Chapter Nineteen

Dr Unwin carefully adjusted the blotter on his desk. He had, I had long since observed, a passion for symmetry.

‘And did you feel any guilt?’

‘For stealing the vinaigrette? No, none at all. She owed him that. And much more,’ I added.

‘No, I didn’t mean the vinaigrette. I meant his death.’

‘I wasn’t responsible for his death. Why should I have felt guilty about it?’

He did not answer.

‘I did all I could for him. I visited him as often as I could.’

‘And your mother? Did she feel any guilt?’

Did she? I pondered it. No. At first she seemed totally callous, horrifying me by her angry: ‘Oh, God!’ when given the news, followed by her: ‘He would choose the time when we’re just about to leave for Como. Totally thoughtless to the last.’ But then, late that night, I had heard her sobbing in the bedroom next to mine. I had wondered whether to go in to comfort her. Then I had thought: ‘No. Let her bloody well stew in her own juice.’

‘Did your mother feel any guilt?’ Dr Unwin repeated. I had been absent from his room for some time, lost in thought, even though my body had been seated across the desk from him.

‘I don’t think so. No. I think she felt grief,’ I added. ‘Surprisingly. Her love for him seemed to have died such a long time before.’

‘Perhaps she was grieving for what he had been when they first met and married and fell in love?’

‘Possibly. Yes.’

‘What did you feel about her? After it had happened, I mean?’ I stared at him. ‘ I don’t know,’ I eventually answered. Nor did

I.
But he didn’t believe me. ‘Oh, come on! You must have blamed

her, didn’t you?’
I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to answer.
‘After all, if she had visited him and paid the rent and given him

an allowance – well, perhaps he would never have done what he

did?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘In a way, she murdered him. Or, at least, was the cause of his

death?’
Was it really Dr Unwin who put those questions to me? Or did

I put them to myself, as I sat, totally silent, in ‘ my’ armchair by

the window?
It is odd that I do not remember. I really do not remember. I

really do not know.