1984
Chapter 8
Theworstthingwasthepaininhisbelly. Foracoupleofminuteshehadthefeelingthathewoulddieifhedidnotreachalavatorysoon. Buttherewouldbenopubliclavatoriesinaquarterlikethis. Thenthespasmpassed,leavingadullachebehind.
Thestreetwasablindalley. Winstonhalted,stoodforseveralsecondswonderingvaguelywhattodo,thenturnedroundandbegantoretracehissteps. Asheturneditoccurredtohimthatthegirlhadonlypassedhimthreeminutesagoandthatbyrunninghecouldprobablycatchupwithher. Hecouldkeeponhertracktilltheywereinsomequietplace,andthensmashherskullinwithacobblestone. Thepieceofglassinhispocketwouldbeheavyenoughforthejob. Butheabandonedtheideaimmediately,becauseeventhethoughtofmakinganyphysicaleffortwasunbearable. Hecouldnotrun,hecouldnotstrikeablow. Besides,shewasyoungandlustyandwoulddefendherself. HethoughtalsoofhurryingtotheCommunityCentreandstayingtheretilltheplaceclosed,soastoestablishapartialalibifortheevening. Butthattoowasimpossible. Adeadlylassitudehadtakenholdofhim. Allhewantedwastogethomequicklyandthensitdownandbequiet.
Itwasaftertwenty-twohourswhenhegotbacktotheflat. Thelightswouldbeswitchedoffatthemainattwenty-threethirty. HewentintothekitchenandswallowednearlyateacupfulofVictoryGin. Thenhewenttothetableinthealcove,satdown,andtookthediaryoutofthedrawer. Buthedidnotopenitatonce. Fromthetelescreenabrassyfemalevoicewassquallingapatrioticsong. Hesatstaringatthemarbledcoverofthebook,tryingwithoutsuccesstoshutthevoiceoutofhisconsciousness.
Itwasatnightthattheycameforyou,alwaysatnight. Theproperthingwastokillyourselfbeforetheygotyou.
