Read Online A Closed Eye by Anita Brookner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anita Brookner
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instead of getting a move on, and I think, what can I do to make him stay? How can I make it come out right? Because that’s what I want.’
She moved back to her chair and sat down heavily, her face drawn. Her hair, Harriet could see, was not clean. How often she had envied that fair hair, when it was held back by a velvet band, when it bounced with cleanliness on Tessa’s shoulders … How commanding she had been, how one vied for her favour, her commendation! And yet gracious, intimate when it suited her. A glamorous friend. And she had had her pickof young men, was irresistible to the easily impressed. If she had married a weak man she would always have retained the upper hand. Not perhaps have known true happiness, but on the other hand never have known doubt. She would have stayed in character, stayed safe. Instead she had lighted on a strong man, and had instantly gone under. The doom, the terrible doom of a woman like that in thrall to the wrong man! Unused to circumspection, she had been revealed as simple, obstinate, and finally without resource, disarmed. This discovery had left her with a kind of hatred, which, as surely as anything else, would militate against any kind of happiness, which concessions might just bring about. But with a man like Jack, she thought, one could not count on happiness anyway. Women would find him attractive, and he would find them convenient. He was not made for conventional alliances.
‘You’ll be all right once the baby is born,’ said Harriet, with a conviction she did not feel. ‘Once you’ve got a bit more energy, when you want to go out again. If you got a nanny you could go back to your old job. Are you all right for money?’ It was not a question she had ever thought to ask.
‘Oh, money’s no problem. The parents are very good. And Jack, to give him credit, puts quite a bit in the bank from time to time.’
‘Well, then. I’m sure Angie would have you back.’ For Tessa had worked for a friend who was an interior decorator, which made the dilapidation of her own flat even more worrying.
‘I could, I suppose. Yes, I might do that, if things work out. I need to see more people. I just don’t have the energy somehow.’
‘We shouldn’t eat all this cake,’ Harriet said abruptly. ‘We should eat fruit. I’ll bring some tomorrow: apricots, or something.’
‘I couldn’t face them. I only want stodge.’
‘But you’re putting on too much weight! What does the doctor say?’
‘He says what you’re saying. Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be all right. I’m as strong as a horse. Let’s change the subject. Tell me about the house.’
But she had felt ashamed, ashamed to talk about carpets and curtains in this dusty place. And later, standing in the clean empty rooms, she found her pleasure in the house slightly dimmed. It seemed wrong to have so much when her friend had so little. Little of what I have, perhaps, she thought: she has Jack. The thought came unbidden. Nevertheless she felt an anxiety, even a disappointment that their roles had been reversed. The point is, she thought, that she was brave and confident, and I never was, and now, I suppose, I must be brave and confident for both of us. The idea was strangely disturbing. She went home and read
Little Dorrit
, which intensified her feelings of anxiety. And of sadness. For a moment, in spite of everything, she felt quite sad.
‘And how’s my girl this evening?’ asked Freddie, giving her a kiss. As her pregnancy advanced she was his girl again, allowed to be young once more. ‘Nice day? What did you do?’
‘Nothing much,’ she said, for she knew that he disliked her visits to Beaufort Street. ‘I got two beautiful soles for our dinner. We should eat more fish; all the doctors say so.’
‘Fine by me,’ he said, although he was of a meat-eating generation; a meal was not a meal without steaks or chops.
‘And I thought I might go down to Brighton tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I haven’t
She moved back to her chair and sat down heavily, her face drawn. Her hair, Harriet could see, was not clean. How often she had envied that fair hair, when it was held back by a velvet band, when it bounced with cleanliness on Tessa’s shoulders … How commanding she had been, how one vied for her favour, her commendation! And yet gracious, intimate when it suited her. A glamorous friend. And she had had her pickof young men, was irresistible to the easily impressed. If she had married a weak man she would always have retained the upper hand. Not perhaps have known true happiness, but on the other hand never have known doubt. She would have stayed in character, stayed safe. Instead she had lighted on a strong man, and had instantly gone under. The doom, the terrible doom of a woman like that in thrall to the wrong man! Unused to circumspection, she had been revealed as simple, obstinate, and finally without resource, disarmed. This discovery had left her with a kind of hatred, which, as surely as anything else, would militate against any kind of happiness, which concessions might just bring about. But with a man like Jack, she thought, one could not count on happiness anyway. Women would find him attractive, and he would find them convenient. He was not made for conventional alliances.
‘You’ll be all right once the baby is born,’ said Harriet, with a conviction she did not feel. ‘Once you’ve got a bit more energy, when you want to go out again. If you got a nanny you could go back to your old job. Are you all right for money?’ It was not a question she had ever thought to ask.
‘Oh, money’s no problem. The parents are very good. And Jack, to give him credit, puts quite a bit in the bank from time to time.’
‘Well, then. I’m sure Angie would have you back.’ For Tessa had worked for a friend who was an interior decorator, which made the dilapidation of her own flat even more worrying.
‘I could, I suppose. Yes, I might do that, if things work out. I need to see more people. I just don’t have the energy somehow.’
‘We shouldn’t eat all this cake,’ Harriet said abruptly. ‘We should eat fruit. I’ll bring some tomorrow: apricots, or something.’
‘I couldn’t face them. I only want stodge.’
‘But you’re putting on too much weight! What does the doctor say?’
‘He says what you’re saying. Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be all right. I’m as strong as a horse. Let’s change the subject. Tell me about the house.’
But she had felt ashamed, ashamed to talk about carpets and curtains in this dusty place. And later, standing in the clean empty rooms, she found her pleasure in the house slightly dimmed. It seemed wrong to have so much when her friend had so little. Little of what I have, perhaps, she thought: she has Jack. The thought came unbidden. Nevertheless she felt an anxiety, even a disappointment that their roles had been reversed. The point is, she thought, that she was brave and confident, and I never was, and now, I suppose, I must be brave and confident for both of us. The idea was strangely disturbing. She went home and read
Little Dorrit
, which intensified her feelings of anxiety. And of sadness. For a moment, in spite of everything, she felt quite sad.
‘And how’s my girl this evening?’ asked Freddie, giving her a kiss. As her pregnancy advanced she was his girl again, allowed to be young once more. ‘Nice day? What did you do?’
‘Nothing much,’ she said, for she knew that he disliked her visits to Beaufort Street. ‘I got two beautiful soles for our dinner. We should eat more fish; all the doctors say so.’
‘Fine by me,’ he said, although he was of a meat-eating generation; a meal was not a meal without steaks or chops.
‘And I thought I might go down to Brighton tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I haven’t
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