Nine Days

I can imagine [Mrs. Husting’s] face close to the keyhole. She’s been pacing up and down the hall for the best part of ten minutes. She’s imagining what she might be disturbing. She is unsure how to mother a grown man.

“A girl photographer.” [Francis] raises his arms and pulls on the clothesline, which explains its condition. “That’s stupid.”

Although even then, Mum says, Kip will never make anything of himself, (“that’s plain”), and if we have to send boys to fight overseas—here she gives me a nervous glance—“it’s layabout boys with no responsibilities, the Kip Westaways of the world, who ought to be going.”

From what [Kip] says, it seems like all kinds of stupid things had to be kept secret back then. When he says that his sister didn’t die from the flu, Stanzi just nods. Charlotte gets on her high horse about ridiculous sexist taboos and lies and nothing to be ashamed of. Grandma [Annabel] smiles. You can’t imagine what it was like back then, she says. So much pain, all covered over.

It seems that all my life I’ve had nothing I’ve desired and I’ve given up having desires at all. Now I know what it feels like to want and I’ll give anything to have it.

The secret to happiness is to be grateful. I think about Ma [Jean], widowed with three children, and Nan who was a slave all her life, first in domestic service and then to Pop, then back to the ironing factory when she was widowed. I have a wonderful job. I have my mother and Francis, and I have Kip my darling Kip.

And here is the most wonderful thing of all. I have had one night with the man of my heart and, just this once, I have had something that I wanted.