The Philosopher's Pupil Read Free Page A

and above which, usually, they were able to look at each other calmly enough.
    Gabriel did not feel calm now. She had always known and feared George’s capacity to introduce absolute disorder into all their lives. George could destroy us all, she sometimes felt, and sometimes, George wants to destroy us all. Of course this was irrational, though it was equally irrational to regard George as simply ‘accident prone’. How I hate bullies, Gabriel thought, thank heavens I’m not married to one.
    Father Bernard Jacoby had telephoned Brian and Gabriel on the previous night to tell them about the accident, the car in the canal, Stella and George safe, Stella in hospital, George gone home. He suggested (to Brian’s relief and Gabriel’s disappointment) that it was too late for visits, both of the victims would be asleep. It was now nine o’clock in the morning. Stella, in a private room, was propped up in bed. She had a black eye and a cracked rib and what the nurse called ‘severe shock’. George had not answered telephone calls. Brian was going round to see him.
    â€˜Please stop crying,’ said Gabriel, ‘you are tiring yourself and upsetting me.’ This firm calm manner, unnatural to Gabriel, was how her sister- In-law preferred to be addressed.
    Stella had been crying into a handkerchief. She now laid this aside and revealed her wet swollen bruised face, shocking to Gabriel. Stella began rolling her head to and fro upon the pillow, visibly trying to control her respiration. Gabriel touched her arm lightly. Stella did not like hugging and kissing. Gabriel had never kissed her.
    â€˜Shall I stay, shall I talk to you?’
    â€˜Tell me something.’ The stream had abated, though Stella kept blinking tears out of her eyes.
    Gabriel, who was good at decoding, knew that this meant: tell me anything. ‘It’s a sunny day. You can’t see from here, but the sun’s shining.’
    â€˜Did you come by car?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Where did you park?’
    â€˜In the hospital car park, there’s plenty of room.’
    â€˜You’ve got a new dress.’
    â€˜I bought it in Bowcocks sale. Do you know, you can see the High Street from the window, and the Botanic Garden and the Institute — ’
    â€˜I haven’t looked.’
    â€˜How are you feeling?’
    â€˜Terrible.’
    â€˜What happened? Or would you rather —?’
    â€˜George was drunk. He jumped out. Then he pulled me out.’
    â€˜All’s well that ends well,’ said Gabriel, who hoped that this banality would irritate Stella into saying something more.
    â€˜It was my fault,’ said Stella.
    â€˜I know that’s not true.’
    The family often discussed Stella’s situation, how she put up with George’s tantrums and his infidelity, how she persistently imagined that her love would cure him. She kept hoping, looking for little signs. Gabriel thought, it’s odd how stupid a clever person can be. She feels that not blaming George will somehow make him improve.
    â€˜I argued,’ said Stella. ‘I said a particular thing that annoyed him. Then the car went out of control.’
    â€˜He’s easily annoyed!’
    â€˜George was crazy as a fox last night.’
    â€˜Always was, always will be. One day he’ll go too far.’
    â€˜If he ever does he’ll get better.’
    â€˜You mean repentant?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜You always make excuses for him, he can get away with anything, he’s always forgiven and first of all by you!’
    â€˜It’s my privilege to be first.’
    What a hypocrite she is, thought Gabriel, and yet she’s sincere. Can there be sincere hypocrites? Yes, and they’re the most maddening of all. There was no doubt that Stella was an odd fish, an alien, a changeling. She was a handsome tall strong woman. She sees him as a challenge, thought Gabriel, she sees it as a