It is ten-fifteen. If she means to get to the Italiano by lunchtime, Chloe will have to catch the eleven-fifteen to Liverpool Street Station. And before she can leave the house, thus unexpectedly and disturbing the smooth running of its routine, she must pay the expected penalties.
First she must explain her actions to the children, who will want to know where she is going and why, and with what gifts she will return, before giving her their spiritual permission to leave. Thus:
Imogen (8) London? Can I come too?
Chloe No.
Imogen Why not?
Chloe It’s boring.
Imogen No, it’s not.
Chloe Yes, it is. I’m only going to talk to my friends.
Inigo (18) If it’s boring why are you going?
Chloe It’s nice to get away sometimes.
Stanhope (12) It’s nice here.
Kestrel (12) Will you bring something back?
Chloe If I can.
Kevin (14) Male or female friends?
Chloe Female.
Inigo I should hope so too.
Imogen Why can’t I come? There’s nothing to do here. The others are only going to play boring badminton.
Chloe You can help Françoise.
Imogen I don’t want to help Françoise. I want to go with you.
Stanhope If you see mother, send her my regards. Is that who you’re going to see?
Chloe Your mother’s moved house you know. She must be very busy.
Imogen If you’re going, can we have fish and chips for lunch? From the chip shop?
Chloe It’s very expensive.
Kestrel So’s going to London.
Chloe Very well.
Inigo Will father drive you to the station?
Chloe I shouldn’t think so. He’s working.
Inigo I’ll run you down, then.
Oh, lordly Inigo. He passed his driving test a week ago.
Then there’s Françoise, muttering into the marinade. She’s a stocky, hairy, clever girl, not so much pretty as lascivious looking. The look is an accident of birth, more to do with a low brow and a short upper lip than a reflection of her nature.
Françoise What about the children’s lunch?
Chloe They want fish and chips.
Françoise It is very extravagant.
Chloe Just for once. Inigo can take you down to the village in the car.
Françoise aquiesces. She even smiles.
Chloe The marinade smells lovely.
Françoise The meat will be only soaking for four hours. This is not sufficient. It should have been immersed last night, but I am fatigued, and in consequence forgetful.
Chloe If you like to have tomorrow off—
Françoise Tomorrow I must prepare the lièvre for Sunday’s dinner. It is Oliver’s favourite dish. What is lièvre in English?
Chloe Hare.
Françoise has done an advanced English course but never stops learning.
After Françoise there is Oliver. But Oliver has hardened his objections to her going into indifference. He is working in his study and actually, for once, typing. Usually, should she disturb him in the middle of the morning, he is merely contemplative, staring out of the window.
Oliver So you’re off, are you?
Chloe Yes. Is it going well?
Oliver I’m writing a letter to The Times. They won’t print it.
Chloe Why not? They might.
Oliver No they won’t, because I won’t post it.
Chloe You won’t want to read to me today? Because I can always put off going.
It is Oliver’s custom to read completed passages aloud to Chloe, before making a second draft of what he has written.
Oliver Don’t be silly.
He turns back to his typewriter. It is not encouragement to go, but it is permission.
While Inigo takes the mini from the garage Chloe rings Grace at her new Holland Park number and asks her where the Italiano is.
‘You’re much better off not knowing,’ says Grace.
‘Please. I’m in a hurry.’
‘Up a concrete walk-way at Shepherd’s Bush. Stick to the pasta and avoid the veal.’
‘And Grace, would you please speak to Stanhope. It’s school holidays. Easter. He arrived yesterday. Shall I bring him to the phone now?’
‘I’m busy packing,’ says Grace. ‘I’m going to Cannes with Sebastian this evening. I’ll send Stanhope a postcard. He’ll like that. He doesn’t really want to speak to me, you know he doesn’t. I embarrass him dreadfully on the telephone. We really don’t have anything in common. You do nag, Chloe.’
‘He’s your son.’
‘You only ever say that when it suits you. I suppose you’ve got Kevin and Kestrel there too?’
‘Yes.’
There is a pause. Many people hold Grace responsible for Midge’s death. Midge, who was Kevin and Kestrel’s mother.
‘What a martyr you are,’ is all Grace says. ‘And I suppose the French girl is in Oliver’s bed by now?’
‘Yes. As it happens.’
‘Congratulations. So now’s your chance. You can throw Oliver out of the house and divorce him and live off his money for ever.’
‘I don’t want to.’
‘What? Divorce him or live off his money?’
‘Either. I really must go. I’ll miss my train.’
‘I think it’s all rather sick,’ says Grace. ‘Do they make you watch?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ says Chloe, shocked.
Grace has a passion for detail. She will probe into tragedy and atrocity and insist on full details of childbirth, rape, heart-attacks, road accidents, suicides and murders, long after the teller is sick of the tale. ‘Yes, but what did he say? Did she scream? Did the eye-balls burst too? Where did he put it, exactly, and how? Did the steering-wheel show through his back? Yes, but where did they burn the after-birth?’ Grace knows all about after-births and how, by law, they have to be burned. And how if the mid-wife at a home delivery can’t find a suitable fire, she must carry it off to a hospital incinerator. Otherwise witches might get it.
‘If they don’t let you watch,’ says Grace, ‘it’s not just sick, it’s boring. Can you come round this afternoon after your lunch?’
‘Yes,’ says Chloe, though her heart sinks. Why? Grace is her friend.
‘Who are you having lunch with?’
‘Marjorie.’
‘I thought as much,’ says Grace. ‘Only Marjorie would be seen dead in the Italiano, and dead she will be if she touches the minestrone. Give her my regards and say I hope she keeps her moustache out of the soup.’
And she gives Chloe her new address and puts the phone down.
Grace, who is well over forty, lives with Sebastian, who is twenty-five. Chloe feels herself to be morally superior to Grace.