The Fat Woman's Joke by Fay Weldon Weldon Read Free Book Online Page A

bacon. Why can’t we get it thicker?”
    â€œBecause thin bacon is an excellent economy. It is the one economy I have. It’s not the smell of bacon, I can assure you.”
    â€œOh, of course,” said Peter. “I forgot. It’s aniseed.”
    â€œAniseed?”
    â€œAniseed?”
    â€œFrom the buns. We’re filling buns with aniseed. Then you throw them at the patrol dogs and they go after the buns, and not you.”
    â€œPatrol dogs?”
    â€œI could do with some more sausages.”
    â€œPatrol dogs?” Alan’s normally pale face was pink. As his color heightened, the resemblance between him and his son became even more apparent.
    â€œDown at Frampton. There’s a biological warfare place down there. We’re going down for a sit-in.”
    â€œWe?”
    â€œStephanie and me.”
    â€œStephanie?”
    â€œYou know Stephanie.” Another mouthful, and another bacon rasher disappeared. His parents watched.
    â€œThe one with the hair?”
    â€œIt’s easier to look after like that. Cropped.”
    â€œShe could shave it right off and polish the skin,” said Esther. “Then she could seal it, to preserve the shine.”
    â€œThat was not worthy of you, Mother.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” she said, humbly, “I am not at my best when hungry, and your father keeps getting at me”—Alan took out his cigarettes and failed to offer her one—“but she’s a very nice girl, I know, and extremely bright. I like her. I understand she is very popular.”
    â€œIt is true,” said Peter nobly, “that she does sometimes get mistaken for a boy, by the older generation. Never our own, however, and that is the most important thing. I do realize it is hard for people of your age to adjust yourselves to current values, and I appreciate the effort you both make. I mean really.”
    â€œTell me more about the patrol dogs,” said Alan.
    â€œJust a sit-down. I don’t like people who organize diseases for the benefit of humanity. I mean, do you? The least I feel I can do is register my protest. So I shall sit down on the ground in a field along with a couple of hundred others, until shifted by some force other than my own.”
    â€œOh youth, youth!” said Alan, not altogether displeased. “What good do you think it will do?”
    â€œI don’t know. None, probably. I don’t much care. It will make me feel better.” Peter rose and cut himself a thick slice of bread. He spread it with butter, and covered it with apricot jam in which the apricots lay sugary and whole. “Well, I mean,” he went on, as his teeth slipped through the soft slice, “you two went on marches once, didn’t you? And left-wing meetings? You waved banners along with the rest. You helped to save the world. The world’s the same as it always was, but what happened to you when you stopped trying to alter it?”
    â€œAll that was a long time ago,” said Alan. “Thank God.”
    â€œWe grew up,” said Esther. “We gained a sense of reality.”
    â€œYou grew fat and cozy and comfortable, you mean,” said Peter. “You changed sides, that’s what happened to you!”
    Esther jumped to her feet; she all but shouted, “I am not fat and cozy and comfortable. Neither is Alan.”
    â€œOh, Mum!” he said reproachfully, from his great rosy height. “Oh, Dad! Look at yourselves.”
    Esther sat down again. Her heavy breasts drooped over the table. His paunch swelled beneath its top.
    â€œI’m sorry I tried to cook that omelette in butter,” she said presently. “It was stupid of me.”
    â€œOh, forget it,” said her husband, who had no intention of doing so. “Cigarette?”

6
    P HYLLIS, LISTENING TO ESTHER’S account of the first day of the diet, was beginning to feel hungry herself. She drank a cup of coffee and