Free Still Waters by John Harvey Page B

of table, sanded boards, an orange arc of wall.
    â€œDo you want to phone Alex?” Hannah said. “Tell him where you are.”
    â€œNo, I don’t think so. Thanks.”
    â€œWe had this row, earlier. Before I went out. Alex had come home and I’d not been there. I mean, he was back sooner than I’d thought, an appointment had been canceled or something, I don’t know, and I’d stopped off in town after school. Just looking round the shops, nothing …” Jane looked across at Hannah and paused. “He’d only been in twenty minutes, half an hour at most.”
    â€œI don’t understand.”
    â€œI wasn’t there. He got angry, upset.”
    â€œBut why? I mean, what does he expect, for heaven’s sake?”
    Shrilly, Jane laughed.
    â€œYou to be there at his beck and call? Rush home after school and get his dinner ready for him, warm his slippers by the fire?”
    â€œNo. No, it’s not like that. That’s not what it’s about.”
    â€œWhat then?”
    Jane took her time. “It’s to do with …”
    â€œControl, that’s what it’s to do with.”
    â€œHe wants to know exactly where I am, what I’m doing, all of the time.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œUnreasonable.”
    â€œIt’s the way it is.”
    Hannah sighed. “He’s got to understand, surely, you’ve got a life of your own.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œAccording to Alex, we’re married and that’s that. We don’t have lives of our own.”
    â€œOh, fine …”
    â€œHe says that’s the whole point.”
    â€œIt’s his point. That’s the trouble. His rules, his timetable.”
    â€œHe says it’s the same for him.”
    â€œExcept you don’t start climbing up the wall if he’s twenty minutes late getting home.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œSo he can come and go as he pleases.”
    â€œBut he doesn’t. I always know where he is, what he’s doing, every minute of the day. If he says he’ll be in at five twenty-five, at five twenty-five there he is. So why shouldn’t it be the same with me?”
    â€œCome on, Jane. How many answers do you want? You’re a grown woman doing a difficult job. You’ve got your own friends. Damn it, you married him; it wasn’t an operation joining you both at the hip.”
    â€œLook, Hannah, I know it’s difficult for you to understand …”
    â€œBecause I’m not married, you mean?”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œJane, I’m your friend. Married or not, I can see what’s happening to you, how unhappy you are. I’ve got a right to be concerned.”
    â€œI know. I’m sorry. I am grateful. And I don’t know what I’m doing, sitting here defending him.”
    â€œHabit? Duty?”
    Jane shook her head. “I really don’t know.”
    â€œDo you still love him?”
    â€œI don’t know that either.”
    Hannah leaned close toward her. “Have you thought about leaving him?”
    Jane laughed. “Only all the time.”
    â€œAnd he knows?”
    â€œNot because of anything I’ve said.”
    â€œBut you think he does know?”
    â€œHe suspects, he must do.”
    â€œAnd you think that’s why he’s behaving like this?”
    Jane stepped to the window, leaned forward until her forehead was pressing against the glass. Small bats cavorted outside, splintering the space between the house and the trees. When she turned back into the room, the ghost of her mouth remained, a blur of breath upon the pane.
    â€œIt isn’t only … He’s jealous, that’s part of what this is all about. Just jealous.”
    â€œWhat of?”
    â€œOh,” Jane gestured widely. “Anyone. Men. You. Our neighbor across the street. Anyone. It doesn’t really