“Patty Williams fainted this afternoon,” said Lisa.
“Good heavens! What, in Goode’s?”
“Yes, right in the middle of Ladies’ Cocktail,” said Lisa. “Her husband was there too.”
“Her husband? But what was he doing there?” asked Mrs. Miles, astonished.
“I don’t know,” said Lisa. “Fay and I had to look after the section while Miss Jacobs was with Patty and the nurse so we didn’t hear what was going on. All I know is that—” and she recounted the events which she herself had witnessed.
“Well, that all sounds very odd to me,” said Mrs. Miles. “Fancy him turning up there like that. And then her fainting. Goodness me. Don’t you go fainting, now. Do you eat a proper lunch when you forget to take your sandwiches? Promise me. You see what can happen if you don’t. She ought to know better at her age. Poor thing. I wonder why she hasn’t had any children.”
“You should see her husband!” cried Lisa.
“Now, Lesley, what do you know about that?” asked her mother.
“Well, he’s completely gormless,” said Lisa.
“So are lots of men,” said Mrs. Miles. “It doesn’t stop them from becoming fathers.”
Now that fathers had been mentioned the related subject of Lisa’s future was brought before them; it could hardly be avoided. The distractions of Christmas and the New Year were behind them and Lisa’s fate was very nearly in view: the Leaving Certificate examination results were to be published at the end of the week. They would appear in the Saturday editions of the Herald and the Telegraph; a large number of the examinees would go and inspect them on the proof-sheets of the first editions, which were posted for the purpose outside the newspaper offices late on Friday evening. It might have been thought that Lisa’s father, privy much sooner still to the vital information, could have passed it on earlier in the day, but so delicate was the subject of these results and the prohibited ambition which depended upon them that the subject had not been mentioned in his presence. He himself had expressed no interest in it whatsoever.
“I suppose you’ll go down to the Herald on Friday night to see the results,” said Mrs. Miles in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Oh, yes, probably,” Lisa agreed with an air of equal unconcern. “I might as well.”
Mrs. Miles could see nothing for it but to allude directly to the question which was now so immediate.
“If you’ve done very well,” she said, “if you’re pretty sure to get that scholarship, then I think it might be a good idea if we let your father stew for a few days after the results come out. I know he’s very stubborn about you not going to the university but, all the same, it might be a good idea to let him stew. There’s plenty of time to try and talk him around before you’d have to enrol.”
“Oh, I suppose so,” said Lisa unhappily.
She could hardly endure the idea of further waiting, further uncertainty.
“There’s a few more weeks before the scholarship list is announced anyway,” Mrs. Miles pointed out. “Just let him stew. You can wait.”
“And if I don’t get good results,” said Lisa, “there’s nothing to worry about anyway.”
“No,” said Mrs. Miles. “But you will.”
And she knew this for a fact, she felt it in her bones.
“Don’t you worry, Lesley,” she said. “Lisa. Everything will work out. You’ll see. You just make sure you eat properly. Eat a proper lunch; don’t go fainting like that Mrs. Williams. What was that stuff you wanted me to try and get for your sandwiches like you had at Magda’s? Salami? Well, I’ll see if I can find any. I suppose there’s some salami somewhere in Chatswood. I’ll have a good look tomorrow. Salami. I’ll write it down so I don’t forget.”