, Harriet picks up a diary. It falls open and she reads: He asked me out tonight because his wife is away. . . . Wonderful, wonderful evening.
Feeling ashamed, but unable to help, herself, Harriet reads on, and realizes that Julie is not the innocent she pretends to be.
Paul Fenton has suggested that Harriet shall take charge of his new Paris branch and she asks Mark if he would be willing to move to France. He is furious at the idea and tells her that if she goes to Paris, she goes alone. He walks out in a rage.
Thinking over his marriage, he realizes that Harriet has always had the major say on their way of living. Their domestic staff, the car, and other luxuries, she provides these. But why? They were in a never-ending spiral and it was time he put his foot down.
He recognizes this as a major crisis in his marriage and preoccupied with this, he has temporarily forgotten Julie and how jealous he'd been when he'd seen her with another student, DENIS LAWTON.
Mark arrives home to find Julie there, looking very provocative. He is terribly conscious of her and the fact makes him angry. He makes a sarcastic remark about her boy friend Denis, and delightedly Julie accuses him of being jealous.
Throwing her arms around his neck, she whispers urgently: "Say you love me, Mark." Feeling her close to him, Mark completely loses his head and is kissing her angrily, hungrily, as Harriet walks into the room.
HE gave Julie such a violent shove as he released her that she stumbled and nearly fell.
"Hullo, Harriet," he said weakly.
Julie uttered a wild little moan and ran blindly out of the room. An instant later there was the sound of the front door being slammed. Harriet's voice was toneless. "She'll catch her death of cold in that dress. Go and find her, Mark."
"Listen, Harriet," he began to bluster, "I must talk to you first. Just now, I mean, honestly, it isn't whatever you're thinking"
"Mark" she cut in on him. "I told you to go and find her. Her beastly little duffle coat's hanging in the hall. Take it and go and find her. Before she does something silly."
" But____"
"Please" Her face was dead white but her voice still remained under control. "Get out of here, will you? Go! Can't you understand that I don't want to see you for a little while?"
He had no alternative but to leave.
Once she was alone, Harriet found she was shaking all over and yet there was a kind of numbness in her brain. On the floor by the armchair, Julie's bottle of nail varnish had upset and a scarlet stain spread over the pale grey hearthrug.
She went down on her hands and knees, poured polish remover on a piece of cotton wool and began to scrub viciously at the stain. It only smeared, and she was reminded of the lipstick on Mark's face.
His foolish disarrayed look, the scared guilty expression in his eyes. Well, at least she knew now what was going on. How often before had they sneaked these moments alone together?
A violent, lurching physical jealousy made her sob. "I mustn't," she said aloud to herself. "I must not start thinking about that." It was all at once terribly important that she should keep a check on her emotions, retain some control until she could think what next to do. At any moment, Mark might come back with the girl.
SHE thanked heaven that Katrina had asked to meet a friend arriving from the Continent and was out this evening.
She went down to the basement. Everything had been left ready for a cold supper, only soup to heat up on the gas stove. And Nanny was safely upstairs with the children. The children, it was time to say good night to them; routine must be carefully observed so that no one would suspect anything was wrong.
She went up to the top floor. Nanny was on the landing. "Simon's got one of his sore throats again, Mrs. Wingate. It's this awful fog. I've given him a hot drink and half an aspirin."
He was slightly flushed and very drowsy.
"It hurts, Mummy," he mumbled when he saw her."It hurts a lot."
She wanted to scoop him into her arms, to hold him very tightly and never let him go. "My poor darling," she said softly. "Never mind, tomorrow it might be gone. I'll get you ice cream, like last time. Remember how it helped?" But his eyes had already closed in sleep.
"Mummy," Caroline hissed urgently.
" Ssh" darling. Si’s asleep." She crossed to her daughter's bed.
"Where’s Daddy? Isn't he coming up? "
"He's out. I'll say good night to him for you when he comes in. Good night, precious."
THE front door bell rang. Nanny said, coming into the night nursery, "Shall I answer it, Mrs. Wingate? "
"No, I'm just going down." At all costs keep Nanny confined up here, she thought as she hurried down the stairs. It could be Julie, she'd left her handbag in the drawing-room, or Mark, who'd forgotten his keys or something. Or both of them together. She felt a sort of nervous tension her throat.'
She opened the front door. Outside the fog was swirling in dense patches. Against it she saw the figure of a young man. He had very dark, untidy hair and was muffled up to the neck in a thick college scarf.
"I want to see Mr. Wingate," he said aggressively.
"I’m" sorry, I'm afraid he's out, but can I help you? I am Mrs. Wingate."
He gave her a curiously startled look. She noticed he had dark, moody eyes; at the moment the mood was one of anger.
"I'd like to wait until he comes in," he announced curtly.
"Well, I don't quite know when he'll be back." She forced herself not to peer past his shoulder into the fog or he would have known she was anticipating Mark's return at any moment. "Could you possibly come back tomorrow?"
For a moment he stared at her, embarrassment fighting with anger in his expression. Anger won through. "It's about Julie Brown. Where is she?" he demanded rudely.
A little pulse was beating at the base of her throat. "I'm afraid she isn't here at the moment."
HE glared at her suspiciously. "You mean they're out together? I thought as much!" He couldn’t help it if he were talking to the man's wife, from the look in her eyes she was going through it, too.
She said quickly, "Perhaps you'd better come in for a moment." Somehow she must avoid any fortuitous meeting on the doorstep between this angry young man and Mark particularly if he returned with Julie.
She led the way into the study and switched on the electric fire. She couldn't take him into the drawing-room with Julie's possessions still scattered over the floor. "Won't you sit down and what is your name?"
"Lawton, Denis Lawton." He remained standing, scowling ferociously. "Look, Mrs. Wingate," he suddenly blurted out, "I've got to find Julie Brown. Where is she?"
"At the moment I haven't the faintest idea. If I had I would gladly tell you."
"She's infatuated with him" he muttered, more to himself than to her.
"Are you quite sure you've got the facts right, Mr. Lawton?"
"Of course I'm sure," he said sulkily. "I've seen it right from the beginning."
"Which was when?"
"Soon after term started, when she'd been to a couple of his lectures. He had his eye on her from the beginning. I could see that. She didn't stand a chance."
SHE felt a little sick. "Have you known her long?" she asked.
"Since September. We met in Brittany, on holiday. It seemed too good to be true that we were both going to the same university. Everything was fine between us till he butted in. After that she started standing me up on dates. Like she has tonight."
"She was meeting you tonight?"
"Yes. She never turned up. I don't think I really expected her to" he added darkly. "She even stood me up on my birthday!"
"When was that?" she said dully, not wanting to hear more.
"November the twenty-first."
She thought, how peculiar, this strange young man and I have the same birthday. Suddenly the implication of his words burst through her apathy. "You mean she was supposed to be going out with you on your birthday?"
"Oh, yes," he grumbled. "We'd got the whole thing fixed up: I was to give a party. Cost me a packet, too," he said sourly. "Only the night before she told me how much she was looking forward to it. But she never came. The next day I went along to Mrs. Lavers, but Julie'd left. She wouldn't even tell me where she was living till this week."
Her mind was whirling with dates. "Wait a minute, just now you said Julie was with you the night before your birthday: you mean on the Wednesday evening?"
He looked surprised. "How did you know it was a Wednesday?"
"Never mind how I know," she said impatiently. "Just where was she with you?"
He wondered why this woman with the very blue eyes was suddenly so tense. "At my parents, in Hampstead. I brought her back to Mrs. Lavers afterwards."
"And went up to her room?" Was it possible that this rather nice young man had been the cause of Julie coming screaming for help in the middle of the night?
He answered scornfully, "Good heavens, no! It was long after ten. Mrs. Lavers is a shrew about men after ten o'clock and Julie was scared stiff of her. No, we just chatted on the doorstep for a while and I left her there. I never dreamed she wasn't coming to my party next day. "
This was the first real proof she'd got that Julie's story to Mark about a man in her room was complete fabrication. There was no question about this unhappy young man telling the truth, and if one story was false, so might the others be.
She said slowly, "Have you ever met Julie's aunt?"
"What aunt?"
"The one near Huddersfield where she was brought up."
He looked puzzled. "I think you've got it wrong. Julie wasn't brought up in the north. Her parents live at Greenheath, just outside London."
"Her parents?" She tried to stifle the astonishment in her voice.
"Yes," he' replied moodily. "They don't understand her."
"And you say they live where?"
"Lancaster Avenue." He gave the number. "Her father's a doctor," he added inconsequently. He seemed to be looking inwards, reviewing with his mind's eye some unpleasing experience. "Her mother never stops nattering. Julie couldn't study at home, that's why she took a room."
IT was suddenly very important to get rid of him, to do one other thing before Mark came back. She said, "Mr. Lawton, would you do something for me?" .
"What?"
"Leave me your address or telephone number. I'll speak to Julie when she comes in and I promise to get in touch with you tomorrow."
"And your husband? He was the one I wanted to see."
"Would you mind if I talked to my husband?" she said quietly.
Suddenly the fight seemed to go out of him. "You're fight," he said desperately. "It wouldn't do any good. She's in too deeply now. I'll go." He added awkwardly, "I'm sorry if I've said anything that's been a shock to you"
"That's all right. As a matter of fact, I'm glad you came."
When he had left, she went to the telephone directories. She didn't have to look far down the "Browns." She made a note of the name and telephone number on a piece of paper and slipped it into the pocket of her suit.
There was one more thing to check: the hostel where Julie had been going to stay. She remembered the name and looked it up. As she dialled the number, her heart was beating more quickly.
The secretary had a sharp, brisk voice: No, they had never heard of Julie Brown. She'd certainly never had her name down for a room there. Measles? There was no question of anyone having measles.
VERY slowly, Harriet walked back to the drawing-room. She put a log on the fire, began to tidy up Julie's paraphernalia. To what extent was Mark aware that the whole of the girl's story was pure fiction? Suddenly she realized she was up against a very, very, tough proposition indeed.
She was not sure how long she waited before she heard the front door opening and the sound of subdued voices in the hall. Then Mark came into the room. He was alone.
"I found her," he said awkwardly. "She's gone up to bed now. She says she doesn't want any supper."
She realized she was regarding him quite dispassionately. He'd wiped the lipstick off his face or someone had, but his hair was still ruffled.
"Is she likely to go into hysterics again? " she said coolly.
"I don't think so. I gave her a pretty stiff drink."
So that's why they'd been so long, was it? Sitting in some pub, drinking, talking things over. Talking what over? She began to feel angry.
He said, rather desperately, "Harriet, you must listen, you've got to let me explain."
She broke in coldly, "Not at this moment, Mark. Let's go down and eat and clear away before Katrina gets back."
"All right," he agreed dully.
He found it almost impossible to swallow. He couldn't bear this putting off of the moment when he must tell Harriet what had really happened. He was appalled at the scene he'd just had in the pub with Julie. Thank heavens it had been practically empty. He hoped to goodness the man behind the bar hadn't overheard the girl's awful outburst.
EVEN now he couldn't understand how she had been so misled. You started it, she'd cried, you started it all when you looked at me during your lectures! But he'd never even consciously seen the girl, until that day Harriet went to Paris and he'd been feeling irritable.
And her allegation that she'd known he was in love with her the first time he kissed her, that evening after they'd been to the zoo. But it was she who had kissed him, there was nothing in it, anyhow; it was merely a childish gesture of gratitude for a pleasant day. This had only increased her tears.
What about just now, she'd accused him, what about just now? He'd taken her in his arms, hadn't he? Told her that he loved her? At this, he'd felt dismay turn to panic. He'd had to tell her, in no uncertain terms, that if a pretty girl flung herself at any average normal man, the chances were he wouldn't try to resist her. He could scarcely have chosen a worse moment to say it. I could die, she had moaned piteously. Some how he'd calmed her down. He wanted to tell Harriet all this, to explain his own silly, superficial but perfectly understandable attraction towards Julie. Above all he wanted to ask her why ordinary, decent human kindness on his part should have led to the girl imagining he was in love with her. He cursed himself for his own stupidity, was slightly ashamed of his weakness but, damn it, he hadn't done anything wrong! If he could tell Harriet all this, he knew she would understand. But she only sat, silently regarding him with a kind of cold antagonism he'd never seen before. "Have we got to go on behaving as if we'd never met before?" he asked irritably, once they were in the drawing-room again. The anger within was still there, but she controlled her voice. "All right. Go on, then. Tell me." "What?" he said stupidly, suddenly not knowing where to begin. "Why you were kissing Julie this evening," she replied coldly. "Oh, that!" Men often kiss a pretty girl without it meaning anything." "Do they? " She had a violent urge to hit him. "But of course. It was a silly sort of thing that simply just happened." "Because you found her rather attractive? "But she is attractive! I'm not denying that, but it's not the point. The trouble is." He paused uncertainly. "Look, Harriet, I want you to understand one thing: I don't care tuppence for Julie Brown, believe me, I never want to see the girl again." SHE turned towards him in anger. "I think you tell as many lies as Julie, only you're not nearly so good at them!" she said furiously. He felt bemused. "I don't know what you mean." "Only that every story she's ever told you has been entirely made up: there was no man in her room that night! She was never going to a hostel ! No one had measles!" She bad not intended telling him this until she’d found out more about his own feelings towards Julie, but now her self-control had weakened. "What's more, she deliberately enticed you up to her room that night knowing that Mrs. Lavers would be sure to make a lot of fuss and you'd feel responsible! " He looked at her in complete disbelief. "You must be crazy!" be said. "I’ll admit she may distort the truth a bit, but she couldn't have made all that up. I was with her at the time. I saw the state she was in. Be reasonable, Harriet." "Reasonable? That's funny! Just because you're in love with the girl, you can't see that she's nothing but a liar!" "I am not in love with the girl!" "Aren't you? Well, why did you refuse to discuss the idea of Paris with me last night? Because you couldn't bear the thought of being away from her! You're completely besotted." "It isn't true! " "Then why have you been making love to her? " she cried out violently. "I haven't, I tell you I haven't!" he shouted her down. They'd never quarreled like this before, never. glared at each other with hatred in their ye-e and a poisonous anger in their hearts. The situation seemed to lack all reality. Suddenly she broke down. "What am I going to do . . .? What am I going to do?" she cried, tears strangling her voice. He was too angry to care. "Go and consult your precious Paul! " he exclaimed bitterly. "He's been running your life for the past ten years, so why stop now? You know perfectly well what you're going to do. You're, going to Paris, just as you've intended ever since the proposition was first put to you. Discuss it. What was there to discuss? You'd got the whole thing cut and dried! All right, go then, go!" The colour drained from her face. "I turned' down the Paris offer this afternoon," she said in a low voice. He spun round in amazement. "Harriet" They became aware of it at the same moment: the undisguisable smell of gas. She was the first to the door, but he raced up the stairs ahead of her. The smell of gas was stronger now. It came from the spare bedroom. Julie had not locked the door, neither was the window entirely closed. She lay, in her night clothes, some little distance from the fire. Her eyes were shut. Still Without speaking, their actions were mechanical. As Harriet went to fling the window wide open, Mark turned off the hissing gas. Choking a little, he lifted Julie from the floor and laid her on the bed. ON the table was a note to Mark. Harriet glimpsed the words Since you have deceived me I no longer wish to live. She crumpled it up and stuffed it in her pocket. "Will she be all right?" Mark spoke in a dazed voice. Julie's eyelids were blue, but her, pulse still beat strongly. "She'll come round in a moment," Harriet said tersely. "I'd better get the doctor." He was already at the door. "Wait" Her voice halted him. "Get a doctor, but not ours. Here, ring up this number." She had found the scrap of paper with Julie's father's name and telephone number on it. Mark stared at it. "Who's Doctor Brown?" "Julie' s father." "But she hasn't got a father" "Oh yes she has and a perfectly good mother, too. Get Doctor Brown to come round here straight away." Her mind felt ice cool as she spoke. "But" He was staring at Julie and the expression of incredulity on his face gave place to one of shocked dismay. "You mean she invented that, too." His voice trailed away on a note of disgust. JULIE'S eyelids flickered and she gave a little moan. Harriet said urgently. "Go on, Mark, hurry!" "What shall I fell him?" The truth, of course! Go on!" As he left the room she turned towards Julie. The girl's eyes were now open, but not entirely focused. The colour had come back to her cheeks. Mark hadn't closed the bedroom door and now, to Harriet's concern, she heard the sound of footsteps, descending from upstairs and Nanny's brisk voice, "Do I smell gas?" An hysterical desire to laugh seized her, but she checked the impulse as Nanny's startled face appeared in the doorway. '(It's all right, Nanny. Miss Brown must have accidentally knocked the tap on and not noticed. Feeling drowsy, she probably laid down for a moment. She's coming round now. Could you go and make some really strong black coffee?" Disbelief struggled with curiosity on Nanny's face, but Harriet's voice had a note of finality. What a story this was going to make to tell Katrina when she came in. Bursting with speculation, she went downstairs. Harriet turned towards Julie again. The girl was fully conscious now. She lay perfectly still, her glance intently on Harriet's face. Was there a trace of gloating in the wide, grey eyes? Harriet said coolly, "For someone of your histrionic ability, that was a very botched scene. You knew perfectly well that you weren't going to gas yourself to death. Would be suicides don't leave windows half open and doors unlocked. And it is customary to lie down close to the fire, not a good three yards away. You're really a very stupid little girl, Julie Brown." The grey eyes narrowed. "You think you've got him back, but you haven't!" she said viciously. Harriet ignored the remarks She went on, conversationally, "You only staged this melodramatic set up to get my husband more deeply involved. You knew we'd send for a doctor and you imagined quite a nice little bit of publicity after that. Because doctors have to report attempted suicides.
"You saw yourself as the centre of attention. Well, I'm afraid it's not going to work out the way you thought. Oh, we've sent for a doctor, all right: we've sent for your father. He's going to take you home."
For the first time, the girl was startled: An expression of fear flashed, in her eyes and was gone immediately. "I shan't go. It's my life and I can do what I want with it."
"But not in this house. You see, your other lies have been discovered too. You're neurotic and amoral and I'm sorry for you."
The veiled glance was back. "That's what you think! But you're wrong! It was Mark's idea in the first place. He told me what to say so that we could be together while you were away."
She began to work herself up to the theme. "You think you're so clever with your beautiful clothes and house and your wonderful job that allows you to travel whenever you want. You think you can go away like that and then come back and find everything neat and tidy like you left it! Well, it doesn't happen, you know.
"Mark's not faithful to you, he never has been. Everybody knows that at college and you'd be surprised how much we do know there! Each time you go away, he has someone. And why not? You have that awful old man of yours!" She almost spat out the last words.
AS she looked down at the flushed young face, Harriet said, and her voice held compassion, "Please, Julie, don't make it worse for yourself."
Mark came into the room and sank wearily on to the end of the bed.
"He'll be here soon, Harriet. I've explained what happened. You'll have to go," he said firmly to the girl.
Julie turned away quickly, an almost desperate gleam in her eyes. "Mark," she cried out and began to weep unrestrainedly.
Harriet said firmly, "Go and get the coffee from Nanny, Mark. Tell her to go to bed and not to bother when the bell rings. Say we're expecting a visitor. "
As he went out of the room, she turned to Julie. "You'd better pull yourself together. Shall I pack your things or will you? " The sobs ceased: they'd been, as Harriet suspected, turned on for Mark's benefit. The girl remained silent and still, a sullen expression on her face.
HARRIET went and pulled the battered suitcase from a corner of the room. Quietly, she began to collect Julie's belongings together. As she lifted the stack of books and magazines from the bedside table, the diary slid to the floor. She picked it up and placed it on top of the pile.
"I suppose you pried into that too!" Julie said venomously, but there was an undercurrent of triumph in her voice.
Suddenly Harriet realized that all the entries in it must have been deliberately written for her to find. The diary was always so conveniently ready to fall open at a revealing page. Without bothering to reply, she went on packing Julie's suitcase.
"Don't you think you'd better get dressed?" she suggested. "What do you want to wear?"
"My slacks," the girl said sulkily. "Can I have a bath first?"
"If you like, I'll turn it on for you." When she returned to the spare room, she said lightly, "I hope you haven't got any silly ideas about drowning yourself, Julie. It's almost impossible in a bath."
"Oh, funny, aren't you!" The girl drew her skimpy dressing gown tightly round her firm young body. Then, on a note of bravado, she said, "Perhaps you'd like to know why I want a bath?"
"Tell me."
"Because you've got the grandest bathroom I've ever been in!" She swaggered out of the room. For the first and only time, Harriet genuinely appreciated Julie Brown.
Mark returned with the coffee. "Where is she?" he asked awkwardly.
"Having a bath. What did Doctor Brown say?" .
"He apologized for his daughter's behaviour. For her behaviour!" He ran his hands through his hair. "Look, d'you want some coffee?"
"I don't. You have some."
"I don't want it."
"Neither will Julie. It was only a ruse to get Nanny out of the room as quickly as possible."
"Harriet " He paused. "Did you mean what you said about Paris just now?"
"Of course I did."
" But_ "
"Mark, we can talk about that later. Tell me why Doctor Brown apologized. "
"He said she'd done it before. I don't mean the gassing part." He looked embarrassed. "She, she imagined Doctor Brown's partner was in love with her or something. There was quite a to-do. That's why they thought it would be a good thing for her to live in digs when she came to university. But he’ll take her home now. He paused antd looked at her steadily. "Harriet, why have you turned down the Paris offer?"
"Because-oh, because of lots of reasons! I'm sick to death of the whole spiral."
"Are you sure?"
"Quite sure." 'She thought, if I hadn't been so occupied with my job, none of this would have happened. One thing Julie had said, quite indirectly through her stories to the children, was true. She'd been neglecting her home for years now.
"I thought," she said hesitantly, "that perhaps next year, when Simon is old enough for school, we might get rid of Nanny." He was still looking at her intently. "Who'd see to the children then?" he asked slowly. "Katrina and I, between us. I told Paul I wanted less responsibility, not more. That I'd like to do part-time if possible next year."
MARK crossed the room and put his hands on, her shoulders. "Look at me, Harriet. Is that what you really want?"
She met his glance squarely. "It's what I really want, Mark."
"You're not doing it for my sake?"
"I'm doing it for all our sakes," she said quietly.
There was a ring at the front door. They went down together. Doctor Brown was a neat, youngish middle-aged man with fair hair and the same high cheek bones as his daughter.
"I made it rather more quickly than I thought," he said. "The fog's beginning to clear."
Harriet thought: Quite a lot of things are beginning to clear. "Would you like a drink or some coffee, Doctor Brown? Julie's having a bath, she won't be ready yet."
He refused. His voice when he spoke was a little weary. "Your husband has explained to me what happened, Mrs. Wingate. I am very sorry indeed you should have had this trouble, and I know it's nothing to do with anything either of you have done."
She liked the expression in his eyes, the depth of his voice. "I think we're all slightly to blame, Doctor Brown. Julie could have been misled by the circumstances and she has a vivid imagination. Would you like to go up to her room now? That was her, coming out of the bathroom." There were sounds of noisily slammed doors.
"Thank you, I will."
HARRIET took him up and left them alone together. When she came down again, Mark said, "I was the one to blame, for being such a blind idiot."
"She bewitched you a little it doesn't matter now," she replied gently.
When they came down, Julie was wearing her narrow tartan slacks and off-white duffle coat. Her blonde hair was caught up into a small shining knot at the top of her head.
"Good-bye," she said demurely. "Thank you very much for having me to stay." She gave Mark the curious, luminous look which had become so familiar to him. "I'll be seeing you at college of course," she added.
"I can't face the girl again!" he exclaimed after he'd shut the front door. "Harriet, what the devil shall I do if she goes on staring at me from the front row during lectures?" "What you always did until this happened; take no notice of her. Oh, Mark, don't be such a baby!"
He said. "How did you find out about her?" "A young man called Denis Lawton. Remind me to phone him tomorrow:
Denis Lawton, the ardent young man. No tremor of jealousy stirred him now. He said slowly, "Harriet, she made us unreal in some peculiar way. This evening, I shouted at you. At you, of all people."
"I did the same thing, darling. Of course she made us unreal. She's like that, maybe she can't help it, a sort of fantasy person. And we got caught up in her world of falsity and lies." Suddenly she shivered. "Mark, we won't let it happen again, will we?"
"Never, my darling, never." He put his arms round her and very gently kissed her mouth.
Outside the fog lifted. ... THE END
( Our serial" Dangerous Minx" is to be published during 1958 by Hodder & Stoughton Hilder under the title, "The Girl in the Fog."
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