leaving together. (He had plenty of
time to observe the disordered comings and goings of the patients while he was waiting.) What had surprised him was that he
was not present in their lives. Somehow he had imagined that Francine and John would be crippled by the knowledge of him,
that his spectral form would be visible between them, that they would be slipping away nervously, alarmed by the foolishness
of their actions; but no, they walked happily down the front steps of the hospital in Whitechapel and linked hands as they
turned down a side street. What hurt him most was that she appeared happy, carefree, girlish. Even her hair seemed to have
acquired new vivacity.
In another context, John might have looked to him like any other decent, utterly unremarkable English professional man, but
here, leaving the hospital with Conrad's wife, he had princely qualities. Here, he was a man known and admired for his pioneering
work on the incontinence in women caused by childbirth. Francine was a suitable tribute for his achievements.
She tried to dress up her defection as a gift from her to Conrad:
'I have a career, my career path is more or less fixed now, but you, you still have some growing up to do. I realised you
didn't want to be tied in this way. I am sure you will see it for the best in time.'
She always needed to tidy things up mentally, as if by naming them they were settled. It was — he thought - a scientific habit:
taxonomy applied to the emotional life.
'With my human qualities still unexplored.'
'What?'
'What you said about me and Mendel.'
'Yes,' she said impatiently. 'You and your human qualities.'
It was clear that she had come to this meeting determined to be brief and final. Her neck coloured again anxiously at the
delay.
'In medicine, we don't have enough time to investigate human qualities. We are too busy with human beings, in person.'
'And is John leaving his wife?'
'That's our business.'
'Is he too old to have more children?'
'Jesus, you can be offensive.'
'We were going to have a child, remember?'
'We were. But I had to delay, remember, when I got the research job and you found - what a surprise - that you weren't earning
as much as you expected when you went freelance.'
'Well, you're fine now as long as wifey doesn't take all his money.'
'I'm glad you said that, because you've reminded me that underneath all that airy-fairy charm you are just a vicious little
prick. People like you who sneer at honest endeavour and science and actually doing something for people, while reading the
fucking Guardian and having an opinion on everything, from politics to football, to, I don't know, immigration and the Iraq War, without really
having any in-depth knowledge of any sort, are the real worry for this country. Anyway, now you can go and explore your human
qualities in depth and at leisure.'
Francine asked him to leave as soon as the flat was sold - as she said, a free spirit can operate anywhere.
Mendel and von Gottberg had gone to Palestine for three weeks in the winter of 1933; he decided to follow in their footsteps.
He took a loan on his credit card. He was encouraged by the fact that the surrealists advocated depaysement, the policy of uprooting yourself from your home country, to increase your sensitivity and understanding, qualities he was
clearly in need of. Although he could only afford a week of depaysement, it seemed to him a good moment to go. The seventeen boxes of papers, which he had arranged and re-arranged and tried to catalogue,
reproached him with his lack of progress. The problem was that he was looking at the letters for a kind of meaning, some hints
from Mendel to him, perhaps some clues to his own destiny.
Actually he found that it wasn't that easy to go to Israel without friends or letters of introduction. The Israeli agents
at the airport questioned him closely about his motives and his intentions. He explained that he was going on
time to observe the disordered comings and goings of the patients while he was waiting.) What had surprised him was that he
was not present in their lives. Somehow he had imagined that Francine and John would be crippled by the knowledge of him,
that his spectral form would be visible between them, that they would be slipping away nervously, alarmed by the foolishness
of their actions; but no, they walked happily down the front steps of the hospital in Whitechapel and linked hands as they
turned down a side street. What hurt him most was that she appeared happy, carefree, girlish. Even her hair seemed to have
acquired new vivacity.
In another context, John might have looked to him like any other decent, utterly unremarkable English professional man, but
here, leaving the hospital with Conrad's wife, he had princely qualities. Here, he was a man known and admired for his pioneering
work on the incontinence in women caused by childbirth. Francine was a suitable tribute for his achievements.
She tried to dress up her defection as a gift from her to Conrad:
'I have a career, my career path is more or less fixed now, but you, you still have some growing up to do. I realised you
didn't want to be tied in this way. I am sure you will see it for the best in time.'
She always needed to tidy things up mentally, as if by naming them they were settled. It was — he thought - a scientific habit:
taxonomy applied to the emotional life.
'With my human qualities still unexplored.'
'What?'
'What you said about me and Mendel.'
'Yes,' she said impatiently. 'You and your human qualities.'
It was clear that she had come to this meeting determined to be brief and final. Her neck coloured again anxiously at the
delay.
'In medicine, we don't have enough time to investigate human qualities. We are too busy with human beings, in person.'
'And is John leaving his wife?'
'That's our business.'
'Is he too old to have more children?'
'Jesus, you can be offensive.'
'We were going to have a child, remember?'
'We were. But I had to delay, remember, when I got the research job and you found - what a surprise - that you weren't earning
as much as you expected when you went freelance.'
'Well, you're fine now as long as wifey doesn't take all his money.'
'I'm glad you said that, because you've reminded me that underneath all that airy-fairy charm you are just a vicious little
prick. People like you who sneer at honest endeavour and science and actually doing something for people, while reading the
fucking Guardian and having an opinion on everything, from politics to football, to, I don't know, immigration and the Iraq War, without really
having any in-depth knowledge of any sort, are the real worry for this country. Anyway, now you can go and explore your human
qualities in depth and at leisure.'
Francine asked him to leave as soon as the flat was sold - as she said, a free spirit can operate anywhere.
Mendel and von Gottberg had gone to Palestine for three weeks in the winter of 1933; he decided to follow in their footsteps.
He took a loan on his credit card. He was encouraged by the fact that the surrealists advocated depaysement, the policy of uprooting yourself from your home country, to increase your sensitivity and understanding, qualities he was
clearly in need of. Although he could only afford a week of depaysement, it seemed to him a good moment to go. The seventeen boxes of papers, which he had arranged and re-arranged and tried to catalogue,
reproached him with his lack of progress. The problem was that he was looking at the letters for a kind of meaning, some hints
from Mendel to him, perhaps some clues to his own destiny.
Actually he found that it wasn't that easy to go to Israel without friends or letters of introduction. The Israeli agents
at the airport questioned him closely about his motives and his intentions. He explained that he was going on
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