On The Beach

He filled a thermos jug with the boiling water, and put it neatly on a tray with the two glasses, the brandy, and half a lemon, and took it into the bedroom. Then he wheeled the cot back and put it by the bedside. Mary was in bed looking clean and fresh; she sat up weakly as he wheeled the cot to her.

He said, "Shall I pick her up?" He thought that she might like to hold the baby for a little.

She shook her head. "She's too ill." She sat looking down at the child for a minute, and then lay back wearily. "I'd rather think about her like she was, when we were all well. Give her the thing, Peter, and let's get this over."

She was right, he thought; it was better to do things quickly and not agonize about them. He gave the baby the injection in the arm. Then he undressed himself and put on clean pyjamas, turned out all the lights in the flat except their bedside light, put up the fire screen in the sitting room, and lit a candle that they kept in case of a blackout of the electricity. He put that on the table by their bed and turned off the current at the main.

He got into bed with Mary, mixed the drinks, and took the tablets out of the red cartons. "I've had a lovely time since we got married," she said quietly. "Thank you for everything, Peter."

He drew her to him and kissed her. "I've had a grand time, too," he said. "Let's end on that."

They put the tablets in their mouths, and drank.

That evening Dwight Towers rang up Moira Davidson at Harkaway. He doubted when he dialled if he would get through, or if he did, whether there would be an answer from the other end. But the automatic telephone was still functioning, and Moira answered him almost at once.

"Say," he said, "I wasn't sure I'd get an answer. How are things with you, honey?"

"Bad," she said. "I think Mummy and Daddy are just about through."

"And you?"

"I'm just about through, too, Dwight. How are you?"

"I'd say I'm much the same," he said. "I rang to say good-bye for the time being, honey. We're taking Scorpion out tomorrow morning to sink her."

"You won't be coming back?" she asked.

"No, honey. We shan't be coming back. We've just got this last job to do, and then we've finished." He paused. "I called to say thank you for the last six months," he said. "It's meant a lot to me, having you near."

"It's meant a lot to me, too," she said. "Dwight, if I can make it, may I come and see you off?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Sure," he said. "We can't wait, though. The men are pretty weak right now, and they'll be weaker by tomorrow."

"What time are you leaving?"

"We're casting off at eight o'clock," he said. "As soon as it's full daylight."

She said, "I'll be there."

He gave her messages for her father and her mother, and then rang off. She went through to their bedroom, where they were lying in their twin beds, both of them sicker than she was, and gave them the messages. She told them what she wanted to do. "I'll be back by dinnertime," she said.

Her mother said, "You must go and say good-bye to him, dearie. He's been such a good friend for you. But if we're not here when you come back, you'must understand."

She sat down on her mother's bed. "As bad as that, Mummy?"

"I'm afraid so, dear. And Daddy's worse than me today. But we've got everything we need, in case it gets too bad."

From his bed her father said weakly, "Is it raining?"

"Not at the moment, Daddy."

"Would you go out and open the stockyard gate into the lane, Moira? All the other gates are open, but they must be able to get at the hay."

"I'll do that right away, Daddy. Is there anything else I can do?"

He closed his eyes. "Give Dwight my regards. I wish he'd been able to marry you."

"So do I," she said. "But he's the kind of man who doesn't switch so easily as that."

She went out into the night and opened the gate and checked that all the other gates in the stockyard were open; the beasts were nowhere to be seen. She went back into the house and told her father what she had done; he seemed relieved. There was nothing that they wanted; she kissed them both good night and went to bed herself, setting her little alarm clock for five o'clock in case she slept.

She slept very little. In the course of the night she visited the bathroom four times, and drank half a bottle of brandy, the only thing she seemed to be able to keep down. She got up when the alarm went off and had a hot shower, which refreshed her, and dressed in the red shirt and slacks that she had worn when she had met Dwight first of all, so many months ago. She made her face up with some care and put on an overcoat. Then she opened the door of her parents' room quietly and looked in, shading the light of an electric torch between her fingers. Her father seemed to be asleep, but her mother smiled at her from the bed; they, too, had been up and down most of the night. She went in quietly and kissed her mother, and then went, closing the door sof tly behind her.