The Squire Quartet. Brian Aldiss

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СКАЧАТЬ framed in metal. Generally shots of streets, taken from ingenious angles no one else would have thought of. Never a shot of Laura in the nude, or even dressed. Silly bugger.

      The furniture looked cheap but was expensive, Laura said; it was too low to get out of easily. Laura and Peter quarrelled all the while, she said, excusing a general neglect.

      When he went to pee in the toilet, his eyes came level with a packet of sanitary towels lying on the window sill. The sight of them moved and obscurely hurt him: though on this evening of parting everything brought him close to tears. He thought of her vulnerability. Didn’t vulnerable and vulva derive from the same Latin root? She would have taken care to keep her Tampax out of sight a few months earlier. They were both of them going down the drain – like the Tampaxes, eventually – and he had to remember that she, at twenty-six, felt acutely that youth was passing.

      He returned to the kitchen and his half-eaten pita.

      ‘I’ve really fucked things up for you, my love. It’s as well I’m disappearing at last.’

      ‘You haven’t fucked anything up. I was just a mess till you came along. Your dear steadiness – you have been that way all your life, I can tell. I didn’t need an older man, I needed you.’

      ‘It goes too deep for me to say. I was muffled for so long. With you – no guard possible, no guard needed …’

      ‘We’ve had something so worthwhile together. In that sense, I don’t mind parting, though I’ll hate myself for saying it when you’ve gone … I’ll never forget you, Tom. You’ve changed me, given me so much, so many things …’

      ‘Nothing – nothing compared with what you’ve given me. With you I’ve been aware of the whole world again. You’ve made me whole again …’ A piece of mutton fell to the floor. He kicked it in the direction of the sink.

      ‘You’re such a dear, dear person.’ She reached out and touched his neck. He clutched her wrist, still brown from the summer they had had.

      ‘Don’t be hurt. Grow. Continue. My love and gratitude will always be with you, for whatever that’s worth. Laura, dear Laura …’ He spoke indistinctly, munching the bread.

      ‘We’ve had such travels together, gone so far.’

      ‘I’ll never forget what a weight you were when you fell asleep on me on the plane back from LA.’

      ‘And try not to forget how many miles it is to the River Bug.’ Her lip trembled as she said it.

      ‘Perhaps one day we’ll meet in that little romantic Polish village whose name we remember so well.’

      ‘You mean Molly Naggy?’

      ‘I think it was Lolowsky Molehold.’

      ‘Anyhow, we’ll recognize it by all the dead horses.’ She started to laugh and cry a little.

      He put an arm round her waist. ‘You’re rotten at geography, incredible at everything else.’

      ‘You’ll always be my lovely man.’ She rubbed her face against his jacket. ‘My standard. Let me give you a last cup of coffee. Instant. And there will always be “Frankenstein”… Something worthwhile we did together.’

      ‘And your lovely photograph in the book. I’ll send you a copy before it’s published. Lasciviously inscribed.’

      ‘To hell with Peter. Bring it round in person.’

      ‘I’ll see about that. No, no coffee – I’d better go, my love.’

      ‘My love.’ Her beautiful gaze engaging his.

      ‘Oh, dearest Laura …’ They clung tightly to each other for the last time.

      It was autumn. He felt the chill as he blundered down the garden path, the chill a younger man would not have noticed. He thought, as he went blindly into the street, ‘From now on, there’s only autumn. Then winter. Fifty next birthday. Old age. I was lucky to have a Laura in my life, bloody lucky. Just that short while – not so short, either …

      ‘Well, somehow I’ve done what I said I would, at last. Now I must go back and make amends. The great renunciation … I hope it counts for something …

      ‘Oh, Laura …’

      He unlocked the secret compartment in the nursery cupboard. Only a few treasures there these days. A little framed pencil sketch his father had made of him when he was a child of four, just after Adrian was born. Not very good, when considered dispassionately. A school magazine dating from only a few years back, in which was his son John’s article, then considered both daring and amusing, on why the monarchy should be abolished. A couple of letters from Laura – notes, really. He smelt the envelopes, but enclosure in the cupboard had made them fusty. Two letters dating from last winter from Tess, and a rough copy of his response.

      Grantham

       6th Nov.

      Dear Tom,

      Thanks for your letter. There’s a reason why I have not returned to Pippet Hall as you request.

      I do not have to do as you say. Honestly, what you think or say is not so important to me as it was once. You know that even a worm will turn. You did not keep your promise about leaving that girl at the end of August, did you? Have you really left her as you say, or do you still pine for all the things she gave you …

      I am doing well here. I have my own flat and workplace and my company is now exporting to the USA. You don’t have to feel sorry for me, and the girls are fine. So is Nellie.

      They send love.

      Teresa

      Travellers’ Club

       Pall Mall

       15 November

      My dear Tess,

      Matilda forwarded your letter to me. I’m in London, being unable to tolerate the Hall on my own. I am not, as you may imagine, ‘having fun’ here, although there are one or two old male friends to support me, so I am not utterly desolate. I’ve also seen John on two occasions; he’s much as always.

      I am delighted to hear that your company is flourishing. I’ve encouraged the idea from the start, you may recall. When I asked you to return to Pippet Hall, it was not an order, but a simple hope that you would come back to me. I still have that hope. Do so, and we can convert the barn into a studio for you.

      As I told you in my last letter, I have renounced Laura Nye. That I did as soon as ‘Frankenstein’ was completed, as promised. In fact, on the very day of the farewell party at Claridge’s. I admit to feeling lonely; I need your dear love and comfort. There are two schools of thought about how a wife behaves towards an erring husband, but you must let yourself be guided by your feelings, rather than fashion or friends. May I suggest you don’t treat me according to my deserts but according to your capacity for sweetness.

      Thanks largely to Grahame Ash, the series looks extremely handsome – I think you’ll approve, especially the design side. It is to be shown at 8.10, prime viewing time, every Friday evening, СКАЧАТЬ