I thought about the picture Alicia had drawn of Margaret Lydia. Margaret Lydia called it a "nasty mockery." Well, it was time to go to Alicia's gallery. I was going to find out what had gotten into her aunt's hair.
When I left Cambridge, I was still thinking about Paul. I felt sorry for him, having to live with such a weird old woman and become her free servant. His life was very lonely, and I thought he probably didn't have many friends. Maybe he didn't even have a girlfriend. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he was still a virgin. Although he was tall and strong, I always felt that he was a little underdeveloped and frustrated in some way.
I took an instant dislike to Lydia...perhaps it was because she reminded me of my father. If I had stayed in my old house in Surrey with my parents, under the thumb of that lunatic, I might have ended up like Paul.
On the way back to London, I felt depressed. I felt miserable, exhausted, and close to tears. I didn't know if I was feeling Paul's pain or my own.
When I got home, I found that Emily was out.
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