“I didn’t know you had a car,” he said blankly
“He thinks this is our car,” Cora called to Sydney.
Sydney laughed. It had a mirthless sound. He started the engine and drove the car slowly down the alley.
“Well, isn’t it your car?” George asked.
“We borrowed it,” Sydney said. “Now shut up. I want to think “
They drove out of London in silence. As Big Ben, coming over a wireless set, struck nine, they passed through Wimbledon. Later they got on to the Reigate road.
George sat hunched up, alone and lost. He thought of his room in the dull boarding-house and Leo. That part of his life seemed remote now: he wasn’t even sure that it had ever happened. But Cora—he could feel her thigh against his—was real enough, so was the back of Sydney’s head, and the swift passage of the car through the darkening streets: all frighteningly real.
He lost count of time He didn’t want to think about it. He felt that the car was taking him towards a destiny from which there was no escape.
Sydney leaned forward and switched on the headlights. “We turn off just about here,” he said shortly: there was a nervous hesitation in his voice.
They peered through the windows. They were overanxious, as if it were the most important thing in the world not to miss the turning.