The Strange Experiences of Tina Malone/Chapter 6
CHAPTER VI.
ALICE GRIFFITHS.
It was the last Saturday that I was to spend in my flat. The White Priestess had run away from the deed, afraid to face me when the time should come for me to hand her the keys. My Anglican Materialist friend who lived next door had gone away for a change to the country. I had found a new flat so the worst part of the move was over—the worried uncertainty of a suitable home.
I had rushed with my troubles to the bookshop where Tony was employed and found strength in the clasp of his two hands on mine.
He did not say much, it was not his way. He let me talk but I felt the sympathy and strength there as he held my hand in his.
And so in the loneliness and the silence I took down my pictures, packed my books and tore up my floor-covering.
With a fierce pleasure I stamped up and down the uncovered floors hoping that every footfall would plant itself on Naomi's conscience as she rested down below.
On Saturday afternoon just as I was watching the evening haze come over the harbour and the lights begin to twinkle one by one, there came a knock at the door and Alice Griffiths was there.
"Oh! I am glad to see you," I said, and drew her in—"I'm going! And you'll never guess who is the cause."
She looked perplexed.
"Naomi," I said in answer.
Without knowing why I did it except that she was someone to confide in, I told her the whole trouble.
"What it is, you know, you were too fond of her. You know she was just the same with me some time ago. You're too romantic. I wish you belonged to our church. You would find such comfort in my religion."
"Yes, I've always thought it must be beautiful to have a Father Confessor," I said lightly, but sighing, "but I'm a Protestant," I said with as much emphasis as the word itself called forth. "I wouldn't change my religion for anything in the world. It would be like turning my back on my own family. Why did she quarrel with me?"
I could not keep my mind from the question.
Alice told me that she had came over that day to bring me some printed matter about a club that was being formed and thought she would end the day with Naomi.
"She may be in," I said, "go down and see and come back and have some tea with me."
But though she went down once or twice Naomi was not in. She waited with me till the evening was half gone and then we heard what we thought was Naomi's door being opened and Alice said:
"I'll go down now and see if it is she."
"Alice, see if you can make her make friends," I said. "Ask her to come in at least and say good-bye to me."
Alice nodded and ran down.
But though I stayed up for nearly an hour later packing, no one came. I heard them pass my door and Alice tapped and called "good-night" and they went on.
I let myself fall back on my heels and stopped packing.
What could it have been? What did they mean?
The silence of my empty rooms and this being treated as if I were a leper puzzled me. Why couldn't she let the thing pass for a tiff and blow over as so many other trifling quarrels had done.
The night I had tried to turn it from tragedy to comedy with the help of a tin-opener, I passed her as she was going to post a letter.
"Oh, Naomi!" I breathed just as she passed me.
"Tina Malone," she returned, "if you don't send me a written apology for that letter I'll put it in the hands of my brother-in-law who is a medical man."
"Then I shall take it in to a friend of mine who is a legal man," I said with still a feeling of melodramatic comedy at such childishness.
When I found after this that she would only speak to me through locked doors my temper rose one day.
"Very well, then," I said. "If you mean this to go on I'll take it to that friend of mine who is in the law."
I took it and was told after the letter had been read that it would only have the laughter of the court if such a thing should happen. I knew it and only took it because my sister had been flustered and begged me so hard to write an apology and have done with it.
"I will not," I said. "If I apologise it is putting myself in the wrong. I never meant any harm to her by it. I said it was unhealthy here because they fussed over trifles and she knows it."
To the last minute I expected her to come up and with just a word to have set things right. But she and the White Priestess, now sworn friends, went about their business together till Diana flew to the country.
Then, when, on returning to my empty rooms to clean out the rubbish, I caught an accidental glimpse of her it was too insolent that she should expect me to forgive her as she crossed the street to me with a smile.
It needed some courage to do it for it ended a companionship that had been very congenial, but a fierce pride at having been so treated, kept my eyes on the ground as I passed her by.