Chapter 3. Free Women 2

Two Visits, some telephone calls and a Tragedy

The telephone rang just as Anna was tiptoeing from the child’s room. Janet started up again, and said, on a satisfied grumbling note: ‘That’s Molly, I expect, and you’ll be talking for hours and hours.’ ‘Shhhh,’ said Anna; and went to the telephone thinking: For children like Janet the fabric of security is woven, not of grandparents, cousins, a settled home; but that friends telephone every day, and certain words are spoken.

‘Janet is just going to sleep and she sends her love,’ she said loudly into the instrument; and Molly replied, playing her part: ‘Send my love to Janet and say she must go to sleep at once.’

‘Molly says you must go to sleep, she says good night,’ said Anna loudly into the darkened room. Janet said: ‘How can I go to sleep when now you two are going to talk for hours and hours?’ The quality of the silence from Janet’s room, however, told Anna that the child was going to sleep, satisfied; and she lowered her voice and said: ‘All right. How are you?’

Molly said, over-casual: ‘Anna, is Tommy with you?’

‘No, why should he be?’

‘Oh, I just wondered … If he knew I was worrying he’d be furious, of course.’

For the last month, Molly’s daily bulletins from the house half a mile away had consisted of nothing but Tommy; who was sitting hour after hour in his room, alone, not moving, apparently not even thinking.

Now Molly abandoned the topic of her son, and gave Anna a long humorous, grumbling account of the dinner she had had the night before with some old flame from America. Anna listened, hearing the undercurrent of hysteria in her friend’s voice, waiting for her to conclude: ‘Well anyway, I looked at that pompous middle-aged slob sitting there, and I thought of what he used to be like — well, I expect he was thinking, what a pity Molly’s turned out the way she has — but why do I criticize everyone so? There isn’t anyone good enough for me ever? And it isn’t even as if I can compare present offerings with some beautiful past experience, because I can’t remember ever being really satisfied, I’ve never said: Yes, this is it. But I’ve been remembering Sam for years ever so nostalgically, as the best of the bunch, and even wondering why I was such a fool to turn him down, and today I was remembering how much he bored me even then — what are you going to do when Janet is asleep? Are you going out?’