Walcot. Brian Aldiss

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СКАЧАТЬ Grateful for –’

      She paused, gazing upwards, searching for a word.

      ‘Small mercies?’ you suggested.

      Later in life, you would come greatly to respect your grandmother. Moreover, it grew to be your opinion that Elizabeth was the one scholarly member of the family, apart from Jeremy’s wife, Flo. Your grandmother, in your view and that of others, had not been well treated by her husband Sidney. Sidney had been too busy making money to care properly for his grand wife – or for her intellect.

      Elizabeth had suffered her stroke three years earlier. Her intellect had carried her through. Sonia affected to be scared of the speech impediment. As Sonia happened to be passing, you grabbed her arm and made her say hello to her grandmother.

      ‘Oh, I thought you didn’t want to talk to me, Granny,’ said Sonia, grinning and rocking her body back and forth in an idiotic way.

      ‘Why should I … why not wish … to talk to you, child?’ asked Elizabeth, scrutinizing Sonia with some interest.

      ‘I thought perhaps you did not like hunchbacked children, Granny.’ Sonia made an awful grimace as she said this.

      ‘On the cont … on the contrary. I adore hunchbacks, child. Remind me of your name.’

      ‘Oh,’ Sonia gazed at the floor. ‘I am sister to the adorable Valerie, who was perfect and not hunchbacked. Little Valerie-Wallerie was the world’s most perfect child.’

      You reassured your grandmother, pointing a finger to your temple, working it back and forth as if to drill into your brain. ‘Sonia is a bit touched, Grandma. It runs in the family.’

      Elizabeth made no direct reply to this remark, although she flashed at you something that could have been a smile of understanding. She fished in her handbag, took out a cigarette case and extracted a cigarette. When she had lit it and blown a plume of smoke from her nostrils, she said, not looking at you, but gazing rather into the room, where her relations were milling about, ‘Why are your Uncle Bertie and Auntie Violet not here? Why did they not attend Sidney’s funeral?’

      ‘I’m afraid Mother doesn’t approve of them. Well, at least she doesn’t approve of Auntie Violet. She told Auntie she was not welcome.’

      You did not add that you had asked your mother why she did not want Auntie Violet in the house. To which she had replied, loftily, that she was a good judge of character.

      ‘Violet wears good clothes. Wears well. Them well,’ said Elizabeth, now.

      ‘Yes, but Mum says they are too expensive.’

      The old lady inspected your face. ‘Violet, I recall … Violet criticized your Uncle Jeremy. Jeremy’s of his son, deplorable treatment. Poor Sid. Rightly so, to my mind. It’s as well to speak. Brave to speak, um, out. A necessary adjunct. I say, adjunct of civiliz … our civilization.’

      Lamely, you said, ‘We were all upset about Sad Sid.’

      ‘Suicide. Suicide is … sorry, suicide is always a family … A criticism, I mean to say, of the family.’

      ‘We are a funny family, I must agree,’ said Sonia. ‘Look at their faces! But our sausage rolls are good. May I get you one, Granny?’

      ‘No, thank you. Valerie.’

      ‘No, sorry Granny.’ Sonia vigorously shook her head. ‘I’m Sonia, thanks very much. And I’m alive. Valerie is the one who is not alive.’

      ‘I see.’ Elizabeth spoke gravely, looking into Sonia’s face. ‘And was not Valerie also hunchbacked?’

      ‘Oh, heavens no! Valerie was perfect, Granny. Everyone knows that. That was why she died, so they say. Died of perfection, like Jesus on the Cross. In fact, I believe I saw her at your husband’s graveside.’ She pressed her fingers to her lips. ‘Sorry, shouldn’t have mentioned gravesides.’

      Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully, but she could not restrain a smile. ‘Well then, Sonia, you should go far in life, and get into a lot of trouble on the way.’

      She dismissed the subject. Again the inspection of your face. You liked your grandmother’s intelligence, while finding it alarming at times. Her face still bore traces of a smile.

      ‘I hope you learnt something. Stephen. From Sad Sid’s death. Unlike your cheeky little sister.’

      ‘Valerie?’

      ‘Sonia.’

      ‘I still feel bad about it, Gran.’

      ‘Feeling bad is the same. Is not the same as something. Learning something.’ She changed the subject abruptly. She tapped the end of her cigarette on the rim of a brass ashtray, which was secured in the middle of a weighted leather strap so that it hung comfortably over the arm of the sofa on which she was sitting. ‘But that you know.’

      She murmured the sentence to herself again, perhaps checking to see that she had got it right. ‘But that you know.’

      ‘Why should your mother have a say? Have a say over whether or not one attended? Attended.’ She seemed momentarily to be stuck on the word. ‘If her brothers and his wife attended … attended his father’s funeral? Particularly when Sidney had a special. Special affection for Bertie. If you remember, dear, Bertie in his youth. In his youth, he flew … where?’

      ‘Kabul,’ you said.

      ‘Oh dear, I must go,’ said Sonia. ‘I’ve just remembered something.’ She slipped away, saying, ‘I just want to see if Gyp has died in the greenhouse.’

      ‘Yes. Kabul,’ Elizabeth echoed. She watched Sonia’s retreat with a slight smile. ‘It’s in Africa, I believe.’

      ‘Afghanistan, Granny.’

      ‘Of course. Quite right.’

      You had no answer to her larger question. You knew only that, in the days preceding the funeral, terrible arguments had broken out between your parents. Some weeks earlier, Mary had ventured a few critical remarks regarding Violet to Violet’s husband, Bertie. She told him that Violet was ‘spendthrift’, and had added the damning word ‘gallivanting’. Bertie had become furious, vowing he would not speak to his sister again. Nothing had been said on that occasion about Violet’s criticisms regarding the causes of Sad Sid’s suicide; indeed, the word ‘suicide’ had proved too terrible to utter. In an endeavour to settle the quarrel, Martin had phoned Jack, Mary’s other brother, asking him to intervene. Jack had accused Martin of going behind his sister’s back. So a thunderous family row had developed, about which you knew nothing, walking into frosty silences as into a brick wall. Mary had said, ‘I don’t care who’s died, I won’t have that Violet here, flaunting her new clothes about the place! Neglecting her children! Making eyes at all the men!’ And that ended the matter.

      You felt for your grandmother, that calm and elegant lady. Anxious to detach yourself from your parents’ quarrels, you said to her now, ‘I really like Auntie Violet, Gran. She’s ever so kind, you know.’

      The remark appeared to make no impression on the new widow. In her halting way of speaking, she replied, ‘People should not СКАЧАТЬ