not love even if she was responsible for giving him life. He could, at least for the short term, pay for her medical needs. And the recent conversation with her, or more accurately her latest lecture, had left him feeling unusually defenceless. Perhaps his mother had a point. Apart from the temptations of London, here he was, enjoying the benefits of his Oxford education, the luxuries of Cuckmere, and ever-deeper feelings for May, while responding with a half promise to Peter that he might come out to join the communists in Spain. Was he simply trying to impress his left-wing Beaumont Street heroes with those plans? Should he stay near May and look after his mother, or should he reassess his life by leaving the country? Or was there a halfway measure in all this? He did not know. At times he despaired of himself.
He had brought a copy of Jude the Obscure to the park but the wind was whipping round him and it felt too cold to settle down and read. Pulling his afghan collar even more tightly round his neck he stood up to leave. He planned to call in at Heywood Hill, the new bookshop in Mayfair that one of the Beaumont Street crowd had recommended for the most interesting and up-to-the-minute political titles. He would have to hurry there if he was to arrive in time for the birthday luncheon of an old university acquaintance, a Bullingdon Club member who had been born with half the silver of Mayfair wedged in his mouth.
Just then he heard a “whooee,” and tilting and swaying towards him came the unwieldy hulk of Miss Evangeline Nettlefold, being pulled from one side of the path to the other by a small dog of deceptive strength. Plumping herself down on the bench, Evangeline patted the seat beside her and, still swaying a little, clamped a hand firmly on Julian’s knee for balance. He tried not to flinch as he felt her kiss dampen his cheek.
“My, am I surprised to see you on such a blowy day! This is Loafer, Slipper’s puppy. You know? Wallis’s dog. Wallis had to go to Suffolk. On business. They were so busy at the Fort so I said I would take care of Loafer while she was away. I chose the name. You know? Like the new shoe everyone is talking about?” Ignoring Julian’s bemused expression, she rattled on. “Wallis was amused to think that a slipper would give birth to a loafer! But to tell you the truth, I think Loafer is a little unhinged and he is driving me a little crazy.”
And as Julian looked more closely at Evangeline she did indeed look a little crazed. Her hair (Oh yes, a wig, he suddenly remembered) was in a state of unusual disarray—a little hat with a veil was propped precariously on the top of her head, her cheeks were aflame, and her brow simmered with perspiration.
“You look very hot in that coat,” Julian said.
“Oh well, I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone,” she explained.
“But didn’t I notice you sitting over there with a gentleman just a few moments ago?” Julian asked her.
The cheeks flamed anew. “Oh yes, well, that was just an acquaintance of mine. I hardly know him.”
She is not telling the truth, Julian thought to himself. She was certainly more than just “acquainted” with the man with whom she had been in such deep conversation and who looked decidedly familiar from the newspapers, even though Julian could not quite pinpoint his identity. But out loud Julian said, “How strange that you should ‘run into’ two people you barely know in one morning!”
Evangeline looked startled and stood up quickly. “Yes, well, I must be getting on and leave you to your book.”
And without another word she set off on her uneven path, a tall, hunched-over figure led on by the little dog. Julian watched her as she rolled away into the distance. Every so often she would give the animal’s lead a vicious little tug, which, had it been any stronger, might have broken the poor animal’s neck.
There had been a sudden burst of rain, and as Julian reached the elegant Georgian house that faced onto Piccadilly, he was aware of water seeping through the collar of his coat and onto his neck. He rang the bell twice. He had rushed from the park, regretting that the conversation with Evangeline had delayed him and prevented him from making the detour to the bookshop.