Free Devices and Desires by P. D. James Page B

to and fro across the office. He got to his feet and walked over to the window, hearing the angry voice but no longer having to face her, watching the reflection of her pacing figure, the swirling hair. He said again: “What do feelings matter? It’s the work that is important.”
    “They matter to me. And that’s something you’ve never understood, have you? Life is about feeling. Loving is about feeling. It was the same with the abortion. You forced me to have it. Did you ever ask yourself what I felt then, what I needed?”
    Oh God, he thought, not this, not again, not now. He said, still with his back to her: “It’s ridiculous to say that I forced you. How could I? And I thought you felt as I did, that it was impossible for you to have a child.”
    “Oh no it wasn’t. If you’re so bloody keen on accuracy, let’s be accurate about this. It would have been inconvenient, embarrassing, awkward, expensive. But it wasn’t impossible.It still isn’t impossible. And for God’s sake, turn around. Look at me. I’m talking to you. What I’m saying is important.”
    He turned and walked back to the desk. He said calmly: “All right, my phrasing was inaccurate. Have a child by all means, if that’s what you want. I’ll be happy for you as long as you don’t expect me to father it. But what we’re talking about now is Neil Pascoe and PANUP. We’ve gone to a lot of trouble here to promote good relations with the local community and I’m not going to have all that good work vitiated by a totally unnecessary legal action, particularly not now when work will soon begin on the new reactor.”
    “Then try to prevent it. And since we’re talking about public relations, I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned Ryan Blaney and Scudder’s Cottage. My cottage, in case you’ve forgotten. What am I expected to do about that? Hand over my property to him and his kids rent-free in the interests of good public relations?”
    “That’s a different matter. It’s not my concern as Director. But if you want my opinion, I think you’re ill advised to try and force him out simply because you’ve got a legal case. He’s paying the rent regularly, isn’t he? And it isn’t as if you want the cottage.”
    “I do want the cottage. It’s mine. I bought it and now I want to sell it.”
    She slumped back into the chair and he, too, sat. He made himself stare into the eyes in which, to his discomfort, he saw more pain than anger. He said: “Presumably he knows that and he’ll get out when he can, but it won’t be easy. He’s recently widowed and he’s got four children. There’s a certain amount of local feeling about it, I understand.”
    “I’ve no doubt there is, particularly in the Local Hero, where Ryan Blaney spends most of his time and money. I’m not prepared to wait. If we’re moving to London in the nextthree months, there’s not much time to get the question of the cottage settled. I don’t want to leave that kind of unfinished business. I want to get it on the market as soon as possible.”
    He knew that this was the moment when he should have said firmly: “I may be moving to London, but not with you.” But he found it impossible. He told himself that it was late, the end of a busy day, the worst possible time for rational argument. She was already overwrought. One thing at a time. He had tackled her about Pascoe and, although she had reacted much as he’d expected, perhaps she would think it over and do what he advised. And she was right about Ryan Blaney: it was none of his business. The interview had left him with two clear intentions more firmly fixed than ever in his mind. She wasn’t coming to London with him, nor would he recommend her as Administrative Officer at Larksoken. For all her efficiency, her intelligence, her appropriate education, she wasn’t the right person for the job. For a moment it crossed his mind that here was his bargaining card. “I’m not offering you marriage but I am