she would. ‘I usually go out with Mother.’
‘But if you got used to me,’ urged Lewis. ‘If you got to trust me and if I didn’t leave you alone, wouldn’t that be all right? It doesn’t have to be tomorrow,’ he added, seeing that he was committed to this thing, and backing down slightly now that the opportunity presented itself. ‘I could try walking you home from the library, to begin with. Wouldn’t that be the thing? And when you got used to me we could try something else. What do you say?’
Tissy looked instinctively to her mother. ‘Up to you,Tissy,’ said Mrs Harper. She was nothing if not impartial, Lewis thought.
‘What do you think, Doctor?’ Lewis asked. Dragging himself forward in his chair the doctor seized Tissy’s wrist, a gesture which surprised Lewis until he saw that it was made in order to feel the girl’s pulse. The man’s movements were undisciplined, awkward, yet it was cunning of him to feel Tissy’s pulse at that particular moment.
‘Can’t do any harm,’ he said. ‘Give it a try.’ He exchanged looks with Mrs Harper, then put his feet up, discarded the
New Statesman
from a small table at his side, picked up
Woman’s Own
, and immersed himself in an article on how to brighten up the bathroom with a really stunning blind, special offer, see coupon on page 49. All this Lewis could see over the doctor’s shoulder, since the doctor had moved centre stage and tended to ignore him. Once again he felt ousted from what should have been his natural position.
‘More tea, Ralph?’ asked Mrs Harper. He held out his cup without relinquishing his magazine, and when it was placed once again in his waiting hand took a deep and audible draught.
‘Well,’ said Lewis, a little stiffly now. ‘I must be going. Nice to have met you, Dr Jago. Goodbye again, Mrs Harper. Tissy, I’ll …’
‘And what does Mr Percy do with himself?’ asked the doctor,
Woman’s Own
now folded back on a column of make-up tips for the over fifties.
‘I’m just finishing my Ph.D. thesis,’ he said eagerly. ‘I should get my degree very shortly.’
‘And what will you do then?’ murmured the doctor, the crumbs of an iced biscuit nestling in a womanish cleft in his chin.
‘I don’t know. Get a job, I suppose. I really haven’t thought that far ahead.’
‘And what will you live on?’ pursued the doctor, taking another biscuit.
‘I don’t know,’ said Lewis. ‘But my father left me somemoney. Quite a lot, in fact.’ For he thought £20,000 a great deal of money, more than he could ever earn. And he had so few needs that it was bound to last a very long time. Having delivered this information, which appeared to fall on deaf ears, there seemed to him to be nothing more to say.
When he finally made his escape from the house, which he found inordinately difficult, although no one made the slightest effort to detain him – indeed their indifference as to whether he came or went seemed a positive obstacle to his doing either – he raced down the street, taking enlivening gulps of fresh air. The impression of having been among aliens was hard to dislodge. He had never encountered such obliquity. And yet Tissy had smiled at him, and had, finally, when he reached the door, put her hand in his. This cheered him slightly, although he reflected that the gesture was minimal. He had the impression that the afternoon had been immensely difficult, not what he had hoped at all. But, he thought sadly, he had been too eager, too needy; this was always an unfortunate tactic. And he had made it too easy for them to behave badly. For he thought that they had behaved badly, even very badly. Perhaps they were naturally deficient in courtesy, as some people are born colour blind or tone deaf. And they had told him nothing about themselves. The mystery of Tissy’s disability remained unsolved, nor were there any clues as to how it might be cured or what had induced it; at the same time it seemed to cause
‘But if you got used to me,’ urged Lewis. ‘If you got to trust me and if I didn’t leave you alone, wouldn’t that be all right? It doesn’t have to be tomorrow,’ he added, seeing that he was committed to this thing, and backing down slightly now that the opportunity presented itself. ‘I could try walking you home from the library, to begin with. Wouldn’t that be the thing? And when you got used to me we could try something else. What do you say?’
Tissy looked instinctively to her mother. ‘Up to you,Tissy,’ said Mrs Harper. She was nothing if not impartial, Lewis thought.
‘What do you think, Doctor?’ Lewis asked. Dragging himself forward in his chair the doctor seized Tissy’s wrist, a gesture which surprised Lewis until he saw that it was made in order to feel the girl’s pulse. The man’s movements were undisciplined, awkward, yet it was cunning of him to feel Tissy’s pulse at that particular moment.
‘Can’t do any harm,’ he said. ‘Give it a try.’ He exchanged looks with Mrs Harper, then put his feet up, discarded the
New Statesman
from a small table at his side, picked up
Woman’s Own
, and immersed himself in an article on how to brighten up the bathroom with a really stunning blind, special offer, see coupon on page 49. All this Lewis could see over the doctor’s shoulder, since the doctor had moved centre stage and tended to ignore him. Once again he felt ousted from what should have been his natural position.
‘More tea, Ralph?’ asked Mrs Harper. He held out his cup without relinquishing his magazine, and when it was placed once again in his waiting hand took a deep and audible draught.
‘Well,’ said Lewis, a little stiffly now. ‘I must be going. Nice to have met you, Dr Jago. Goodbye again, Mrs Harper. Tissy, I’ll …’
‘And what does Mr Percy do with himself?’ asked the doctor,
Woman’s Own
now folded back on a column of make-up tips for the over fifties.
‘I’m just finishing my Ph.D. thesis,’ he said eagerly. ‘I should get my degree very shortly.’
‘And what will you do then?’ murmured the doctor, the crumbs of an iced biscuit nestling in a womanish cleft in his chin.
‘I don’t know. Get a job, I suppose. I really haven’t thought that far ahead.’
‘And what will you live on?’ pursued the doctor, taking another biscuit.
‘I don’t know,’ said Lewis. ‘But my father left me somemoney. Quite a lot, in fact.’ For he thought £20,000 a great deal of money, more than he could ever earn. And he had so few needs that it was bound to last a very long time. Having delivered this information, which appeared to fall on deaf ears, there seemed to him to be nothing more to say.
When he finally made his escape from the house, which he found inordinately difficult, although no one made the slightest effort to detain him – indeed their indifference as to whether he came or went seemed a positive obstacle to his doing either – he raced down the street, taking enlivening gulps of fresh air. The impression of having been among aliens was hard to dislodge. He had never encountered such obliquity. And yet Tissy had smiled at him, and had, finally, when he reached the door, put her hand in his. This cheered him slightly, although he reflected that the gesture was minimal. He had the impression that the afternoon had been immensely difficult, not what he had hoped at all. But, he thought sadly, he had been too eager, too needy; this was always an unfortunate tactic. And he had made it too easy for them to behave badly. For he thought that they had behaved badly, even very badly. Perhaps they were naturally deficient in courtesy, as some people are born colour blind or tone deaf. And they had told him nothing about themselves. The mystery of Tissy’s disability remained unsolved, nor were there any clues as to how it might be cured or what had induced it; at the same time it seemed to cause
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