13

FRANCIS DID NOT approach the others with the plan; he had no need. The slow shift in our circumstances was more persuasive than any verbal argument. At the beginning we were all defiant. Our way of life suddenly seemed all the more precious for being under threat. We wanted to prove to ourselves and each other that the money was nothing, a toy that had amused us for a while, but which, had circumstances not overtaken us, we would in the end have discarded of our own accord. In recognition of services rendered, or perhaps out of simple affection, Lisa picked up some of the slack for Francis himself. She discreetly paid his bill at Haver and Sons, who had been importing illegal, unpasteurized Reblochon for him from France under the counter. She paid for a box of Romeo y Julietas at the tobacconist’s on Bridge Street, and dealt with his fine when the police caught him urinating on the new scale bronze sculpture of the city erected opposite the Senate House. The arresting officers knew and liked Francis, and they would probably have let him go, but his insistence that he was expressing a critical judgement antagonized them. But as the spring collections began to bud in the window displays around Market Square, an event that would normally have caused the seasonal migration of Francis and Jessica south to Bond Street, the two of them pulled last year’s clothes from the wardrobe with heavy hearts. Hemlines had climbed, patterns had shifted, and whilst such changes were all but meaningless to me, they felt them as keenly as the wind. We had a little trouble with the bookie at the dog track, who had been used to making Francis small extensions of credit, knowing his allowance was paid in monthly instalments. Again Lisa stepped in, but on this occasion she did not give so freely. She went for a private talk in Francis’s room, and though there was no acrimony when they emerged, I felt that an understanding had been reached between them that this was to be the last time. Having to be answerable to Lisa for his keep stung Francis; he had never before placed the burden of his habits on anyone but his father, and had perceived his allowance as no more than his due. To realize suddenly that he was the receiver of gifts and not the giver made him ashamed, and conscious for perhaps the first time of the seriousness of his position. After the incident with the bookie he avoided Lisa and all of us for some days. When he saw us his cheeks would become a darker black with a flush of embarrassment, and the wonderful innocence with which he had always regarded money began to crumble. This was particularly painful for us, as we saw that he did not regard his past generosity as any kind of mitigation against his current need to borrow money.