Page 5 of A Good Heart is Hard to Find
But then, no one else had tempted me seriously in all these years, so even were I to ditch Max I would still have most of the disadvantages. Besides, whenever I got fed up with things as they were I only had to see him again and I was putty in his hands.
This charisma, Svengali touch, or whatever you want to call it, was not something that worked well via occasionaltransatlantic phone calls.
In the grip of a depression like a dank fog I resorted to desperate measures.
‘It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man of over forty is in possession of amajordefect,’ Orla stated, walking past me into the cottage and flinging her coat and bag on to the nearest chair.
Then she stared glumly at her reflection in the mirror over the fireplace.
‘Yes,just as I thought,’ she said. ‘Hair blond to the roots, curves in all the right places, minimal crow’s feet, luscious lips, big, baby-blue eyes. What a waste!’
‘Do I take it that your Perfect Partner wasn’t?’
‘Forty-six and still lives with Mummy. I’ve had every variety of unmarried man now: divorced, for which read rejected by wife for a very good reason; Mummy’s Little Boy, like tonight, andWidowed, Wizened and Smug, like last week’s offering.’
‘You haven’t had Reclusive or Gay yet,’ I pointed out helpfully.
‘They don’t join dating agencies – or at least, not Perfect Partners. What’s that you’re drinking?’
‘Max’s bottle of Laphroaig from under the sink.’
‘I thought you didn’t like whisky?’
‘I’d never tried it before, because Pa’s drinking spirits put me off the idea. But it’slike gold: hot liquid gold.’
‘Very poetic. I’ll have some. Got any ginger?’
‘You can’t put ginger in good whisky!’
‘You can if your friend’s snooty lover isn’t there to see you do it.’
She kicked off the stiletto shoes that had raised her to the level of my chin, then curled up on the sofa. ‘Phew, that’s better! You know, it’s simply impossible to believe in the theory of evolution, becauseif it was true by now women’s feet would naturally have pointed toes and thin, four-inch heelbones.’
‘Mine wouldn’t, I’ve been wearing those Nanook of the North knee-length suede moccasin boots all winter. And Maxisn’tsnooty!’
‘Of course he is, and he’s getting worse the older he gets. He’s turning into a boring old fogy right under your nose. Just think about it,’ she added earnestly. ‘Thesudden passion for golf, imagining he looks good in Rupert Bear trousers, droning on about why expensive wine is the only sort worth drinking, trying to get you to write literary novels instead of the horror you’re so brilliant at: I rest my case. Come on, let’s be young and reckless and desecrate his whisky!’
‘You’re an idiot,’ I said, pouring her drink. ‘And Max isn’t like that at all!’
Butthen I actuallythoughtabout what I was saying instead of letting my mouth run on automatic pilot and realized she was right: ‘OK, yes he is – and selfish, too! Why hadn’t I noticed that before?’
I took another swig of whisky, which was helpfully reconnecting parts of my brain that had long since stopped communicating with each other even by semaphore. Laphroaig Gets You Clean Round the Bend.
‘Until he took himself off for this sabbatical thing, I’d just been drifting along never really questioning anything, Orla. I mean, I did all the agonizing years ago when I fell in love with him and realized he couldn’t leave Rosemary, and once I was committed to the relationship I suppose it was just like a long marriage, where the changes are so gradual you don’t notice them.’
‘Except itwasn’ta marriage, and it’s a bit significant that he took his wife to America with him and not you,’ Orla pointed out helpfully. ‘You’re still only The Mistress even after all these years. Or maybebecauseof all these years? Your novelty’s worn off.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Well, it’s no worse than me, is it? Dumped for a younger model, and destined to be divorced, single and desperate for ever. I’m a Trade-in,and you’re a slightly tarnished Spinster of This Parish.’
Since we seemed to have empty glasses I poured us both another generous measure of peaty goodness.
‘At least you still have parents who love you, Orla. Mine always treated me like a changeling or a cuckoo in the nest, just because I took after my gypsy great-grandmother, and then they cast me out entirely when they found out about Max.’
‘Yes,’ she conceded. ‘Though Daddy can’t always remember who I am these days.’
‘Iwas an unwanted throw-back for the first half of my life, and I’ve been a married man’s mistress for the second. That’s not going to look good on my tombstone, is it?’
