Getting a Life by Helen Simpson

Author:Helen Simpson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780307426017
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2007-12-18T05:00:00+00:00

That sort of love, the sort that moved Burns to poetry, it’s like the sea. It ebbs and flows. It doesn’t last. What remains when it’s over? Why, the poetry, of course. And the babies.”

“Oh dear,” said Nicola to Iain, wiping her eyes, while the applause died down around them. “That was sad. That poor woman Jean.”

“Och aye, bonny Jean,” said Iain. “These days she’d have been a teleworker for the bank, right enough.”

“More security in that than in farming,” said Nicola.

“Security. Babies. I don’t know.” Iain shook his head and poured more whiskey. “I’m no being rude, Nicola, but can I ask you something? Why do you have four? We’ve got the three and that’s as much as Susan can cope with, and she doesn’t work.” Nicola was used to men asking this question. Usually it came with the unspoken accusation that she was just being greedy, which was a bit rich coming from a banker as it so often did. Because I want them and I can afford them, she felt like saying; because I’m thinking of the future, when I retire at fifty; because, more life; because—why not?

But this man was not attacking her, he was in his befuddled way genuinely curious.

“I would never have had so many if I’d had to stay at home and look after them myself,” she said, as she always said, to take the heat off. Then she continued, less guarded because she liked this man, “I mean, I was tempted during my third pregnancy to take some time off. Charlie was seriously worried about the mortgage, I can tell you. I’d had a bad run of nannies. I’d missed all Jade’s sports days and prize-givings that year because of work. But as soon as the scan showed it was twins, that did it. I knew I’d be back at work as soon as I could crawl out of the house. Twins!”

“Susan says a nanny wouldn’t be the same,” Iain persisted. He was pushing it now. “She says they want her there.”

“Yes they’d prefer a mother at home,” said Nicola crisply. “But I couldn’t do that. I’m their mother, that’s what they’ve got.”

Iain sat, shaking his head dolefully and staring into his glass. Irritated, Nicola shifted in her seat and turned towards Donald.

“You’ll be looking forward to the Reply from the Lassies,” he said.

“More?” said Nicola in horror, without thinking. He laughed.

“This should be the last. Truly.”

In the distance a young woman could be seen standing at the microphone consulting her notes.

“Isn’t that Fiona MacPherson’s new assistant?” asked Donald, leaning over her towards Iain. She felt his weight against her arm. “Fiona MacPherson that’s head of HR at the Auld Scotia?”

“Don’t mess with that MacPherson woman, I’m telling you,” said Iain, mournfully shaking his head. Drink turned him into a clown, noticed Nicola.

“Behind every successful man there’s a woman,” began the young woman at the microphone, and her voice was surprisingly loud and clear. “Behind every successful woman is . . . what? That is the question I’d like to consider this Burns Night.

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