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with disgust.
"I could tell he wasn't real," added Smitty.
"I thought he was grand, Mama," Dickie said, not at all discouraged by his
brothers' "higher criticism."
"All children love monsters," Reginald said, grinning.
"Speak for yourself, Dad," said Reggie Jr.
"He was grand, Mama," Dickie repeated. "Bigger than a churchtower!" He came
over to her and she gave him a hug.
"They found a little friend, you know," Reginald said. "There was a girl in
the cinema. She sat next to Dickie and kept whispering things to him. Very
odd. She couldn't have been more than twelve years old, but there wasn't a
sign of her parents."
"What did she tell you, Dickie?" Zoe inquired.
"Oh Mama, she said all kinds of awful things. She said she was from another
world, and that she was going to make slaves of everyone by getting into their
minds. She said she had hundreds and hundreds of brothers and sisters back
home where she came from, and that they were all coming to London to get into
our minds." She could tell Dickie was upset but hiding his feelings.
Mrs. Kelly snorted, "Sure and it's trashy films like this one put such ideas
into the lassy's head, mum. You and the mister should have a care what you let
the youngsters see, or one day they'll be spoutin' the same nonsense, and
running around to one theater after another in the middle of the night all by
theirselves."
"Come, come," said Reginald. "No harm done."
But Zoe, with her arm around Dickie's shoulders, could feel the boy trembling.
"Did the dinosaur scare you, Dickie?" she asked him.
"No, mama. It was the girl. The dinosaur was grand."
"Bedtime, lads," Mrs. Kelly said impatiently.
"Mama," Dickie said, "The girl said she was going to kill people, lots of
people."
"So long as it isn't us," Reginald said smugly. "Now run along to bed, the lot
of you."
Dickie had more to say, but Reginald and Mrs. Kelly hurried him along into the
next room with his brothers. Reginald was undoing his tie as he returned.
"I suppose we'll be on our way back to Norwich tomorrow night," he said.
"I should stay awhile, dear. They may need me," Zoe answered.
"We can all stay then."
"No, at least the children should go home."
"And me?" He took off his suitcoat and carefully put it on a hanger.
"Do as you wish. Mrs. Kelly is quite able to care for the boys without your
help."
"I will remain in London then." He unbuttoned his shirt.
"To keep an eye on me?"
"Nonsense. You are a lady. I have every confidence you'll behave like one. I
have certain matters of business to take care of in the metropolis, and this
is an excellent opportunity to see to them, that's all. Yes, Mrs. Kelly can
take the children back to Norwich, and you and I will stay here. I
only hope this Blade chap recovers quickly. Hotel rooms aren't cheap, you
know."
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"J has assured me our room and board will be paid by the government."
"That settles it! We'll be able to get back at least a small part of all that
money we've paid in taxes. Where are my pajamas, old girl?"
"In the black suitcase," she answered listlessly.
Once in bed, with the lights out, Reginald dozed off almost immediately. Zoe
however, in spite of her weariness and the lateness of the hour, lay awake,
staring at the ceiling and listening to the murmur of the city.
She thought, Will morning never come?
Then, little by little, she became aware of an unpleasant sensation, as if she
were being watched, as if someone were in the room. She tried to ignore it,
but the sensation grew steadily stronger until she could localize it in the
space at the foot of her bed. She looked in that direction but could see
nothing, at least in the dim light that filtered in through the drawn curtains
at the window.
There was a redness in the light that blinked on and off rhythmically,
suggesting a neon sign outside somewhere.
She thought, There's no one there. I'm imagining things.
Reginald rolled onto his back and began to snore. His snoring, which
ordinarily annoyed her, was now curiously reassuring. She was tempted to
awaken him in order to have someone to talk to, someone to drive away the
phantoms of her imagination, but she didn't have the heart. Poor
Reginald needed his sleep.
She thought, I'm upset over what's happened to Richard, that's all. Thinking
of Richard brought a sudden rush of tenderness and concern that surprised her.
Why did she feel this way about a man she had known so briefly, had never
known well, so long ago? Futile feelings! Even if Richard recovered, nothing
would be changed. Richard would have his work-his secret, secret work she
could never share or even know about-and she would have Reginald and the
children.
She remembered a line from Fitzgerald's "Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam."
"The moving finger writes, and having writ moves on."
Suddenly, from the foot of her bed, a voice whispered her name.
"Zoe?"
She sat bolt upright, peering into the gloom, startled yet not frightened. The
bodiless voice had sounded friendly, familiar. She had heard that voice
somewhere before.
After a long pause, the voice spoke again, softly. "The tide is full, the moon
lies fair upon the straits."
She recognized the quote from "Dover Beach." More important, she recognized
the voice.
"Richard?" she called gently.
There was no answer.
She waited a long time, but there was nothing more to hear but the ordinary
drone of London's night sounds.
Being careful not to wake Reginald, she slipped out of bed and silently
dressed, thinking, I'll go for a walk in the streets. Then the voice will be
able to speak to me without disturbing Reginald.
Still she felt no fear. The voice had been Richard's. She was not afraid of
Richard. This must have something to do with Richard's secret work. A new kind
of radio, perhaps.
She took the room key and let herself out, then walked briskly down the
harshly lit hallway to the elevator.
She had seen the Tower Bridge and the Thames and the rumbling lorries full of
produce for
London's markets. She had seen the drunken ragged derelicts shuffling
somnambulistically from doorway to doorway; one had roused himself from his
stupor to stare at her, amazed to see a
"lady of quality" out alone at night. She had seen the sky grow brighter as
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dawn approached.
She had not seen Richard Blade, or heard his voice again, nor had she felt his
unseen presence as before. The world, to her bitter disappointment, had
returned to normal.
The only excitement in her wanderings had been a moment when police cars and
fire engines had rushed past her, traveling in the opposite direction and
making a dreadful din. She had paid no attention to them.
As she made her way back to her hotel by a circuitous route, she smelled smoke
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