A Closed Eye Read Online Free Page B

presence, although Mr Lytton appeared taciturn in comparison. To judge from the fine sheen on his hair and his complexion he was wealthy. He seemed contained, thoughtful, a dry laugh merely escaping him from time to time. A man good at keeping his own counsel, making his way. He was with an oil company, he said: his large car stood at the door. Harriet, flushed from the evening air, was grateful to him for making her father laugh. There was a bottle of whisky on the little desk, and next to it the visitor’s fine black gloves. He was perhaps forty-five or forty-six, elderly. ‘Your father showed me how to make up my bed,’ he told her. ‘I hadn’t a clue.’ Merle and Hugh laughed. Harriet joined in politely.
    ‘Can I take you all out to dinner?’ he asked.
    ‘No, my dear,’ said Merle quickly. ‘It’s sweet of you, but after a day on my feet I’m whacked. But I’m sure Hattie would love to go.’
    She went, again moved by a strange politeness, the quality that stood her in such good stead in the bookshop. He made her drink a glass of wine, and ordered for her. She found him agreeable, if a little uninteresting. But kind, very kind. Encouraged, she talked about her job, about the books she was reading. She was flattered by his attention, reminding herself to make this the main item of her weekly telephone call to Tessa. She was happy as she thought about this, her small contribution to the great game. After paying the bill he said to her, ‘I have enjoyed myself. Would you like to do this again?’
    ‘Oh, yes,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘I should love to.’
    He walked her back through the beautiful evening, and rang the bell at the street door beside the shop. Merle appeared looking exhausted, but with a radiant smile, her feet encased in incongruous pink slippers.
    ‘Here she is,’ said Mr Lytton. ‘Safe and sound.’
    ‘Freddie, you are an angel. Did you thank Freddie, darling? Now we want to see you again. You’ve done Hughie so much good. And my poor Hattie doesn’t get out as much as I’d like her to. Say you’ll come again.’
    ‘Oh, I’ll come again, now that I’ve found you,’ said Mr Lytton. He raised his hat and kissed Merle on the cheek, then held out his hand to Harriet.
    ‘Goodnight, Harriet. Thank you for a very pleasant evening.’ And he melted away into the night, forgetting that his car was still at the door. Five minutes later they heard him drive off.
    In the dark hallway at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the flat Merle looked tensely at her daughter, then nodded.
    ‘Go to bed now, darling,’ she said. ‘I’ve put one or twothings in your room. A couple of dresses I brought home from Maddox Street. I think it’s time you took a bit more care of yourself.’
    Harriet heard her parents talking on the other side of the thin bedroom wall for what seemed like a long time. The wine had made her sleepy, and she gave no further thought to her evening. If she thought about it at all on the following day it was in connection with Tessa, for whom she had at last an item of news.
    And Tessa was intrigued, as were Mary and Pamela, all gathered together for once at Gunter’s on a Saturday afternoon.
    ‘Freddie Lytton?’ asked Pamela sharply. ‘My father knows him. He’s been to our house. He’s rich.’
    ‘But if your father knows him he must be pretty old,’ said Mary.
    ‘He is. He’s ancient. How on earth did you get hold of him, Hattie? He’s been married. His wife left him, or something. He’s
divorced
.’
    ‘I always blame the man if the wife leaves,’ said Tessa, with a worldly air.
    ‘Oh, so do I,’ they concurred, but Harriet, bewildered, said, ‘I thought he was rather nice.’
    All were alerted to the event while she was still in ignorance. New dresses awaited her in her bedroom when she returned from the bookshop, and sometimes Mr Lytton was there, sitting with her father. Harriet thought her mother might be attracted to Mr Lytton, so excited did