David Lodge Read Free

museum.”
    “What is it?” said Joanna, joining them.
    Desmond made room for her. “Fertility whatnots,” he said.
    “We don't seem to be able to get away from the subject, do we?” Sally said to Joanna, as they left the museum. The two boys were sniggering together behind them as they walked arm in arm down the hill.
    For the rest of the day, and all the next day, Desmond and Robin kept together, leaving the girls to each other's company, implying that if that was how it was to be for the siesta, that was how it had better be all the time. The girls were well aware of this message, and it made them restive and unhappy. At dinner Robin and Desmond talked animatedly about the molecular structure of clay and its possible application to the dating of fertility whatnots, and in the bodega afterwards they pursued the same topic over Green Chartreuse. Two young Americans in violently checked Bermuda shorts asked politely if they might sit at the same table, for the bar was crowded, and were drawn into the discussion. Robin and Desmond described the treasures of the Ibiza museum in eloquent detail, while the two Americans grinned at the two girls.
    “We can't go on like this,” said Sally that night.
    “But we can't change our minds,” said Joanna. “Can we?”
    “I've been thinking,” said Sally,” it would be different if we were engaged.”
    “Yes,” said Joanna thoughtfully, “it would, wouldn't it.”
     
    So the next day they all got engaged. It was unofficial - they would wait till they got home to tell their parents - but it was quite properly done. Each girl chose a cheap ring, “to be going on with” from a stall in the market, and wore it proudly on her third finger. In the evening they had a celebration dinner in a restaurant, and sentimentally held hands between courses. The two Americans, who happened to be in the same restaurant, noticed the rings and offered their congratulations.
    “I'm ever so glad we decided to get engaged,” said Joanna to Desmond the following afternoon. “Aren't you, Des?”
    “Oh yes.”
    “Not just so we can siesta together?”
    “'Course not.”
    “It's different, somehow, being definitely engaged. I mean, before, I was never quite sure whether we weren't just doing it for pleasure. But now I know it's for love.”
    “Pleasure too.”
    “Oh, yes, pleasure too. Oh, Des!”
    “Oh, Jo!”
     
    “Goodness,” Sally murmured, averting her eyes, “you look just like a fertility whatnot.”
    “I feel like one,” said Robin.
     
    It was not long before they all realised that they had not solved their problem but merely raised the price of its solution. One fateful question hung over their waking hours, and their hours were many, for they discussed it late into the hot nights.
    “Sal.”
    “Yes?”
    “We nearly did it today.”
    “We nearly do it every day.”
    “No, I mean really. I told Des, 'If you want to, I couldn't stop you.'”
    “Gosh, what happened?”
    “Well, he was ever so sweet. He said, 'I'll give you ten to think it over', and went and sat on the other bed.”
    “And?”
    “When he'd finished counting, I'd sort of come round.”
     
    “Didn't you wish you'd counted faster?” said Robin.
    “Not really,” said Desmond. “I sobered up myself. I began to think, what if Jo got pregnant? I mean, we're no nearer to getting married than we were last week.”
    “It's about time those things came from the New Statesman place,” said Robin. “There's not much time left.”
     
    “Well, there aren't many days left now, anyhow,” said Joanna. “It will be easier when we get back to England.”
    “Yes, everything seems different Abroad.”
    “'What men call gallantry and gods adultery...'”
    “It would be fornication, not adultery,” said Sally, who was getting rather tired of this quotation.
     
    The next day, Desmond received a plain brown envelope in the mail and took it to his room, followed eagerly by Robin.
    “There's nothing in it,”