The Man in the Wooden Hat Read Online Free PDF Page A

Raj spinster. Whiskery. Brave. Type that’s gone. She said, ‘One day you can give them to your sweetheart.’”
    She thought: He’s not cold at all. Then, Oh, OH!! The pearls are wonderful. But they’re not what matters.
    “There’s a condition, Elisabeth.”
    “About the pearls?”
    “Certainly not. They are yours for ever. You are my sweetheart. But this marriage, our marriage . . .”
    “Hush,” she said. “People are listening. Later.”
    “No—NOW,” he roared out in the way he did; and several heads turned. “This marriage is a big thing. I don’t believe in divorce.”
    “You’re talking about divorce before you’ve proposed.”
    Mozart behind them sang out, Aha! Bravo! Goodbye! And the trio stood up and bowed.
    “Elisabeth, you must never leave me. That’s the condition. I’ve been left all my life. From being a baby, I’ve been taken away from people. Raj orphan and so on. Not that I’m unusual there. And it’s supposed to have given us all backbone.”
    “Well, I know all that. I am an orphan, too. My parents suffered.”
    “All our parents suffered for an ideology. They believed it was good for us to be sent Home, while they went on with ruling the Empire. We were all damaged even though we became endurers.”
    (“May I take your tray, madam?”)
    “It did not destroy me but it made me bloody unsure.”
    “I will never leave you, Edward.”
    “I’ll never mention any of this again.” His words began to stumble. “Been sent away all my life. Albert Ross saved me. So sorry. Came through. Bad at sharing feelings.”
    “Which, dear Eddie, if I may say so, must be why you haven’t yet proposed to me.”
    “I thought I had—”
    “No. Your Chambers stationery has. Not you. I want to hear it from you. In your words. From your lips.” (She was happy, though.)
    “Marry me, Elisabeth. Never leave me. I’ll never ask again. But never leave me.”
    “I’ll never leave you, Edward.”
     
    A waiter swam by and scooped up her tray though she called out, “Oh, no!”
    Bugger, she thought, I’ve had nothing all day but that rice at Amy’s. Then: I shouldn’t be thinking of cake.
     
    In the lift on the way up to the Judge’s party, her bare toes inside the sandals crunching the sand of the distant sunset harbour, she thought: Well, now I know. It won’t be romantic but who wants that? It won’t be passion, but better without, probably. And there will be children. And he’s remarkable and I’ll grow to love him very much. There’s nothing about him that’s unlovable.
    They stood together now at the far end of the corridor where the Judge had his suite. They could see the open doors, gold and white. The noise of the party inside rose in a subdued roar.
    Edward said, “Unclutch those pearls. I want to put them round your neck.” He took them, heavy and creamy, into both hands and held them to his face. “They still smell of the sea.”
    She said, “Oh, ridiculous,” and laughed, and he at last kissed her very gravely in full view of the waiters round the distant door. She saw that his eyes brimmed with tears.
    Why, the dear old thing, she thought.

CHAPTER FOUR
    T he Judge was standing just inside the doors of his suite to welcome his guests and ostentatiously waving about a glass of Indian tonic water to make clear to everyone that tomorrow morning he would be in Court. He was a clever, abstracted little man with a complexion pale and freckled like cold porridge. He had been born in the East and his skin still didn’t seem to know what to make of it. His wife, Dulcie, much younger and here with him on a visit, was vague and dumpy in paisley-patterned silk. The arrival of the up-and-coming Edward and the unconventional-looking young woman appeared to mean little to either of them. The Judge was looking everywhere around.
    “Aha, yes. Eddie Feathers,” said the Judge (he was known as Pastry Willy). “Well done. Arrived safely. Good flight? Well, don’t let me monopolise