Still Waters Read Free

day school she was helping to organize at Broadway came up, was she really animated.
    â€œNot sure what I think about all this, Charlie,” Alex said, pointing at Resnick with his fork. “What is it, Jane? Something about women and television, women and the media? Where d’you stand on that, Charlie, seminars on popular culture? Some academic from the university giving forth about stereotypes and the like.”
    Resnick passed.
    â€œPersonally,” Alex went on, “I’d sooner slob out in front of EastEnders without thinking I was going to be interrogated about its gender issues the minute it was over.”
    Jane could scarcely wait for him to finish. “That’s nonsense, Alex, and you know it. For one thing, you never slob in front of the TV, you’ve just read about other people doing it, and for another, you jump at the opportunity to intellectualize absolutely anything faster than anyone I know.” She stared at him, defiant. “And just to set the record straight, it’s about women and sexual violence and it’s in next month’s program. Hannah, you should get Charlie to come along, I think he might enjoy it.”
    Hannah smiled and said that she would see.
    Alex leaned toward Jane and deposited a kiss on the side of her neck.
    The risotto was followed by pork loin with red cabbage and sweet potatoes, crème brûlée , and a plethora of cheeses.
    â€œDo you cook yourself, Charlie?” Alex asked, helping himself to more wine. “Master of the nouvelle cuisine? ”
    â€œCan’t say as I get much of a chance.”
    â€œLucky to find a woman then who can. Who can do it as well as this.” Alex raised his glass. “Hannah, we owe you a vote of thanks.”
    Jane reached over and squeezed her hand and Resnick wondered why he should be feeling embarrassed on Hannah’s behalf when she obviously seemed so pleased.
    â€œAnd now,” Alex said, “if you could pass me a smidgen more of that delicious cheese. Yes, that’s it, the Vignote.”
    They took their coffee through into the living room and Hannah surprised Resnick by playing the Billie Holiday compilation he had given her for her birthday and which she seemed to have ignored ever since.
    â€œThis doesn’t sound like you,” Jane remarked with a smile, Billie stalking her way through “They Can’t Take That Away from Me.”
    â€œCharlie gave it to me.”
    â€œEducating you, is he?” said Alex.
    â€œNot exactly.”
    â€œWell, I like it anyway,” Jane said. “Don’t you, Alex?”
    Alex jinked his cup against its saucer. “All right for selling lipstick to, I suppose, Italian cars. Modishly moody. Just a shame she can’t really sing.”
    Resnick bit his tongue.
    Hannah had lit candles, three of them in glass holders, and they burned with a thick vanilla scent. The bed was in the center of the attic room, low between rugs, two pine chests of drawers. A cloud of orange city light spun down from twin skylights, angled toward each other from either side of the sloping roof.
    Resnick had washed the dinner things, Hannah had dried and put away. They had sat ten minutes longer in the front room, enjoying the silence, the virtual dark. Now Hannah was on her side, knees pulled up under the hem of the oversize T-shirt she wore in bed, and Resnick lay close in behind her, one arm running along the pillow between Hannah’s shoulder and chin.
    â€œSo?”
    â€œSo what?”
    â€œWas it as awful as you thought?”
    â€œWho said I thought it would be awful?”
    â€œOh, Charlie, come on! Your face, your voice, everything about you. You were mooching around downstairs before they came like someone waiting for—I don’t know—something dreadful.”
    â€œLike waiting for the dentist, you mean.”
    â€œFunny!”
    Resnick edged forward a touch more and angled his arm downward so his hand