Three to See the King

Painter,’ I explained. The person I went to see this morning.’
    ‘He’s got an overnight bag,’ she replied.
    ‘Yes, he’s come to stay for a while.’
    ‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Simon.
    ‘Pleased to meet you,’ she answered, without looking at him.
    At this moment Simon displayed a flair for diplomacy which I didn’t know he had, and stepped outside again.
    ‘Oh marvellous view!’ we could hear him saying. ‘Absolutely marvellous.’
    I advanced halfway up the stairs towards Mary Petrie.
    ‘What’s he doing here?’ she asked.
    ‘He’s come to keep you company.’
    ‘What for?’
    ‘You said you didn’t want to be here on your own.’
    ‘That wasn’t what I meant.’
    ‘Wasn’t it?’
    ‘Of course not.’
    ‘Well, what did you mean then?’
    She looked at me for a long time. The expression on her face did not change, but at last I understood.
    4
    I tell you, I was up those stairs in two strides! For the next half minute or so I forgot about the sublime and esoteric pleasures of living in a house of tin! I forgot about the wind that blasts across the plain all night and day. And I forgot about Simon Painter, waiting at a discreet distance outside the door.
    Mary Petrie, however, had not forgotten him.
    ‘That’ll do for now,’ she murmured in my ear. ‘You’ll just have to wait until he’s gone.’
    ‘OK,’ I said. ‘I’ll get rid of him.’
    This was easier said than done. When I got downstairs and saw Simon standing there with his overnight bag, I knew I couldn’t just turn him away.
    ‘Everything alright?’ he asked.
    ‘Yes,’ I replied. Tine.’
    ‘I’m not in the way then?’
    ‘No, of course not.’
    ‘Thanks,’ he said, smiling. ‘House is looking good.’
    ‘Yes, I try to keep it ship-shape,’ I laid my hand on the tin wall and noticed how cold it felt. ‘Why don’t you come in?’
    Mary Petrie was still standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at us, when we entered. I sat Simon at the table then quickly went back up to her.
    ‘He’ll have to stay a while,’ I said, lowering my voice. ‘He came here especially.’
    That’s up to you,’ she answered. ‘I’ve got plenty of time.’
    Her voice was the softest I’d ever heard it. She came down to meet our guest properly, and he rose to meet her.
    ‘So you’re Simon Painter,’ she said. ‘How nice to put a face to a name.’
    As a matter of fact I’d never mentioned him before, but he seemed so pleased with the remark that I didn’t say anything. During the following hours she treated him to all her charms, and made him feel thoroughly at home. Meanwhile, I kept wondering how long we could expect him to stay. In truth, I had only one thing on my mind at that moment, and there was definitely no part in it for Simon Painter. I also asked myself why she’d left it so long to let her feelings be revealed. To think she’d been staying here all that time and I’d had no idea! A few words would have been enough to let me know, but instead she’d kept it all to herself. Now, as I watched her entertaining Simon so generously, she appeared in no particular hurry to get shot of him. The events of the afternoon had held great promise, yet it was almost as if she was taking delight in further prolonging the outcome. From time to time she glanced at me with sparkling eyes and smiled. Mostly, though, her attention was turned to Simon.
    As for him, he was basking in every moment. He talked and talked about how wonderful it was for the three of us to be sitting together like this, enjoying each other’s companionship with the stove to keep us warm. It transpired that in the few minutes it had taken him to pack he’d managed to include a gift. This was a framed picture of his house of tin, which Mary Petrie accepted with good grace and placed on the shelf.
    ‘Very kind of you,’ she said.
    ‘My pleasure,’ he replied. ‘It’s traditional in these parts to come bearing gifts.’
    Well it was the first I’d heard of it! I had taken Simon a present that morning because I knew he expected one, and for no other reason whatsoever. The way he spoke about it being ‘traditional in these parts’ made it sound as though everyone in the locality was part of some big happy family. The reality, of course, was quite different. As far as I knew nobody saw anyone else from one month to the next because they all wanted to be independent. The idea of being regarded as one of the ‘folk’ who lived in