Read Before the Dawn for Free Online

imagine it's 1914," he said.
    "So can I." Perhaps they could just pretend. Perhaps it would be all right then. With quick deliberation, she laid her head on his shoulder.
    George flung her away.  "Damn it!"
    "Oh, I'm sorry!" Alice cried, her hands to her mouth. “I didn’t know.”
    "No. No." He clutched his shoulder, then dropped his arm as if by force of will, and straightened his jacket. His face was white. "Don’t."
    They stood there in silence, George’s face averted, Alice’s fist still pressed to her lips. Finally she inched next to him, and with his face still turned away from her, they went down the stairs.
    Alice wondered if she'd hurt him badly.
    Katherine nodded as they came down together, and George Senior started forward with the same heartiness as the gardener.
    "Well, well! Well."  He nodded, his head bobbing up and down as if he could not control it. "It is good to see you, George."
    George shook his father's hand.  "Thank you, sir." His manner was so stiff and formal, Alice almost wanted to laugh.
    The memory of how he had been, the flickering remnant of his smile, was still close enough to know this was not the truth.
    Katherine led the way into the dining room, set with the good china, her smile firmly in place. Her husband rubbed his hands together with expectation, murmuring, "Good, good. Looks to be a tiptop feast."
    Alice stared into her cream of watercress soup. It was green and watery. She forced a small spoonful down. She wondered if anyone would talk, and if so, what they would talk about.
    Did they used to talk? She had vague memories of laughter and clinking glass. Perhaps it had never really been like that. Time dulled the edges of memories, faded them as old photographs until you only saw what you wanted to see.
    She looked at George, openly, for he was not looking back at her. He was silent, eating methodically, and for all the notice he took there might have been no one else in the room at all.
    Yet once, she had loved him.
    "Perhaps tomorrow you can join me in the office," George Senior said when the silence had gone on far too long. "Reacquaint yourself with the place, after all."
    "Perhaps in time," George agreed politely. "I don't think I could walk the distance, at the moment."
    George Senior smiled. "We'll take the car, then."
    "Perhaps next week, my dear," Katherine said.
    At the end of the meal, her father-in-law beckoned to George to take some port in the library. George shook his head.
    "Perhaps another evening. I'm afraid it's been a very long day, and I must go to bed."
    "Of course, of course," George Senior said quickly, and, after a sharp look from Katherine, Alice stood up.
    "I'll come with you."
    "There's no need."
    She could not sit back down. She did not want to endure Katherine’s silent, ringing accusation. Stiffly Alice moved towards George, following him out of the room.
    She watched as he began his laborious progress up the stairs, one hand on the newel post. "James could help you."
    "I don't want help," George said, his voice ragged with effort. His hand gripped the banister, his head bowed.
    “There's no need to be so unpleasant," Alice said, and George laughed.
    “Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought I was being the model of civility."
    "Is that all I should expect from my husband?"
    "You told me you wanted nothing."
    She caught her breath. She felt something, a longing, a desire. She did not know what it was for, yet she extended one hand. "George, please. I know it’s been a long time, and you’ve had such a journey…”
    “Ah, yes. Thank you for reminding me. You'll excuse me if I go to bed now. I'm dreadfully tired."
    Alice watched him climb the last few stairs. "I could help you," she offered after a moment, the uncertainty in her voice painful to both of them.
    "You don't want to, Alice, so why ask? Spare us both."
    She heard his stiff, measured walk to the bedroom, and then the audible turning of the lock.
    “Go after him.” Katherine stood behind