Free The Old Jest by Jennifer Johnston

bananas … or anything. I jolly well won’t.’
    He leaned his head back against the wall and laughed.
    â€˜It’s no laughing matter. Get away. Go away. You …’
    â€˜I don’t mean to offend you. Believe me, I’m sorry. I just find things funny.’
    â€˜Don’t you realise that I will probably go to the police. The army … we … know officers in the …’
    â€˜I don’t mean to sound patronising, but you go ahead and do that, if you feel you have to. That’s all right with me.’
    She walked across the room and opened the door. Rain and wind burst turbulently in. The gull on the roof, disturbed by her movement, shifted its position. Its feet clawed impatiently, waiting for calmness again. She turned and looked back at the man. He leant against the wall still, a smile on his face.
    â€˜Goodbye.’
    â€˜Do you want to take your bananas with you?’
    â€˜Shut up! You damn … damn …!’
    She climbed up on to the railway line and walked down the line without looking back. Far out on the horizon a ship ploughed its way towards England. It looked like hard work, pushing its way through the grey rising sea. The sand rose in sheets and flew along the beach before the wind. The sleepers were slippery and the deep cracks in them were filled with water.
    Aunt Mary was crossing the hall as Nancy came in through the door. In one hand she held a cup of tea and in the other a plate of thin fingers of hot buttered toast.
    â€˜My dear child, you’re soaking. Where have you been? Run up and change at once or you’ll be all aches and pains tomorrow.’
    â€˜Tea …’ suggested Nancy.
    â€˜Don’t argue. If you’re quick, the tea’ll still be drinkable, it’s only just made. Your grandfather’s actually asked for toast. It’s amazing. He’s so much better today, the pet. Such a relief.’
    â€˜I’ll bring a cup up with me.’
    â€˜You shouldn’t dilly dally round when you’re wet like that.’
    Nancy went into the drawing room and poured herself a cup of tea. The pyramid of turf in the fireplace smouldered gently. She cut a piece of sponge cake and went back out into the hall. Aunt Mary was still there.
    â€˜There was something …’ she said vaguely. ‘Look at those drips on the floor, dear. Bridie will be most upset. Drip, drip.’
    â€˜Something?’
    â€˜Where is death’s sting?’ sang out the old man from his room across the hall.
    â€˜Coming, pet. Toast. Now what was it?’
    â€˜I hate that blooming old hymn.’
    â€˜Where grave thy victory?’
    â€˜Just this moment.’ She moved towards the door. ‘Harry, ah yes. That’s it.’
    â€˜Harry?’ Nancy’s mouth was full of cake.
    â€˜He telephoned. Luckily I wasn’t in the garden … all that rain. I should have been, it’s beginning to look like a jungle. I never hear the telephone when I’m in the garden … well, I do really, but Mrs Burke is so aggravating, she’ll never ring more than twice and you rush, huffing and puffing to the dreadful machine and she’ll say … I didn’t think anyone was in, Miss Dwyer. She knows perfectly well there’s always someone in. No patience. It’s not even as if she were madly busy. I suppose she can’t bear to tear herself away from all the fascinating calls she listens to.’
    â€˜Harry …?’
    She dropped a piece of cake on the carpet and stooped to pick it up.
    â€˜I triumph still if Thou abide with me.’
    â€˜Oh yes. He and Maeve are expecting you to dinner. Sevenish. Her parents are going up to town to some function or other and Maeve is entertaining Harry and you to dinner. Something like that.’
    â€˜And you said yes … Honestly, Aunt Mary!’
    â€˜I thought you’d want to go, dear.’
    â€˜How exasperating! How …