Chapter 23 Chapter Twenty-Three

Edward Angkatel stood hesitantly among the turbulent crowd on Scheftsbeli Boulevard.He was nervous to step into the building where the gold-lettered sign read "Mrs. Alfredge." Some vague intuition had prevented him from merely calling and inviting Mickey out to lunch.Snippets of that phone conversation at Hollow Manor distraught him—and shocked him, too.The resignation, the subservience in Mitch's voice hurt his feelings. For Mickey, free, happy, outspoken, just had to accept that attitude, had to give in, and she obviously succumbed to the rudeness, the disrespect, on the other end of the phone line.It's all wrong - the whole thing is wrong!And then, when he showed his concern, she told him frankly the unpleasant fact that one has to keep one's job, that jobs are not easy to find, and that one has to show talent to keep one's job. This fact burdens people far more than simply completing a prescribed task.

Only then had Edward vaguely accepted the fact that there are many young women who have "jobs" these days.If he'd thought about it before, he must have thought--generally, they have jobs because she likes them--that it satisfies their independence and gives them a joie de vivre . It never occurred to Edward that the fact that the working day, from nine in the morning to six in the afternoon, with an hour for lunch in between, completely separates a girl from most of the amusements and pastimes of the leisure classes.Mitch, unless she sacrifices her own lunch time, she can't visit a gallery; she can't go to an afternoon concert; an outing on a nice summer day; or a leisurely lunch at a restaurant far away .Instead, the excursions into the country could only be scheduled for Saturday afternoons and Sundays, and a hasty lunch in a crowded Lyons restaurant or snack bar was a new and pleasant discovery for Edward.He likes Mickey very much.Little Mitch - that's how he thought of her.Shy, but curiously wide-eyed, coming to Answick on holiday, opening little mouths at first, but then opening the floodgates with enthusiasm and love.

Edward's past tendency to prefer to live alone, and to always accept reality skeptically as something still unexamined, delayed his recognition of Mickey as an adult. It was that night at Hollow Manor, when he entered the house cold and shivering with the strange and depressing shock he had received from Henrietta, when Mitch knelt to light the fire, that he had first For the first time, I realized that Mickey is not a cute child, but a woman.It had been a depressing discovery - for a moment he felt he had lost something - something that was a precious part of Ainswick.He said impulsively at the time that the sudden rise of emotion, "I hope to see you more often, Mickey......"

Standing outside in the moonlight, talking to Henrietta, whom he was surprised to find was no longer the Henrietta he knew, the woman he had loved for so long—he felt a sudden onslaught of fear.He walked into further uneasiness in the programmed pattern of his life.Little Mitch was part of Ainswick—and she was no longer Little Mitch, but a brave, sad-eyed adult she had never known. Since then, his mind has been in a mess, and he has been deeply guilty of his lack of consideration for never caring about Mickey's well-being and well-being.The thought of her taking a job in Mrs. Alfredge's dress shop that didn't match her interests made him all the more worried.In the end he decided to go and see for himself what the women's clothing store where she was in was like.

Edward stared suspiciously in the window at a short black dress with a narrow golden belt; and some loose-looking knit coats that were too narrow; . Edward knew nothing but intuition of women's clothing, but he was shrewdly aware that all the dresses displayed in the windows were flashy things.No, he thought, this place wasn't worth her time.Someone—Mrs. Angkatell, perhaps—has to do something to change this. After trying to overcome his shyness, Edward straightened his slightly sagging shoulders and walked in. He was immediately bewildered by embarrassment.Two naughty and reckless little girls with silver-white hair and high-pitched voices were examining the clothes in a display case, and a saleswoman with brown-black skin was serving them.At the far end of the store, a small woman with a snub nose, reddish-brown hair, and a raspy voice was arguing with a pudgy, bewildered customer about changing an evening gown.From an adjacent dressing room came the disaffected, high-pitched voice of a woman:

"Horrible--terrible--can't you get me some suitable clothes to try on?" Then he heard Mitch's soft whisper—a submissive, persuasive voice: "This burgundy dress is really lovely. I think it would suit you well. If you can wear it—" "I don't waste my time trying on things that I can tell aren't good, just be careful. I've already told you I don't want red. If you've listened to what I've told you—" Blood welled up Edward's neck.He wanted Mickey to throw the clothes in the face of the obnoxious woman while she whispered: "I'll look again. I think you'd like the green one, ma'am? Or the peach one?"

"Ugly—too ugly! No, I don't watch anything anymore. Total waste of time—" But now, Mrs. Alfredge, leaving the pudgy customer, walked up to Edward, looking at him inquiringly. Edward controlled his emotions. "Ah—may I ask—is Miss Hardcastle here?" Mrs. Alfred raised her eyebrows.But at the same time, she saw Edward's suit designed by Savile Rowe, and she squeezed out a smile that was even more annoying than when she was furious. From the locker room came that shrill, high, hideous voice. "Be careful! You are so stupid. You are pulling my hairnet."

As for Mickey, his voice was a little unstable: "I'm very sorry, ma'am." "Stupid stupid thing." (The voice is subdued.) "No, I'll do it myself. Pass me my belt, please." "Miss Hardcastle will be all right soon," said Mrs Alfredge.Her smile is now a wink. A woman with light brown hair and a bad temper appeared in front of the locker room with several large bags and walked out to the street.Mickey, in a plain black dress, opened the door for her.She looked pale and unhappy. "I'm here to take you out to lunch," Edward said straight to the point.

Mitch glanced distressedly at the clock. "I can't leave until a quarter past one," she began. It's ten past one. Alsridge said kindly: "You can go now if you like, Miss Hardcastle, because your friend needs you." Mitch whispered, "Oh, thank you, Mrs. Alfredge," to Edward, "I'll be right away," and disappeared behind the store. Edward, cowed by Mrs. Alfred's emphasis on "friends," stood helplessly waiting. Mrs. Alfred was about to tease him when the door opened.A wealthy-looking woman walked in with a poodle poodle.Mrs. Alfredge's commercial instincts led her to meet the newcomer.

Mitch reappeared in his coat and took his arm, and Edward led her out of the store and into the street. "God," he said, "do you have to put up with that kind of thing? I heard what that damn woman said to you from behind the curtain. How can you put up with this, Mitch? Why don't you throw your top at her on the head?" "If I did that, I would lose my job." "But don't you want to throw things at women like that?" Mitch took a deep breath. "Of course I would. There were many times, especially during the summer sale, the last few days of the scorching heat of the week, and I feared I was going to spend the day telling everyone exactly how far their behavior would be tolerated— —instead of 'Yes, madam', 'No, madam'—'I'll see if you need anything else, madam.'"

"Mickey, dear Mickey, you can't take all this!" Mickey laughed, trembling a little. "Don't be sad, Edward. Why on earth are you here? Why don't you call?" "I wanted to see it for myself. I've been worried." He paused, then broke out, "My God, Lucy would never talk to a scullery maid like that woman talks to you. You mustn't It was a mistake not to put up with the roughness and disrespect. My God, Mitch, I would take you out of it all, to Answick. I'm going to call a cab, put you in it, take you now, by The train that leaves at a quarter past two goes to Answick." Mitch stopped.She pretended not to be interested at all.She spent a dreary morning with the fitting customers, and the ladies she took care of were mostly bullies.With a sudden spark of resentment, she rebuked Edward: "Oh, then, why don't you do that? There are so many taxis!" He watched her, surprised by her sudden anger.She went on, her anger erupting: "Why are you saying these things? You're not serious. Do you think I'll be relieved after a morning of hell to be reminded that there's a place like Answick in the world? You think I Would appreciate you standing there, babbling about how much you would love to take me out of it all? It's all sweet and insincere. You don't mean a single word of what you say. Don't you think I'll sell your soul to catch the 2.15 train to Ainswick and get away from everything? I can't even bear to think of Ainswick, do you understand? You mean well, Edward, but you are cruel! Say this—just say this..." They stared at each other face-to-face, making the crowds in the street in Sheftsbeli at lunchtime inconvenient.Yet they feel nothing but each other.Edward stared at her like a man suddenly awakened from sleep. He said: "Well, then, fuck him. You'll catch the two-fifteen for Ainswick!" He raised his cane and hailed a passing taxi.It stopped on the side of the road.Edward opened the car door, and Mickey, a little dazed, got in.Edward said to the driver, "Paddington Station," and followed her into the car. They sat in silence.Mickey's lips were tightly shut, and her eyes were defiant and defiant.Edward stared straight ahead of him. When they stopped for a green light on Oxford Street, Mitch said awkwardly: "I seem to be asking you to prove your lie." Edward said briefly: "It's not a lie." The taxi jerked and moved forward again. It was not until the taxi turned left on Edgewell Road into Cambridge Lane that Edward suddenly resumed his usual attitude towards life. "We can't take the quarter past two," he said, slapping the glass and telling the driver, "Go to Berkeley's." Mitch said coldly, "Why can't we take the quarter past two? It's only twenty-five past one." Edward smiled at her. "You haven't got any luggage, Little Mitch, no pajamas, toothbrush, and country shoes. There's another trip at a quarter past four, as you know. Now we're going to have some lunch and talk it over." Mitch sighed. "That's who you are, Edward. Always keep the practical side in mind. Impulse doesn't take you very far, does it? Oh, then, what just lasted was a sweet dream." Her hand slipped from his, and she gave him a familiar smile. "I'm sorry I just stood on the sidewalk and called you like a shrew," she said. "But you know, Edward, you're so annoying." "Yes," he said. "I'm pretty sure I was." Side by side they happily walked into the Berkeley Diner, where they found a table by the window, and Edward ordered a big lunch. After they finished eating the chicken, Mickey sighed and said, "I should hurry back to the store, my time is up." "You're going to have a normal lunch today, even if I have to go back and buy half the clothes in that store!" "My dear Edward, you are very kind indeed." They ate tortillas with orange salsa, and the waiter brought them coffee.Edward stirred the sugar in his coffee with a spoon. He said softly: "You really like pressing Swick, don't you?" "Do we have to talk about Ainswick? I'm alive after missing the quarter past two and I'm perfectly sane and have no problem with the quarter past four - but please don't dwell on it It's over." Edward smiled. "No, I'm not suggesting we take the quarter past four. I'm suggesting you go to Answick, Mitch. I'm suggesting that you stay in Answick forever—that is, if You can bear my words." She watched him over the rim of her coffee cup—putting it down with a hand she tried to keep normal. "What do you actually mean, Edward?" "I propose you marry me, Mitch. I don't think it's a very romantic proposal. I'm a dull bum, I know that, and I'm not very good at things. I just read and goof around. But even though I'm not a very happy person, we've known each other for a long time, and I think Ainswick itself will -- this, will make up for it. I think you'll be in Ainswick Be happy, Mitch. Would you like to go?" Mitch faltered once or twice, and then she said: "But I think—Henrietta—" and stopped. Edward said in a calm and emotionless voice: "Yes, I've proposed to Henrietta three times and she said no each time. Henrietta knows what she doesn't need." A silence followed.Then Edward said: "We'll stay together, Mickey darling, how about that?" Mitch looked up at him.Her voice was choked with excitement.she says: "It seemed so unusual—to be invited to heaven so easily, at a Berkeley restaurant!" He is radiant.He put his hand on hers for a moment. "Ready-made paradise," he said. "You'll feel like that at Ainswick. Oh, Mitch, I'm so glad." They sat there happily.Edward paid the bill and added a prodigious tip.The people in the restaurant began to thin out.Mitch took courage and said: "We've got to go. I think I'd better go back to Mrs. Alfredge. After all, she's still counting on me. I can't just walk away." "No, I think you'll have to go back and resign, or turn in your statement, or whatever you want to call it. Then, you're no longer working there. I can't stand this. But first I think we'd better go to a state The shop that sells rings in the Rue de la Rue." "ring?" "Normal, isn't it?" Mickey laughed. In the dim light of the jewelry store, Mickey and Edward hunched over the many plates of sparkling engagement rings.A wary salesman watched them benevolently. Edward pushed aside a velvet-covered saucer, and said: "No emeralds." Henrietta in a green tartan coat--Henrietta in an evening gown like a Chinese emerald...   No, no emeralds. Mitch wiped away the pinprick of the smile from his heart. "Choose for me," she said to Edward. He bent over the plate in front of them.He picked out a ring with a single diamond in it.It was not a very large diamond, but it was a diamond with beautiful brilliance and fire. "I like this." Mitch nodded.She liked Edward's infallible and finicky taste.She wore it on her finger as Edward and the salesman stepped aside. Edward wrote a check for three hundred and forty-two pounds, and walked back to Mitch, smiling at her. He said, "Let's go back and rough Mrs. Alfredge."