Free With No Crying by Celia Fremlin Page A

especially about Iris, because she’s sort of the boss-lady—insofar as we go in for that sort of thing, which of course we don’t, but you know how it is…”
    “So anyway, the point is, this was her flat originally—Iris’s—and when the Council started to requisition houses all along the street—they wanted to pull them down, you see, and put up high rise blocks, or something, I don’t know exactly, it was before my time—anyway, there were a whole lot of protest marches and things—you know, Environment and all that. And that’s where Tim came in. He was into the campaign in a big way, a lot of the medical students were, and the nurses, too, because it was going to affect the hospital’s catchment area, or something. He was on the committee which advised Iris to sit tight; and it was his idea that she should bring the Squatters in. There’s nothing much theCouncil can do then, you see,—I’m not sure why, but Tim had it all worked out. He moved in himself straight away, he was the first Squatter, so’s he could help Iris stand up to the Council … and actually, in the end, they were quite nice about it, they let everybody stay, and they turned the water back on and everything . We pay them rent now—well, most of us do—and it’s all sort of legal, in some complicated sort of way.
    “Naturally, Iris was pretty grateful—well, she would be, wouldn’t she?—and by the time I got here they seemed well and thoroughly paired off together, she and Tim. There was even talk of them getting married at one point—Iris thought she was pregnant, or something—but luckily nothing came of it. Well, I mean, it would have been ridiculous, wouldn’t it, with Tim not even qualified yet, and Iris years older than he is? I don’t know how she could ever have thought it would come to anything. Anyway, by that time it was all breaking up in any case, because it was around then that Tim…”
    “Don’t believe a word of it! It’s all lies!” Catching his name as he passed along the passage, Tim had paused to peer inquisitively round the partially-open door. Now he began to edge his way in. “If I were you, Miranda,” he advised, “I’d begin as you’ll assuredly have to go on, and don’t believe anything that any of them tells you. They don’t mean to tell lies—well, not exactly—but the trouble with this place is that it suffers from a sort of Collective Unconscious from which everyone—”
    Alison sighed.
    “He’s always like this when anyone new arrives,” she explained to Miranda. “I’ve only to open my mouth and say one single word to them, and he’ll…”
    “It’s not the single words, my dear, it’s the battalions,” Tim retorted. “I’ve been counting the decibels through the wall, and wondering when I should come to Miranda’s rescue. Recollect, Allie dear, that she’s not accustomed to your dulcet tones like we are, you’ll be giving her labour pains!”
    *
    What fun it was here! What easy, happy relationships they all seemed to have with one another! And how ready and willing theyseemed to draw her, too, into the charmed circle of teasing and repartee. It was like being captured by the gravitation of the sun, and drawn into orbit around that mighty source of light and life.
    “Alison’s been telling me about the Squat, and how it started,” Miranda told him eagerly. “It’s been awfully interesting.”
    “Didn’t I tell you?—If she’s managed to make this dump sound interesting, then she must be lying.” He moved further into the room. “How are you, love? Feeling all right this morning? I just wanted to make sure you’re O.K. before I go off.”
    How kind he was! How kind they all were! In the warm, smudged sunlight that filtered through the grimy little window, he looked, she thought, even handsomer than he had last night.
    “I’m fine. Just fine,” Miranda assured him truthfully; and was aware of his eyes resting thoughtfully on her as she lay reclining