‘How’s her life? Bet you’ve cheered her up.’ He looked at Hugh. ‘I shan’t tell. A good lech is what she needs; a lot better for her than her infatuation with –’

‘Who with?’ Mr Jones’s voice betrayed fear.

‘Death, chap with a scythe. That one – speels it D-E-A-T-H. ‘Bye then.’

They listened to his quick step, the slam of the lorry door, the engine starting up, dying away.

‘Bastard! He might have told her he was coming.’

‘He expected her to be here.’

‘Took it for granted.’

‘He did telephone. We didn’t answer.’

Mr Jones was furious. ‘Young sod!’

‘It will be better not to tell Matilda,’ Hugh said quietly, putting the chessmen away.

‘Oh, much better,’ Mr Jones agreed, ‘much better, if better’s the word.’

‘Worse would be her disappointment. I’ve done the same –’

‘Your mother wasn’t like Matilda, you killed her.’

‘Oh shut up about my mother you improbable fool.’

‘One thinks another time will do, you are right, I do it too. But my mother’s so boring, so lonely, she whines at me.’

‘Sod your mother.’ Hugh tipped the chess board onto the floor.

21

JOHN LIKED THE new dress, Matilda saw at once. He seldom commented on her clothes. Walking to The Connaught from Berkeley Square where he had parked the car, she noticed too that wearing flat shoes not only allowed her to walk comfortably but made John look taller, more distinguished. Tonight he wore a dark grey flannel suit, a cream shirt and black tie. He held her arm lightly, steering her towards the restaurant.

They sat at a corner table and had a drink before ordering. Matilda told John about her day. He laughed.

‘You should not take Anne and Lalage seriously.’

‘But I do. They make me suffer. It is a fine art with them.’

‘Rubbish.’

‘They have perfected the detection of the weak point.’

‘You should be safe against pinpricks.’

‘I am not. I used to be better at it when Tom was alive, better in London. Now it exhausts me. I have lost my vitality.’

‘I would hardly say that.’ John had been amazed by her itinerary. ‘You never crammed so much into two days. You would have used up two weeks in the old days.’

‘Old age is creeping in.’

This irritated John, who picked up the menu. ‘What will you eat?’

Sensing his irritation, Matilda obediently studied her menu, flushing slightly at his tone. Immediately John was sorry. ‘You look ten years younger than our age.’ There was so little between them he could safely say this.

‘Our age. Yes.’ Matilda flashed him a grateful smile. ‘I have always envied you your assurance.’

‘I always thought Tom a very lucky man.’