José Saramago - Skylight

Her mother continued to whimper:

“How can you say such things? I feel positively ashamed…”

“Oh, yes, I can see that. You only feel ashamed when things are spelled out for you. If you just think them, though, then you’re not ashamed.”

Her mother quickly dried her eyes and said:

“I wasn’t the one who forced you into this way of life. It was your choice!”

“Thank you very much. I fear that, given the turn the conversation is taking, this will be the last time you set foot in my apartment!”

“Which isn’t yours anyway!”

“Thank you again. But regardless of whether it’s mine or not, I’m the one who gives the orders here. And if I say get out, you will.”

“You might need me one day.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t come knocking at your door! I’d rather starve to death than ask you for so much as one cêntimo back of what I’ve given you.”

“Which wasn’t yours either!”

“But which I earned, right? I actually earned that money. I earned it with my body. There has to be some point in having a nice body, even if it’s only to feed you! ”

“I don’t know why I don’t just leave!”

“Shall I tell you why? It’s fear, fear of losing the goose who lays the golden eggs. I’m the goose, the eggs are there in your purse, the nest is this bed and the gander, well, you know who he is, don’t you?”

“Don’t be so coarse!”

“I feel like being coarse today, and sometimes the truth can be very coarse indeed. Everything’s all fine and dandy until we start being coarse, until we start telling the truth!”

“That’s it, I’m leaving!”

“Please do. And don’t come back either, because you might still find me in the mood to tell you a few home truths!”

Her mother rolled and unrolled her knitting, delaying having to get up. Still playing for time, she said:

“Look, you’re not yourself today, dear. It’s your nerves. I didn’t mean to upset you, but you went too far. You two have probably had a bit of a tiff, which is why you’re all on edge, but it’ll pass, you’ll see…”

“You know, it’s like you’re made of rubber. However hard you’re punched, you always bounce back. Can’t you see that I want you to leave?”

“Yes, yes, but I’ll ring you tomorrow to find out how you are. It’ll pass.”

“You’ll be wasting your time.”

“Look, dear…”

“I’ve said what I have to say. Now please leave.”

Her mother gathered her things together, picked up her handbag and prepared to go. Given the way in which the conversation was ending, she had little hope of ever coming back. She tried to soften her daughter’s heart with tears:

“You can’t imagine how upsetting this is for me…”

“Oh, yes I can. What’s upsetting you is the thought of your little allowance being docked. Isn’t that right? Well, all good things come to an end…”

She broke off when she heard the front door open. She got up and went out into the corridor:

“Who is it? Oh, it’s you, Paulino! I wasn’t expecting you today…”

Paulino came in. He was wearing a raincoat and didn’t bother to remove his hat. When he saw Lídia’s mother, he cried:

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m—”

“Get out!”

He almost shouted these words. Lídia intervened:

“Whatever’s gotten into you, Paulino? You’re not yourself. What’s wrong?”

Paulino glared at her:

“What do you think?” He turned around again and bawled: “Are you still here? Didn’t I tell you to leave? No, wait, now you’ll find out what a sweet little thing your daughter is. Sit down!”

Lídia’s mother fell back onto her chair.

“And you can sit down too!” Paulino said to Lídia.

“I’m not used to being spoken to in that tone. I don’t want to sit down.”

“Do as you please, then.”

He removed his hat and coat and threw them on the bed. Then he turned to Lídia’s mother and said:

“You’re a witness to the way I’ve always treated your daughter…”

“Yes, Senhor Morais.”

Lídia broke in:

“So is this a matter for me or for my mother?”

Paulino wheeled around as if he’d been bitten by something. He took two steps toward Lídia, expecting her to draw back, but she didn’t. Paulino took a letter from his pocket and held it out to her:

“Here’s the proof that you’ve been cheating on me!”

“You’re mad!”

Paulino clutched his head:

“Mad? Mad? You have the nerve to call me mad? Read it, read what it says!”

Lídia opened the letter and read it in silence. Her face remained utterly impassive. When she reached the end, she asked:

“And you believe what it says in this letter, do you?”

“Do I believe it? Of course I do!”

“So what are you waiting for?”

Paulino stared at her, uncomprehending. He found Lídia’s coolness disconcerting. Mechanically, he folded the letter and put it away. Lídia was looking him straight in the eye. Embarrassed, he turned to her mother, who was watching, mouth wide in amazement:

“Your daughter has been unfaithful to me with a neighbor, the young man who lodges with the cobbler and his wife, a mere boy!”

“Oh, Lídia, how could you?” exclaimed her mother, horrified.

Lídia sat down on the sofa, crossed her legs, took out a cigarette and put it between her lips. Out of sheer habit, Paulino offered her a light.

“Thank you,” she said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I don’t know what you’re both waiting for. Paulino, you say you believe what’s in that letter, and you, my mother, find me accused of having an affair with a young man who, I imagine, hasn’t a cêntimo to his name. So why don’t you both just leave?”

Paulino went over to her and spoke more calmly:

“Tell me if it’s true or not.”

“I have nothing further to add.”

“It’s true, then, it must be! If it wasn’t, you would protest your innocence and—”

“If you really want to know what I think, I’ll tell you. That letter is just an excuse.”

“An excuse for what?”

“You know as well as I do.”

“Are you suggesting that I wrote it?”

“Some people will do anything to get what they want…”

“That’s an out-and-out lie!” roared Paulino. “I would never do such a thing!”

“Possibly…”

“Don’t push me too far!”

Lídia stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and got to her feet, trembling with rage:

“You burst in here like some kind of savage, make some ridiculous accusation and expect me not to react?”

“So it’s not true, then?”

“Do you honestly expect me to answer that? It’s up to you whether you choose to believe what the letter says rather than believe me, but you’ve already said that you believe the letter, so what are you waiting for?” She gave a sudden laugh and added: “Men who think they’ve been deceived usually either kill the woman or leave. Or pretend they know nothing. What are you going to do?”

Paulino slumped down on the sofa, defeated:

“Just tell me it’s a lie…”

“I’ve said what I had to say. I only hope you don’t take too long to come to a decision.”

“You’re making things very awkward for me…”

Lídia turned her back on him and went to the window. Her mother followed her and whispered:

“Why don’t you tell him it’s a lie? He’d feel better then…”

“Leave me alone!”

Her mother sat down again, gazing at Paulino with a commiserating look on her face. Paulino, still sitting hunched on the sofa, was beating his head with his fists, unable to find a way out of the labyrinth into which he had been plunged. He had received the letter after lunch and almost had a heart attack when he read it. The letter was unsigned. It gave no indication of where the illicit meetings took place — which meant he had no chance of catching Lídia in flagrante — but it did go into long, detailed descriptions and urged Paulino to be a man. When he reread it (shut up in his office so as not to be disturbed), it occurred to him that the letter had its good side. He was still intoxicated by Maria Cláudia’s freshness and youth. He was always finding pretexts to call her into the office, and this was already setting tongues wagging among the other employees. Like any self-respecting employer, he had a trusted employee who kept him informed of everything that was said and done in the company. Paulino, however, had gone on to provoke still more gossip by redoubling his attentions to Maria Cláudia. The letter could not have come at a better time. A violent scene, a few insults, and goodbye, I’m off to pastures new! There were, of course, obstacles in his path: Maria Cláudia’s age, her parents… He had considered keeping both irons in the fire, so to speak: continuing his relationship with Lídia, who was, after all, a very tasty morsel, and wooing Claudinha, who promised to be an even more tasty morsel. But that was before he had received the letter. It was a formal accusation and called upon him to be a man and take a stand. The worst thing was that he wasn’t entirely sure about Claudinha and feared losing Lídia. He had neither the time nor the inclination to find another mistress. But what to do about the letter? Lídia was cheating on him with some poor wretch obliged to live in rented rooms: that was the worst possible insult, a slur on his manhood. Young woman, old man, young lover. He could not possibly let such an insult pass. He called Claudinha into his office and spent the whole afternoon talking to her, without, of course, mentioning the letter. He very carefully tested the waters and was quite pleased with the result. When she left, he reread the letter and decided to take whatever radical steps the case demanded. Hence the present scene.