poured two hits and drank one off, replenishing it immediately. ‘Drink that. It’s better nude. The vermouth was confusing us.’ Harry drank his and Mamoon refilled his glass. Mamoon said, ‘I know you have a lot of experience in this area.’
‘What area, sir?’
‘Women.’
‘You know more, sir. You were with Peggy for years. I’m studying it.’
‘Harry, please do not omit to point out to the eager reading masses that she was a perfectly nice woman, but no one should have had to marry her. One falls in love, and then learns, for the duration, that one is at the mercy of someone else’s childhood. One will realise, for instance, after a time, that one is actually living in one’s wife’s mother’s armpit. I made a mistake. Perfectly understandable.’
‘How?’
‘I believed sex and work could take the place of love. I have to say, when Peggy died, I was relieved and perhaps a little exhilarated. For a while I didn’t know what to do. Really what I needed was what I have now. A girl, who is knotty – very damn knotty, without doubt – but one who is a man’s woman.’
‘What sort of woman is that?’
‘A woman devoted not to herself, to her children, to a cause or to alcohol, but to the man she idealises, and to his pencil and his genius. And that man, where possible,’ Mamoon sighed, ‘should be me.’
‘You are lucky, sir. Soon to get even luckier.’
‘Why?’
‘Wait until you see your wife tonight.’
‘Has she had a facelift?’ Harry shook his head. ‘More expensive? Tell me, please.’
‘One minute.’ Harry stood at the back door and lit a cigarette. ‘I will tell you.’
That morning Julia had come into Harry’s room, shut the door, and almost cried. Not that she was usually the crying type. When Harry asked her what was wrong, she reported that Liana, having become particularly frantic and anxious in the past few days, had vehemently reminded her that she, Liana, was in charge and that as she had everything and Julia nothing, Julia should watch out. Julia was on notice.
‘Girl, you should be more grateful and better behaved,’ Liana added. ‘Then, insh’allah , perhaps Mamoon and I will help you progress in this tough world.’
Harry learned that there had been an accumulation of hurts: Liana had accused Julia, on an earlier occasion, of having greasy hair and of being slovenly. Exasperated by Liana’s high-handedness, impatience and one more threat of a slap, Julia had thought and thought. She had come up with a plan to get back at Liana without being fired. Not that Harry thought Liana would get rid of her anyway; he knew Liana was not paying Julia for all the time she spent at the house and that Liana was trying to make out that the two of them were ‘friends’.
Julia didn’t see money as the essential thing here. She had found some purpose at last, and had been working to insert herself indispensably into Liana’s life. First thing in the morning she prepared her mistress’s wardrobe by laying out her clothes, crystals and accessories for the day. She ensured Liana’s bathroom was as scrubbed as an operating theatre. Then she drove her, shopped with her, brushed and fed the animals, and put out her vanilla ice cream when she became anxious. Julia was turning Liana into the grand lady Liana had always assumed herself to be, while seeing all. From the other side, Harry had heard Liana say, without embarrassment, that working ‘as experience’ for the couple would ‘look good’ on Julia’s CV, at which Julia smirked. ‘Why do you make that face?’ Liana asked, to which Julia replied, ‘But miss, we don’t have careers down here. Sometimes we have jobs. But not often.’
It was no secret to Harry that Julia prefered Prospects House to her own home. She had first come to the house as a child, when her mother was employed by Peggy. Julia’s brother Scott, who tended to take care of her, was away often, and in the past few months her
Laila Cole
Jeffe Kennedy
Al Lacy
Thomas Bach
Sara Raasch
Vic Ghidalia and Roger Elwood (editors)
Anthony Lewis
Maria Lima
Carolyn LaRoche
Russell Elkins