Back Second Fiddle
Chapters (6)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. PART IAutumn
  4. PART IIWinter
  5. PART IIIA Year Later
  6. About the Author

Tucking into the risotto, salad, fruit, cheese and excellent coffee, Claud forgave his parent her defection. Why should she not live where she pleased? If he made an effort, he could reach her here. He would not stay too long, though, in case the conversation slipped into the personal; she might link him with Mavis or make some reference to Amy. He could not possibly tell her that Amy was transformed into someone quite else. As he listened to his mother the part of his mind which concentrated on his novel began to question whether there were not parts of it mulched with sentimentality. What was it about his mother made him think this? She was having an effect similar to Laura’s. Not, of course, the Laura in bed, there was no way he could imagine his mother making use of her legs as Laura did.

Margaret saw Claud smile, did not ask what the joke might be; she was happy that their shaky relationship was improved. She thought enviously of other parents who had secure relationships with their young, a constant exchange of confidences. As they talked she was content to remain in the shallows. It was quite amusing not to ask about Laura, to listen to Claud being cocky and adult, not quite as in love with himself as he had been. She did not, when it was time to go, press him to stay. She watched him drive away, waved at the departing car and as she did so remembered the old man in the lane, poor pitiful creature, and was curiously reminded of Claud newborn, a red and skinny infant, shaken by screams, his balls huge, out of all proportion to his size. She decided to put a pound in the collection next time she went to church and forget the incident in the lane.

She was glad Claud had been the first to make a move, to seek her out; it was almost as if they had quarrelled. Perhaps they had. She hoped he would come again. He is not too like his father, she thought as she washed the dishes. I shall go to those lectures on psychology. I may be too late to learn how to cope with a manic-depressive husband, but I can learn to understand Claud.