Altered States by Anita Brookner Read Free Book Online

same thing myself.’
    ‘So that’s where the poverty came from. And living in a hotel. What did they do?’
    ‘They were enterprising. They got jobs in one of the big cafés. He played the piano and she was a waitress. Then he got tired of it and said he wanted to see the Riviera, so they both went to Nice for a bit and did the same thing there. Then they parted company and she returned to Paris.’
    ‘And were there other friends along the way?’
    ‘Perhaps. Again I don’t blame her. And she doesn’t blame herself. I admire her for that. She makes no apologies for her past, but she doesn’t turn it into a fairy story either. And latterly she was completely respectable. She got a job as an assistant at the Librairie Polonaise, in the Boulevard Saint-Germain, and that’s where she met Humphrey, you see; she was treating herself to a coffee after work at the Deux Magots, and there he was. That’s how they met.’
    ‘Why are her feet so ugly?’
    ‘Oh, that
is
sad. When she was first in Paris she was very impressed by the glamour of the women, and she saved up for ages for something new to wear. She wanted high-heeled shoes, and one evening Janek presented her with a pair. Only they were too small. She wore them anyway, so as not to hurt him, with the result that her poor feet were pushed out of shape. She may even have broken a couple of bones, with the result that you see. But now at least she can rest: she doesn’t have to be on her feet all the time.’
    ‘And you really enjoy these afternoons out?’
    ‘I do, although I can see that you don’t quite believe me. She’s a very good companion; she’s cheerful and affectionate and undemanding. A very loving person. I can see it’s a novelty for her to have a bit of money to spend. She adores going round the shops, particularly Selfridges, and you know, Alan, it quite amuses me. I rather like being frivolous with her. It’s quite a salutary lesson for me to see her appreciating the good things in life. I’m afraid I’ve taken them too much for granted.’
    ‘And you have afternoon tea.’
    ‘She always insists on treating me, though I’d rather be at home by that time. She enjoys being waited on, you see.’
    What I could see was Jenny’s face shining with pleasure as she contemplated a plate of hotel cakes. I assumed she was greedy, but this may not have been the case. As my mother said, she may simply have enjoyed being waited on, a legitimate pleasure after those early years of waiting on others.
    ‘And are they happy? After all, Humphrey’s a respectable sort of bloke, very little experience of women …’
    ‘They are very happy—you saw that for yourself. She’s grateful to him, she respects him, in fact she idolizes him, and why not? He rescued her from the Librairie Polonaise and the Hôtel du Départ …’
    ‘I’ve passed it. Yes, he rescued her from that all right, though it’s a perfectly reasonable place.’ I forbore to tell my mother that I had once gone there with a girl, between trains. Only an accident of our respective histories had prevented Jenny and myself from coinciding there.
    ‘ … and she says he’s given her a family.’
    ‘What, Sybil and Marjorie? I can’t see those two striking up a friendship.’
    ‘Well, no, not Sybil and Marjorie, though they’ve behaved better than might have been expected. No, she means Sarah.’
    Carefully I balanced the last of my cheese on a corner of biscuit. ‘What about Sarah?’ I said.
    ‘She loves the girl. She told me that Sarah was the daughter she never had. And the worst of it is that Sarah can’t stand her. Humphrey is quite a wealthy man, you know, and Sarah is his favourite niece, his only niece, in fact. Before his marriage Sarah stood to inherit a decent sum of money. Not that she’s a poor girl; she has her own father’s share from the sale of the business. Humphrey has been more than fair. And I’m sure he’s made provision for her, even now.’
    ‘Is it