Читать книгу A Pure Clear Light - Madeleine John St. - Страница 15
11
ОглавлениеIt was the night before Flora and the children were to leave for France.
‘Will you be alright?’
‘Of course I will.’
‘You will eat properly won’t you, I mean proper food, not canteen rubbish –’
‘It isn’t rubbish at all, it’s jolly good nosh.’
‘It isn’t fresh. There’s nothing raw.’
‘There’s salads.’
‘Well, do make sure you eat them then, not just that overcooked junk.’
‘It’s good, that canteen stuff.’
‘Sure, sure. And please don’t forget Mrs Brick’s wages, will you – I’ve left you a reminder on the bathroom mirror.’
‘Right, right.’
‘I think that’s all.’
‘Will you be alright?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Telephone me as soon as you get to Tours.’
‘Will do.’
‘And then when you get to the gîte.’
‘Obviously.’
‘You’re taking all this far too calmly for my liking. After all, we’ve never done this before, you going off alone with the car and the kids.’
‘Claire does it every year.’
‘That’s different.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, she and Alex don’t – you know –’
‘Whereas we do?’
‘Don’t we?’
‘Of course. Of course.’
‘Come here.’
Simon took Flora in his arms, sitting on the sofa, the television set still on but with the sound turned off. Flora leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, one arm loosely around his neck. After a while, ‘Isn’t life – but I can’t find the word,’ she said.
‘I think I know what you mean.’
Flora tilted her head and looked up at him. ‘What do I mean?’ she asked.
Simon pondered for a moment. ‘Transitory,’ he said. ‘You mean transitory.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t you?’
Flora considered the question. ‘Ye-e-es,’ she said. ‘I suppose that’s what I mean.’ But there was something other, something more, or something, even, less, that she meant – in that strange and tiny space in the mind where it is just possible to mean without having the word which conveys that meaning. And one could not have said whether it were fatigue or fear which prevented her from searching for, and finding, the right word. The reasonable word. The mot juste, as English-speakers say.
