The Saint Zita Society by Ruth Rendell Page B

likelihood of a rebuff from his employer who would certainly find out about it. Eventually, all he could come up with was to get into Halloween fancy dress on the evening of 31 October and, attired in a black robe bought in an Asian shop, his face painted in black and white to look like a skull, walk up to the Dugong for a drink with Jimmy at eight.
    He met no child celebrants on the way, but seeing Damian and Roland approaching, jumped out on them from behind a tree, groaning appropriately and flapping his hands. Roland swore but Damian jumped and took a step back.
    ‘Isn’t it time you grew up?’ said Roland.
    Henry laughed. Perhaps he could persuade Jimmy to join him in a haunting of Eaton Place and stand with him on the steps of the Royal Court Theatre, collecting for some fictitious charity. But Jimmy was dressed in his normal clothes and interested in traditional high jinks only from the point of view of banning them. Dr Jefferson, he said, being famously concerned for children in every aspect, believed they were endangered by wandering the streets and ringing strangers’ doorbells. After a couple of beers (Jimmy) and two glasses of red wine (Henry) they moved out into the street, looking for offenders, but the squares and crescents and streets of Belgravia were empty of children and it had begun to rain.
    For Dex the evening was full of fear and strange sights. He had forgotten why he had gone out in the first place, perhaps to buy a bottle of Guinness or a Thai takeaway. Whatever it was, it had been driven out of his head by the evil spirits to be seen round every corner, for the district where Dex lived was more populated by children and teenagers than Hexam Place and its environs. They were, it seemed to him, everywhere in their cloaks and masks, their face paint and their wigs and helmets. Shouting and dancing and congregating on doorsteps. He recognised them for what they were. What surprised him was that there were so many of them and all together, all of the same sort of age, and not one looking like a real child but disguised as evil spirits always will disguise themselves. Peach would perhaps wanthim to destroy them but he couldn’t, not so many. They would overpower him.
    He was getting soaked, the rain drenching his hair and trickling down his thin jacket. He went home empty-handed, having quite forgotten what he went out for.

CHAPTER NINE
    ‘I like it here,’ Huguette said. ‘Why haven’t we ever been here before?’
    Henry shook his head. ‘Because it’s too near your mum and dad’s place.’
    And too popular with their housekeeper and the butler or whatever he is and a lot of other people who might speak out of turn. He suspected that Huguette wanted them to be caught, the alternative that he move in with her and they use the pub round the corner on the King’s Road.
    ‘What are you going to say if your dad comes in here and sees you with me? Just what?’ The much worse possibility was if her mother came in. Henry didn’t want even to think about that one.
    ‘He won’t, he’s out somewhere. I’d just say I was on my way to their place and I ran into you and you said to come and have a drink.’
    ‘Anyway, I’m not drinking and I’ve got to pick your dad up in ten minutes.’
    ‘I want you to think about asking him for my hand in marriage.’
    ‘You what?’
    ‘We’d have such nice-looking kids. We’re a handsome couple. Don’t you think? He might say yes because of that.’
    ‘I’m not risking it,’ said Henry.
    ‘Where are you picking him up?’
    ‘At the House of course.’
    ‘Then you can take me home first.’
    It was easier than arguing.
    ‘I’ll bring the Beemer round the corner.’ Henry left her there and went cautiously out into Hexam Place. But not cautiously enough. There, on the pavement outside number 3 was Beacon talking to Jimmy. Henry gave them an insouciant sort of wave and got into the driver’s seat of the BMW. By the time he had turned round the