Now something had ripped the plant’s largest leaf and something else had broken one of the stems, leaving a leaf hanging by no more than a few sinews. Domenica stared in dismay at the damage that had been done: two years’ growth, she thought, had been casually destroyed in a few moments of carelessness.
She looked up and saw that Antonia’s front door was ajar. It was as if a detective had arrived on the scene of the crime and seen the culprit’s footprint etched clearly into the ground. It was now obvious to her what had happened – Antonia had been carrying something into the flat, swinging her bag perhaps, and had brushed against the plant, thus causing this damage.
And rather than attend to it – to break off the damaged leaf – and rather than knock on Domenica’s door and offer some sort of apology, she had merely disregarded what had happened. Well!
That showed gratitude. That showed how much she appreciated everything that Domenica had done for her – offering her flat for the full period of her absence for nothing, and indeed getting nothing in return other than this cavalier conduct towards the local flora.
And then there had been the incident of the blue Spode teacup, which Domenica had found Antonia using in her flat, having obviously removed it from her own kitchen. Remove was a charitable term in this context; steal might be more accurate. That was business that had yet to be resolved, and it was difficult to It Was a Pity That Things Had Come to This 175
see how this could be done. It is a major step to accuse one’s neighbour of theft; it implies a complete breakdown in relations and leads one into a position from which there is no easy retreat.
It is quite possible, though, to make a remark that falls short of an outright accusation, but yet which makes a clear implication of negligence at the very least.
Domenica had given some thought to the Spode issue and had decided that she would raise the matter by saying: “I wonder if you’ve forgotten, perhaps, to return the cup you borrowed.”
That would indicate to Antonia that she knew that the cup was there, that she had not got away with it, but at the same time it did not amount to a direct accusation of theft.
It was a pity that things had come to this, she thought. Antonia had been a friend, and she had not imagined that there would be any breach in relations. But it had occurred, or was about to occur, and this, Domenica thought, demonstrated the wisdom of those who said that you never really knew your friends until you had lived in close proximity with them for some time. Going on holiday with friends was a good way of testing a friendship.
In some cases, this worked well, and served to cement the relationship; in others, it revealed the fault lines in that relationship as accurately as any seismograph will reveal the movement between plates.
Domenica had welcomed Antonia to Scotland Street even though she thought that it was slightly tactless of Antonia to have moved into the next-door flat without consulting her.
She had wondered whether she was being excessively sensitive about this, as strictly speaking it was none of her business which flat Antonia should choose to buy. There was an open market in housing, and Scotland Street was part of that market. But then she thought that Antonia’s purchase of the neighbouring flat meant that she who had come as a guest to the larger address – 44 Scotland Street – would not be leaving, but remaining. And that, Domenica decided, constituted a unilateral extension of a relationship that had been entered into on the understanding that it would be temporary. Or that 176 She Could See the Attraction – It Was the Eyes is how an anthropologist might put it, which was what Domenica was.
As she stood there, peering at Antonia’s half-open door, there crossed Domenica’s mind the idea that one way of signalling displeasure to another would be to write an academic paper expressing this displeasure, but couched in general terms and, of course, without mentioning the specific casus belli. So, in this case, she might write a paper which she would ask Antonia to read before she sent it off to Mankind Quarterly, or Cultural Anthropology. The title would be something like “Residential Property Exchanges and Expectations of Continuing Neighbourhood Relationships,” and it would purport to deal with the issue of social expectations in circumstances where one party (Antonia, obviously, but just not so described) accepts a time-limited gift of another’s house (Domenica’s flat in Scotland Street, but again not described).
That would set the scene, and there would then follow a discussion of how important it is for social harmony that the party accepting the gift should understand that he or she should not presume to transform the host/guest relationship into something quite different, namely, a neighbour/neighbour relationship.
Antonia was a perceptive person, thought Domenica, and she would get the point of that. But there was a further challenge, and that was more difficult: how would one incorporate into such a paper some mention of a blue Spode teacup? After all, one did not want to be too obvious.
53. She Could See the Attraction – It Was the Eyes Domenica peered round Antonia’s door into the hall. She would normally have knocked, but her sense of grievance over the ruined philodendron made her feel disinclined to extend to Antonia that courtesy; wanton destroyers of philodendra She Could See the Attraction – It Was the Eyes 177
must expect some consequences. The hall light was on, and a portable workbench had been set up, with pieces of timber stacked against it; there was sawdust on the floor and the smell of cut wood. A large metal box lay open beside the bench, with various tools displayed – a power saw, a jumble of cable, clamps.
Domenica cleared her throat. “Antonia?”
She waited a few seconds for a reply and then called out again. It now occurred to her that Antonia was out and that the door had been left open by the workmen. More than that, the workmen appeared to have left the flat unattended for some reason, as there was no response from them. She realised now that she had jumped to conclusions: the damage to the plant would not have been Antonia’s doing, but must have been caused by the builders. Manipulating a piece of timber around a small landing would not be easy, and any philodendron that should find itself in the way was bound to be damaged. She sighed. It would have been easy for somebody to have spoken to her about this in advance and to have suggested that the plant be stored in her flat until the work was over. That would have been so simple and straightforward, but nobody had thought of that –