Free The Janeites by Nicolas Freeling Page A

company’s been seen with William. Little touch ofthe Crab but awkwardly placed… Ah, the Marquishadn’t told you that.” She sat upright; the eyes went twice the size.
    “Not possible! William… but he’s the toughest thing out… physically… He’s no age. And all that boxing and volleyball.”
    “Yes, the crab can be very puritanical about denying us these little pleasures.”
    “Oh God.”
    “Oh dear, there’s God again.”
    “That is what Marky meant, making jokes about the Cancer Man, he’s talking about you.”
    “What is it you call him in bed?”
    “Jesus, who’ll be next? I’m going out today to get my tits X-rayed. I’m going to have a drink and don’t tell me it’s too early,” leaping up and rushing out to the kitchen. She came back with two glasses, pushed the bottle at him. “Open it.”
    “Madame… by the way, my name is Ray,” untwisting the wire.
    “And a cervical smear. Joséphine will do. What else should I have? That snide remark – that’s bloody rude.” She took a big swig and it calmed her.
    “I am bloody rude. This the best you can do, getting in a fuss?”
    “Oh all right. Slight shock, someone you know.”
    “That sounds accurate, as far as it goes. Your turn to pour.”
    “I’ve got this nasty feeling you’ll be on about God again if I’m not careful. Well, I am careful. I care also about William.”
    “But you don’t love him, is that what you’re telling me?”
    “Not at all. I did, or thought I did. I was mistaken. A clear conscience, about that. I tried.”
    “Yes, it’s a word to be careful with. ‘In all conscience’ we say, or perhaps ‘speaking as a conscientious woman’. Tcha, if the human being were something we could pour water in at the top, and be satisfied when urine comes out at the bottom, we could treat illness with a few plants, champagne for instance. Could you say why, do you think, or don’t you know?”
    “He’s much too good.” Quite sadly and seriously. “It drove me bats. I’m not good at all. I wanted to claw him.” There would be more, plenty more … but it was a moment of lucidity.
    “Like the man said, daylight and champagne could not be clearer. Not too sure about the daylight nowadays.”
    “The champagne isn’t what it was either. One thought life would be more fun, somehow.”
    “I didn’t come here to pester you. Only to know where you stood. Then I know where I stand. I’ll take myself off.”
    “We could have lunch together. If you liked.” And that too told him something. He’d have enjoyed it too; this girl with the lovely long legs. ‘I am tempted, Scaramouche’ and the answer come pat – ‘Always yield to temptation, master.’ Sadly, life isn’t simple any more. Nice little place round the corner, let’s have coffee back at home, and you can spend the afternoon in bed with her. “Back on the shuttle?” she asked. “I see. But I rather imagine you’ll be back.”
    “Paris is not far.” And the distance is speedily lessened.
    A tormenting female. Just the sort the Marquis would like. So he thought about the old man, while banging through the lunchtime traffic saying ‘It’s time for the apéro.’ Meaning that he should stop for lunch.
    The old man was making a virtue of being old. ‘Can’t be bothered with all this computer bullshit.’ Internets and e-mails; accepts that life has gone past him, but trying hard still to enjoy girls.

    Raymond hasn’t felt frightened since being in Paris; hadn’t had time? Too much else on his mind: himself is not important enough.
    When younger he had known and greatly loved an old lady. Russian; a poet, along with much else. Long after he had lost sight of her he had learned that when coming towards the end of her life she had written memos of people she had known, and among them himself. By now Doctor Valdez is quite high on self-awareness, reckons he knows himself pretty well. In that script, a few pages of scrawly handwriting, was a passage