Free A Summer Bird-Cage by Margaret Drabble

that I really would have to get a job. Even Louise had gone into advertising. Although since that meeting in May I don’t think she had worked at all.
    The next day I had a letter from Gill. She said that if I was thinking of going to live in London, why didn’t we look for a flat together.
     
    The next day I broached the subject to my mother. Our discussion went along these well-oiled grooves.
     
    ME : Mummy, I’ve been thinking, I think I might go to London at the end of the week.
    MAMA : [Pause] Oh yes?
    ME : Yes, a friend of mine wants someone to share a flat and I thought it would be a good opportunity for me to . . . 
    MAMA : Well, that sounds a very good idea. Where exactly is this flat?
    ME : Well, we haven’t exactly got one, but I thought I might go and look—it’s easier if you’re on the spot.
    MAMA : Oh yes, I’m sure it is. I hear it’s very difficult to find flats in London these days. me [my heart sinking as I think of adverts, agencies,
Evening Standard
s,
etcetera
]: Oh no, it’s not at all difficult, people get themselves fixed up in no time.
    MAMA : Oh well, I suppose you know better than me. What will you live on while you’re there?
    ME : I’ll get a job. I’ll have to sometime, you know. I’ll write to the appointments board.
    MAMA : Just any sort of job?
    ME : Whatever there is.
    MAMA : Don’t you want a proper
career
, Sarah? I mean to say, with a degree like yours . . . 
    ME : No, not really, I don’t know what I want to do.
    MAMA : I’m not sure I like the idea of your going off all the way to London without a proper job and with nowhere to live . . . still, it’s your own life, I suppose. That’s what I say. No one can accuse me of trying to keep you at home, either of you . . . Who is this friend of yours?
    ME : A girl called Gill Slater. She was at Oxford. She was here at the wedding, she knows Louise.
    MAMA : Oh yes, the girl in grey with all the long hair . . . I thought she was married?
    ME : Married? Oh no.
    MAMA : I’m sure I addressed the invitation to a Mr and Mrs Antony Slater.
    ME : Oh
Antony
. That’s her brother. Perhaps Louise put them on the list as Antony and Gill Slater, did she?
    MAMA : Yes, that must have been it. How silly of me. They must have been surprised. And they did reply separately, I remember now—oh well, it’s too late to worry. And what does she do?
    ME : Oh, she’s a—she’s a sort of research student.
    MAMA : Oh yes? Well, it sounds like a very nice idea. After all, you won’t want to stay here all your life cooped up with your poor old mother, will you? I shall lose all my little ones at one fell swoop, shall I?
    ME : Oh don’t be silly.
    MAMA : What do you mean, don’t be silly? It seems to me you’re very eager to be off.
    ME : You know that’s not it at all.
    MAMA : Well, what is it then?
    ME : Well, it’s just that I can’t stay here all my life, can I?
    MAMA : No, of course you can’t, nobody ever suggested anything of the sort. When have I ever tried to keep you at home? Haven’t I just said that you must lead your own life? After all, that’s why we sent you off to Oxford, it was always me who said you two must go—I don’t know what I wouldn’t have given for the opportunities you’ve been given. And your father wasn’t any too keen, believe me. In my day education was kept for the boys, you know.
    ME : Well, you hadn’t any boys to educate, had you? You had to make do with us.
    MAMA : And what thanks do I get? And you can’t say that staying at home for a week just after you’ve got back from abroad is staying at home
all your life
, can you? I’ve hardly had a chance to see you yet, and you’re off. I sometimes wonder what you and Louise bother to come home for . . . Oh, it’s all very well when you want something, like a bed or a reception, but as for staying here for me, it never crosses your minds, does it?
    ME : Honestly, Mama, you know you always used to get furious when Louise