The lid of Fox’s large silver watch clicked. ‘It’s five o’clock, sir,’ he said. ‘Time we moved on if you’re to have tea at the pub and catch that train.’

‘Come along, then,’ said Alleyn quietly, and they retraced their steps to the village.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

New System

AS TROY WAITED FOR Alleyn’s return her thoughts moved back through the brief period of their reunion. She examined one event, then another; a phrase, a gesture, an emotion. She was astonished by the simplicity of her happiness; amused to find herself expectant, even a little sleek. She was desired, she was loved, and she loved again. That there were hazards ahead she made no doubt, but for the moment all was well; she could relax and find a perspective.

Yet, like a rough strand in the texture of her happiness, there was an imperfection. Her thoughts, questing fingers, continually and reluctantly sought it out. This was Alleyn’s refusal to allow his work a place in their relationship. It was founded, she knew, in her own attitude during their earliest encounters which had taken place against a terrible background; in her shrinking from the part he played at that time and in her expressed horror of capital punishment.

Troy knew very well that Alleyn accepted these reactions as fundamental and implicit in her nature. She knew he did not believe that for her, in love, an ethic unrelated to that love could not impede it. It seemed to him that if his work occasionally brought murderers to execution, then surely, to her, he must at those times be of the same company as the hangman. Only by some miracle of love, he thought, did she overcome her repulsion.

But the bald truth, she told herself helplessly, was that her ideas were remote from her emotions. ‘I’m less sensitive than he thinks,’ she said. ‘What he does is of no importance. I love him.’ And although she disliked such generalities, she added: ‘I am a woman.’

It seemed to her that while this withdrawal existed they could not be completely happy. ‘Perhaps,’ she thought, ‘this business with the Ancreds will, after all, change everything. Perhaps it’s a kind of beastly object lesson. I’m in it. He can’t keep me out. I’m in on a homicide case.’ And with a sensation of panic she realized that she had been taking it for granted that the old man she had painted was murdered.

As soon as Alleyn came in and stood before her she knew that she had made no mistake. ‘Well, Rory,’ she said, going to him, ‘we’re for it, aren’t we, darling?’

‘It looks a bit like it.’ He walked past her, saying quickly: ‘I’ll see the AC in the morning. He’ll let me hand over to someone else. Much better.’