Уильям Николсон - Motherland

‘I suppose I have to do something.’

‘It’s quite a chance, Ed,’ his father says. ‘You’d be going in as a full partner without having to invest a penny.’

‘Yes, I suppose I would.’

‘Obviously everything would depend on how you and Hugo hit it off.’

‘I’m sure he’s a decent enough chap.’

‘Well, yes, he is. He went to Harrow. Not the university type, his father tells me. Clever in his way, but a bit inclined to rest on his oars.’

‘Not like me, then.’

He meets his father’s eyes and smiles, and for a brief second they share the secret of how far life falls short of dreams.

‘I’ve no doubts about you, Ed. Once you make up your mind to do something, I know you’ll do it with all your heart.’

‘French wine,’ says Ed. ‘Well, after all, why not?’

Kitty waits until Pamela is well settled for her afternoon nap and then turns to Louisa for advice. She doesn’t expect Louisa to know anything more than herself, but her friend has a knack of seeing the obvious that Kitty has learned to value. She passes on some of what Larry has told her, ending up with what has become for her the simplest expression of her dilemma.

‘Ed thinks I’m good, and sex is bad.’

‘Bloody Catholics,’ says Louisa.

‘No, Ed isn’t a Catholic any more,’ says Kitty. ‘He lost all of that ages ago.’

‘Like hell,’ says Louisa. ‘Honestly! What a heap of nonsense! You’re his wife! What’s bad about it?’

‘I think it’s just something men feel.’

‘It’s that damn Virgin Mary of theirs,’ says Louisa. ‘All the good women have to be virgins, which means they can only do it with whores.’

‘From what Larry said to me,’ Kitty says, ‘it’s such a strong thing for them that it almost frightens them.’

‘Can’t be that strong, darling.’

‘That’s what I don’t understand. If it’s so strong, what’s he doing about it?’

‘Don’t ask.’

‘Oh,’ says Kitty, going red. ‘Do you think so?’

‘I’ll tell you something I’ve never told anyone,’ says Louisa. ‘About five years ago I found out my father has affairs with other women. He visits those houses men go to. A friend told me, Oh yes, your father’s famous for it. I went to my mother to tell me it wasn’t true, but she said, Yes, it’s all true. So then I wanted to know why and she sat me down and she said to me, Darling, do you know the facts of life? I said yes, I thought so. She said, You know how men have seed in them, that makes babies? I said, Yes. She said, Well, there’s a lot of it, and it has to come out at least once a day, and that’s not always convenient for me, so he goes elsewhere.’

‘Louisa!’

‘Yes, I know. Quite an eye-opener, I can tell you.’

‘Once a day!’

‘At least. Some men have to do it three times a day.’

‘I had no idea,’ says Kitty faintly.

‘Once you know, it makes sense of a lot of things.’

‘Doesn’t your mother mind?’

‘Well, yes, I think so. But the funny thing is, they seem to get on really well.’

Kitty ponders in silence.

‘So what am I to do about Ed?’ she says at last. ‘I can’t make him come to me if he doesn’t want to.’

‘Why don’t you go to him?’

‘I wouldn’t know what to say.’

‘Don’t say anything,’ says Louisa. ‘Just do it.’

‘I couldn’t! Suppose he got angry? Suppose it made him think I was … I was …’

‘What? You’re his wife, Kitty.’

‘Yes, but if he doesn’t want me …’

‘Of course he wants you! And anyway, how’s he going to stop himself? Men can’t. Crank the starter handle and they’re off.’

Kitty starts to laugh, and that sets Louisa off laughing.

‘What about George?’

‘Well, no. Obviously not George.’

They both laugh until they have tears in their eyes.

‘Oh, Lord, Louisa!’ says Kitty. ‘What a mess it all is.’

‘Would you mind me giving you a little tip?’ says Louisa.

‘Tell me anything,’ says Kitty. ‘I’m done with blushing.’

‘How long has it been?’

Kitty hangs her head and answers in a low voice.

‘Not since he came home. Not since he went away. Three years.’

‘So if you’re going to go to him, it might be a good idea to go prepared.’

‘Prepared?’

Louisa leaves the West Parlour where they’ve gone for their tête-à-tête and runs upstairs. She returns shortly with a small embroidered drawstring bag, which she gives to Kitty. Inside is a tin of Vaseline.

Ed comes back from town full of brittle nervous energy. When Pamela comes running to greet him he sweeps her up in his arms and tosses her into the air, again and again, until she’s screaming with excitement.

‘Your daddy’s going to get a job!’ he says to her. ‘Your daddy’s going to make money so you can have pretty frocks!’

‘What is this, Ed?’ says Kitty, laughing, watching the flying child anxiously.

‘My father, my esteemed father,’ says Ed, ‘having sacrificed his life to a job in which he has no interest whatsoever, in order to earn enough money to keep us all in the style he believes to be our birthright, has done me the great kindness of finding me a sacrificial job all of my own.’

‘What are you talking about? What job?’

‘I’m to become a partner in a business that imports wine at low prices from France, and sells at high prices in England. Apparently a child of three could do it. Would you like to be a wine importer, Pammy? You could be a partner too.’

‘I can do it!’ squeals the little girl, wriggling in his arms.

‘Is this serious, Ed?’ says Kitty.

‘I have to do something, darling. Would you mind very much?’

‘Not if it’s what you want to do.’

‘Oh, that’s asking too much! I don’t want to do it. But I dare say I’ll get into the way of it. I like wine, and I like France. It’s just the buying and selling that fails to excite me.’

Over dinner more details of the plan emerge. Ed explains about his father’s rich friend, and the rich friend’s son.

‘So you see, I’m to be a species of babysitter. If he has tantrums I’m to give him my VC to play with.’

‘Well, it all sounds grand to me,’ says George. ‘You can help me restock my white burgundy.’

‘You haven’t even met this boy yet,’ says Kitty.

‘My father’s met his father. That’s how this sort of thing’s done, you know. Like an arranged marriage.’

‘Ed, promise me,’ says Kitty, ‘you won’t do this unless it really feels right. I don’t want you sacrificing yourself for us.’

He reaches across the table and takes her hand.

‘Darling Kitty,’ he says, smiling. ‘You mustn’t pay any attention to all the rot I talk. There isn’t any sacrifice. All I care about in the world is you and Pammy.’

That night Kitty goes to bed as usual, but she lies awake until she’s sure that all the rest of the house is asleep. Then she leaves her bedroom and passes softly down the passage to the room where Ed is sleeping. She enters without knocking.

The window curtains are wide open, and the light of a full moon fills the room. The bed is empty. Ed is lying asleep on the floor beside the bed, covered by a sheet and a blanket. He lies on his side, one arm tucked beneath him, the other arm thrown out. He looks peaceful, and beautiful.

Kitty lies down on the floor beside him, making as little sound as possible, and he doesn’t wake. Slowly she moves her body up against his, and still he doesn’t wake. Then he stirs in his sleep, and straightens out his legs, and rolls onto his back.