Clare touched his coat cuff, and there was another silence.
They had reached a wood when he slackened suddenly. ‘My lights have gone!’
A motor cyclist skidded past, calling: ‘Your lights are out, sir!’
Young Croom stopped the engine.
‘That’s torn it. The battery must be used up.’
Clare laughed. He got out and moved round, examining the car. ‘I remember this wood. It’s a good five miles to Henley. We must creep on and trust to luck.’
‘Shall I get out and walk ahead?’
‘No, it’s so pitch dark. I might run over you.’
After a hundred yards or so he stopped again.
‘I’m off the road. I’ve never driven in darkness like this.’
Clare laughed again.
‘An adventure, my dear.’
‘I’ve got no torch. This wood goes on for a mile or two, if I remember.’
‘Let’s try again.’
A car whizzed past, and the driver shouted at them.
‘Follow his lights, Tony!’ But before he could start the engine the car had dipped or turned and was gone. They crept on slowly.
‘Damn!’ said young Croom, suddenly, ‘off the road again!’
‘Pull her right in off the road then, and let’s think. Isn’t there anything at all before Henley?’
‘Not a thing. Besides, recharging a battery can’t be done just anywhere; but I expect it’s a wire gone.’
‘Shall we leave the car and walk in? She’ll be all right here in the wood.’
‘And then?’ muttered young Croom. ‘I must be back with her by daylight. I’ll tell you what; I’ll walk you in to the hotel, borrow a torch and come back to her. With a torch I could get her down, or stay with her till daylight, and then come down and pick you up at the Bridge.’
‘Ten miles walking for you! Why not both stay with her and see the sun rise? I’ve always wanted to spend a night in a car.’
In young Croom a struggle took place. A whole night with her – alone!
‘D’you mean you’d trust me?’
‘Don’t be old-fashioned, Tony. It’s much the best thing to do, and rather a lark. If a car came into us, or we were run in for driving without lights, that would be awkward if you like.’
‘There’s never a moon when you want one,’ muttered young Croom. ‘You really mean it?’
Clare touched his arm.
‘Pull her further in, among the trees. Very slow. Look out I Stop!’
There was a slight bump. Clare said:
‘We’re up against a tree, and our tail’s to the road. I’ll get out and see if anyone can see us.’
Young Croom waited, arranging the cushions and rug for her. He was thinking: ‘She can’t really love me, or she’d never take it so coolly!’ Quivering at the thought of this long dark night with her, he yet knew it was going to be torture. Her voice said:
‘All right. I should say no one could see the car. You go and have a look. I’ll get in.’
He had to feel his way with his feet. The quality of the ground showed him when he had reached the road. It was less densely dark, but he could see no stars. The car was completely invisible. He waited, then turned to feel his way back. So lost was the car that he had to whistle and wait for her answering whistle to find it. Dark, indeed! He got in.
‘Window down or up?’
‘Half-way down, I should say. I’m comfy, Tony.’
‘Thank God for that! D’you mind my pipe?’
‘Of course not. Give me a cigarette. This is almost perfect.’
‘Almost,’ he said in a small voice.
‘I should like to see Aunt Em’s face. Are you warm?’
‘Nothing goes through leather. Are you?’
‘Lovely!’ There was a silence; then she said: ‘Tony! Forgive me, won’t you? I did promise.’
‘It’s quite all right,’ said young Croom.
‘I can just see your nose by your pipe’s glow.’
By the light of her cigarette he, in turn, could see her teeth, her smiling lips, her face lasting just to the eyes, and fading out.
‘Take off your hat, Clare. And any time you like, here’s my shoulder.’
‘Don’t let me snore.’
‘You snore!’
‘Everyone snores on occasion. This will be it.’
They talked for a little. But all seemed unreal, except just being beside her in the dark. He could hear now and again a car passing; other noises of the night there were none; too dark even for the owls. His pipe went out, and he put it away. She lay back beside him so close that he could feel her arm against his. He held his breath. Had she dropped off? Oh! He was in for a sleepless night, with this faint perfume from her egging on his senses and the warmth of her arm tingling into his. Even if this were all, it would be sheer waste to sleep. Drowsily she said: