Read In the Middle of the Wood for Free Online Page B

spotless and she was wearing her amethyst brooch, the one he had given her for her birthday. How much did he really know about her? Oh, he knew a lot about her superficially, she had earned her living as a secretary, but what else did he know about her? Nothing really. What went on inside her head? Though they were nearly the same age, she seemed somehow to be younger than him: she thought of him as an old fogey. She might want to marry someone else, someone less absorbed in his work. How had they driven down different roads, how had their minds diverged from each other and gone down separate paths? Perhaps all marriages were like that. And yet he was convinced that he had made more compromises than she had. Why, he had learned even to talk to her when what he most wanted at the time was to read or write. Couldn’t she see the sacrifice he had made there? But, no. All that he had done for her, but what had she done for him? Well, yes, she had allowed him his days of silence at the desk, had even bought the desk for him and the filing cabinet. He had to admit that.
    She was now lying awake on her bed and gazing at him with direct eyes.
    â€œLook,” she said, “are you feeling all right? You look awfully flushed.”
    â€œI’m fine,” he said.
    â€œI’m not so sure about that. You had better watch your heart. Why don’t you lie down?”
    â€œNo, thanks. I’m fine, I tell you.”
    â€œDo you remember,” she said, “that tune you used to like so much. ‘When You and I Were Young Maggie’. It came into my head just now.”
    â€œWhat?” he said.
    â€œIt just came into my head. Out of nowhere.”
    So that was it. She was determined to drive him mad. How else could she have known that he heard that tune on the train? She must have some method of getting inside his mind, she must be directing his mind like a conductor of an orchestra. She had probably directed him to this hotel as well.
    â€œI never understood why you liked that tune so much,” she said sleepily. And she began to hum it.
    â€œStop it,” he said, suddenly and angrily. “Please stop it. I don’t want to hear that tune. I’ve turned against it.”
    â€œWhat about ‘Irene Good Night’ then. That was another of your favourites. You’ve nothing against that one, have you?”
    He gazed at her helplessly. Oh, she was so subtle, there was nothing that she wasn’t able to do. Women were much more subtle than men. In comparison with women men were simply overgrown boys.
    â€œI’d prefer it if you didn’t hum at all,” he said. “I really would. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”
    â€œI don’t feel sleepy now,” she replied. “Not at all.”
    â€œNeither do I.”
    â€œWell, then,” she said, “why don’t we go down for dinner. I’m sure it must be near dinner-time now. Do you want me to phone and ask them?”
    â€œNo,” he said. “We’ll go down.”
    â€œI had better go to the bathroom and freshen up then,” she said.
    â€œAll right, I’ll come with you.”
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œI’ll come with you. What’s wrong with that?”
    â€œWell, it’s not exactly …” She shrugged her shoulders. “Still, if you feel you must.”
    As she was just going into the bathroom she turned to him and said, “I try not to let it bother me, but I must say that all this is beginning to bug me.”
    Eventually they walked down the tartan-carpeted stair together. The dining-room was huge and cavernous with only two people in it, sitting at a table near the wall. They sat in silence for a while till a young boy wearing a white jacket came over to serve them. When he had gone the silence descended again.
    â€œWhen are you going back?” said Ralph at last.
    â€œI don’t know. Do you want me to go