Doris Lessing - The Sweetest Dream

This half hour, which could have been agreeable, was spoiled by the worry over Andrew, who came in briefly to say that he had ordered a taxi for them. They must forgive him. From the way the others looked at him, surprised, the women could see that they were not used to debonair Andrew in disorder. In the street, he kissed them, a hug for Julia, a hug for Frances. He held the door of the taxi for them but he was not thinking about them. At once he went running back up the stairs.

'I wonder if these young ones know how fortunate they are?’ said Julia.

'Certainly much luckier than either of us.'

' Poor Frances, you didn't have much chance of running about the world. '

' Then poor Julia, too. '

Feeling kindly towards each other, they finished their journey in silence.

' It won't happen, Frances, ' was Julia's last word.

‘No, I know it won't. '

' So we mustn't lie awake all night worrying about it. '

Sitting by herself in the kitchen at the table which was half the size, these days, Frances drank tea, and hoped that Colin might drop in. Sylvia hardly ever did. No longer a junior, but a proper doctor, she did not instantly fall asleep as she sat down, but she worked very hard, and the room on the landing across from Frances's room scarcely saw her. She might come for a bath and a change of clothes, or sometimes for the night, she might or might not run up to embrace Julia, but that was it. So it was Colin of all 'the kids' Frances saw these days.

She knew nothing about his life outside this house. One day a disreputable fellow with a big black mongrel dog rang the bell and enquired for Colin, who came running down to make an arrangement to meet on the Heath. At once Frances began worrying, was Colin a homosexual, then? Unlikely, surely? – but she was already at work on honing the appropriately correct attitudes, if he was, when a wan girl appeared, and then another, only to be told that he was out. But if he is not here, then why isn't he with me? – Frances knew they were thinking, because she would be, in their place. These incidents were hints at Colin's life. He roamed the Heath at all hours with Vicious, talked to people on benches, made friends with other dog-owners, sometimes went to a pub. Julia who had said to him, 'Colin, it is not healthy for a young man to have no sex life,' had been rebuked with, 'But, Grandmother, I have a dark and dangerous secret life, full of mad romantic encounters, so please don't worry about me. '

Tonight he came in, as always with the little dog, saw Frances, and said, ‘I’ll make myself a cup. ' The dog jumped up on the table.

‘Do get that little nuisance down. '

‘Oh, Vicious, did you hear that?' He picked up the dog, and took it to a chair, told it to stay, and it did, wagging its tail and watching them with black inquisitive eyes.

‘I know you want to talk about Andrew, ' he said, sitting down with his tea.

‘Of course. It would be a disaster. '

' Can't have disasters in this family. ' His smile informed his mother that he was in combat mood. She braced herself, thinking that she could say anything at all to Andrew, but with Colin there was always an apprehensive moment while she waited to find out what mood he was in. She almost said, ' Forget it – another time' – but he was going on. ' Julia's been at me too. What do you expect me to do? Say, Do not be foolish, Andrew, do not be reckless, Sophie? The point is, she needs Andrew to get free of Roland.'

Here he waited, smiling. He was now a large bulky man, with curly black hair, and black-rimmed spectacles that gave him a studious air. He was always ready to go on the attack, because for one thing he was still partly dependent financially. Julia had said to Frances, ' Better for me to give him an allowance than you – psychologically better.' She was right, but it was his mother he took it out on. Frances waited too. Battle was about to commence.

'If you want a crystal ball, then you should consult dear Phyllida downstairs, but using my vast knowledge of human nature – the TLS says I have it – then I'd say she will stay with Andrew just long enough to let Roland cool off, and then she'll leave Andrew for someone else.'

' Poor Andrew. '

' Poor Sophie. Well, she's a masochist. You should understand that.'

‘Is that what I am?'

‘You do have a certain talent for long-suffering, wouldn't you agree?'

‘Not now. Not for a long time now.'

He hesitated. This scene might have ended there, but he leaped up, put another teabag in his cup, poured on water that was not boiling, saw his error, fished out the teabag and threw it into the sink, swore, picked it out to drop it into the rubbish bin, caused the kettle to boil, chose another teabag, poured on boiling water – all this in clumsy haste that told Frances that he was not enjoying this encounter. He came back, he put down his cup. He got up and gave the little dog a hasty stroke, and sat down.

' It's not personal, ' he said. ‘But I've been thinking. It's your generation. It's all of you.'

‘Ah,’ said Frances, relieved that they had chosen the familiar ground of abstract principles.

' Saving the world. Paradise on every new agenda. '

‘You are confusing me with your father. ' Then she decided to go on the attack herself. ‘I do get fed up with this. I am always implicated in Johnny's crimes. ' She contemplated the word. ‘Yes, crimes. You could call them that by now. '

‘When could we not have called them that? And do you know what? I actually read in The Times that he said, Yes, mistakes have been made. '

‘Yes. But I did not commit the crimes, nor condone them. ' ‘No, but you' re a world saver, all the same. Just like him. The whole lot of you. What conceit you all have. Do you know that?

You must be the most conceited hubristic generation there has ever been.' He smiled still: he was enjoying this attack, but was feeling guilty too. 'Johnny for ever making speeches and you filling the house with waifs and strays.'

Ah, now they were at the nub of it. She said, ‘I’m sorry, but I don't see what that has got to do with it. I don't remember him ever helping anybody. '

' Helping? Is that what you call it. Well, his place is full all the time of Americans dodging the draft – not that I've got anything against that – and comrades from everywhere.'

' It's not the same thing. '

' Has it ever occurred to you to ask yourself, what would have happened to them if you hadn't taken in Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all?'

' One of them was your Sophie. '

' She never actually moved in. '

' She was practically living here. And how about Franklin? He was here for over a year. He was your friend. '

‘And that bloody Geoffrey. I had him day and night at school and then all the holidays here, for years and years. '

‘But I never knew you disliked him so much. Why didn't you say? Why don't children ever say when they' re unhappy about something. '

' There you are – you didn't even have enough insight to see it.'

‘Oh, Colin. And you' re going to say we shouldn't have let Sylvia stay here. '

‘I’d never say that. '

‘You may not now but you certainly used to. You've made my life a misery with your complaints. Anyway, I'm fed up with this. It's a long time ago. '

' The results are not a long time ago. Did you know that little bitch Rose is going around saying that Julia is a lush and you are a nymphomaniac?'

Frances laughed. It was angry, but genuine. Colin hated that laugh: his stare at her was all miserable accusation. 'Colin, if you only knew what a chaste life I'd led...’But now, summoning the spirit of these times, she said, ‘And anyway, if I had a new man every weekend, it was my right, why not? You' d have no right to say a bloody word. '