“All right … I'll meet that train.
Are you coming too?”
“No.”
“Well you've been wonderful.
I don't know what I should have done without you and Mrs. Rattery.”
“Oh, that's all right.
I'll see Brenda off.”
She had stopped crying and sat crouched in the chair.
She did not look up while Jock telephoned.
Then she said,
“Yes, I'll go by that train.”
“We ought to start.
I suppose you will have to get some things from the flat.”
“My bag … upstairs.
You get it.
I can't go in there again.”
She did not speak on the way to her flat.
She sat beside Jock as he drove, looking straight ahead.
When they arrived she unlocked her door and led him in.
The room was extremely empty of furniture.
She sat down in the only chair.
“There's plenty of time really.
Tell me exactly what happened.”
Jock told her.
“Poor little boy,” she said.
“Poor little boy.”
Then she opened her cupboard and began to put a few things into a suitcase; she went in and out from the bathroom once or twice.
“That's everything,” she said.
“There's still too much time.”
“Would you like anything to eat?”
“Oh no, nothing to eat.” She sat down again and looked at herself in the glass. She did not attempt to do anything to her face.
“When you first told me,” she said, “I didn't understand.
I didn't know what I was saying.”
“I know.”
“I didn't say anything, did I?”
“You know what you said.”
“Yes, I know … I didn't mean … I don't think it's any good trying to explain.”
Jock said,
“Are you sure you've got everything?”
“Yes, that's everything,” she nodded towards the little case on the bed.
She looked quite hopeless.
“Well, we'd better go to the station.”
“All right.
It's early.
But it doesn't matter.”
Jock took her to the train.
As it was Wednesday the carriages were full of women returning after their day's shopping.
“Why not go first class?”
“No, no. I always go third.”
She sat in the middle of a row.