The Accidental Woman Read Free Page A

could tell him, for example, of her success, without embarrassment, simply because there would be no danger of his displaying the least excitement. Many were the secrets which Maria had told Sefton, because she knew that they would mean nothing to him, and many were the little items of news which she had tried out on him, in order to gain strength from the astonishing nonchalance with which he would hear and ignore them. Every family should keep a cat, for this very reason.
    She sat with Sefton on her lap, talking to him of this and that, while he slept, her day at school, her hopes and fears, her quiet desires, until her father returned from work and she was called down to dinner. The family ate dinner in the kitchen. Maria’s mother had heated up four pies, which she served with mashed potato and tomato ketchup. Her father consumed his food noisily, trailing his tie in the gravy, while her brother sat withdrawn, too shy and unhappy even to speak. He took small and regular mouthfuls. Maria waited until the meal was half eaten before telling them.
    ‘Mother, I have some news,’ she said.
    They laid down their forks in unison.
    ‘I passed the exam. I will be going to Oxford next year.’
    Here you are to imagine a short scene of family jubilation, I’m buggered if I can describe one.
    Her father congratulated her, and praised her cleverness.
    Her mother said that it was wonderful news, and told her that she must be very excited.
    Her brother remained silent, but grinned.
    ‘You will never look back now, darling,’ her mother continued. ‘This is the very opportunity that your father and I never had. Once you have had an education like that, nothing in life will ever be denied to you.’
    ‘You must work hard, and enjoy yourself,’ said her father. ‘Work hard, and enjoy yourself, and you can’t go wrong.’
    Her mother wanted to know if anyone else from the school would be going.
    ‘No girls. Three of the boys. Ronny passed too.’
    ‘Ronny will be there! How nice. You know, Maria, I’m sure that boy is very fond of you, and you could find a much worse husband, I’m sure of that.’
    ‘The girl’s only seventeen,’ said her father, ‘and you talk of marriage.’
    ‘Eighteen,’ said Maria.
    ‘Let her enjoy herself,’ said her father, ‘while she is in the full flush of youth. There’ll be plenty of time to think of marriage when she gets to Oxford.’
    ‘Ronny is such a nice boy,’ said her mother, ‘he has such nice manners, and he looks so smart in that nice school uniform, and if you ask me it is only a matter of time before those boils disappear altogether.’
    Maria’s father now rose from his chair, advanced towards Maria, and kissed her on the forehead. He had done nothing like it for a matter of weeks, perhaps months. She gave a faint and not entirely forced smile.
    ‘We must celebrate,’ he said. ‘Why don’t I go out to the off licence and buy us all a bottle of cider. Or we could go out to the pictures. And then at the weekend we shall go into town together and buy you a nice present. What do you say, Maria?’
    But once the initial flurry had subsided, it turned out to be an evening like any other. Bobby was the first to leave the table, for his family frightened him and he could not wait to escape upstairs, where solitary, secret pleasures awaited him. Following his departure, there was a long silence.
    ‘I have homework to do,’ said Maria.
    ‘We must not stop the girl doing her homework,’ said her father, ‘however proud we are of her.’
    He started to do the washing up.
    Maria, meanwhile, sat in her room, thinking, dreaming, waiting. It was a winter’s night like any other. From downstairs she heard the noise of the television, from outside she heard the bare branches of the rose bush as they tapped against her window. Sometimes she drew back the curtain and looked out, at the passing headlights, and at the road which would grow frosty, and at the stars, or, if they