can’t think about getting married for years. Where would we live? Here with my mother?”
And then of course it had come out, the true reason behind it: “I don’t think I should sleep with you if it’s just casual. I don’t think it’s right if we aren’t going steady.”
She nagged him to make her a promise he couldn’t, then wouldn’t, make. Parting from her had been a far greater wrench than he expected, but now it seemed the wisest thing he could have done. Strange to compare, or rather contrast, her with Senta. Driving home, he found himself laughing aloud at the thought of Senta asking to go steady, to get engaged. Her idea of permanency was something Jenny in her mousey little suburban way had never dreamed of: total commitment, utter exclusivity, the perfect unparalleled union of two human beings embarking on life’s adventure.
The return of Fee and her husband served to show Philip something amazing: he had known Senta only a fortnight. Fee and Darren had been absent for two weeks, and when they were last here, Senta was virtually a stranger to him, a girl in an absurd orange-spotted dress who looked at him across a crowded room in certain mysterious ways that he, fool that he was, had been unable to interpret.
Her daily society since then had made him believe, all experience to the contrary, that Darren, being her cousin, must be a far more interesting and clever person than he remembered. He must have been wrong about Darren. Perhaps it was natural to feel no man was really good enough for one’s sister. But now that he was in the company of his new brother-in-law, he realised he hadn’t been mistaken. Thickset and with a fat belly already developing at twenty-four, Darren sat guffawing at some television serial which it seemed imperative for him to see, never to miss, even though he might be in someone else’s house. He had insisted on watching it the two Sundays they were away, Fee said in the proud tone of a mother talking of her baby’s feeding requirements.
Returned home the day before, they had come to tea, though tea as such wasn’t a meal ever eaten in the Glenallan Close household. Christine had supplied one of her culinary masterpieces in the shape of sliced ham sausage and canned spaghetti rings. Afterwards she was going to do Fee’s hair, was childishly delighted because Fee, for once, was permitting this. Philip thought Christine was looking rather nice. There was no doubt she had looked better—younger and somehow happier—since the wedding. It couldn’t be relief at getting the wedding over and Fee married, for she had once or twice suggested—she never did more than suggest—that Fee, at her age, could easily afford to wait a couple of years before settling down. It must be the new friend, having the companionship of someone her own age. She had pink lipstick on, rather well applied and not muzzy at the edges, and had given her hair one of those golden rinses that had hitherto been reserved for clients.
They disappeared to the kitchen. Philip heard his mother compliment Fee on the navy blue jumper she was wearing and say wasn’t it funny to buy a guernsey actually in Guernsey. Fee’s patient explanation that the garment took its name from the island, as jersey did, gave rise to cries of wonderment.
Cheryl, as usual, was out somewhere. Philip was left alone with his brother-in-law. Denied further television, Darren was talkative on the subjects of international sport, the new Fiat, and congestion on the roads, and expansive on his honeymoon location. The cliffs of Guernsey were the highest he had ever seen, they must surely be the highest in the British Isles, he couldn’t begin to estimate their height. And the currents in the Channel were particularly treacherous. He wondered how many swimmers had come to grief through those currents. Philip, who had been abroad on several package tours, thought Darren would be one of those tourists who are always asking the guide
And then of course it had come out, the true reason behind it: “I don’t think I should sleep with you if it’s just casual. I don’t think it’s right if we aren’t going steady.”
She nagged him to make her a promise he couldn’t, then wouldn’t, make. Parting from her had been a far greater wrench than he expected, but now it seemed the wisest thing he could have done. Strange to compare, or rather contrast, her with Senta. Driving home, he found himself laughing aloud at the thought of Senta asking to go steady, to get engaged. Her idea of permanency was something Jenny in her mousey little suburban way had never dreamed of: total commitment, utter exclusivity, the perfect unparalleled union of two human beings embarking on life’s adventure.
The return of Fee and her husband served to show Philip something amazing: he had known Senta only a fortnight. Fee and Darren had been absent for two weeks, and when they were last here, Senta was virtually a stranger to him, a girl in an absurd orange-spotted dress who looked at him across a crowded room in certain mysterious ways that he, fool that he was, had been unable to interpret.
Her daily society since then had made him believe, all experience to the contrary, that Darren, being her cousin, must be a far more interesting and clever person than he remembered. He must have been wrong about Darren. Perhaps it was natural to feel no man was really good enough for one’s sister. But now that he was in the company of his new brother-in-law, he realised he hadn’t been mistaken. Thickset and with a fat belly already developing at twenty-four, Darren sat guffawing at some television serial which it seemed imperative for him to see, never to miss, even though he might be in someone else’s house. He had insisted on watching it the two Sundays they were away, Fee said in the proud tone of a mother talking of her baby’s feeding requirements.
Returned home the day before, they had come to tea, though tea as such wasn’t a meal ever eaten in the Glenallan Close household. Christine had supplied one of her culinary masterpieces in the shape of sliced ham sausage and canned spaghetti rings. Afterwards she was going to do Fee’s hair, was childishly delighted because Fee, for once, was permitting this. Philip thought Christine was looking rather nice. There was no doubt she had looked better—younger and somehow happier—since the wedding. It couldn’t be relief at getting the wedding over and Fee married, for she had once or twice suggested—she never did more than suggest—that Fee, at her age, could easily afford to wait a couple of years before settling down. It must be the new friend, having the companionship of someone her own age. She had pink lipstick on, rather well applied and not muzzy at the edges, and had given her hair one of those golden rinses that had hitherto been reserved for clients.
They disappeared to the kitchen. Philip heard his mother compliment Fee on the navy blue jumper she was wearing and say wasn’t it funny to buy a guernsey actually in Guernsey. Fee’s patient explanation that the garment took its name from the island, as jersey did, gave rise to cries of wonderment.
Cheryl, as usual, was out somewhere. Philip was left alone with his brother-in-law. Denied further television, Darren was talkative on the subjects of international sport, the new Fiat, and congestion on the roads, and expansive on his honeymoon location. The cliffs of Guernsey were the highest he had ever seen, they must surely be the highest in the British Isles, he couldn’t begin to estimate their height. And the currents in the Channel were particularly treacherous. He wondered how many swimmers had come to grief through those currents. Philip, who had been abroad on several package tours, thought Darren would be one of those tourists who are always asking the guide
Similar Books
