The View From Here
The View From Here
“How pedestrian that sounds now. How suburban. But it was something then, because I wanted it to be. I kissed him back. Tom was single at the time—he had divorced his first wife and had not yet met Alice, who is his second—but I was not. But, just for a moment, at that nightlit draining board, Ella Fitzgerald and Sonia’s laughter in the background, I wanted to be, wanted to give in to the feel of unfamiliar lips on mine, unfamiliar hands at my waist.
It had not been long since Phillip had hurt m...e, betrayed me, I half believed, with Anthea, and compounded that betrayal by clinging pointedly to his injured attitude. Rethinking the whole business, after the row had dwindled to a bicker and then to a silence that had refilled again, drip by drip, with life’s undramatic business, I realized that his protests had focused predominantly on detail. He had been like a child accused of stealing biscuits when in fact he has stolen cake. Phillip had clung to the flotsam of my mistakes, the pinpoints I had got wrong, in stating his case, and left the dark undertow that had buoyed them intact.MoreLess
It had not been long since Phillip had hurt m...e, betrayed me, I half believed, with Anthea, and compounded that betrayal by clinging pointedly to his injured attitude. Rethinking the whole business, after the row had dwindled to a bicker and then to a silence that had refilled again, drip by drip, with life’s undramatic business, I realized that his protests had focused predominantly on detail. He had been like a child accused of stealing biscuits when in fact he has stolen cake. Phillip had clung to the flotsam of my mistakes, the pinpoints I had got wrong, in stating his case, and left the dark undertow that had buoyed them intact.MoreLess
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