She could not think what to say.
‘It’s going to be a tremendous lark.
Tom’s crazy to go.’
Her heart sank.
It was with the greatest difficulty that she managed not to make a scene. But she controlled herself.
‘All right, darling.
But don’t be too late.
Remember that Tom’s got to rise with the lark.’
Tom had come up and heard the last words.
‘You’re sure you don’t mind?’ he asked.
‘Of course not.
I hope you’ll have a grand time.’
She smiled brightly at him, but her eyes were steely with hatred.
‘I’m just as glad those two kids have gone off,’ said Michael when they got into the launch.
‘We haven’t had an evening to ourselves for ever so long.’
She clenched her hands in order to prevent herself from telling him to hold his silly tongue.
She was in a black rage.
This was the last straw.
Tom had neglected her for a fortnight, he had not even treated her with civility, and she had been angelic.
There wasn’t a woman in the world who would have shown such patience.
Any other woman would have told him that if he couldn’t behave with common decency he’d better get out.
Selfish, stupid and common, that’s what he was.
She almost wished he wasn’t going tomorrow so that she could have the pleasure of turning him out bag and baggage.
And to dare to treat her like that, a twopenny halfpenny little man in the city; poets, cabinet ministers, peers of the realm would be only too glad to break the most important engagements to have the chance of dining with her, and he threw her over to go and dance with a pack of peroxide blondes who couldn’t act for nuts.
That showed what a fool he was.
You would have thought he’d have some gratitude.
Why, the very clothes he had on she’d paid for.
That cigarette-case he was so proud of, hadn’t she given him that?
And the ring he wore.
My God, she’d get even with him.
Yes, and she knew how she could do it.
She knew where he was most sensitive and how she could most cruelly wound him.
That would get him on the raw.
She felt a faint sensation of relief as she turned the scheme over in her mind.
She was impatient to carry but her part of it at once, and they had no sooner got home than she went up to her room.
She got four single pounds out of her bag and a ten-shilling note.
She wrote a brief letter. DEAR TOM, I’m enclosing the money for your tips as I shan’t see you in the morning.
Give three pounds to the butler, a pound to the maid who’s been valeting you, and ten shillings to the chauffeur. JULIA.
She sent for Evie and gave instructions that the letter should be given to Tom by the maid who awoke him.
When she went down to dinner she felt much better.
She carried on an animated conversation with Michael while they dined and afterwards they played six pack bezique.
If she had racked her brains for a week she couldn’t have thought of anything that would humiliate Tom more bitterly.
But when she went to bed she could not sleep.
She was waiting for Roger and Tom to come home.
A notion came to her that made her restless.
Perhaps Tom would realize that he had behaved rottenly, if he gave it a moment’s thought he must see how unhappy he was making her; it might be that he would be sorry and when he came in, after he had said good night to Roger, he would creep down to her room.
If he did that she would forgive everything.
The letter was probably in the butler’s pantry; she could easily slip down and get it back.
At last a car drove up.
She turned on her light to look at the time.