Beowulf

think that I should be able to live to stand the terrible noise.”
“Have you tried ear plugs? They do say they give relief.”
“But if anything should happen,” Horatio objected happily, for Selina seemed to be in one of her rare conversational moods, “I think I should like to be aware of it.”
“Isn’t it better to trust to Fate?” It was astonishing to find the old clinging with such tenacity to life. What could poor Mr. Rashleigh get out of the days, she wondered; wouldn’t it be glorious to pass suddenly to a legitimate, eternal rest? Angelina did not believe in heaven any more; that was very brave of her, of course, but terribly comfortless. “We have a nice piece of mutton today,” she said solicitously, “be sure you get a slice.” She stepped aside quickly to allow a woman to pass, who, as she expected, went up to Mrs. Spenser’s table.
“It’s a snorter, that word,” Adelaide said, looking up from her crossword puzzle, “and how are you, Alice, after all this time?” Her sister-in-law had already acquired, she decided, the provincial look of the “cheap day-return” shopper.
“Oh, Adelaide,” Alice fumbled with her coat and draped it over her chair so that a sleeve, of course, trailed on to the ground. Her hands trembled as she piled her parcels up on a vacant chair. “It’s terrible.”
“Well, Alice, I told you, you wouldn’t like the country, not with your tendency to rheumatism. Why don’t you move home to your flat? If we have a direct hit,” she shrugged her shoulders, “they say we won’t feel anything, and otherwise I just put wax in my ears and forget all about it. Do you know, I slept right through the alert last night?” She sat back, the pencil still in her hand, with the newspaper covering the table. “I suppose you can’t think of a crested sea bird with six letters? Puffins have no crests, and there are seven letters in penguin.”
“No, Adelaide, do you know …”
“Soup?” Ruby inquired, her pad swinging from her belt like a bunch of keys.
“Yes, two soups; I expect it’s tinned but we must eat something, and afterwards—will you have mutton, dear, whilst we can get it or do you want a macaroni cheese?”
“I’d prefer a health salad if they still have them.”
Ruby nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. “Up to now they have been very good about serving fresh food, but gradually I suppose we shall have to get used to cans.”
“Yes, but …” Alice leaned forward, and her old felt slipped almost to the back of her head. She might have put on something decent for the trip, Mrs. Spenser thought; once you let go, it was overalls and dressing gown in no time. “Really, Alice, you can’t like those dismal fields, and I miss our little solitaire parties of a Friday, I do really; why ever don’t you come back to town?”
“Listen, dear, I am trying to tell you something awful….”
“Don’t say that your evacuees have measles; you know how very susceptible I am to any infection!”
“I’m trying to tell you,” Alice shouted, almost in tears, “that I’ve just been machine-gunned!”
“What, dear?”
“Machine-gunned. In the train. It doesn’t seem natural.”
“Nonsense. Danger is the spice of life, and we won’t give that man the satisfaction of thinking that we mind his antics.”
“I know you were born to be a general’s wife, dear, but I cannot think that being machine-gunned is an antic. I don’t mind telling you, now that it is over, I was frankly nervous.”
“Of course, I didn’t say that it was pleasant, but what exactly happened?”
“Well, I woke up this morning with a queer feeling. First of all my alarm didn’t go off, or rather it did; it woke me up at midnight and I forgot to set it again so I had a tearing rush to get to the station in time….”
“Alarm clocks are like the Government, always unreliable; they will explode at the wrong moment. If only we had been sensible in 1933 … and even Thomas was worried … there would be no Luftwaffe now peppering us with holes.”
“Perhaps, but I thought something must be wrong when the nine-five went off exactly to the minute, because you know how late the trains are nowadays. I had a beautiful corner seat and I had just taken out my library book when the old man opposite began to snort. Adelaide, he was eighty if he was a day and he had whooping cough.”
“How truly awful!”
“Yes, dear, I jumped up, grabbed my bag, and forced my way along the corridor, but by that time every compartment was crowded. At last I did find a seat beside a very old lady. She seemed to want to speak to me, and these days we must be democratic. Poor thing, her sailor grandson had just come on leave and had gone to the bookstall for a paper. Whilst he was there the train started.”
“It doesn’t sound a very auspicious beginning to your trip.”
“No, and it jolted so much that I couldn’t read, but fortunately I had my knitting.”
“To quote a platitude, the modern woman’s opium.”
“Oh, Adelaide, no, it’s not quite that,” Alice gave a little horrified giggle, “but we stopped suddenly in front of a little wood. Have you ever thought how dreary one of those, I think they call them coppices, looks in autumn when everything is damp but there is still a tattered leaf or two clinging to the trees?”
“No, Alice, I always took a strong line about the countryside, particularly in October. It is a month only to be endured in England by the fireside.”
“I sat there, thinking of Nature and of how it dies and is reborn with the bluebells and I remembered Mr. Chamberlain and how we prayed for peace. Why do you suppose that with all of us praying so hard, the war broke out as it did?”
“Because if people make guns it is human nature to want to use them.”
“If only machines