Read Online The Country Life by Rachel Cusk - Free Book Online

my disgust, I saw that Roy had risen on his hind legs and was licking the insides of the dishes on the sideboard.
    â€˜Oh, you revolting creature,’ said Pamela genially, apparently with no intention of stopping him. ‘Don’t worry about Martin,’ she added, to me. I saw that she liked to think of herself as being able to read other people’s minds. ‘He’s a little monkey.He likes to give everyone a real going-over before he lets them anywhere near him. He’ll be devoted to you before long, I promise you.’
    â€˜I liked him,’ I said, weakly.
    â€˜That’s very sweet of you,’ said Pamela. ‘He’s a dear boy. He can be very rewarding.’ She turned around abruptly and caught me leaning against the table. ‘Poor Stella, you must be exhausted after an evening in this madhouse. Why don’t you just turn in?’
    â€˜I ought to help,’ I said, hoping that she would refuse.
    â€˜Don’t be silly. Piers loves fussing about down here late into the night. He contemplates the meaning of life and all that. We’ll just put everything in the sink for him.’
    Almost resentfully, I resumed my clearing. Seeing my opportunity, however, I decided that this might be the time to approach Pamela about my duties.
    â€˜What time shall I be here tomorrow?’ I said.
    â€˜Tomorrow?’ Pamela looked surprised. ‘We aren’t expecting you tomorrow. It’s your day off on Sunday.’
    â€˜Oh,’ I said, overwhelmed by relief.
    â€˜Of course, you’re free to wander over. We’ll be having people for lunch, but you can come and go as you please. You’ll probably want a day to yourself just to get your bearings.’
    â€˜All right.’
    â€˜On Monday we’ll start properly. Martin’s usually raring to go by about eight thirty. Poor Stella!’ she said. Pamela was remarkably self-sufficient in conversation, and seemed to require few prompts from her interlocutor. ‘We haven’t really explained anything to you, have we? It’s all been such a rush, I can’t quite keep track of things.’
    â€˜Don’t worry,’ I said. Hearing my own voice, I was shocked by how terribly dull I sounded. ‘It’ll all work itself out.’
    â€˜But it won’t!’ said Pamela sharply. ‘Don’t you see that with a boy like Martin, things can’t just be left to work themselves out? It all has to be carefully planned and considered. He’s quitehelpless without us, and he needs his routines, so don’t think that we can just muddle along somehow, or work it out, as you say, as we go along.’
    Things had suddenly, and without my quite knowing how, taken a turn. I felt my heart begin to pound again with embarrassment and anxiety. Pamela did not appear to be entirely in control of herself.
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
    â€˜Well,’ said Pamela, unkindly. ‘Just so long as we understand one another.’
    â€˜If you could just tell me,’ I continued, close to tears, ‘what exactly his routines are, then I’ll find things much easier.’
    This comment was clearly spoken in my own defence, making it evident to Pamela that it was through her fault, not mine, that my sense of my own duties was muddled. I had judged her to be a good-natured woman, but whether through tiredness or simply the wearing off of her initial veneer of politeness, I now saw that she had somehow become committed to a brittle and ill-tempered mood which my very presence was guaranteed to inflame. Even her figure seemed to have taken on sharp edges and angles, and as she spoke she gestured quite violently with her thin hands.
    â€˜Stella, I really didn’t expect to have to mollycoddle you and lead you by the hand every minute of the day. We need to have someone here to help us, not double the load. If you don’t think