‘I suppose so. No. Not really. Not now. But you must sleep, Martyn. “Martyn.” There, now, I’ve used your Christian name again. Do you know that I called you Kate because I felt it wasn’t time yet, for the other? That astonished me. In the theatre we be-darling and be-Christian name each other at the drop of a hat. But it wouldn’t do with you.’

He looked down at her. She thought: ‘I really must rouse myself,’ but bodily inertia, linked with a sort of purification of the spirit flooded through her and she was still.

‘It isn’t fair,’ Poole said, ‘when your eyelids are so heavy, to ask you if I’ve made a mistake. Perhaps tomorrow you will think you dreamed this, but Martyn, before many more days are out, I shall ask you to marry me. I do love you so very much.’

To Martyn his voice seemed to come from an immensely long way but it brought her a feeling of great content and refreshment. It was as if her spirit burgeoned and flowered into complete happiness. She tried to express something of this but her voice stumbled over a few disjointed words and she gave it up. She heard him laugh and felt him move away. In a moment he was standing with the door open. He took her keys from her hand.

‘Shall I carry you in? I must go back to the theatre.’

The cold night air joined with this reminder of their ordeal to awaken her completely. She got out and waited anxiously beside him while he opened the house door.

‘Is it awful to feel so happy?’ she asked. ‘With such a terror waiting? Why must you go to the theatre?’ And after a moment. ‘Do you know?’

‘It’s not awful. The terrors are over. Alleyn said I might return. And I think I do know. There. Goodnight. Quickly, quickly, my darling heart, goodnight and good morning.’

He waited until the door shut behind her and then drove back to the theatre.

The pass-door into the foyer was open and the young policeman stood beside it.

‘Mr Alleyn is in here, sir,’ he said.

Poole went in and found Alleyn with his hands in his pockets in front of the great frame of photographs on their easel.

‘I’m afraid I’ve got news,’ he said, ‘that may be a shock to you.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Poole said. ‘Jacko spoke to me before I left. He knew about the play: I didn’t. And we both thought John’s sleep was much too sound.’

They stood side by side and looked at the legend over the photographs.

‘Opening at this Theatre on Thursday, May 11
“THUS TO REVISIT”
A New Play by John James Rutherford.’