Thus it was arranged; and the ‘man in Dublin’ presently reported that the Costello parents had agreed to Esther’s being legally adopted. They didn’t seem to have much idea, he said, of what the girl was really worth … When this was satisfactorily disposed of Charles Bannister touched on his own position.

“We’d better tell people,” he suggested, “that I was in the war, and then I had some British Government job that took me travelling round the world. Now that’s finished with, and so we’re together again.”

“What about Esther?” said Mrs Bannister. “She’s liable to be jealous.”

“You needn’t go into any details, with her,” he answered. “Just say that I’m a friend of yours, and that I’m helping you with general organization. She’ll soon get used to my being around.”

“But she’ll know–” Mrs Bannister hesitated. “She’ll know that you’re living here – and everything.”

He grinned. “She needn’t know about everything,” he said. “Not unless she climbs into bed with us one morning.” He laughed again. “Not that I’ve any real objection to that.”

“Now, Charles …” But in spite of the past, she still did not take the remark, or its implications, seriously. “There’s no need to put everything in technicolour.”

“Well, explain it to her how you like. Perhaps it might be better to tell her the truth about us – some of the truth,” he amended. “As long as she realizes that I’m in charge of things, helping the two of you to organize yourselves … And,” he went on, less agreeably, “as long as everyone else realizes it.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean Paul Marchant,” he said bluntly. “And any other of your friends who want to interfere.”

“I haven’t seen Paul in months,” she said defensively.

“Well, I have.”

“When?” She was very surprised. “What happened?”

“He called round when you were out,” said Charles Bannister. “Wanted to know what was going on, and who I was. Damned cheek …”

“What did you say?”

“I said I was the husband,” he answered. “The husband in the story, who comes back and kicks up a row, if necessary. Then I asked him who he was.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he wasn’t anyone special, and I said: ‘I agree’, and that was really all. Somehow I don’t think we’ll see him again.”

“But I’m very fond of Paul.”

“Too bad … It was just one of the things that needed organizing. Like the parents. Like my position here, as far as Esther is concerned. I want to clear the ground, and then get to work.”

The precise way in which he would ‘get to work’ was the subject of many discussions between them: in those simpler days, she accepted most of his ideas without argument, and, when he seemed to grow too cynical or opportunist, she put it down to the hard life he had been leading recently … In some ways, she encouraged him to plan these extensions to their activities; she cherished the vague idea that the busier he was, the less likely to get into trouble.