Гейл Ханимен - Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine

The special occasion outfit was, I realized, somewhat outmoded now. Lemon was not a colour that suited me particularly well — fine for nightgowns, worn in the privacy of my bedroom, but hardly suitable for a sophisticated gathering. I’d go to the shops tomorrow and purchase something new; I’d be able to wear it again when I was out at a restaurant or at the theatre with my true love, so the money would not be wasted. Feeling happy with this decision, I made my usual pasta con pesto and listened to The Archers . There was a convoluted storyline involving a very unconvincing Glaswegian milkman, and I did not particularly enjoy the episode. I’d washed up and settled down with a book about pineapples. It was surprisingly interesting. I like to read as widely as possible for many reasons, not least in order to broaden my vocabulary to assist with crossword solving. Then the silence was very rudely interrupted.

‘Hello?’ I said, somewhat tentatively.

‘Oh, so it’s “Hello”, is it? “Hello” — that’s all you’ve got to say to me? And where the hell were you last night, lady? Hmm?’ She was playing to the gallery again.

‘Mummy,’ I said. ‘How are you?’ I tried my best to steady myself.

‘Never mind how I am. Where were you?’

‘I’m sorry, Mummy,’ I said, trying to keep my voice even. ‘I was … I was with a friend, visiting another friend in hospital, actually.’

‘Oh, Eleanor,’ she said, her voice oozingly oleaginous, ‘you don’t have friends, darling. Now come on, tell me where you really were, and I want the truth this time. Were you doing something naughty? Tell Mummy, there’s a good girl.’

‘Honestly, Mummy, I was out with Raymond’ — there was a snort — ‘visiting this nice old man in hospital. He fell in the street and we helped him and—’

‘SHUT YOUR LYING LITTLE CAKEHOLE!’ I flinched, dropped the book, picked it up again.

‘You know what happens to liars, don’t you, Eleanor? You remember?’ Her voice was back to sickly sweet. ‘I don’t mind how bad the truth is, but I won’t tolerate lies, Eleanor. You of all people should know that, even after all this time.’

‘Mummy, I’m sorry if you don’t believe me, but it’s true. Raymond and I went to hospital to visit a man we’d helped when he had an accident. It’s true, I swear it!’

‘Really?’ she drawled. ‘Well, that’s just delightful, isn’t it? You can’t be bothered to talk to your own mother, and yet you spend your Wednesday evenings visiting some geriatric, accident-prone stranger? Charming.’

‘Please, Mummy, let’s not fight. How are you? Have you had a good day?’

‘I don’t want to talk about me , Eleanor. I already know all about me . I want to talk about you . How is your project coming along? Any news for Mummy?’

I might have known she’d remember. How much should I tell her? Everything, I supposed.

‘I went to his house, Mummy,’ I said. I heard the click of a lighter and then a long exhaled breath. I could almost smell the smoke from her Sobranie.

‘Oooh,’ she said. ‘Interesting.’ She took in another lungful and expelled it with a sigh. ‘Who’s this “he”?’

‘He’s a musician, Mummy.’ I didn’t want to tell her his name quite yet — there is a power in naming things, and I wasn’t quite ready to cede it to her yet, to hear those precious syllables rolled in her mouth, for her to spit them out again. ‘And he’s handsome and clever and, well, I think he’s the perfect man for me, really. I knew it as soon as I saw him.’

‘That all sounds rather marvellous, darling. And you went to his house, did you? Tell me, what did you find there?’

I sniffed. ‘The thing is, Mummy … I didn’t actually … go inside.’ This wasn’t going to be easy. She liked doing bad things, and I didn’t. It was as simple as that. I spoke quickly, hoping to head off the inevitable criticism. ‘I just wanted to have a quick look, make sure he lived somewhere app … appropriate,’ I said, stumbling over the words in my haste to get them out.

She sighed. ‘And how are you supposed to know whether it’s nice if you didn’t go inside? You always were overcautious and lily-livered, darling,’ she said, sounding bored.

I looked at my hands. The chipped green nails looked so garish in this light.

‘What you have to do, Eleanor,’ she said, ‘is grasp the nettle. Do you know what I mean by that?’

‘I think so,’ I whispered.

‘I’m simply telling you that you mustn’t keep pussyfooting around, Eleanor.’ She sighed. ‘Life is all about taking decisive action, darling. Whatever you want to do, do it — whatever you want to take, grab it. Whatever you want to bring to an end, END IT. And live with the consequences.’

She started to talk quietly, speaking so softly that I could hardly hear her. This, I knew from experience, did not bode well.

‘This man …’ she murmured. ‘This man sounds as if he has some potential, but, like most people, he’ll be weak. That means that you have to be strong, Eleanor. Strength conquers weakness — that’s a simple fact of life, isn’t it?’

‘I suppose so,’ I said sullenly, pulling a face. Childish, I know, but Mummy does tend to bring out the worst in me. The musician was very handsome and very talented. I knew, as soon as I set eyes on him, that we were destined to be together. Fate would see to that. I didn’t need to take any more … decisive action, apart from ensuring that our paths crossed again — once we met properly, the rest was, surely, already written in the stars. I suspected that Mummy wasn’t going to be pleased with this approach, but I was more than accustomed to that. I heard her breathe in, then out, and felt the soft menace through the ether.

‘Don’t you go getting sidetracked, now, Eleanor — don’t go ignoring Mummy, will you? Oh, you think you’re so smart now, don’t you, with your job and your new friends . But you’re not smart, Eleanor. You’re someone who lets people down. Someone who can’t be trusted. Someone who failed. Oh yes, I know exactly what you are. And I know how you’ll end up. Listen, the past isn’t over. The past is a living thing. Those lovely scars of yours — they’re from the past, aren’t they? And yet they still live on your plain little face. Do they still hurt?’

I shook my head, but said nothing.

‘Oh, they do — I know they do. Remember how you got them, Eleanor. Was it worth it? For her ? Oh, there’s room on your other cheek for a bit more hurt, isn’t there? Turn the other cheek for Mummy, Eleanor, there’s a good girl.’

And then there was only silence.

ON THE BUS TO work on Friday, I felt strangely calm. I hadn’t drunk vodka after the chat with Mummy, but only because I didn’t have any, and I didn’t want to go out alone in the dark to buy some. Always alone, always dark. So, instead, I had made a cup of tea and read my book, distracted occasionally by my flashing green fingernails as I turned the pages. I’d had enough of tropical fruit for the time being, and needed something more conducive to matters of the heart. Sense and Sensibility . It’s another one of my favourites: top five, certainly. I love the story of Elinor and Marianne, how it unfolds so carefully. It all ends happily, which is highly unrealistic, but, I must admit, narratively satisfying, and I understand why Ms Austen adhered to the convention. Interestingly, despite my wide-ranging literary tastes, I haven’t come across many heroines called Eleanor, in any of the variant spellings. Perhaps that’s why the name was chosen for me.

After a few, familiar chapters, I went to bed and did not sleep at all. A night without repose, however, seemed to have no ill effects, surprisingly, and I felt bright and alert as the bus made its way through the morning traffic. Perhaps I was one of those people, like the late Baroness Thatcher, who simply did not require sleep? I picked up a copy of the free newspaper that is always discarded on bus seats, and began to flick through it. An orange woman I’d never heard of had got married for the eighth time. A captive panda had apparently ‘reabsorbed’ its own foetus, thereby ending its pregnancy — I looked out of the window for a moment as I tried and failed to understand the reproductive system of the panda — and, on page ten, evidence had been uncovered of the systematic and widespread abuse of underage boys and girls in a series of care homes. The news stories were reported in that order.