Free The Woman at the Window by Emyr Humphreys Page A

back to her work. That left him crosser than ever. He stamped out of the house fuming.
    ***
    A gap had opened between them that had never existed before. Gisella had always been aware of an irrational element in Hefin’s nature. She had believed it was necessary to the creative process. Now, all it seemed to be doing was fuelling his hatred for his father and she found this deeply troubling. He couldn’t even bear to see Bryn Tanat enjoying himself. At the party the newcomer was a centre of attention. When there were people to listen to him, he could always find something striking to say.
    â€˜What I like about their way of life is, it’s down to essentials. I like that.’
    He was talking to Frank Wilmot, an asthmatic London publisher who made his home on the island and gardened in friendly competition with their hostess. Dr Ortega, the local physician, was also listening and his wife Magda, a physiotherapist who treated Alison’s arthritis.
    â€˜Modern life has too many frills attached to it. Especially in capital cities.They set the tone. It’s all instant gratification. It can’t go on. The planet can’t sustain this degree of exploitation and people have to learn to live on less. But will they? There’s the rub.’
    As if to console himself Hefin had been drinking more than usual. Gisella trembled when she heard his voice in her ear. There was no knowing what he would say.
    â€˜Pontificating remind you of something? South Ken redivivus. He’ll form a government one way or another. And we’ll be attendant lords and servants. You can’t see it, because you don’t want to.’
    His father was threatening to steal the close attention and constant care his delicate talent needed. He was turning against her because he had no other target. And yet her heart bled for him. Their way of life depended on her love. She could not dare to be disillusioned. She made her way through the library to the short flight of steps that led to the roof garden. She knew she would find Ernst there, sitting alone on the parapet edge and gazing at the constellations. The stars all seemed so close, glittering powerfully through the unpolluted air. The comet was due to arrive above the horizon. Gisella sat close to Ernst and took his hand.
    â€˜They seem so close,’ he said. ‘They could be looking down with interest. But they’re not. Why should they?’
    From indoors they heard singing. Gustavo was accompanying himself on the guitar. People stopped talking to listen. His warm baritone was a melting sound in the quiet evening air.
    â€˜He’s written a song for Alison’s birthday,’ Ernst said. ‘He’s such a child really. He’s never grown up.’
    Gisella murmured ‘Ernst’ and squeezed his hand. They were fellow sufferers from the same strange complaint. How long was an infatuation supposed to last? They wanted to go on deceiving themselves because it would be intolerable not to. Gustavo stopped singing. There was clapping and laughter and animated conversation was resumed. The volume of sound increased as the wine flowed freely. Ernst and Gisella were alone on the roof, bringing some comfort to each other.
    â€˜I don’t know why he should be like this. I can feel how distressed he is. What can I do?’
    Gisella murmured her question. Ernst’s answer was abrupt.
    â€˜He’s jealous.’
    â€˜But there’s no reason at all…’
    â€˜You hold your ground,’ Ernst said. ‘I tell you. He’s nothing without you.’
    In twos and threes the guests began to arrive on the roof and look up at the stars with a sudden solemnity as though they were arriving in a roofless church. Gustavo arrived still strumming his guitar. He was the first to catch sight of the comet as it travelled majestically across the starry sky from the east. As they watched the comet everyone fell silent and subdued, only a dog