Everything Will Be All Right by Tessa Hadley Read Free Book Online Page A

ever her children were disrespectful to him; she reminded them how they were dependent on their uncle for a roof over their heads. But she also called him “His Lordship” and commented tartly at tea if he “deigned to honor them with his presence.” He meekly brought her his buttons to be sewn on and stood tamed and obedient while she tugged and stitched away at his collar or the waist of his trousers, scolding him because Peter needed new vests and socks and they hadn’t enough money, biting off her thread with a fierce twist of her head. Once Joyce overheard her speak sharply of his “carryings-on.”
    He didn’t mind Lil; he laughed and tolerated her remarks and sometimes forked out money from his wallet for something she said they needed. Or there might be a companionable moment when they sat out on the wall in the sunshine in the garden after tea and smoked together, Dick bending with disarming gallantry to light Lil’s cigarette. But Joyce could also see how he discounted her because she was shapeless under her print dresses and wouldn’t even go to the girls’ prize-givings because she “wouldn’t know what to say to anyone.”
    *   *   *
    â€”Present for you, Vera, Uncle Dick said, dropping the brown paper parcel down on the table, which was laid for tea. Knives and forks clattered onto the floor.
    Aunt Vera had only just come in from school; she still had her jacket on and she was taking off her gloves. She stopped short and stared at the parcel with suspicion.
    â€”Oh, well, if you don’t want it, he said genially, I’ll take it back.
    â€”What is it? She frowned as if this might be a trick at her expense.
    â€”Open it and see.
    Warily, she tore the paper open. Lil came from the stove with a spoon in her hand to look; the children gathered round. Sometimes Uncle Dick brought thrilling things from the docks: sweets, a wireless, pineapples, picture books, and once three hand-sewn American quilts, part of American support for the war effort that had sat forgotten in a shed somewhere.
    Inside the paper were two bolts of cloth: a deep chestnut velvet and a slightly lighter brown satin. Lil reached out a finger to stroke.
    â€”Real velvet. Don’t any of you touch, she said, in a half whisper.
    â€”D’you reckon you can turn her out in something halfway decent, Lillie?
    â€”Me? Oh, I’d be afraid to cut into that. It’s too good.
    â€”What’s this all about? said Vera. Do you want something?
    â€”Only for you to get out and have a good time for once.
    â€”You could use the velvet to make a matching jacket, Lil said. A bolero.
    â€”My idea of a good time is rather different to yours.
    â€”Ladies’ Night in July. I thought you might like a night out, something new to wear.
    â€”Oh, I see, said Vera, trouble at the lodge. You need to present the respectable husband and father all of a sudden.
    â€”Something like that.
    â€”Suddenly I’m wanted.
    â€”Too much to expect, I suppose, that my lady wife might make the effort for once?
    â€”And suddenly no one else will do.
    â€”Not for the moment, no.
    Vera flashed out in extravagant triumph.
    â€”Oh, they won’t have you there if you divorce. You can forget about ever being elected to Warden’s Office if once you embark upon that little scheme of yours.
    Lil clapped her hands and flapped her apron at the children.
    â€”Go and do your homework, she said. Tea in ten minutes.
    Uncle Dick shrugged.
    â€”That’s up to them. I’ve got my letter of resignation written out in my pocket, if anyone makes difficulties. And I’ll take the cloth back with me if you don’t want it.
    â€”I’ve done faggots and roly-poly, Lil said. Aren’t you staying for tea?
    Uncle Dick’s refusals were always more like rebuffs than apologies: impatient indications of the more important business he had