St. Urbain's Horseman by Mordecai Richler

I’ll phone in the morning, Harry.”
    â€œDon’t worry. I’m not doing a bunk.”
    â€œI am not worried. I will phone to see how you are.”
    â€œHe’s ever so thoughtful,” Ruthy said.

14
    I T WAS DARK WHEN MRS. HERSH WAKENED TO THE sound of clinking glasses and their heightened voices.
    â€œJake, I never bug you about your drinking, but please don’t pour yourself another one.”
    â€œIn spite of everything I’m doing, Harry thinks he’s being sold down the river. He thinks his lawyer is working for my interests. Christ Almighty, how could I ever get us into this mess?”
    â€œYes. Why did you do it, Jake?”
    â€œDo what? What did I do? You think I laid into her with that riding crop?”
    â€œNo. Certainly not.”
    â€œDoes it excite you? Should we try it?”
    â€œGo to hell.”
    â€œI’m not being vicious. Honestly, when I listen to some of the testimony in court, I actually get a hard-on. I think, jeez, that sounds like it was fun. Wish I’d been there. But I was there and it was not like that at all.”
    â€œI believe you, Jake. For the umpteenth time, I believe you.”
    â€œWhere’s my ever-loving mum?” he demanded, his drink spilling over. “Why do you keep her from me?”
    â€œI told you she’s lying down.”
    â€œHarry will crack if they send him to prison again. He can’t stand it. It would be the end of him.”
    â€œBut you’re looking forward to it. It would be an adventure.”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter. Who cares? You, me. It doesn’t matter. You know what’s important to me? Really, really important to me? Dr. Samuel Johnson. I keep wondering, if I had lived in his time, would he have liked me? Would Dr. Johnson have invited me to sit at his table? Luke’s back, you know.”
    â€œIs he?”
    â€œIt’s in the
Standard
. Not the court page, but Londoner’s Diary. His arrivals and departures are news. He’s a big talent, our Luke.”
    â€œPlease don’t drink any more.”
    â€œHow are the kids?”
    â€œThey’re all right. I’ll make you an omelette.”
    â€œNancy,” he said, reaching out for her.
    â€œYes?”
    But starting for the kitchen together, they ran into Mrs. Hersh.
    â€œHullo, Maw.
A guten shabus
. You know my mother used to light candles on Friday night? Every Friday night, when I was a kid, she lit the candles.”
    Mrs. Hersh glowed.
    â€œDid you remember to take your pills today?”
    â€œI was a good girl.”
    â€œNancy’s eyes are red. Your eyes are puffy. There’s nothing to worry about, honestly. It’s in the bag. Once this is over, I’ll probably sue for false arrest.”
    â€œYour mother and I had words.”
    â€œIt was nothing. A little misunderstanding. Let’s not upset Jake.”
    â€œWhy not upset Jake? I met Luke for drinks today. I broke down, he drove me home, and your mother saw him kiss me outside. She thinks we’re having an affair and that’s why I asked her not to tell you.”
    â€œI didn’t say a word, so help me God.”
    â€œWould you please explain to her that you are jealous of Luke not because of anything between us, but because he’s so successful.”
    â€œHey, hey. I’m not on trial here. I’m on trial there.”
    â€œOh, why don’t the two of you sit in the kitchen without me,” Nancy cried, fleeing, “and eat something
parve
together?”
    â€œWhat?” Jake called after her, baffled.
    He found her lying on the bed, sobbing, and sat down beside her and stroked her hair. “Nelson Eddy’s dead. It was in the
Herald-Trib
today.”
    Once her tears had abated, he held a glass of cool milk to her lips.
    â€œI don’t bully old ladies,” she cried, beginning to heave again. “Or say – or say ‘fuck’ to them – or