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20

ANGELA

Goldstein & Sons, rare book-dealers. We hurried towards it through a shoal of banks, huge blank corporations, auction-houses. Along the cold black gullies, past cliffs of black glass, the cars came streaming and honking past us. Fast, deadly, not seeing us.

The towers there always strike me as satanic. Darker, more hulking than over on the West Side, and the shadows they cast are cold and solid, as if spring could never creep in here. She was shivering, drawing her shabby tweed jacket closer. I thought, we’ll have to buy her more clothes, and I will take that smelly suit to the cleaners – ‘Do the best you can, someone drowned in it!’ – (Yes, Virginia’s presence was wearing, and yes, sometimes I fell back on cheap jokes.)

I remembered from the Diaries her unease at buying clothes.

VIRGINIA

I wanted to go straight into the shop with her, but she insisted on leaving me round the corner in a cafeteria. As if she didn’t trust me. (Anyone would think they were her books we were selling.) As soon as I got there, I was ravenous. I had only eaten two slices of toast, after not eating for many decades! There was a delicious smell of fried potatoes. She found me a table by the window and made me promise not to wander off. Of course, that was ridiculous. She sometimes reminded me of Leonard – he, too, often sounded like a gaoler.

I admit the last day I went out on my own I did not prove I could be trusted.

ANGELA

‘Virginia, what would you like to eat?’

VIRGINIA

She was earnest and sensible: not playful. Something to do with not having servants – the business of life, the workaday duties, had ground her down.

I tried for lightness, (Laughing) ‘Oh, soup and salmon and ducklings …’

ANGELA

‘You won’t find that on the menu.’

VIRGINIA

I wanted to know if she had really read me.

‘Partridges?’

ANGELA

She could be a show-off. ‘Virginia, you’ve got to order,’ I said.

VIRGINIA

‘Sprouts foliated like rosebuds?’

ANGELA (still not impressed)

‘I see, it’s the food from A Room of One’s Own. You’re quoting yourself. Or testing me? I promise I’ve read it half a dozen times. It’s a great text. But leave that aside.

‘Here you’ll get sandwiches or salad or a burger. Fried beef in a bun. With chips.’

VIRGINIA (enthusiastically)

‘That sounds delicious. Beef and potatoes. Nothing beats a good boeuf en daube … Yes, I’ll have that. Go and sell the books.’

ANGELA

She was definitely used to having servants!

‘Will you be all right, Virginia?’

(I thought, ‘How will she manage? She won’t understand a word people say!’)

WAITER

‘Burger and fries, Ma’am?’

VIRGINIA

‘Well, that’s – just the ticket.’

ANGELA

So that was that. I parked her there. I didn’t know much about rare books, so I expected a learning curve, and I didn’t want her there mucking things up.

(Quietly) ‘Virginia, please remember not to leave. Because you haven’t got money to pay with. So you will be pursued and arrested. I won’t be long.’

But she was lost in thought, staring happily out at people on the pavement. One hand waved vaguely as I walked away.