Read Online The Essence of the Thing by Madeleine St John - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Madeleine St John
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recalcitrance.
‘It won’t do , Jonathan,’ she said very gravely. ‘Really it won’t.’
He thought about this. ‘It will have to do ,’ he said. ‘It’s all I’ve got.’
‘Well, we’ll see, shall we?’ she said. Suddenly her impatience broke its bounds. ‘We’ll see, if it’s all you’ve got. I’ll be here for the rest of the week at least, whether you like it or not, so I dare say we’ll run into each other once in a while if not every single morning and every single evening. You may find you’ve got more to say after all—I hope for your sake that you do. If you truly haven’t then I’m well rid of you, because in that case, it looks as if you’ve had a brain transplant, and I hope it didn’t cost much because if it did then you’ve been ripped off. I should see the Trading Standards Officer if I were you.’
Oh, if only Susannah had heard her. Or Lizzie. Or best of all, both of them. How they would have cheered! As it was, Nicola was cheering herself. Where had it all come from? Hallelujah!
Jonathan was stunned. His eyes were full of incredulity and he was speechless. Nicola got up and put the dirty dishes in the sink.
‘Could you put all your clothes in the spare room cupboard,’ she said, ‘and any other bits and pieces you need from the bedroom. So that you won’t need to disturb me more than necessary. For the rest of the time that I’m here I’ll stay out of your way as much as I can, without overdoing it, naturally. Perhaps you could see to your clothes now—I want to have an early night.’
Still speechless, Jonathan stumbled to his feet and awkwardly left the room; Nicola, catching sight of his dazed expression as he did so, would for two pins have run to him and hugged and consoled him. My own love, she might have said, what is wrong ? But she sensed that it would have been futile: that the bewilderment on his face was belied by the murderous coldness which still quite evidently gripped his heart. So she turned instead to the sink and began to wash up.
28
He was in the doorway again; he made an awkward gesture. It was still difficult to address her.
‘I’ve—moved my things,’ he said. ‘The coast is clear.’
One might have thought that it was she who had asked him to leave.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I’ve made some tea, will you have some?’
He came in and sat down once more. He was carrying a plastic bag which he put on the table.
‘My mother sent you this,’ he said.
‘Oh?’
‘I believe it’s some marmalade,’ he said. ‘From the latest batch.’
‘How kind,’ said Nicola, opening the bag. ‘You haven’t told them, then?’
‘Told them what?’
‘That we’re no longer in a shared-marmalade situation. That you’ve given me notice. That I’m out of their lives.’
No need to pile it on, though.
‘I thought it best to wait, until—’
‘Oh, yes. Until I’ve actually gone. Very circumspect. Meanwhile I’ve got some marmalade. It seems like false pretences, but still. I must remember to take it with me when I go.’
She looked inside the carrier bag. There was something else there as well, wrapped in damp-looking newspaper. She withdrew it—an awkward, very light cone-shaped parcel.
‘What’s this?’ she said.
‘I don’t know. She didn’t mention anything else—it all happened at the last minute, as I was leaving.’
Nicola unwrapped the damp newspaper to discover a small and exquisite posy of early spring flowers—the sort of posy that only a woman with a garden can ever produce, lovelier by far than anything from even the very best florist. She sat down and stared at it for a moment, and then began carefully removing the wet newspaper from around the stems.
‘How enchanting,’ she said. ‘What a darling your mother is.’
Jonathan got up abruptly. ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ he said, ‘I’ve got some papers to look through before tomorrow.’
‘Oh, go ahead. Please . And oh, by the way, what time is that
‘It won’t do , Jonathan,’ she said very gravely. ‘Really it won’t.’
He thought about this. ‘It will have to do ,’ he said. ‘It’s all I’ve got.’
‘Well, we’ll see, shall we?’ she said. Suddenly her impatience broke its bounds. ‘We’ll see, if it’s all you’ve got. I’ll be here for the rest of the week at least, whether you like it or not, so I dare say we’ll run into each other once in a while if not every single morning and every single evening. You may find you’ve got more to say after all—I hope for your sake that you do. If you truly haven’t then I’m well rid of you, because in that case, it looks as if you’ve had a brain transplant, and I hope it didn’t cost much because if it did then you’ve been ripped off. I should see the Trading Standards Officer if I were you.’
Oh, if only Susannah had heard her. Or Lizzie. Or best of all, both of them. How they would have cheered! As it was, Nicola was cheering herself. Where had it all come from? Hallelujah!
Jonathan was stunned. His eyes were full of incredulity and he was speechless. Nicola got up and put the dirty dishes in the sink.
‘Could you put all your clothes in the spare room cupboard,’ she said, ‘and any other bits and pieces you need from the bedroom. So that you won’t need to disturb me more than necessary. For the rest of the time that I’m here I’ll stay out of your way as much as I can, without overdoing it, naturally. Perhaps you could see to your clothes now—I want to have an early night.’
Still speechless, Jonathan stumbled to his feet and awkwardly left the room; Nicola, catching sight of his dazed expression as he did so, would for two pins have run to him and hugged and consoled him. My own love, she might have said, what is wrong ? But she sensed that it would have been futile: that the bewilderment on his face was belied by the murderous coldness which still quite evidently gripped his heart. So she turned instead to the sink and began to wash up.
28
He was in the doorway again; he made an awkward gesture. It was still difficult to address her.
‘I’ve—moved my things,’ he said. ‘The coast is clear.’
One might have thought that it was she who had asked him to leave.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I’ve made some tea, will you have some?’
He came in and sat down once more. He was carrying a plastic bag which he put on the table.
‘My mother sent you this,’ he said.
‘Oh?’
‘I believe it’s some marmalade,’ he said. ‘From the latest batch.’
‘How kind,’ said Nicola, opening the bag. ‘You haven’t told them, then?’
‘Told them what?’
‘That we’re no longer in a shared-marmalade situation. That you’ve given me notice. That I’m out of their lives.’
No need to pile it on, though.
‘I thought it best to wait, until—’
‘Oh, yes. Until I’ve actually gone. Very circumspect. Meanwhile I’ve got some marmalade. It seems like false pretences, but still. I must remember to take it with me when I go.’
She looked inside the carrier bag. There was something else there as well, wrapped in damp-looking newspaper. She withdrew it—an awkward, very light cone-shaped parcel.
‘What’s this?’ she said.
‘I don’t know. She didn’t mention anything else—it all happened at the last minute, as I was leaving.’
Nicola unwrapped the damp newspaper to discover a small and exquisite posy of early spring flowers—the sort of posy that only a woman with a garden can ever produce, lovelier by far than anything from even the very best florist. She sat down and stared at it for a moment, and then began carefully removing the wet newspaper from around the stems.
‘How enchanting,’ she said. ‘What a darling your mother is.’
Jonathan got up abruptly. ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ he said, ‘I’ve got some papers to look through before tomorrow.’
‘Oh, go ahead. Please . And oh, by the way, what time is that
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