Then Sis said she’d never really understood about the Virgin Mary, wasn’t there something tricky about it? Jane, who’d studied religion, explained how the Immaculate Conception had to do with Mary’s conception by her mother, rather than hers of Christ, as was frequently assumed. Still, the virgin part was right.

Why the Catholics make such a big deal about a technicality I don’t know, said Marian Wiggin. As far as I’m concerned, the — you know — well, it’s no bigger a thing than going to the loo.

It’s not as bad as all that, said Dolly.

Irene was staring at the stone geranium urns through the terrace doors. A woman should be able to enjoy it as much as a man, she said.

Lilian gazed at her, hoping she’d go on.

Certainly she can, said Dolly who considered herself up to date on women’s emancipation.

You mean the lovely shivery thing? said Sis Sedgwick, thrilled she could add something at last. Oh yes, it is quite something!

The company regarded her with silent astonishment. Sex was a dubious enough place and putting Sis Sedgwick in it was most astonishing.

Irene’s cigarette floated through the air in her limp hand, seeking an ashtray, but her face was mesmerized by Sis, and she managed to knock the ashtray to the floor. Irene gazed down at it for a moment: the spilled ashes, the thin slivers of glass. Then she began to pick them up.

Oh, don’t bother, Sis said. Just leave it. But she got down on her knees as well. You’ll only cut yourself — we’ll get Jonesy — oh, my dear, you have!

Irene looked at her hand curiously. Lilian grabbed hold of her — she heard Marian whisper, It was her third — and led Irene by the arm to the downstairs bathroom. Irene was strangely unruffled.

They ran her finger under cold water. Irene washed her hand and dried it recklessly with a towel, refusing a bandage. She threw the towel down and turned to face Lilian.

I — she began — I find it’s more and more difficult to say something which matches up with what’s in my head. Isn’t that silly?

They went back and joined the ladies. When Jonesy came in with more hot water for the pot, she brushed past Irene who jumped in terror. The ladies politely ignored her, but Lilian kept watching her face.

45 • Probably just a raccoon

45 • Probably just a raccoon

THE FIRE in the fireplace purred like a fan. Lilian sat across from Gilbert.

Not reading? she said.

Gilbert shook his head and stared into the flames. His eyes grew rounder and rounder.

Tired? she asked.

He shook his head in the same way. Twigs hit against the windowpane and the wind howled in the chimney.

What was that? said Gilbert, starting in alarm.

Lilian sat up. I don’t hear —

Ssshhh, he said. They both listened.