Read Online At the Reunion Buffet by Alexander McCall Smith - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alexander McCall Smith
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thought much about it. Now she did. An actress. A good actress becomes the person she is portraying. A good actress can convince others that she feels what she says. A good actress could do everything that Barbara—or the sister—had done.
I have been completely misled
, thought Isabel. And then she added,
Maybe.
But did it make any difference if the Barbara who was at the reunion was the real Barbara or her sister? What had been said in the museum could be entirely true—even if the words came not from the person about whom they were spoken but from an accomplished actress. If there were good reasons why you could not do what you needed to do in person, then did it matter if somebody did it for you—as long as you meant it where it mattered—in that chamber of your heart where the most intimate feelings lodged? If moral scales needed to be righted after all those years, then did it really matter who carried out the act of balancing them? What counted, surely, were the apology and the forgiveness—if forgiveness was forthcoming. And it had been here—that was beyond doubt.
That was what she was thinking when another possibility occurred to her. She stood quite still, as if immobilized by the thought. It was possible that the Barbara at the reunion was really the younger actress sister—that was perfectly possible—but she may not have been sent by the real Barbara at all, having come of her own accord in order to apologize on behalf her sister
who was never going to apologize because she did not want to.
The thought dismayed her, because it was another possibility altogether introduced at a late stage. But, again, did it really matter? She had thought only a moment ago that it did; now she was not so sure.
“Jamie,” she said, “what should one do if one has considered a possibility, rejected it, and then one finds out that your hypothesis might have been correct all along. But, by the time you discover this, things have moved on.”
He did not hesitate to reply. “You forget about it,” he said.
“You’re probably right.”
He moved towards her and took her in his arms. “Kind woman,” he said. And then added, “Gorgeous.”
I have been completely misled
, thought Isabel. And then she added,
Maybe.
But did it make any difference if the Barbara who was at the reunion was the real Barbara or her sister? What had been said in the museum could be entirely true—even if the words came not from the person about whom they were spoken but from an accomplished actress. If there were good reasons why you could not do what you needed to do in person, then did it matter if somebody did it for you—as long as you meant it where it mattered—in that chamber of your heart where the most intimate feelings lodged? If moral scales needed to be righted after all those years, then did it really matter who carried out the act of balancing them? What counted, surely, were the apology and the forgiveness—if forgiveness was forthcoming. And it had been here—that was beyond doubt.
That was what she was thinking when another possibility occurred to her. She stood quite still, as if immobilized by the thought. It was possible that the Barbara at the reunion was really the younger actress sister—that was perfectly possible—but she may not have been sent by the real Barbara at all, having come of her own accord in order to apologize on behalf her sister
who was never going to apologize because she did not want to.
The thought dismayed her, because it was another possibility altogether introduced at a late stage. But, again, did it really matter? She had thought only a moment ago that it did; now she was not so sure.
“Jamie,” she said, “what should one do if one has considered a possibility, rejected it, and then one finds out that your hypothesis might have been correct all along. But, by the time you discover this, things have moved on.”
He did not hesitate to reply. “You forget about it,” he said.
“You’re probably right.”
He moved towards her and took her in his arms. “Kind woman,” he said. And then added, “Gorgeous.”
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