course. If I were nicely settled in a house in the country with furniture â I presume youâve got furniture â and all the usual amenities, I certainly shouldnât abandon it all for Jake. Heâs totally unreliable, always has been. And I wasnât even aware that he liked children. Do you,â he enquired blandly of Jake, âlike children?â
âOf course. Iâm mad about children. Always have been.â
âReally? How strange. Now I would have thought you would have found them tremendously boring. Have you
known
many children?â
âYou see?â Jake said. âI told you. Heâs impossible.â
âYouâre not drinking all my Scotch, are you?â
âIâll get you another bottle.â
âWhere? Itâs Thursday, you know, early closing.â
âIâll go down to the pub before lunch and get you another bottle. All right?â
âYou will see that he does, wonât you?â the old man asked me. âHe
plunders
me, you know. The last time he was here he walked off with my razor â â
âFor heavenâs sake,â Jake said, âyou had
six
razors.â
âI need six razors. I hope you brought it back.â
âNo. I didnât.â
âPerhaps you could send it me, my dear? Itâs a small Gillette, the kind that screws open, I believe they cost around five and elevenpence.â
âIâll see if I can find it,â I said. âOtherwise, of course, weâll buy you a new one.â
âThat would be kind. Itâs a quite indispensable little razor â for getting at the odd corners, you know. Now, Jake, stop mooning about, boy. Give her some more sherry. His manners arenât up to much, but I expect youâve discovered that already.â
âActually,â I said, screwing up my toes, my voice squeaking a little, âActually, I love him.â
âIâm sure you do. So do I.â
We smiled warmly at each other.
âYouâre a brave girl,â he said.
âOh, no. Itâs Jake whoâs ⦠brave.â
âNonsense. Heâs out for what he can get. Beautiful wife who knows how to cook, ready-made family, plenty of furniture. Heâll expect a lot of you.â
I reached for Jakeâs hand. âI donât mind.â
âHeâs been on his own too much. My wife couldnât have any more children, we spoiled him. He doesnât like his shirts sent to the laundry, you know that?â
âGood God,â Jake said. âIâm twenty-nine years old. I am
here
.â
âHe also has a shocking temper. When do you plan to get married?â
âNext month,â I muttered. âWhen the divorce is through.â
âAh, the divorce. Thatâs all going smoothly?â
âI think so. Iâm sorry that Jake â â
âHeâs the co-respondent, of course. âAll experience is an arch wherethroâ gleams that untravelled world â¦â I must say, dear boy, I never thought you had it in you. Well ⦠thatâs everything, I think? We neednât go on with this discussion, need we? How about getting my Scotch?â
âI hope youâll come,â I said. âI mean, weâd like you to be there, if youâd like to come.â
âOh, I donât think so. Thank you, my dear, but I donât think so. I detest trains, and if I get Williams to drive me up we can never park anywhere, and then thereâs the problem of Williamsâs lunch. No, itâs all too tedious. But of course you have my great blessing.â
âAs far as the wedding presentâs concerned,â Jake said, âweâd like a cheque.â His face was a very delicate green and his upper lip was curled under in a petrified flinch.
âA cheque,â the old man said. He became motionless. A shaft of sunlight moved idly over the room, picking out little pieces of