My Former Heart. Cressida Connolly
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Название: My Former Heart
Автор: Cressida Connolly
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9780007455706
isbn:
‘I can’t appear at the College bulging! It would be too … I don’t know. Too odd. Conspicuous. I’d just feel funny, being the only one. I’m the only one who’s married as it is. Everyone else goes back to boiled dinners in digs. I’m the only one with a home of my own, who cooks.’ She frowned.
‘I know, darling. Don’t panic. No need to look so cross.’
‘I’m not cross. I don’t feel cross. I only feel torn, you see, because I don’t want to disappoint you.’
‘Speckle, you never disappoint me.’
‘So can we have a baby later, after the summer?’
It never occurred to her that she might experience any difficulty in the getting of a baby: she assumed that all she would have to do was not use the contraceptive device. As it turned out she was right. At Easter they went to stay with Iris for a few days. Birdle, who generally reserved his worst bites for men, had taken a shine to Harry on sight. As soon as Harry came into the room, he shrieked in recognition, although he had not seen him for several months.
‘Stop that racket at once, Birdle,’ Iris snapped. She was not altogether pleased when Birdle liked anyone besides herself. But he continued whistling and squawking. Only when Harry went and stroked the feathers at the back of the bird’s head did he fall quiet. He drooped with pleasure, bowing his head with the uncharacteristic meekness of a spaniel.
They planned to spend a night in the Lake District on their way back to London. The inn was a low building of whitewashed stone, with polished slate floors. But their room was in a flimsily built wing at the back, with narrow twin beds and thin walls. It had a mildewy smell, not altogether unpleasant, like a hymn book. They spent the afternoon walking before coming back to the place for supper. Installed in their room, they could hear a woman’s voice from the next room. The words were muffled but the tone was clear – she was recounting a tale of grievance, which caused her voice to grow shriller every few moments – and every now and again a second voice, a man’s, responded with a single gruff syllable. The thought that these neighbours would be able to hear them as vividly on the other side of the wall struck them as both comic and aphrodisiac. They kissed, suppressing laughter, before landing on one of the beds, clothes half on. They felt as pleased and as naughty as children enjoying a midnight feast. In the scrummage there was no time for Ruth to pad down the landing to the bathroom, with its damp-ruckled linoleum, to install the device.
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