In Certain Circles by Elizabeth Harrower

Author:Elizabeth Harrower
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC019000, FIC044000, FIC025000
ISBN: 9781925095272
Publisher: The Text Publishing Company
Published: 2014-04-23T04:00:00+00:00

When nothing intervened, Russell drove Anna to and from work. The printery and the gallery were in the same fashionably decrepit area near the docks.

This habit started when she returned from a skiing holiday with a sprained ankle. Zoe said, ‘Stephen’s gone to Melbourne for a conference, but Russell can collect and deliver you. He’d be glad to.’ Zoe could not realise how almost comical, how almost very said, it was, that a third person should feel free to tell Anna anything about him. Even now, while hundreds of facts about their lives had never been exchanged, there was some way in which they knew each other so absolutely that facts were irrelevant, another person’s opinion of either a sort of arrogance, a rash effrontery.

Both had a capacity for deep and lasting friendship; neither saw why the other sex should be excluded because of property rights. Admittedly, affectionate regard, admiration, the discerning appreciation of another’s qualities were, for certain persons, volatile agents. But they had lived their particular lives. Their characters had formed a long time ago. There was no danger. For ages now, long after Anna’s ankle was forgotten, Russell had continued to drive her home at night when they both happened to be free. Lily had no objection: she was accustomed to his having multitudinous commitments; this was one among many.

In the beginning, there was innocent hilarity, raillery, an air of delight that her sprained ankle had resulted in this luck, this time spent travelling to and fro which was, somehow, so great a relief to them both. Their pleasure was perfectly harmless. Russell had known her, after all, since she was fifteen! Because of their recognition of each other, they had always fallen into close, familiar conversation when they were alone. With the confidence of those who know themselves well and feel the issues of their lives decided, quite without misgivings (they were not likely to underestimate what was owing to others), they had allowed themselves to enjoy the extraordinary ease of being together.

Gradually, something had gone wrong. They were like travellers in the Himalayas. Immensity, the momentous, surrounded them inescapably. They laughed too much; they talked too quickly, and too obviously at random. The silent immensity would not go away. Since they knew so exactly what was permissible, and were so scrupulous, they were dismayed by these changes, and could only begin to place heavier and heavier guards on their behaviour. Previously, their common awareness that they could not misunderstand each other made circumspection unnecessary. Now, it seemed that that very impossibility which had been the basis of the light-heartedness, the freedom spun between them, was what made watchfulness so essential.

Tonight, held up at a red light, Russell turned to her. ‘Is the exhibition sold out?’

‘You saw it.’

‘Yes. He’s going through a bad time. The four in the corner are best.’

She nodded emphatically, then looked ahead at the road.

He went on, ‘Zo and Stephen were marrying you off to John Trenchard.’

Anna said nothing. Then she said,

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