like we could go out for dinner. . . .'
'I shan't be staying for dinner.' He raised his eyebrows, and she went on smoothly, 'I shan't even be staying the night, so you don't need to worry about entertaining me.'
He reached for a chair and pulled it forward and sat facing her across the hearthrug.
‘Then why have you come?'
Erica took a mouthful of the whisky, and then laid the glass delicately down on the small marble-topped table that stood by her chair.
‘I've come to tell you that I'm leaving you, Alec'
He did not at once say anything to this. Across the space that divided them, her gaze met his, her eyes unblinking, sombre, quite cold.
After a bit, he said mildly, 'Why?'
‘I don't want to live with you anymore.'
'We scarcely live together anyway.'
'Strickland Whiteside has asked me to go to America with him.'
Strickland Whiteside. He said, 'You're going to go and live with him!’ and he could not keep the appalled incredulity out of his voice.
'You find it astonishing?'
He remembered how they had come indoors together that warm, scented September evening. He remembered the way she had looked, not simply beautiful, but radiant in a way that he had never seen before.
'Are you in love with him?'
She said, 'I don't think I've ever exactly known what being in love means. But I feel about Strick as I've never felt about anyone else. It's not just infatuation. It's doing things together, sharing interests. It's been like that from the moment we met. I can't live away from him.'
'You can't live away from Strickland Whiteside?' The name still sounded absurd. The whole sentence sounded absurd, like a line from some ludicrous farce, and Erica exploded into irritation.
'Oh, stop repeating everything I say. I can't make it any plainer, I can't make it any simpler. Repeating everything I say isn't going to change what I'm trying to tell you.'
He said ridiculously, 'He's younger than you are.' For a moment she looked a little put out. 'Yes, he is, but what difference does that make?'
'Is he married?'
'No. He's never been married.'
'Does he want to marry you?'
'Yes.'
'So you want a divorce?'
'Yes. Whether or not you agree to a divorce, I'm leaving you. I'm going out to Virginia to be with him. I shall simply live with him. I'm long past the age of minding about what people say. Conventions really don't matter anymore.'
'When are you going?'
'I'm booked on a flight to New York next week.'
'Is Strickland flying with you?'
'No.' For the first time, her gaze faltered. She looked down, her hand reached for her drink. 'He's already gone back to the States. He's in Virginia, waiting for me.'
'What about all these big events he was booked in for?'
'He's given them up . . . cancelled everything.'
‘I wonder why he did that.'
Erica raised her eyes. 'He thought it would be better.'
'You mean, he's chickened out. He hadn't the guts to face me and tell me himself.'
'That's not true.'
'He left it for you to do.'
'It's better for me to do it. I wouldn't let him stay. I made him go. I didn't want there to be rows, unpleasantness, things said that are better left unsaid.'
'You could hardly expect me to be delighted.'
'I'm going, Alec. And I'm not coming back.'
'You'd leave Deepbrook?'
'Yes.'
This astonished him almost more than the fact that she was leaving him.
‘I always thought that house meant more to you than anything.'
'Not now it doesn't. Anyway, it's your house.'
'And your horses?'
'I'm taking my horses with me. Strickland's arranged for them to be flown to Virginia.'
She was, as usual, presenting him with a totally conceived plan, her usual method when she was utterly determined to have her own way. Strickland, Deepbrook, her horses, all had been neatly dealt with, but to Alec none of these things mattered a damn. There was only one real issue at stake. Erica had never been a moral coward. He waited in silence for her to continue, but she simply sat there, watching him with grey eyes unblinking
'I shan't be staying for dinner.' He raised his eyebrows, and she went on smoothly, 'I shan't even be staying the night, so you don't need to worry about entertaining me.'
He reached for a chair and pulled it forward and sat facing her across the hearthrug.
‘Then why have you come?'
Erica took a mouthful of the whisky, and then laid the glass delicately down on the small marble-topped table that stood by her chair.
‘I've come to tell you that I'm leaving you, Alec'
He did not at once say anything to this. Across the space that divided them, her gaze met his, her eyes unblinking, sombre, quite cold.
After a bit, he said mildly, 'Why?'
‘I don't want to live with you anymore.'
'We scarcely live together anyway.'
'Strickland Whiteside has asked me to go to America with him.'
Strickland Whiteside. He said, 'You're going to go and live with him!’ and he could not keep the appalled incredulity out of his voice.
'You find it astonishing?'
He remembered how they had come indoors together that warm, scented September evening. He remembered the way she had looked, not simply beautiful, but radiant in a way that he had never seen before.
'Are you in love with him?'
She said, 'I don't think I've ever exactly known what being in love means. But I feel about Strick as I've never felt about anyone else. It's not just infatuation. It's doing things together, sharing interests. It's been like that from the moment we met. I can't live away from him.'
'You can't live away from Strickland Whiteside?' The name still sounded absurd. The whole sentence sounded absurd, like a line from some ludicrous farce, and Erica exploded into irritation.
'Oh, stop repeating everything I say. I can't make it any plainer, I can't make it any simpler. Repeating everything I say isn't going to change what I'm trying to tell you.'
He said ridiculously, 'He's younger than you are.' For a moment she looked a little put out. 'Yes, he is, but what difference does that make?'
'Is he married?'
'No. He's never been married.'
'Does he want to marry you?'
'Yes.'
'So you want a divorce?'
'Yes. Whether or not you agree to a divorce, I'm leaving you. I'm going out to Virginia to be with him. I shall simply live with him. I'm long past the age of minding about what people say. Conventions really don't matter anymore.'
'When are you going?'
'I'm booked on a flight to New York next week.'
'Is Strickland flying with you?'
'No.' For the first time, her gaze faltered. She looked down, her hand reached for her drink. 'He's already gone back to the States. He's in Virginia, waiting for me.'
'What about all these big events he was booked in for?'
'He's given them up . . . cancelled everything.'
‘I wonder why he did that.'
Erica raised her eyes. 'He thought it would be better.'
'You mean, he's chickened out. He hadn't the guts to face me and tell me himself.'
'That's not true.'
'He left it for you to do.'
'It's better for me to do it. I wouldn't let him stay. I made him go. I didn't want there to be rows, unpleasantness, things said that are better left unsaid.'
'You could hardly expect me to be delighted.'
'I'm going, Alec. And I'm not coming back.'
'You'd leave Deepbrook?'
'Yes.'
This astonished him almost more than the fact that she was leaving him.
‘I always thought that house meant more to you than anything.'
'Not now it doesn't. Anyway, it's your house.'
'And your horses?'
'I'm taking my horses with me. Strickland's arranged for them to be flown to Virginia.'
She was, as usual, presenting him with a totally conceived plan, her usual method when she was utterly determined to have her own way. Strickland, Deepbrook, her horses, all had been neatly dealt with, but to Alec none of these things mattered a damn. There was only one real issue at stake. Erica had never been a moral coward. He waited in silence for her to continue, but she simply sat there, watching him with grey eyes unblinking
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