The Essence of the Thing - Madeleine John St.

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with them.’

      ‘Some people would call that masochism.’

      ‘Oh.’

      The abyss opened up before her. Who knew what anything meant, exactly? How far into that darkness would one have to fall, or painstakingly climb, before one discovered meaning and truth – even assuming that they were, ultimately, there to be found? She scrambled as far away from the edge as she presently could.

      ‘The trouble is,’ she said, ‘that one goes on fancying a person. No matter how badly they might behave.’

      ‘Yes, that is the trouble, alright,’ said Susannah. ‘That’s all the trouble.’

      ‘It must be a sort of trick,’ said Nicola, wondering. ‘To make sure that we go on reproducing, no matter what. Not that sex these days has anything to do with reproduction; but still.’

      ‘We’re hooked up to the old mechanism, nevertheless. It’s a mean old trick alright.’

      They were both silent for a while. Susannah at last very tentatively spoke. ‘Did this thing last night,’ she said, ‘really come out of the blue? Had you really no idea that it might be in his mind?’

      Nicola didn’t answer immediately She was trying to collect her memories and her thoughts. ‘There have been a few rat-like moments,’ she said. ‘But nothing like this. Nothing suggesting this.’ She paused again, and sat, thinking. ‘Perhaps I’ve been simply obtuse,’ she said slowly.

      ‘I always think it’s better to be obtuse than paranoid,’ said Susannah.

      Nicola smiled wanly. ‘At least the paranoid are always prepared,’ she said. ‘For the worst, I mean.’

      ‘Were you prepared for the best?’ asked her friend. There, at last, clearly, it was. ‘Yes,’ said Nicola. ‘I thought it was only a matter of time, I mean, not very much time, before we’d decide to marry.’

      ‘Marriage being “the best”, eh?’

      ‘It must be, mustn’t it?’

      ‘Until we think of something even better.’

      ‘What could that be?’

      ‘Ah, if we only knew.’

      Guy entered the room. ‘Tell us,’ said Susannah, ‘what could be better than marriage, Guy?’ ‘Salvation,’ he replied. His elders howled. ‘Where do you learn these words?’ asked Susannah. ‘I learned that in RE,’ said Guy. ‘I’m not sure exactly what it means, but it’s meant to be very good, so it might be better than marriage.’

      ‘Can’t you have both?’

      ‘Well, I suppose so, but salvation is still probably the better of the two.’

      ‘The better of the two,’ repeated Susannah. ‘Very good, Guy. Very good.’ ‘OK,’ he said. He now remembered what he had come in for. ‘Can I have another caramel?’

       8

      ‘What’s your dad doing?’

      ‘Watching telly.’

      ‘Take him a caramel then.’

      The child departed and the two women sat looking at each other for a moment. ‘Lucky you,’ Nicola sighed. ‘Your turn will come,’ said Susannah.

      ‘Do you really think so?’

      ‘Yes, of course I do. As soon as you get shot of that rat.’

      Nicola’s face was a portrait of misery. She did not want to get shot of Jonathan; her present situation was so intolerable that it could not truly be pondered, or even admitted: even here, now, with Susannah, she could look only at its edges, not at the excruciating whole.

      ‘Jonathan isn’t a rat really,’ she said, almost wildly. ‘He isn’t – it’s just – something’s gone wrong somewhere. I mean, it’s probably my fault. I just haven’t had a chance to talk to him properly. I don’t know what’s in his mind. It must be my fault: I must have done something wrong.’

      ‘He should have told you what it was, then, when you did it, not waited, and then – this.’

      ‘Yes, well, it’s difficult for him – he’s – you know – perhaps he was too shocked, or confused – I don’t know.’

      She broke off, near to tears again. ‘Listen, darling,’ said Susannah, ‘he may or may not be a fully paid-up rat but he’s landed you in it good and proper, causing grief to you and consternation to your friends. As far as I’m concerned, if he doesn’t shape up and talk this through to your mutual satisfaction as soon as he gets back from his cowardly weekend away, then the thing for you to do is to eff off out of the place immédiatement and leave him to it. Just pack a bag and go. I don’t know what your alternatives may be but you know you’re entirely welcome to come and crash here until you get sorted. But I mean, no pissing about. Either he shapes up and explains himself and makes a most profound apology and a guarantee of no further similar scenes – that is, if you really do want as you say to stay with him – or you get the fuck out of his rat-like way. You can sleep in my workroom. I’ll even clear some space for your things. I can’t say fairer than that.’

      ‘You’re an angel,’ said Nicola miserably. ‘But I can only hope that I won’t need to take advantage of your generosity.’

      ‘Never mind that: just promise me that you won’t hang about. I mean it. I know rats. If there’s one thing they love to do, it’s prolong the agony. Do you promise? You’ll telephone me on Monday evening, alright, at the latest Tuesday, either to assure me that the situation’s sorted out, or to say that you’re on the way here: is that understood?’

      ‘You’re an angel.’

      ‘Yes,’ said Susannah, ‘that’s me, definitely.’

       9

      Nicola had gone home in a taxi, Guy had gone to bed, Susannah was washing up and Geoffrey was hovering in her vicinity, giving an impression of helpfulness.

      ‘What’s she going to do, then?’ he said.

      ‘I don’t know. It’s too soon to decide.’

      ‘Too soon?’ How long does it take? He’s told her to push off, it doesn’t seem to me that there’s anything to hang about for.’

      ‘Ah, little do you know.’

      ‘So tell me.’

      ‘Well, doesn’t it occur to you that he’s obviously had a rush of blood to the head, or something of the kind? I mean, to suddenly come along and give an order like that, for no evident reason – well, it’s perfectly mad.’

      ‘Oh – so you think this is just a fit of temporary insanity. Total withdrawal of affection while the balance of his mind was disturbed.’

      ‘Well, it might be. Something like that, anyway. I mean, it was so awfully sudden, so unforseen—’

      ‘We have only Nicola’s word for that.’

      ‘Well, one has to trust her version in the absence of any others.’

      ‘Alright, for the sake of the argument, it’s totally sudden and unforeseen and therefore possibly irrational. But who wants to go on living with a bloke who can behave like that?’

      ‘Nicola does.’

      ‘Then she must be mad too. They’re a dangerous pair.’

      ‘Then

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