Angela lay under the sheet, thinking about Gregory until nine-fifteen. Then she leapt out of bed naked and ran down to the hallway, not wanting to stop to put her dressing gown on. She went to the hall table and rang Lowood’s Linens. The phone in the shop rang with mournful tones. She waited for a long time before putting the receiver down.
Christopher watched from the top of the stairs. He had just come out of the shower and had a white towel round his waist. He brought her dressing gown down to her and put it round her shoulders.
Angela said, “He’s never, ever late for work.” She took a cigarette out of her dressing gown pocket and lit it with unsteady hands.
“Perhaps the weather’s held him up,” Christopher said. “There’s black ice on the roads.”
“No,” she said, dialling the house, “Gregory makes allowances for things like the weather.”
Christopher listened to the ringing tone with mixed feelings. Angela put the receiver down again.
“He’s dead, I know he’s dead,” she said.
Christopher put his arms around her and stroked her hair. “If I thought he was dead, I’d ask you to marry me,” he said. “But he’s not dead, Angela, so I won’t.”
He smiled down at her but she wouldn’t smile back.
“I must go home,” she said. He stopped smiling and turned away. She ran upstairs and began to fling her clothes on.
He came into the bedroom and grabbed a white shirt from inside the wardrobe.
“You still love him, don’t you?”
“No,” she shouted.
“Why didn’t you marry me?” he asked.
“Oh Chris, not now!”
She was putting on a black tunic and matching wide trousers. She sat down on the bed to fasten her boots.
“I was the wrong class for you, wasn’t I?”
“No,” she said. Then, “Hurry up, Chris.”
He was taking his time in fastening the buttons on his white shirt.
“I remember the night we went out to that restaurant with your friend, Sheila, and her solicitor boyfriend. The waiter asked if we’d like an aperitif and I said, “Yes, I’d like the tomato soup.” And the waiter laughed and said, “An aperitif is a drink before the meal, sir.” I looked at you and you wouldn’t look back. You were ashamed of me, Angie.”
“For Christ’s sake, Chris! Not now. Put your shoes on!”
“I suppose Gregory knew what an aperitif was,” he said bitterly, tying his shoelace.
The telephone rang loudly, shocking them both. Angela rah downstairs and snatched it up. It was someone from British Telecom sales. She slammed the phone down, then picked it up again and dialled for a mini-cab.
Christopher came to the top of the stairs wearing a black wool suit with his white shirt. He looks like a funeral director, thought Angela. She paced up and down the hallway.
She phoned the shop twice more and the house three times, but the phone was not picked up. As they hurried away from the house they heard the dog howling.
♦
They could smell the fumes as soon as they got out of the mini-cab and when they were half-way up the drive they could see them, blue and curling through the gap under the garage door.
Angela fumbled with the keys on the keyring, unable to find the right one to unlock the garage. She began to cry and gave the keyring to Christopher. He methodically tried all the Yale keys in the lock. Finally the door sprang open and they were almost overcome by the toxicity of the air inside the garage.
They could see Gregory sitting in his car. His head was resting on the steering wheel. Christopher opened the door, covering his own mouth with his hand, turned off the ignition and went to phone for an ambulance. When it was possible to breathe in the garage without retching Angela opened the passenger door and saw the note pinned to Gregory’s jacket. He appeared to be dead. She held him in her arms until Christopher came back.
Between them they dragged Gregory out of the car and into the devastated garden. His face was swollen and the colour of a fresh bruise. Angela bent over him, pinched his nose, opened his mouth and covered it with her own. She blew air into his lungs for as long as she could and when she was unable to carry on Christopher took over.
When the ambulance came there still seemed to be no life inside Gregory’s body.