A City of Strangers
“Finally he said, “I don’t want to go back, not yet,” and that settled it. They didn’t like leaving him alone, but he was such a self-contained boy, so quietly assured, that they thought it would be all right. Anyway, said Malcolm, it was silly to treat him with a protectiveness he had certainly never known at home.
So they drove off, hardly more eager themselves. When they drew up outside their old house the acrid smell was still insistent, penetrating. They got out and stood looking at the bur...ned-out wreck of the Phelans’ house—a blackened skull with charred and gaping holes for eyes. It sat perfectly aptly in the chaos of rubbish that was their garden, guarded now by a uniformed constable, to whom Malcolm raised his hand in greeting. Their own house, the other half of the same structure, was not in any way a sentimental object for them, but it held memories of their first months of marriage. They stood for a moment on the pavement holding hands. Then they went in.
There was nothing damaged, of course.MoreLess
So they drove off, hardly more eager themselves. When they drew up outside their old house the acrid smell was still insistent, penetrating. They got out and stood looking at the bur...ned-out wreck of the Phelans’ house—a blackened skull with charred and gaping holes for eyes. It sat perfectly aptly in the chaos of rubbish that was their garden, guarded now by a uniformed constable, to whom Malcolm raised his hand in greeting. Their own house, the other half of the same structure, was not in any way a sentimental object for them, but it held memories of their first months of marriage. They stood for a moment on the pavement holding hands. Then they went in.
There was nothing damaged, of course.MoreLess
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