Jill Read Online Free PDF Page A

excuse to go. “I think.…”
    “Here, have some cake.” Christopher roughly whacked alarge slab on to a plate and held it out. “Come on, take your things off and sit down,” he added kindly. “Pat, get up and give the gentleman a seat.”
    “It doesn’t matter,” said John hurriedly, who would have liked to sit down. “I’ve been sitting all day.”
    “ So has Pat,” cooed Elizabeth. “But he’s lazy .”
    “And he’s going to sit all night, too.” Patrick gave a sudden disconcerting roar of laughter, then stuffed cake into his mouth. As no one showed any signs of rising, John took off his coat and leant against the wall.
    “Have you come a long way?” Elizabeth pronounced each word very clearly, as if speaking to a foreigner, and looked up at him. Staring down at her lips, he perceived that they were actually much thinner than they were painted.
    “From Huddlesford.”
    “M’m. Quite a distance.”
    As John did not say anything else, the conversation turned away from him again and became general. “What were you saying about Julian, Chris?” inquired Eddy, moving irritably in his chair. “Did you say he’d volunteered?”
    “That’s right. In the Signals.”
    “Oh, I see. I thought there was something in it.”
    “You bet.”
    “Aren’t the Signals dangerous, then?” Elizabeth asked, with an air of intelligence, tapping ash into the saucer of her cup. “Is that what you mean?”
    “Can’t be if Julian——”
    “Is that the person we met in Town, Chris?” Elizabeth turned to Christopher Warner, who was carelessly shuffling plates together, the meal being more or less done. He nodded. “At the Cinderella, after the theatre? I didn’t think he was very clever.”
    “What Lizzie means”, said Patrick sarcastically, “is that he——”
    “ Shut up!” Elizabeth made as if to throw a cushion at him, and pouted instead. “You’re just a swine.” For a second her eye caught John’s, and she looked down at her lap. Otherwise the atmosphere of the room was almost the same as before he had entered it.
    He had finished his cake, and dare not ask for more, so he gave his attention to the room. It was large, impressively conceived, though the details were shabby: windows on one side of the room looked out on to the Founder’s Quad (he could see the statue), and on the other on to what he later discovered was the Master’s Garden. Long curtains hung by them to the floor. The walls were panelled and painted cream: on each side of the fireplace was a set of shelves in the wall, and the furniture consisted of a table, a desk, two armchairs and a sofa.
    Christopher’s things were tumbled everywhere. Besides books and clothes, he had taken things at random out of his trunk and put them down anywhere—a bottle of hair lotion, a squash racquet, a few illustrated magazines. Several pictures were propped against the wall. Another suitcase, unstrapped and partly empty, was pushed behind Eddy’s chair.
    Even with the big fire and comfortable furniture, though, it was not a cosy room. John thought of himself reading a volume of essays in front of the hearth with snow falling outside, but in reality the windows were large and draughty and the room never became properly heated.
    The five of them were sprawled round the fire, while John stood behind them by the wall. When he brought his attention back to them, he found that they were not, as he had thought, forgetful of him. As his eyes moved, startled, from face to face, they each hurriedly looked away from him: the one called Eddy had actually been grinning vacuously at him. He flushed, for while it seemed only natural that they should ignore him, he could not believe they were actually pointing at him amongst themselves and laughing together. Yet this was what it looked like.
    “Hurry up, kettle!” fretted Elizabeth. He looked at her suspiciously, but with lowered eyelashes she merely recrossed her legs and straightened her skirt. Could he