‘A second year!’
For a moment Julia lost control of herself and her voice was heavy with tears.
‘D’you mean to say you’ll be gone two years?’
‘Oh, I should come back next summer of course.
They pay my fare back and I’d go and live at home so as not to spend any money.’
‘I don’t know how I’m going to get on without you.’
She said the words very brightly, so that they sounded polite, but somewhat casual.
‘Well, we can have a grand time together in the summer and you know a year, two years at the outside, well, it passes like a flash of lightning.’
Michael had been walking at random, but Julia without his noticing had guided him in the direction she wished, and now they arrived in front of the theatre.
She stopped.
‘I’ll see you later.
I’ve got to pop up and see Jimmie.’
His face fell.
‘You’re not going to leave me now!
I must talk to somebody.
I thought we might go and have a snack together before the show.’
‘I’m terribly sorry.
Jimmie’s expecting me and you know what he is.’
Michael gave her his sweet, good-natured smile.
‘Oh, well, go on then.
I’m not going to hold it up against you because for once you’ve let me down.’
He walked on and she went in by the stage door.
Jimmie Langton had arranged himself a tiny flat under the roof to which you gained access through the balcony.
She rang the bell of his front door and he opened it himself.
He was surprised, but pleased, to see her.
‘Hulloa, Julia, come in.’
She walked past him without a word, and when they got into his sitting-room, untidy, littered with typescript plays, books and other rubbish, the remains of his frugal luncheon still on a tray by his desk, she turned and faced him.
Her jaw was set and her eyes were frowning.
‘You devil!’
With a swift gesture she went up to him, seized him by his loose shirt collar with both hands and shook him.
He struggled to get free of her, but she was strong and violent.
‘Stop it. Stop it.’
‘You devil, you swine, you filthy low-down cad.’
He took a swing and with his open hand gave her a great smack on the face.
She instinctively loosened her grip on him and put her own hand up to her cheek, for he had hurt her.
She burst out crying.
‘You brute.
You rotten hound to hit a woman.’
‘You put that where the monkey put the nuts, dearie.
Didn’t you know that when a woman hits me I always hit back?’
‘I didn’t hit you.’
‘You damned near throttled me.’
‘You deserved it.
Oh, my God, I’d like to kill you.’
‘Now sit down, duckie, and I’ll give you a drop of Scotch to pull you together.
And then you can tell me all about it.’
Julia looked round for a big chair into which she could conveniently sink.
‘Christ, the place is like a pig-sty.
Why the hell don’t you get a charwoman in?’
With an angry gesture she swept the books on to the floor from an armchair, threw herself in it, and began to cry in earnest.