When I Was Otherwise by Stephen Benatar Read Free Book Online Page A

think I could probably manage it.”
    Dan returned from the front door with the shaken tablecloth and Daisy was able to relax again.
    Marsha continued to sulk for the rest of the evening.
    â€œIn any case, you ought to be glad to have the opportunity of making new friends—both of you. I am,” said Daisy, while Dan was trying to listen to a radio play. “Making friends, indeed, is one of life’s greatest pleasures.” After a moment she added: “Though keeping them, I admit, is sometimes slightly less of a pleasure! I occasionally wonder if it’s worth it.”
    When she got no noticeable response she said a few seconds later, “Is this thing any good? What’s it all about? I wish you had a television. Everybody has a television these days. In case you didn’t know, this year is nineteen -seventy-five, not eighteen -seventy-five! They all think that’s extraordinary at the club. ‘What do you do ,’ they say, ‘the evenings when the club’s not open?’ ‘Nothing,’ I say, ‘ nothing ! Just stare at the carpet and go crazy.’ ‘You don’t have to tell us that!’ they say. Thank God, though, I’ve got inner resources. I don’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t! What’s happening now?” she asked.
    Dan tried to give her a quick résumé. “No, no, it doesn’t matter,” she interrupted. “I can’t hear a word—you and the wireless in competition. You enjoy yourself; forget about me. I’ll simply sit and twiddle my thumbs.”
    She was quiet for a short period. She adjusted her hearing aid.
    It whistled.
    She tapped her foot a little, in time to a tune that must have sounded catchier inside her head than it did when she tried to hum it.
    â€œHave you sent off your Christmas cards yet?” she said to Marsha.
    Silence—except for the radio.
    â€œThe best friend I ever had, you know, was Marie. Though it beats me why people can’t pronounce that name properly any more. It’s as if they’d never heard of Marie Corelli—or Stopes—or Tempest—or biscuits! Weren’t they ever taught it ought to rhyme with ‘starry’?” She gave a richly contemptuous snort. “Where was I, then?”
    Nobody answered.
    â€œOh, yes. Marie. Now, there was a sensible woman: the most sensible woman I ever met. Sometimes I think the only sensible woman I ever met! And sensitive! I mean—sensitive to the needs of others, naturally. There’s not a single day passes when I don’t think of her—and miss her! No! Never!”
    She tapped her foot some more.
    The leading male character in the play was declaring his love for the leading female character. Daisy listened for a couple of minutes. He was getting quite passionate.
    â€œSilly ass!” she said. “Can’t think why he doesn’t find something better to do with his time. Poor fellow is all I can say. Deserves everything he’ll get. Bill could tell him a thing or two! Oh, my word, but couldn’t he just! I don’t know how you’ve got the patience to put up with all this tripe.”
    Dan—with his customary good-humoured compliance—stood up and switched off the radio.
    â€œOh, I see you haven’t.” The cessation of sound seemed to make her instantly more cheerful. “Wise chap! There’s hope for you yet, dear.”
    Marsha said curtly, with her head still bent over her sewing basket, “Dan was trying to listen to that play!” It was the first time she’d spoken for ages.
    â€œYes, I know, dear. I didn’t quite hear what you said but I daresay you’re right.” Anything to be conciliatory, she thought. She chuckled. “And welcome back to the land of the living!”
    So obviously Marsha, too, had a bit more discrimination than she sometimes gave her credit for, and in the end the only thing her recovery