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Authors: Margaret Drabble
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cool in one so young. But he continued to stare at her, with his rather short-sighted brown eyes. He reflected.
âI enjoyed your lecture,â he said.
She laughed, but despite herself she couldnât help feeling pleased, even by so absurd a response.
âWell,â she said, âIâm glad somebody appreciated it.â
âOh, everybody enjoyed it,â he said, with that curiously insincere tone of his. She wondered why he employed it. Was it simply to prevent himself from sounding foolish? Or was it meant to intrigue? Or had he got a lot to hide? She couldnât imagine why he had said he enjoyed her lecture if he hadnât, and had to admit that on one not very important level she needed reassurance so much that even reassurance of this dubious nature was welcome. There was nothing she disliked more than the blunt open-hearted frankness of those who sought to ingratiate themselves with her by telling her that they didnât know anything about her subject, hadnât read any of her work or seen any of her programmes, and didnât intend to. It was extraordinary how often people seemed to think that such an approach would delight her. Perhaps Hunterâs line was simply a more sophisticated version of the same thing. If so, she preferred it to the other.
âDo you like lecturing?â she said.
âNot much,â he said, limply, âI donât do it if 1 can avoid it. And I usually can. You,â he said, this time with a positive note of accusation, âyou actually seem to
like
doing it.â
âI donât mind it,â she said. âWhy shouldnât I like it?â
âNo reason at all,â he said, implying reasons. âI envy you, thatâs all. I envy your energy. I admire you. Iâve just said so. Iâm the laziest person Iâve ever met. I admire you for doing so much. I just wonder why you do it, thatâs all. You neednât bother, need you?â
âWell, I have a family to support,â she said, but as she said it she knew that he knew quite well that that wasnât the whole or real reason. What did he suspect of her? Histrionics? Showmanship? Unprofessionalism? A slight panic began to flutter in her chest.
âI do it because Iâve got to keep moving,â she said. âI get so depressed if I donât.â
The truth, badly stated, sounded and was ridiculous. But he looked at her with curiosity and concern.
âDepressed?â he said, gently, delicately, as though unwilling to probe. Her tooth had become very noticeable again.
âWell, yes, depressed,â she said. âBut I find it quite easy to cure depression by work. One just has to keep moving, thatâs all. Otherwise one sinks. Iâm just an unnaturally energetic person, thatâs all. I even think sometimes that Iâm not really depressive at all, itâs just that for years I was underemployed. But I doubt if thatâs quite true, because my family are all depressives too.â
âAnd what do your family do about it?â
âOh, various things.â
âWhat things?â
She thought. âOh, the usual things. Suicide, drugs, drink, the mad house.â
âYou make it sound quite serious.â
âOh, I donât know. Most families are like that, arenât they?â
He thought. He smiled.
âYes,â he said. âI suppose they are. Certainly I can think of examples of all those lines of attack in my fairly immediate family. I just never worry about them though. In fact, I hardly ever think about them.â
âYou have a lucky nature,â she said.
âSo have you.â
âOne could say that.â
Her whole jaw was aching by now. She clutched at it.
âMy tooth is killing me,â she said. âI should have stayed and had it out.â
The look of spurious concern returned to his face.
âCan I get you anything for it?â
âNo, not
âI enjoyed your lecture,â he said.
She laughed, but despite herself she couldnât help feeling pleased, even by so absurd a response.
âWell,â she said, âIâm glad somebody appreciated it.â
âOh, everybody enjoyed it,â he said, with that curiously insincere tone of his. She wondered why he employed it. Was it simply to prevent himself from sounding foolish? Or was it meant to intrigue? Or had he got a lot to hide? She couldnât imagine why he had said he enjoyed her lecture if he hadnât, and had to admit that on one not very important level she needed reassurance so much that even reassurance of this dubious nature was welcome. There was nothing she disliked more than the blunt open-hearted frankness of those who sought to ingratiate themselves with her by telling her that they didnât know anything about her subject, hadnât read any of her work or seen any of her programmes, and didnât intend to. It was extraordinary how often people seemed to think that such an approach would delight her. Perhaps Hunterâs line was simply a more sophisticated version of the same thing. If so, she preferred it to the other.
âDo you like lecturing?â she said.
âNot much,â he said, limply, âI donât do it if 1 can avoid it. And I usually can. You,â he said, this time with a positive note of accusation, âyou actually seem to
like
doing it.â
âI donât mind it,â she said. âWhy shouldnât I like it?â
âNo reason at all,â he said, implying reasons. âI envy you, thatâs all. I envy your energy. I admire you. Iâve just said so. Iâm the laziest person Iâve ever met. I admire you for doing so much. I just wonder why you do it, thatâs all. You neednât bother, need you?â
âWell, I have a family to support,â she said, but as she said it she knew that he knew quite well that that wasnât the whole or real reason. What did he suspect of her? Histrionics? Showmanship? Unprofessionalism? A slight panic began to flutter in her chest.
âI do it because Iâve got to keep moving,â she said. âI get so depressed if I donât.â
The truth, badly stated, sounded and was ridiculous. But he looked at her with curiosity and concern.
âDepressed?â he said, gently, delicately, as though unwilling to probe. Her tooth had become very noticeable again.
âWell, yes, depressed,â she said. âBut I find it quite easy to cure depression by work. One just has to keep moving, thatâs all. Otherwise one sinks. Iâm just an unnaturally energetic person, thatâs all. I even think sometimes that Iâm not really depressive at all, itâs just that for years I was underemployed. But I doubt if thatâs quite true, because my family are all depressives too.â
âAnd what do your family do about it?â
âOh, various things.â
âWhat things?â
She thought. âOh, the usual things. Suicide, drugs, drink, the mad house.â
âYou make it sound quite serious.â
âOh, I donât know. Most families are like that, arenât they?â
He thought. He smiled.
âYes,â he said. âI suppose they are. Certainly I can think of examples of all those lines of attack in my fairly immediate family. I just never worry about them though. In fact, I hardly ever think about them.â
âYou have a lucky nature,â she said.
âSo have you.â
âOne could say that.â
Her whole jaw was aching by now. She clutched at it.
âMy tooth is killing me,â she said. âI should have stayed and had it out.â
The look of spurious concern returned to his face.
âCan I get you anything for it?â
âNo, not
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