suddenly:
“What fun it would be - let's get a really nice crisp French loaf of bread and have that with butter and one of those cheeses wrapped up in leaves.”
So we did and Ellie I think enjoyed it more than the meal we'd had the night before which had come to about £20. At first I couldn't understand it, then I began to see. The awkward thing was that I could see now that being married to Ellie wasn't just fun and games. You have to do your homework, you have to learn how to go into a restaurant and the sort of things to order and the right tips, and when for some reason you gave more than usual. You have to memorise what you drink with certain foods. I had to do most of it by observation. I couldn't ask Ellie because that was one of the things she wouldn't have understood. She'd have said “But, darling Mike, you can have anything you like. What does it matter if waiters think you ought to have one particular wine with one particular thing?” It wouldn't have mattered to her because she was born to it but it mattered to me because I couldn't do just as I liked. I wasn't simple enough. Clothes too. Ellie was more helpful there, for she could understand better. She just guided me to the right places and told me to let them have their head.
Of course I didn't look right and sound right yet. But that didn't matter much. I'd got the hang of it, enough so that I could pass muster with people like old Lippincott, and shortly, presumably, when Ellie's stepmother and uncles were around, but actually it wasn't going to matter in the future at all. When the house was finished and when we'd moved in, we were going to be far away from everybody. It could be our kingdom. I looked at Greta sitting opposite me. I wondered what she'd really thought of our house. Anyway, it was what I wanted. It satisfied me utterly. I wanted to drive down and go through a private path through the trees which led down to a small cove which would be our own beach which nobody could come to on the land side. It would be a thousand times better, I thought, plunging into the sea there. A thousand times better than a lido spread along a beach with hundreds of bodies lying there. I didn't want all the senseless rich things.
I wanted - there were the words again, my own particular words - I want, I want I could feel all the feeling surging up in me. I wanted a wonderful woman and a wonderful house like nobody else's house and I wanted my wonderful house to be full of wonderful things. Things that belonged to me. Everything would belong to me.
“He's thinking of our house,” said Ellie.
It seemed that she had twice suggested to me that we should go now into the dining-room. I looked at her affectionately.
Later in the day - it was that evening - when we were dressing to go out to dinner, Ellie said a little tentatively,
“Mike, you do - you do like Greta, don't you?”
“Of course I do,” I said.
“I couldn't bear it if you didn't like her.”
“But I do,” I protested. “What makes you think I don't?”
“I'm not quite sure. I think it's the way you hardly look at her even when you're talking to her.”
“Well, I suppose that's because - well, became I feel nervous.”
“Nervous of Greta?”
“Yes, she's a bit awe-inspiring, you know.”
And I told Ellie how I thought Greta looked rather like a Valkyrie.
“Not as stout as an operatic one,” said Ellie and laughed. We both laughed. I said,
“It's all very well for you because you've known her for years. But she is just a bit - well, I mean she's very efficient and practical and sophisticated.” I struggled with a lot of words which didn't seem to be quite the right ones. I said suddenly, “I feel - I feel at a disadvantage with her.”
“Oh Mike!” Ellie was conscience-stricken. “I know we've got a lot of things to talk about. Old jokes and old things that happened and all that. I suppose - yes, I suppose it might make you feel rather shy. But you'll soon get to be
“What fun it would be - let's get a really nice crisp French loaf of bread and have that with butter and one of those cheeses wrapped up in leaves.”
So we did and Ellie I think enjoyed it more than the meal we'd had the night before which had come to about £20. At first I couldn't understand it, then I began to see. The awkward thing was that I could see now that being married to Ellie wasn't just fun and games. You have to do your homework, you have to learn how to go into a restaurant and the sort of things to order and the right tips, and when for some reason you gave more than usual. You have to memorise what you drink with certain foods. I had to do most of it by observation. I couldn't ask Ellie because that was one of the things she wouldn't have understood. She'd have said “But, darling Mike, you can have anything you like. What does it matter if waiters think you ought to have one particular wine with one particular thing?” It wouldn't have mattered to her because she was born to it but it mattered to me because I couldn't do just as I liked. I wasn't simple enough. Clothes too. Ellie was more helpful there, for she could understand better. She just guided me to the right places and told me to let them have their head.
Of course I didn't look right and sound right yet. But that didn't matter much. I'd got the hang of it, enough so that I could pass muster with people like old Lippincott, and shortly, presumably, when Ellie's stepmother and uncles were around, but actually it wasn't going to matter in the future at all. When the house was finished and when we'd moved in, we were going to be far away from everybody. It could be our kingdom. I looked at Greta sitting opposite me. I wondered what she'd really thought of our house. Anyway, it was what I wanted. It satisfied me utterly. I wanted to drive down and go through a private path through the trees which led down to a small cove which would be our own beach which nobody could come to on the land side. It would be a thousand times better, I thought, plunging into the sea there. A thousand times better than a lido spread along a beach with hundreds of bodies lying there. I didn't want all the senseless rich things.
I wanted - there were the words again, my own particular words - I want, I want I could feel all the feeling surging up in me. I wanted a wonderful woman and a wonderful house like nobody else's house and I wanted my wonderful house to be full of wonderful things. Things that belonged to me. Everything would belong to me.
“He's thinking of our house,” said Ellie.
It seemed that she had twice suggested to me that we should go now into the dining-room. I looked at her affectionately.
Later in the day - it was that evening - when we were dressing to go out to dinner, Ellie said a little tentatively,
“Mike, you do - you do like Greta, don't you?”
“Of course I do,” I said.
“I couldn't bear it if you didn't like her.”
“But I do,” I protested. “What makes you think I don't?”
“I'm not quite sure. I think it's the way you hardly look at her even when you're talking to her.”
“Well, I suppose that's because - well, became I feel nervous.”
“Nervous of Greta?”
“Yes, she's a bit awe-inspiring, you know.”
And I told Ellie how I thought Greta looked rather like a Valkyrie.
“Not as stout as an operatic one,” said Ellie and laughed. We both laughed. I said,
“It's all very well for you because you've known her for years. But she is just a bit - well, I mean she's very efficient and practical and sophisticated.” I struggled with a lot of words which didn't seem to be quite the right ones. I said suddenly, “I feel - I feel at a disadvantage with her.”
“Oh Mike!” Ellie was conscience-stricken. “I know we've got a lot of things to talk about. Old jokes and old things that happened and all that. I suppose - yes, I suppose it might make you feel rather shy. But you'll soon get to be
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