Free Providence by Anita Brookner Page A

frequent topic of conversation.) ‘And she told me I was looking for another flat but that I didn’t need to bother because I was going to meet this man beginning with J. In the entertainment business.’
    ‘All right,’ said Kitty grimly. ‘I’ll come with you.’
    Caroline’s face lit up. She was easily pleased and just as easily disappointed.
    ‘We’ll go next week,’ she promised. ‘You’ll see. Everything will come out right.’
    ‘I hope so,’ said Kitty. The sudden silence informed her that the radio had gone off the air for the night. It must be quite late. She did not have the heart to speak to Caroline again about the noise. She knew it would make no difference anyway.
    Trudging back across the landing to her own flat, she was aware that she was very tired. The evening now appeared to her in retrospect as completely unreal. Had she really heard what she had heard? Could she, she thought disgustedly, compare her visit to a fortune teller with Maurice’s profound convictions? And yet she was disturbed, moved, but moved for herself as well. I must do something, she thought. We cannot go on as we are. If we do I cannot bear it.
    As she lay in bed it occurred to her to turn to Marie-Thérèse’s Bible and to seek out the passage that had originally comforted her. But she felt unworthy, not a believer. Maurice had talked about Providence. She was a determinist, herself. But she would give it a try, she thought wearily. Are You there she wondered, in the silence. And if so, will You let me hear from You?

SIX
    For the visit to the clairvoyant Caroline wore violet trousers, a blue silk shirt, and several chains round her neck. Dressing the part, thought Kitty, watching her twine a blue trailing scarf round her hair. And she’s not even coming in.
    ‘Isn’t this fun, Kitty?’ enthused Caroline, discarding the blue scarf for a green one, and then discarding that. Kitty sank resignedly into a chair.
    Her mood was uneasy. Part of her was deeply ashamed of what she was doing. Another part of her was aware that this line of enquiry might easily become an addiction, that if she heard good news she would go back to hear more, and that if she heard bad news she would go back to see when her luck would change. And she would not know, actually know as she had been taught to know, anything at all. She was intellectually, as well as morally, uneasy. But it was all fixed now; Caroline had made the appointment, although they had had to wait for nearly two weeks, and had given a false name, for some reason. This too was further cause for shame.
    There were additional rumours of unease. On the telephone, the previous evening, Louise’s breathing had sounded more laboured than usual, and she had given the telephone back to Vadim to finish the conversation.
    ‘What is the matter?’ Kitty had asked him. She was a little tired, he had said: the weather was so unseasonably warm. She has her bad days. But nothing to worry about. He sounded sad, out of character. ‘Papa,’ said Kitty, ‘call the doctor.’ No, no, my darling, everything was all right. He had bought artichokes as a treat. Louisette loved artichokes. And there was a good programme on television. She would be better tomorrow, have no fear. Kitty had not had the heart to tell him that Pauline Bentley had invited her home for the weekend. She would cancel it if necessary.
    There was also the matter of her lecture on the Romantic Tradition, timed for the fourth week of the summer term. She had done no preliminary work for this, yet she was aware that it was something of a test. If she acquitted herself well, it might lead to a proper appointment. As it was, she was a sort of guest in the department, being paid for the seminars she gave, but regarded as a more or less permanent researcher. But if her lecture were to be a success, she could regard her investigation, her apprenticeship, as finished.
    Her seminar the previous week had not gone as smoothly as she had