Read Online Wicked Women by Fay Weldon - Free Book Online Page A

“Hush, My Darling.”
    “Boring, boring,” said the child, and used the remote control to get to Sky and the Pop Channel. Then she put the volume up really loud and fell asleep contentedly. The telephone rang. It was Bob.
    “You’ll have to forgive me, Hattie,” he said. “Let me get this over. It’s Bob. I’m not worthy of you. Last week I asked Weena round. She stayed the night. It won’t happen again. It’s taken me three days to get up the courage to tell you. I don’t want it to spoil things between you and me. Please God it won’t.”
    “Are you at home?” asked Hattie.
    “I got fired,” said Bob. “There was a letter on my desk Friday morning. Now I’m so far down I guess there’s no way left but up, and I’m almost glad.”
    “But why?”
    “I guess it was Wednesday’s management meeting. First of all I was late—that was Weena’s fault, the little bitch. I know she did it on purpose—”
    “Don’t tell me; just don’t tell me,” begged Hattie.
    “Then I said how about Defoe Desmond’s biography, and there was a kind of silence. Well, it was a crazy idea, I know, but Weena wanted me to put it to them, so I did. In the letter it said my editorial suggestions weren’t in tune with managerial and financial goals, so I guess that was it. Suggest a has-been to the powers that be, get to be a has-been too.”
    “I see,” said Hattie. “So now you’re fired you’ll go on the dole and there’ll be no maintenance for your wife.”
    “I hadn’t thought of that,” said Bob.
    “I bet Weena had,” said Hattie.
    “You used to be her friend,” said Bob.
    “Not any more,” said Hattie. “And I’m glad she suffered from our crumbs. If you promise to change the sheets, I’ll come round.”
    “When?” asked Bob.
    “I’m looking after my sister’s little girl Amy,” said Hattie. “I’ll wait till she wakes and then take her home and come on to you.”
    “Wake her up now,” said Bob.
    “Certainly not,” said Hattie. “That would be immoral. She has to wake naturally.”
    Elaine moved stiffly round the bedroom, frowning and inefficient. Daphne stuffed the more obvious items of clothing and personal necessities into a suitcase.
    “Dad’s been taking something, Mum,” she said. “He’s not himself. Let’s just get away, shall we?”
    “Perhaps it would be better if I stayed,” said Elaine. “It doesn’t feel right just to go.”
    “I can’t leave you here on your own,” said Daphne. “And I can’t stay, so you’ll have to come.”
    “Why can’t you stay?”
    “Because Alison is taking Jumper to the vet at 7:45, and the vet’s a woman and just her type. I’ve been away for three days and I want to get to the appointment too.”
    “Do you mean the vet is Jumper’s type, or Alison’s type?”
    “Alison’s type,” said Daphne patiently.
    “Oh,” said Elaine. “And then you could have an operation to get to be an animal and then you could be Jumper’s type. Just a thought.”
    “Not a very good joke, Mum,” said Daphne. “Probably not,” said Elaine gloomily, and waved at the furniture. “What are you doing, Mum?”
    “Waving goodbye to the matrimonial fourposter,” said Elaine. “I was born in that bed. I had you in hospital. Peter too. Perhaps that’s what went wrong. Lack of faith.”
    “You’re talking strangely even for you, Mum,” said Daphne. “Let’s just get out of here.”
    “No, wait a moment,” said Elaine, clinging to one of the four posts of the bed. “I could compose a curse. I could curse your father and all his line.”
    “He doesn’t have a line. Just Peter and me.”
    “My mother cursed my father and all his line before she went,” said Elaine. “Before she jumped in the river. They found her down near the reeds. Why shouldn’t I do it too? It obviously works.”
    Daphne tried to prise her mother’s arms from the post, but failed. “Jesus, what a nightmare!” she said. “Compared to home, International