And yet why? Why him? He had got under her guard, all right. How very extraordinary. The occasion had been extraordinary, who could believe such a thing, if they hadn't seen it? She wouldn't be at all surprised if this Harold was the only person there who had allowed himself to take in what Reuben Sachs had said. A good phrase, take in. You can sit for an hour and a half listening to information that should shoot your precious citadel of faith to fragments, or that doesn't match easily with what is already in your brain, but you don't take it in. You can take a horse to water...
Frances did not sleep well that night, and it was because she was allowing herself to dream like a girl in love.
He telephoned next afternoon, and asked her to go with him for a weekend to a certain little town in Warwickshire, and she said she would, as easily as if she did this often. And she had to wonder again what it was about this man who could turn a key so easily in a door that she had kept shut. He was a solid, smiling, fairish man, whose characteristic look was of cool, humorous assessment. He was, or had been, an official in some educational organisation. A trade union official?
She supposed the usual assortment of kids would arrive for the weekend, and went up to Julia to say that she would like to take the weekend off. Using those words.
Julia seemed to smile a little. Was that a smile? Not an unkind one...'Poor Frances,' she said, surprising her daughter-in-law. 'You live a dull sort of life.'
'Do I?'
I think you do. And the young ones can look after themselves for once. '
And, as Frances went out she heard the low, ' Come back to us, Frances, ' and this surprised her so much she turned, but found that Julia had already picked up her book.
Come back to us... oh, that was perceptive of her, uncomfortably so. For she had been seized with a rebellion against her life, the relentless slog of it, and had wandered into a landscape of feverish dreams, where she would lose herself and never return to Julia's house.
And there were her sons, and that was no joke. Told that their mother would be away that weekend, both reacted as if she had said she was off for a six-month jaunt.
Colin, from school, said on the telephone, Where are you going? Who are you going with?'
'A friend,' said Frances, and there was a suspicious silence.
And Andrew gave her the bleakest smile, which was full of fear, but he certainly did not know that.
She was the stable thing in their lives, always had been, and it was no use saying both were old enough to allow her some freedom. But at what age do such insecurely-based children no longer need a parent to be there, always? This was their mother, taking off for the weekend with a man, and they knew it. If she had ever done anything like it before... but how obedient she had always been to their situation, their needs, as ifshe was making up for Johnny's lacks. 'As if'? she had tried to make up for Johnny.
She supposed the usual assortment of kids would arrive for the weekend, and went up to Julia to say that she would like to take the weekend off. Using those words.
Julia seemed to smile a little. Was that a smile? Not an unkind one...'Poor Frances,' she said, surprising her daughter-in-law. 'You live a dull sort of life.'
'Do I?'
I think you do. And the young ones can look after themselves for once. '
And, as Frances went out she heard the low, ' Come back to us, Frances, ' and this surprised her so much she turned, but found that Julia had already picked up her book.
Come back to us... oh, that was perceptive of her, uncomfortably so. For she had been seized with a rebellion against her life, the relentless slog of it, and had wandered into a landscape of feverish dreams, where she would lose herself and never return to Julia's house.
And there were her sons, and that was no joke. Told that their mother would be away that weekend, both reacted as if she had said she was off for a six-month jaunt.
Colin, from school, said on the telephone, Where are you going? Who are you going with?'
'A friend,' said Frances, and there was a suspicious silence.
And Andrew gave her the bleakest smile, which was full of fear, but he certainly did not know that.
She was the stable thing in their lives, always had been, and it was no use saying both were old enough to allow her some freedom. But at what age do such insecurely-based children no longer need a parent to be there, always? This was their mother, taking off for the weekend with a man, and they knew it. If she had ever done anything like it before... but how obedient she had always been to their situation, their needs, as ifshe was making up for Johnny's lacks. 'As if'? she had tried to make up for Johnny.
On the Saturday Frances crept out of the house knowing that Andrew would be on the look-out, for he was a restless sleeper, and Colin might have decided to wake earlier than his usual mid-morning. She glanced up at the front of the house, dreading to see Andrew's face, Colin's but there were no faces at the windows. It was seven in the morning of a wonderful summer's day, and her spirits, in spite of her guilt, were threatening to shoot her up into an empyrean of irresponsibility, and here he was, her beau, her date, smiling, obviously enjoying what he saw, this blonde woman (she had had her hair done) in her green linen dress, settling herself beside him, and turning to him to share a laugh at this adventure.