Three to See the King

to drift into a state of permanent hibernation, the honeymoon suddenly ended.
    It happened when I remembered I hadn’t been out to clear away the sand for some time. I went downstairs and opened the door, to be confronted with a great pile that practically fell inside. Closing the door again I sat and got my boots on, just as Mary Petrie joined me. She took her usual place next to the stove.
    ‘If this had been Simon Painter’s house we’d have been in trouble,’ I remarked. ‘His door opens outwards so we’d be blocked in.’
    ‘That’s alright,’ she said, smiling. ‘We’d just have to wait till we were rescued.’
    ‘It’s a serious matter actually,’ I replied.
    Taking the broom I began sweeping up the remnants of sand that had spilled through the doorway.
    ‘Stop that at once!’ cried Mary Petrie.
    I looked at her and noticed the smile had disappeared.
    ‘What’s the matter?’
    ‘I don’t want you doing that while I’m here,’ she said. The sand goes everywhere.’
    That’s why I’m sweeping it up,’ I said.
    ‘Not when I’m here!’ she exclaimed.
    ‘When then?’
    ‘When I go out! Look, I’ll be going for a walk later. Do it then.’
    ‘Alright, but I didn’t know you’d be going out, did I?’
    ‘Well, you know now.’
    Feeling slightly shell-shocked by this sudden burst of hostility I went outside and shovelled away the drift, taking care to keep well clear of the door. All morning I kept at it, before and after breakfast, working in a wind that showed no sign of letting up. The weather had turned quite cold now, and I wondered if Mary Petrie was serious about going for a walk. Sure enough, though, sometime around noon she came out of the house wearing a big coat, and set off without saying anything. I watched as her diminishing figure headed into the distance. Then, when she was reduced to a tiny speck on the horizon, she turned and began to follow a wide arc around the house. This was the time I was supposed to be sweeping up inside, so I quickly went and got on with it. When I’d finished there wasn’t a grain of sand anywhere, and the whole place was looking spick-and-span. Expecting Mary Petrie to be back at any time I prepared some coffee, then went to the doorway and looked out. At first I couldn’t see her at all, but as my eyes became accustomed to the daylight I spotted her far away to the west. I then realized she was walking a full circle, keeping the house just in sight. It dawned on me at the same moment that this was the first occasion I’d been there on my own for quite a while, so I decided to make the most of it. I went back inside, closed the door, and resumed my former pastime of listening to the walls creak in the blustery wind. When she returned about an hour later, I was on the verge of dozing into a peaceful sleep.
    ‘I could hear a bell clanging somewhere out there,’ she said, as she removed her coat.
    ‘It’s Simon Painter’s,’ I explained. ‘To let people know where he lives. Have a good walk, did you?’
    ‘Yes, thanks. Quite invigorating.’
    ‘Is that why you went out?’ I asked. ‘To be invigorated?’
    ‘Not really, no,’ she answered.
    It wasn’t until the next day that I discovered the true reason. I’d got up fairly early and been out to clear away yet more sand. By the time Mary Petrie came down I was sitting at the table having breakfast.
    ‘Quite windy again last night,’ I said.
    ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘I heard it.’
    ‘I expect Simon Painter’s door’ll be blocked up.’
    She sighed, but said nothing.
    ‘He really ought to have it opening inwardly,’ I continued. That’d be a much better arrangement by far.’ ‘Right,’ she said, reaching for her coat. ‘I’m going out.’ ‘Already?’ I asked. ‘You’ve only just got up.’ ‘I don’t care. I’m not staying cooped up here with you all day.’
    ‘Why, what have I done?’ ‘You keep going on about Simon’s house.’ ‘No, I don’t.’
    ‘Yes you do. You’re always criticizing it.’ ‘Well,’ I said. ‘I only mentioned his door opened the wrong way.’
    ‘There you go again,’ she said. ‘I’m not interested.’ ‘But you must be interested. You live in a house of tin yourself.’
    ‘Look!’ she snapped. ‘I’m going out! See you later.’ From then on she went for a walk every day, sometimes saying goodbye and sometimes not. After she’d gone I’d quickly do any sweeping up that was needed, before settling down to