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friends here—the staff and the customers. Why should we talk about sad things in the past? Why would you want to embarrass me in front of my friends? Can’t we let it drop? Promise?”
    Graham thought, and then said:
    â€œI promise.”
    She took up her cake again.
    â€œAnd how did the reunion for poor old George Long go? He must be well past it by now.”
    â€œPast it? Not at all. Pretty much what he was when I was in 6C I thought. Just as commanding, just as theatrical.”
    â€œWell, he’s damned lucky,” she said forcefully. Then she retracted it with a charming smile. “Sorry. I shouldn’t begrudge him it and it’s mean of me, but I’d be very happy if I was the same girl as I was when you were in 6C.”
    â€œWouldn’t we all be happy to take twenty or thirty years off our ages?” Graham asked. “Though I always think children face things now that we never had inklings about when we were growing up. Having sex in one’s early teens with parents turning a blind eye isn’t just a joyful liberation.”
    â€œOf course it’s not,” said Peggy softly. Then she added, “Remember your promise.”
    â€œGeorge, I believe, is still acting and directing—all sorts of things from Shakespeare to music hall…. I wonder how good St. Joan was. It was wonderful to be in, even a small part. And everyone seemed to think it was pretty good, and enjoyed it. So I suppose that must mean that it hit the mark. How you ever learnt the central role I can’t imagine. It must have taken over your life.”
    She had finished eating and was gazing ahead of her, with traces of chocolate still enchantingly clinging to her upper lip and chin.
    â€œIt did,” she said dreamily. “In the most wonderful way. There’s never been another year like it—never.”
    â€œAnd yet Saint Joan was not your part, in a way, was it?”
    She shot him a glance. “Remember your promise,” she repeated, her voice once again soft and low. “You forget that Saint Joan is someone all the characters are interested in, are fascinated by. A bit mannish, direct and almost brutal at times, but always the center of attention. Who says sex doesn’t come into their fascination? I knew everyone else in the cast had—well, I suppose the current expression is ‘got the hots’ for me. The only female part in the play. Even Macbeth has a couple of other women’s parts apart from the Lady. I was on my own, in my element, with everyone lusting after me. It was lovely—and disturbing!”
    â€œI bet it was.”
    She suddenly wiped away a tear.
    â€œAnd now I’m an assistant in a glorified corner shop, employed by a couple who are lovely people, good to me, and high up in the theater scene here, but who are also the sort of people who give the tag do-gooder a bad name. Isn’t life a bugger?” She got up and turned to the door. “I must be getting back.”
    She waited at the door while Graham paid, then walked him briskly along the road.
    â€œWe must keep in touch,” said Graham.
    â€œMust we? You know my address, I gather. I suppose you have my telephone number as well. If you want to get in touch, you can. From things you’ve said it doesn’t seem likely you’ll want to.”
    â€œThere’s the matter of—” began Graham. She put her finger to her lips, and his voice faded away. But as she turned to go back into Halliburton’s, she said, still in the same low voice:
    â€œIt was a boy, you know. A baby boy.”
    Then she went back into the shop, and her manner of shutting the door—theatrically, finally—told Graham their first encounter as adults was at an end. As he walked back to the car, he found he did not regret it. That first sight of her through the window of the greengrocery had been deceptive: a sudden jump back in time had occurred, and he