Joanna Trollope - A Village Affair

'I was going to take you out,' Richard said, 'but then I thought that the moment either of us managed to say something we really wanted to say there'd be a waiter asking if we wanted pepper on our salads. So I went to Self ridges Food Hall and got this.'

Alice looked down at the coffee table in the little sitting room of Richard's flat. On it was a bottle of wine, a plastic envelope of smoked salmon, brown bread and a lemon.

She said, 'Are you going to grill me?'

'Heavens no. Why should I do that?'

'Because you are Martin's father.'

He picked up the bottle of wine and went to find a corkscrew.

'I'm a human being too. I'd have to be a pretty unpleasant one to drag you all the way to London just to tick you off.'

He disappeared for a moment into the tiny kitchen, reappearing with wine glasses.

'You mustn't be defensive.'

Alice threw her head up.

'I don't want to be. But I keep feeling driven into it.'

It had been so lovely in the train, coming up, being nobody. And the Tube had been even better, jammed in with people, all strangers.

'London's a luxury,' Alice said, accepting a glass of wine, 'after Pitcombe.'

'Yes,' he said. 'Yes, it would be.'

He put a hand on her arm and steered her into an armchair.

'Are you hungry?'

'Not terribly.'

'Drink up then. We've got all day.'

'But the office-'

'It can wait.'

'Martin said you had built a wall together-'

'You saw him?'

'Yes,' Alice said. 'At Juliet's. It didn't really work.'

'No,' Richard said. 'It wouldn't have. Poor boy.'

Alice said nothing.

'Poor boy,' Richard said again. 'Poor boy. He's been misinformed, somehow, all his life. He wouldn't begin to understand. He's in a rage of not understanding.'

'I don't blame him,' Alice said. 'I wouldn't have understood either. Before Clodagh.'

'Talk to me,' Richard said. He leaned forward and poured more wine into Alice's glass. Talk to me.'

'No-'

'Yes. I may be one of the few people who can help. I love Martin.' He paused. 'I love you. I think I understand Martin. I would like to understand you.'

'I don't want this,' Alice said. 'I don't want my marriage kindly mended.'

'I don't want to mend it.'

'You don't?'

'No,' Richard said. 'But I want a resolution. For him, for you, for my grandchildren.' He looked at Alice. Talk to me, about Clodagh.'

'I can't-'

'Why not?'

'Because you're a man.'

'Alice,' Richard said, 'I don't think you know very much about men, or you wouldn't say such a thing. Do you trust me?'

She thought.

'I don't know-'

'Pay me the compliment of knowing that I will believe you and probably understand what you tell me.'

Alice got up. She walked round the little room fiddling with things, an ashtray on a sideboard, a marble egg on a wooden stand, a foolish adult toy made of a heap of magnetic paper clips on a black glass base. Then she came back to her chair and sat down.

'What makes it so difficult is that the love between women has always been belittled. Hasn't it? Down the ages. Treated as something at best foolish, like - like a kind of silly harmless hobby.'

She put her wine glass down and picked up the lemon, rolling it in her hands and sniffing it.

'But what I feel - and I may never fall in love again - is that what Clodagh has given me has enriched me. It hasn't impoverished anything about me, hasn't taken anything from me, if you see what I mean. It's grown me up. It's enabled me to love everyone else in my life properly, and as far as I can see only another woman would do for that instructive kind of love because only another woman could see I needed it and could understand about the children and self and the permanent balancing act of motherhood and self. Only another woman,' Alice said firmly, 'could understand and - and supply.'

Richard slid off his chair on to his knees beside the coffee table and began to make competent sandwiches.

'If you want to know,' Alice said, rolling the lemon, 'bed isn't the most significant thing. At least, after the beginning it wasn't. I think sex is more important for Clodagh than for me. If I'm honest. But what I love, what I'm terrified of doing without again, is the life force. A kind of elixir. Do you see?'

He nodded, peeling salmon off cellophane strips.

'You can't imagine how much fun we have. You can't conceive of how differently I see myself, because of her. It's a kind of revelation.'

Richard took the lemon away from her, cut it and began to squeeze the juice on to his sandwiches.

'I was so lonely,' Alice said. 'I don't blame Martin. He didn't know what to do about me, and I didn't know what to do about me either. But Clodagh did. I woke up. When I looked back at getting married and honeymooning and then being married, I think I was simply asleep. I must have been. Twelve years, dawdling about in a kind of half-life.'

Richard put two sandwiches on a plate and balanced it on her knee.

'Eat up.'

Alice looked at the plate, then at him.

'Do I make sense to you?'

'Yes.'

'Can you imagine what I mean?'

'Of course. I've felt something like it. But in my case it was for the opposite sex, rather than my own.'

'Who was it?'

'Cecily, of course,' Richard said.

'Cecily!'

'Yes.'

Alice took an unenthusiastic bite of sandwich.

'You talk,' she said. 'You talk now.'

There was a little pause, then Richard said, with great carefulness, 'If you had had a confident, loving man make love to you, this would never have happened. You'll think that's just common or garden male arrogance. It isn't. There's a world of difference between making love and having sex. I was never able to make love to Cecily as I wished to because her mind was quite closed to me. The summit of her emotional life was Vienna and she would never allow anything to approach it in case it proved only an illusion and the giant, secret romance of her life crumbled to dust.'

He stopped, and rose to fill Alice's glass. She waited, watching him.

'But I could have loved her, if she'd let me. At the risk of sounding incestuous, I could have loved you, because, like Clodagh, I know what you are like and what you like.'

He looked at Alice.

'I'm not jealous of Clodagh. I'm only sorry that you should be put through this hoop for her, socially. I understand exactly what you say about loneliness. I've had a mistress for years - fifteen to be exact - because I'm a tender man and a passionate man and Cecily can't let herself allow me to be either. It doesn't suit her to acknowledge that I like women.'

'Martin-' Alice said.

'Cecily never brought the boys up to like women. She didn't try. They are both afraid of women. I didn't try either. I didn't see until too late. In that respect, I am quite as much to blame as she is.'

Alice reached over to take Richard's hand.

'So sad,' Alice said. 'So sad. You are actually exactly the right man for her.'

He smiled.

'Oh, I know that. I've known that for forty years.'

Alice bent her head.

'Forty years! The things people live with-'

'Sometimes you have to. If you don't at heart want anything else.'

'But a mistress-'

'Would a string of call girls be better?'

Alice looked up.

'You mean-?'

'Yes.'

'Jesus,' Alice said, with Clodagh's intonation.

'I haven't been allowed to make love to Cecily for almost twenty years.'

'But you still-'

'Yes, I still.'

'Wouldn't you like to have stopped? Loving her, I mean-'

'Only very theoretically. And occasionally. Perhaps I'm just immensely pigheaded and won't admit to failure. Perhaps it's love.'

Alice flung herself back in her chair.