The Night Following Read Online Free PDF

other people getting on at Canal Street worked. For one thing, she wasn’t regular enough, only boarding the tram on maybe two days in every six. Evelyn supposed the woman worked casual hours, maybe as a char. Daphne said she’d heard from somebody that she’d lost a son and had funny turns. She was generally considered to be harmless but definitely not all there. Nobody seemed to know her name.
    Not that she drew attention to herself, rather the opposite. On the tram, whether she was standing or sitting, she would close her eyes and a smile would settle on her lips. She’d stay like that for the entire journey. The tram would creak along, jolting at every stop and juddering on again.
    Now and then somebody might address a remark to her. “Mind if I get past you?”or “’Scuse me, is anybody sitting there?”and the woman would usually reply quite sensibly. But not once would her eyes open or her smile falter.
    Today she got on and took the seat opposite Evelyn. Her eyes weren’t closed in sleep or obvious tiredness, or squeezed tight against something unpleasant. As usual they were just shut and smooth, though her face was blotchy with cold. Her smile, even on her wintry, pinched face, made Evelyn think not for the first time that she knew well enough where she was, in a smoky tram surrounded by drab, glum passengers, and had just decided to spare herself the sight of it.
    But today as Evelyn watched, all at once the smile vanished and the woman’s eyes flew open in agitation. She blinked round the tram for a moment, her mouth working furiously. Evelyn was ashamed in case the woman had seen her staring. She tried to look away, but it was too late.
    “Bloody look at it! I tell yer! Bloody look at me!”the woman suddenly shouted. She waved a grayish frozen hand toward the rain-streaked window. “Look! It’s enough to make you, make you…it’s enough to make you…”Her voice tailed off and the hand dropped in her lap. Her lips were trembling. People exchanged glances. Composing herself, she sighed and spoke again, quite calmly this time, and to nobody in particular.
    “I’ll tell you. Look at it. It’s enough to make you go to bed New Year’s Eve and not get up afore Easter.”Apparently satisfied, she surveyed the carriage, smiled, folded her hands together, and closed her eyes.
    A few people looked around nervously and one or two, including Evelyn, nodded. A gruff voice further down the tram muttered, “Aye, don’t blame you, missus.”
    Daphne nudged Evelyn. “Only sensible thing she’s ever said. She most definitely is not all there,”she whispered. “Look. Get her now. Butter wouldn’t melt!”
    “Maybe she feels better for getting it off her chest.”
    “Maybe. Wouldn’t mind it myself, sleeping New Year till Easter. Wouldn’t be missing anything, would I?”
    Evelyn smiled. “Rum kind of Sleeping Beauty you’d make, Daphne Baker.”
    Daphne laughed wryly. “Aye, but I’d catch up on my sleep, wouldn’t I? You’d die of old age waiting for Prince Charming round here. I’m past all that, anyway. Getting too old, me.”
    “Do you mind? I’ll thank you to remember I’m two years older than you, young lady.”
    “Aye, but you don’t look it. And you’ve got your Stan. You’re not stuck on’t ruddy shelf like me, not that I’m bothered. They’re all the same, men.”
    “Oh, Daphne Baker, you are not over the hill. You’ll see. Somebody’ll be along and sweep you off your feet. Mr. Right.”
    Daphne grunted. “I’m not worried. I’m better off. At least you won’t catch me at a man’s beck and call. I’m nobody’s unpaid skivvy. You’re a fool, Evelyn Leigh, getting married. Come on, this is us.”
    After they’d clambered off the tram at Station Road, Daphne had said “Ta-ta”and set off on the short walk to her home in Chadderton Street. Evelyn let out a deep sigh. Daphne could be so tactless. And she only pretended not to care. To hear her talk you’d think