“Oh well, I don’t suppose it matters much. Nobody notices or cares.
“I saw David last night,” she added.
“He was all dressed up and really looked rather wonderful.” “Now don’t say you’re falling for him, too, Fran. He really is too awful.” “Oh, I know you think so. You’re such a conventional type, Claudia.” “Not at all. But I cannot say I care for all your arty set. Trying out all these drugs and passing out or getting fighting mad.” Frances looked amused.
“I’m not a drug fiend, dear — I just like to see what these things are like. And some of the gang are all right. David can paint, you know, if he wants to.” “David doesn’t very often want to, though, does he?” “You’ve always got your knife into him, Claudia… You hate him coming here to see Norma. And talking of knives…” “Well? Talking of knives?” “I’ve been worrying,” said Frances slowly, “whether to tell you something or not.” Claudia glanced at her wristwatch.
“I haven’t got time now,” she said. “You can tell me this evening if you want to tell me something. Anyway, I’m not in the mood. Oh dear,” she sighed, “I wish I knew what to do.” “About Norma?” “Yes. I’m wondering if her parents ought to know that we don’t know where she is…” “That would be very unsporting. Poor Norma, why shouldn’t she slope off on her own if she wants to?” “Well, Norma isn’t exactly — ” Claudia stopped.
“No, she isn’t, is she? Non composmentis. That’s what you meant. Have you rung up that terrible place where she works.
‘Homebirds’, or whatever it’s called? Oh yes, of course you did. I remember.” “So where is she?” demanded Claudia.
“Did David say anything last night?” “David didn’t seem to know. Really, Claudia, I can’t see that it matters.” “It matters for me,” said Claudia, because my boss happens to be her father.
Sooner or later, if anything peculiar has happened to her, they’ll ask me why I didn’t mention the fact that she hadn’t come home.” “Yes, I suppose they might pitch on you.
But there’s no real reason, is there, why Norma should have to report to us every time she’s going to be away from here for a day or two. Or even a few nights. I mean, she’s not a paying guest or anything. You’re not in charge of the girl.” “No, but Mr. Restarick did mention he felt glad to know that she had got a room here with us.” “So that entitles you to go and tittletattle about her every time she’s absent without leave? She’s probably got a crush on some new man.” “She’s got a crush on David,” said Claudia. “Are you sure she isn’t holed up at his place?” “Oh, I shouldn’t think so. He doesn’t really care for her, you know.” “You’d like to think he doesn’t,” said Claudia. “You are rather sweet on David yourself.” “Certainly not,” said Frances sharply.
“Nothing of the kind.” “David’s really keen on her,” said Claudia. “If not, why did he come round looking for her here the other day?” “You soon marched him out again,” said Frances. “I think,” she added, getting up and looking at her face in a rather unflattering small kitchen mirror, “I think it might have been me he really came to see.” “You’re too idiotic! He came here looking for Norma.” “That girl’s mental,” said Frances.
“Sometimes I really think she is!” “Well, I know she is. Look here, Claudia, I’m going to tell you that something now. You ought to know. I broke the string of my bra the other day and I was in a hurry.
I know you don’t like anyone fiddling with your things — ” “I certainly don’t,” said Claudia.
“– but Norma never minds, or doesn’t notice. Anyway, I went into her room and I rooted in her drawer and I — well, I found something. A knife.” “A knife!” said Claudia surprised.
“What sort of a knife?” “You know we had that sort of shindy thing in the courtyard? A group of beats, teenagers who’d come in here and were having a fight with flick-knives and all that.