Dodie Smith - I Capture the Castle

upset you dreadfully."

"That's all right," I said.

"Would you like me to tell him for you?"

"Tell him?" She stared at me.

"Oh, no wonder you're upset! Don't worry, darling--I'm still going to marry him."

"No, you're not," I told her.

"You're not going to do anything so wicked."

"Why is it suddenly wicked? You always knew I'd marry him whether I loved him or not--and you helped me all you could, without ever being sure I was in love with him."

"I didn't understand--it was just fun, like something in a book.

It wasn't real." But I knew in my heart that my conscience had always felt uneasy and I hadn't listened to it. All my unhappiness had been a judgment on me.

"Well, it's real enough now," said Rose grimly.

My own guilt made me feel less angry with her. I went and sat on the

bed and tried to speak reasonably.

"You can't do it, you know, Rose--just for clothes and jewelry and bathrooms--" "You talk as if I were doing it all for myself," she broke in on me.

"Do you know what my last thoughts have been, lying here night after night?

"Well, at least they've had enough to eat at the castle today"--why, even Heloise is putting on weight! And I've thought of you more than

anyone- of all the things I can do for you when I'm married his "Then you can stop thinking, because I won't take anything from you was

Suddenly my anger came rushing back and words began to pour out of

me.

"And you can stop pretending that you're doing it for us all--it's simply to please yourself, because you can't face poverty. You're

going to wreck Simon's life because you're greedy and cowardly was I

went on and on, in a sort of screaming whisper--all the time, I was

conscious that I might be heard and managed to stop myself shouting,

but I lost all of what I said; I can't even remember most of it. Rose never tried to interrupt --she just sat there staring at me. Suddenly a light of understanding dawned in her eyes. I stopped dead.

"You're in love with him yourself," she said.

"It only needed that."

And then she burst into choking sobs and buried her head in a pillow to stifle the noise.

"Oh, shut up," I said.

After a minute or two, she stopped roaring into the pillow and began to fish round for her handkerchief. You can't see a person do that

without helping, however angry you are, so I gave it to her-it had

fallen on the floor. She mopped up a bit, then said:

"Cassandra, I swear by everything I hold sacred that I'd give him up if I thought he'd marry you instead. Why, I'd jump at it- we'd still have money in the family and I wouldn't have to have him as husband. I

don't want Scoatney- I don't want a lot of luxury. All I ask is, not

to go back to quite such hideous poverty --I won't do that, I won't, I won't! And I'd have to, if I gave him up, because I know he wouldn't

fall in love with you. He just thinks of you as a little girl."

"What he thinks of me has nothing to do with it," I said.

"It's him I'm thinking of now, not me. You're not going to marry him without loving him."

She said: "Don't you know he'd rather have me that way than not at all

?"

I had never thought of that; but when she said it I saw that it was

true. It made me hate her more than ever. I started to tear the black dress off.

"That's right--come to bed," she said.

"Let's put the light out and talk things over quietly. Perhaps you only fancy you're in love with him--couldn't it be what's called "calf love," darling? You can't really know if you're in love until you've been made love to.

Anyway, you'll get over it when you meet other men- and I'll see that you do. Let's talk- let's try to help each other. Come to bed."

"I'm not coming to bed," I said, kicking the dress away.

"I'm going home."

"But you can't -not tonight! There are no trains."

"Then I'll sit in the station waiting-room till the morning."

"But why? "I'm not going to lie down beside you."

I was struggling into my green dress. She sprang out of bed and tried to stop me.

"Cassandra, please listen- his I told her to shut up or she would rouse the flat.

"And I warn you that if you try to stop me going, I'll rouse it--and tell them everything. Then you'll have to break your engagement."

"Oh, no, I won't--" It was the first time she had sounded angry.

"I'll tell them you're lying because you're in love with Simon."

"One way and another, we'd better not rouse the flat." I was hunting everywhere for my shoes which the maid had put away. Rose followed me round, half angry, half pleading.

"But what am I to tell them, if you leave tonight ?"

she asked.

"Don't tell them anything until the morning--then say I had a sudden fit of conscience about leaving Father alone and went by the early

train." I found my shoes at last and put them on.

"Oh, tell them what you damn well like. Anyway, I'm going."

"You're failing me- and just when I need you most desperately."

"Yes, to listen to your woes sympathetically and pat you on the back-sorry, nothing doing!" By then I was pulling all the drawers open, searching for my handbag. When I had unearthed it, I pushed past

her.

She had one more try at getting round me:

"Cassandra, I beg you to stay. If you knew how wretched I am his "Oh, go and sit in your bathroom and count your towels," I sneered at her.

""They'll cheer you up- you lying little cheat."

Then out I went, controlling myself enough to shut the door quietly.

For a second I thought she would come after me but she didn't- I

suppose she believed I really would scream out the truth and I think I might have, I was in such a blind rage.

The only light in the hall was a glimmer round the edges of the front door, from the outside passage.

I tiptoed towards it. Just as I got there, I heard a faint whimper.

Heloise!

I had completely forgotten her. The next moment she was there in the

dark with me, thumping her tail. I dragged her through the front door and raced to the lift- by a bit of luck it was there, waiting.

Once we were going down, I sat on the floor and let her put her paws

round my neck and get her ecstasy over.

She had her collar on and I used my belt as a leash-there was still

too much traffic about to let her run loose, even when we turned off

Park Lane into a quieter street. I was thankful to be out in the cool air, but after the first few minutes of relief my mind began to go over and over the scene with Rose--I kept thinking of worse things I might have said and imagining saying them. My eyes were still so full of the white bedroom that I scarcely noticed where I went; I just have a vague memory of going on and on past well-to-do houses. There was a dance

taking place in one of them and people were strolling out on to a

balcony- I dimly remember feeling sorry I was too absorbed in myself to be interested (a few months ago, it would have been splendid to imagine about). At the back of my mind I had an idea that sooner or later I

should see 'buses or an entrance to the Underground, and then I could get hack to the railway station and sit in the waiting-room. The first time I really came to earth was when I struck Regent Street.

I decided I must pull myself together--I remembered hearing things

about Regent Street late at night. But I think I must have mixed it up with some other street, for nothing was in the least as I expected. I had imagined a stream of brightly dressed, painted women going along

winking--and the only women I saw seemed most respectable, very smartly dressed in black and merely taking a last stroll; some of them had

brought their little dogs out, which interested Heloise. But I did

notice that most of the ladies were in couples, which made me realize that I oughtn't to be out on my own so late at night, Just after I had thought that, a man came up to me and said:

"Excuse me, but haven't I met your dog before ?"

I took no notice, of course- but, unfortunately, Heloise started

wagging her tail I dragged her on but he came with us, saying idiotic things like, "Of course she knows me -old friends, we are-met her at the Hammersmith Palais de Dance."

Heloise got more and more friendly. Her tail was doing an almost

circular wag and I was very much afraid that at any moment she would

climb up the man and kiss him. So I said sharply: "Hcl, who's

that?"--which is what we say if a suspicious-looking tramp comes prowling round the castle. She let of such a volley of barks that the man jumped backwards into two ladies. He didn't try to follow us any

more, but I couldn't stop Heloise barking--she kept it up right through Piccadilly Circus, making us terribly conspicuous.

I was thankful to see an entrance to the Underground at last-but not

for long, because I found they don't let dogs on the trains.

You can take them on the tops of 'buses, but there seemed to be very

few still running; by then it was long after midnight.

I was beginning to think I had better take a taxi when I remembered

that there is a Corner House restaurant close to Piccadilly and that

Topaz had once told me it keeps open all night. I had a great longing for tea, and I felt Heloise could do with a drink-she had stopped

barking at last and was looking rather exhausted.

So along we went.

It was such a grand place that I was afraid they might not let Heloise in, but we chose a moment when the man on the door was interested in

something else. And I got a table against the wall so that she could

be fairly unnoticeable under it- the waitress did spot her but only

said: "Well, if you got her past the door. But she'll have to keep quiet"--which, by a miracle, she did.

After I had unobtrusively slipped her three saucers-full of water she went solidly to sleep on my feet;

which was very hot for them, but I didn't dare risk waking her by

moving.

The tea was a comfort--and by that time I more than needed comfort.

Most of me ached with tiredness and my eyes felt as if they had been

open for years; but worse than that--worse even than my misery over

Simon, which I was more or less used to was the gradual realization

that I had been utterly in the wrong with Rose. I saw that the main

reason for my outburst hadn't been noble anxiety about Simon's

happiness but sheer, blazing jealousy. And what could be more unjust

than to help her to get engaged and then turn on her for it his How

right she had been in accusing me of failing her! The least I could

have done would have been to talk things over quietly. What made me

feel worst of all was that I knew in my heart that she was fonder of me than of anyone in the world; just as I was of her, until I fell in love with Simon.

But she shouldn't have said that about calf-love.

"How dare she!"

I thought.

"Who's she to decide that what I feel is calf-love, which is

funny--instead of first love, which is beautiful?

Why, she's never been in love at all, herself" I went over and over it all, while I drank cup after cup of tea-the last one was so weak that I could see the lump of sugar sitting at the bottom of it. Then the

waitress came and asked if I wanted anything more. I didn't feel like leaving so I studied the menu carefully and ordered a lamb cutlet-they take a nice long time to cook and only cost seven pence each.

While I waited, I tried to ease my misery about Rose by thinking of my misery about Simon, but I found myself thinking of both miseries