Gordon Williams by The Siege of Trencher's Farm--Straw Dogs Read Free Book Online Page A

father and forget that damned book of yours!”
    “So that’s what you think? Branksheer’s some kind of joke? And what d’you mean, behave like a normal father? Don’t you think I’m a normal father? I was a normal enough father before we stranded ourselves in this God-forsaken hole!”
    The row flared quickly and violently. Each thought there was something irrational about the other.
    “I know why you wanted us to come here,” George said, his mouth tightened, his anger channelled, as usual, into heavy sarcasm. “You think you’re getting old, you’re suffering from some delayed adolescent fantasy, aren’t you, let’s go back to England and re-live the jolly old past. Let’s look for romance!”
    “What’s that bullshit supposed to mean?”
    “Karen – you go on out and play or something,” said George. They waited till she left, Louise wondering if a good slap on the bottom would shake her daughter out of this unnatural solemnity. What was wrong with her?
    “Now then, Louise,” said George, looking set to play the heavy husband. “I’ve told you about using that kind of language in front of Karen, I –”
    “You’ve told me! Who do you think you are, you pompous bastard? I’ll swear if I bloody well like.”
    “Not in front of Karen. It doesn’t become you, anyway.”
    “Become me, become me! You sound like Queen Victoria.Hmmph, for a so-called professor you’ve got a very old-fashioned imagination, haven’t you?”
    “A so-called professor! That’s better than being a so-called poet. I suppose you’re just eating your heart out for that fat slob.”
    “Are you referring to Patrick Ryman? If so, I –”
    “Who else would I be referring to? That’s why you wanted us to come to this precious little country of yours, isn’t it? Romantic fantasy. Did you think he’d come riding up the lane and carry you off? Come to England, I want to show you my country! Horseshit! All you wanted was to indulge some sordid little romantic daydream.”
    “Oh, clever, clever. You found another word for fantasy, You’re improving.”
    “Fantasy suits you.”
    “Suits me ? You live in a great non-stop bloody fantasy and you think everybody else is the same. God, you’re sick .”
    “Now look here, I didn’t start all this, what do –”
    “You didn’t start it, oh no, you’re too damned clever for that. You provoke me into starting it, don’t you? Very clever.”
    “I didn’t provoke you! I was perfectly happy, I –”
    “Were you hell! You’ve been brooding all bloody morning. What’s eating you now then, your virility problem or whatever the stupid American euphemism is?”
    “What do you mean, stupid American? Listen to me, Louise, what’s all this really about?”
    “It’s about you keeping your nose buried in that dreary old book you’re supposed to be writing and me having to try and amuse our daughter. You’re her father, remember? I suppose you think it’s beneath your masculine dignity to take an interest in your own child.”
    “I do take an interest in her.”
    “Not like a proper father –”
    “Not like an English father, you mean? Listen to me, Louise, I –”
    “Why do you always tell me to listen to you? I’m not some idiot student on a football scholarship, you know.”
    “Look, Louise, I’m getting tired of this. Being in England hasn’t made you happy, has it? All I get is this anti-American stuff. If you were so keen on England why didn’t you marry some faggot Englishman instead of a stupid American?”
    “God, if only –”
    “If only, if only. I know what’s bothering you, Louise. You’re worrying about old age creeping up on you again . Oh, la-di-da, poor little Louise’s all sad and sore, life isn’t turning out the great romantic day-dream after all, is it? You poor dear.”
    “What do you know about romance, you swot ? You live in your bloody books, that’s all you know.”
    “You knew what I did for a living before you married me. Now