They stopped by the river near Maidenhead and had breakfast, rested later in a town whose public gardens looked inviting, drove on, were invited by an attractive pub, and had lunch in another garden while sparrows hopped about them in the dust.
He said once, 'Are you having difficulty suspending disbelief?'
'Yes,' and stopped herself saying, It's the boys, you see.
'I thought so. As for me, I am having no difficulty at all.’And his laughter had enough triumph in it to make her examine him for the reason. There was something in all this she was not understanding – but never mind. She was quite recklessly happy. What a dull life she did lead: Julia was right. They drove up side roads to avoid the motorways, got themselves lost, and all the time their looks and smiles promised, Tonight we are going to lie in each other's arms. The day continued warm, with a silky golden haze, and in the late afternoon they sat in another garden, by a river, observed by blackbirds, a thrush, and a large friendly dog who sat by them, until it gained its bit of cake from both of them, and wandered off, its tail slowly swinging.
' A fat dog,’ said Harold Holman, ' and that's what I shall be, after this weekend.' Replete, yes, he looked that, but as well there was this other ingredient, a pleasure in her, in the situation, which made her say, without planning to, ' Just what are you so pleased with yourself about?' He at once understood, so that the aggressiveness of it, which she regretted, for it contradicted the radiant content she felt, was annulled as he said, ‘Ah, yes, you are right, you are right, ' and gave her a laughing look, and she thought that he looked like a lazy lion, his paws crossed in front of him, lifting a commanding head in a slow lazy yawn. ‘I’ll tell you, I'll tell you everything. But first, I want to get somewhere when the light is like this. ‘And off they drove again, into Warwickshire, and he parked outside their hotel, and came to open the door for her. ' Come and look at this. ' Across the street were trees, gravestones, shrubs, an old yew. 'I was looking forward to showing you this
no, you're wrong, I've not brought a woman here before, but I had to stop in this town, months ago, and I thought, it's magic, this place. But I was alone. '
They crossed the street hand in hand and stood in the old graveyard where the yew seemed almost as tall as the little church. It was an early summer dusk, and a moon was emerging bright into a darkening sky. The pale gravestones leaned about and seemed to want to speak to them. Breaths of warm summer air, wisps of cool mist, brushed their faces, and they stood in each other's arms, and kissed and then were close for a long time, listening to the messages from each other's bodies. And then the pressure of unshareable emotions made them step back from each other, though they still held hands, and he said, ‘Yes, ' with a quiet regret she did not need to have explained. She was thinking, ‘I could have married somebody like this, instead of...’ Julia called him an imbecile. Since Johnny did not telephone Julia after that little meeting,’ so that everyone could hear the truth' , Julia had rung him to find out what he thought, or rather, what he was prepared to say. ‘Well?’ she had enquired. ' Surely that was worth thinking about... what that Israeli said?' 'You must learn to take a long-term perspective, Mutti.' 'Imbecile.'
The graveyard filled with dark, as the sky lightened, and the gravestones shone bright and ghostly, and they leaned against the yew in the blackness under it, and looked out, watching the moonlight strengthen. Then they walked through the graves, all old ones, no one here younger than the century, and soon were in the room in the old-fashioned hotel where they had registered as Harold Holman and Frances Holman.
She was actually thinking, Oh, why not, I could marry this man, we could be happy, after all people do marry and are happy - but the thought of the weight and complexity of Julia's house pushed aside this nonsense, and she banished that thought too, in her intention to be happy for this one night.
And so she was, so they were. ' Made for each other, ' he breathed in her ear, and then exclaimed it aloud, exulting. They lay side by side, enlaced, while outside the brief night hurried past towards a dawn that was not going to be delayed by cloud: the moonlight glittered on the panes. 'I've been in love with you for years,' he said, 'years. Ever since I saw you first with those little boys of yours. Johnny's wife. You don't know how often I fantasised about ringing you up and asking you to sneak around the corner for a drink. But you were Johnny's wife, and I was so in awe of him. '
Frances's spirits were taking a fall, and she wished that he would not go on: but he would have to, that was obvious, for here was the sad face of the truth. ' That must have been in that dreadful flat in Notting Hill.'
‘Was it dreadful? But we didn't go in for gracious living in those days. ‘And he laughed loudly, from an excess of everything, and said, 'Oh, Frances, if you've ever had a dream you thought would never come true, then tonight is that, for me. '
She was thinking of herself then, overweight and worried, with the small children always at her or on her, clutching her, climbing up her, competing for her lap. ' Just what did you see in me then, I’d like to know?'
He was silent for a while. 'It was everything. Johnny – he was such a hero to me then. And you were Johnny's wife. You were such a couple, I envied you both and I envied Johnny. And the little boys – I hadn't had children then. I wanted to be like you.'
' Like Johnny. '
‘I can't explain. You were such – a holy family, ' he laughed and flung his limbs about, and then sat on the edge of the bed, stretching up his arms into the moony light of the room and said, ‘You were wonderful. Calm... serene... nothing phased you. And I did realise that Johnny wasn't necessarily the easiest... I'm not criticising him. '
'Why not? I do.’Was she really going to demolish this dream – she couldn't. Oh, yes, she could. ‘Did you have any idea how much I hated Johnny then?'
'Well, of course we hate our dear loved ones sometimes. Jane – she was a pain.'
'Johnny was consistently a pain.'
‘But what a hero!'
She was sitting with her arm around his neck, as close as she could, to be near that exulting vitality. Her breasts were against his arm. How much she did like her body tonight, because he did. Smooth heavy breasts, and her arms – she could grant that they were beautiful. ‘When I saw Johnny in that room the other night, I wondered if you two still...'
' Good God, no, ' and she withdrew from him, body, mind, and even liking, for just that moment. ‘How could you think that?’Well, why shouldn'the...’ Never mind Johnny,’ she said. ' Come back here. ' She lay down and he came to lie by her, smiling.
‘I admired that man more than anyone in my life. For me he was a sort of god. Comrade Johnny. He was much older than I was...’ He lifted his head to look at her.
' That means I am much older than you are. '
'Not tonight you aren't. I was in a bit of a mess when I first met Johnny – at a meeting, it was. I was a green boy. I had failed my exams. My parents said, ' ' If you are a communist don't darken our doors.' ‘And Johnny was kind to me. A father figure. I decided to be worthy of him. '
Here she controlled the muscles ofher diaphragm, but whether to forestall laughter or tears, it was hard to say.
‘I found a room in a comrade's house. I took my exams again. I was a teacher for a bit, I was in the Union then... but the point is, I owe it all to Johnny. '
‘Well, what can I say? Good for him. But surely, good for you?'
' If I had believed then that I could be with you tonight, hold you in my arms, I think I’d have gone mad with joy. Johnny's wife, in my arms. '