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her for a long time, part of it brought about by her wanting to get away from home and her father.
    Oh, she didn't like that man, she had never liked him. But after that first time with Andrew, when she had thought she would die, why had she gone back again? And then a second time? and a third and a fourth?
    Yes, why had she gone back again? And then he . he had dropped her and not only with a baby, he had just dropped her. She really had no intention of uttering the next words because they were common-sounding and she had heard her gran and great-gran say them, but now she heard herself speaking them: "When you got what you wanted, you disappeared, you ran off," she said.
    She watched him now hunch his shoulders and jerk his chin to the side as he said, "It wasn't like that, not the way you mean. Yes; yes, I ran off because I ... I--' He now stretched his neck upwards and hissed at her, " I was frightened of this happening, as it has now. You .
    you were so ready, so . so . Oh! " He turned from her and went to the window again.
    Had she been all that ready? She looked at his back. It was narrow; he looked like a young boy, not seventeen, nearly eighteen. Had she ever dreamt about him at night and wanted to be with him? At this moment she didn't even like him. How was it she had let him touch her?
    Touch her, did she say? More than touch, do what he did? How? She couldn't face up to the fact that the person she was now was someone entirely different from the girl she had been three months ago.
    He had turned towards her again and, looking at him, she actually saw him as a young boy much less mature than she was. He had always given her the impression that he was grown up: it was his chatter, she supposed, his chatter that Charlie had once called 'his yap from his wide open gap'. Charlie had never liked him. He had met them once coming from the stable area and had straightaway
    endeavoured to ignore him, but Andrew had talked all the time and laughed and acted the goat. She had felt a little ashamed of him that day.
    Why was she thinking of Charlie? She had to get this thing settled.
    Oh dear, dear Lord, she didn't want to get married, but there was no way out, she knew that.
    He spoke her thoughts now: "You don't want to get married, do you?" he said.
    She didn't answer for a moment, and when she did her answer was a statement: "I've got to."
    His whole body moved as if shrugging off his clothes.
    "Well, where would we live? We couldn't live here," he said.
    "Oh no!" The words were emphatic.
    "Well, you said before about your dad being ... His voice trailed off, and she immediately brushed aside what she knew he was about to say: "
    He's got nothing to do with it, the house I mean. It's Great-gran's house. There's a sort of annexe. It's got enough rooms.
    They'd . they'd do it up. "
    During the time she was speaking she was rubbing her right hand up and down her thigh as if to ease away a pain, and she watched his
    expression change, his face brighten as he said, "A proper house; I mean, detached ... they would?"
    "It isn't detached; it's connected by a doorway. But yes." She closed her eyes for a moment and nodded.
    "Yes, in a way it's detached. And it could be made really nice."
    He half turned towards the window again, saying, "Well, I'd have to get a job and ... and they are not so easy now. Dad's on the buildings and he's been off a month. He used to be able to walk from one job to another, but not any more. So ... so that'll be an obstacle, the job."
    Her hand stopped its rubbing and joined the other one tightly at her waist, and her voice sounded very much as her mother's did at times when she had to submit to something that her father wanted doing.
    "They'll see to that too," she said.
    "Great-gran said there could be a place found for you in the garage."
    His expression took on a lightness.
    "Selling cars?"
    No! "
    She now clapped her hand over her mouth because the 'no' had been so loud. Then almost in a whisper she