‘They did not mind it or they would not shout like this . . .
they would make war again, these people that shout. . . .’
And I felt that I could not bear it, that I must get away.
I wondered why I had come, and where I was going. I did not know.
I had no plan. I think I had come to Victoria because of Hugo,
because I last saw him there. But now, I did not go into the
station. I turned aside, and went along outside it, by the high,
blind wall in Buckingham Palace Road, and then I turned over
a bridge, the railway bridge that is there. I walked on and on,
and I got away from the crowd, but the noise was everywhere.
John seemed very heavy, much heavier than I had thought. He began
to cry and I rocked him, and still we went on through the grey,
drizzling streets. We came to the Embankment, not far from Chelsea
Bridge, and there was a seat. I sat down on the seat. I fed John
there, and rocked him to sleep. I felt suddenly, now, quite weak
and exhausted, as though I could not go on, and it seemed to
me that I understood now, for the first time, that Hugo was dead.
I do not know how long I sat there. I know I was very cold, and
so was John. He woke, and cried again, and I walked on. I came
to Albert Bridge, and passed it, towards the chimneys. When I
reached Mollie’s flat, I looked up, and the windows were open.
I was not surprised at all.
I went up the stairs, with John, and knocked on Mollie’s door,
and the knocking sounded loud, in a pause of the noise outside.
Mollie opened the door.
She cried out, as though she were startled, and stood back.
I walked past her into the room, and dropped down on the sofa.
It was a low sofa, and I felt as though I were falling a long
way, down and down and down.
Mollie was kneeling on the floor beside me. She took John from
me, and laid him on a cushion. She made up the fire and put the
kettle on to boil. Then she rubbed my hands, and asked me questions,
in her low, quiet voice, that I had not heard for so long. And
I lay back and watched her, as she moved about the room, and
I felt in a strange dream, as though the past had come back.