Reality and Dreams by Muriel Spark Read Free Book Online

very tentative just at this
moment.’ But he gave Tom a rough-handled copy. Tom waved to the assembled crew
as he was wheeled out.
    ‘Take
it easy, Tom.’ ‘Great to see you, Tom.’ ‘Keep it up, Tom.’
    ‘I’ll
be back tomorrow,’ said Tom. ‘Punctually at eight.’

 
     
     
    CHAPTER
SEVEN

     
     
     
    A sixth sense, based on
experience, told Claire that Tom would persuade himself that he should come to
the rescue of Ruth while her husband, Ralph, was occupied with Cora. In fact,
up to his accident, consciously or otherwise, he had made a speciality of the
wives of redundant men, succeeding in about half of the cases. In arriving at
this statistic Claire took into account that a film director holds a special
attraction for women. And to be honest, thought Claire, the reason why I stick
by him is that he’s an interesting film director. She was in her mid-fifties.
Most of her friends, male and female, were now on to their third marriage. Tom
was her first and although she knew why she was still attached to him, Claire
never wondered why he remained with her. She was rich, discreet about her men,
tolerant of his women, a good hostess and good-looking. Why should a husband
over sixty want to leave her?
    And in
fact, Tom had no such intention. He was courting Ruth who still was not aware
of her husband’s affair with Cora. She only knew that Ralph was frequently
away looking for a job, having interviews all over England, and that Tom was
extremely friendly and helpful. Tom was not yet up to the real, the physical,
part of a love affair, which misled her considerably and in fact induced in her
sentimental feelings for Tom. His wheel-chair visits and his flowers made her
happy. He brought her a bracelet worked in white, red and yellow gold. She had
tight-fitting jeans and long blonde hair. Tom thought of her as the hamburger
girl. He thought of her as being in her early twenties although she was well
into her thirties.
    Claire
soon got knowledge of this courtship from her daughter Marigold. As usual
Claire infuriated her daughter by being absent-minded about such knowledge.
    ‘Don’t
you care?’ said Marigold, with a little shriek accompanying the word ‘care’.
    ‘No,’
said Claire. ‘You know I don’t.’
    ‘It’s a
family matter,’ Marigold said.
    ‘That’s
why it bores me even more than your father’s other affairs.’
    ‘Why
don’t you divorce him?’ Marigold intoned.
    ‘You
always ask that. And I ask in return why don’t you divorce your own husband? He’s
never at home.’
    ‘He can’t
write travel books and stay at home at the same time.’
    ‘He can’t
write travel books,’ Claire said. ‘Not good ones. They are too vague. Why don’t
you go on his travels with him if he just wants to travel?’
    Marigold
left. It was amazing how very sour she had turned out to be. Neither Claire nor
Tom could understand her.
    True
enough, that day he had been lunching with Ruth. Claire had simply asked him if
he had.
    ‘How
did you guess?’ he said.
    ‘I have
heard,’ said Claire, ‘that insurance companies move their door-to-door salesmen
into areas where redundant workers live, hoping to profit by their lump-sum
severance pay.’
    It didn’t
take Tom long to make the analogy between himself and the insurance men, and he
protested:
    ‘But we
have had to reduce the cast from eleven to seven.’
    ‘How
many men?’ said Claire.
    ‘Three.’
    ‘Are
they married?’
    ‘Two
are married. The wives are very boring. One of the actors we laid off is
Jonathan Slaker and the other is Wolfgang Hertz. Mrs. Slaker is not young and
Mrs. Hertz is a terrifying young computer-accountant. Not my types. Besides,
you exaggerate. I’m perfectly happy at home. What about Charlie?’
    ‘Charlie?’
she said, for a moment genuinely puzzled. ‘Yes, Charlie.’
    ‘Oh
Charlie. He’s a thing of the past.’
    ‘Redundant,’
said Tom.
    ‘You
might put it that way,’ said Claire.
     
    Tom often wondered if