Smile by Deborah Moggach

Author:Deborah Moggach
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781448166107
Publisher: Random House

• Horse Sense •

WHEN I FIRST moved to the estate my only companions were Terry Wogan and a horse. Terry was just on the radio, but the horse was real enough. It was a big brown thing that lived in a field at the end of my garden. I’m not used to horses but soon it was hanging its heavy head over my fence and I was feeding it chapatis. At first it alarmed me, baring its slimy yellow teeth, stained like a smoker’s.

I come from London. So does my husband. But we moved to this place near Swindon because it’s Silicon Valley and he was making his way in the world. I was proud of him then.

The estate was full of children. They passed fast on their skate-boards; their laughter made my chest hurt. Sometimes, waiting for the bus, there would be a little girl standing in front of me and I felt weak, from wanting to touch her hair.

The neighbours weren’t really unfriendly. We just didn’t have that much in common, me having no kids. I don’t think it was to do with prejudice – after all, I didn’t go around in a sari or anything. I was born and bred in England, the same as them. We didn’t perform weird rites. The only thing Ranjit worshipped was the silicon chip.

I talked to the horse when I was hanging out my washing. It might have looked funny otherwise. I had these one-way conversations behind the flapping sheets. I told it what I was cooking for dinner, and what was going on in EastEnders. One day I said to it, quite distinctly: ‘I think I’m going mad.’

That was the day I had been to the shoe shop in Swindon and made such a fool of myself. The horse went on eating, of course, and flicked away a fly.

I should have told my husband but he didn’t like disturbance. He’s older than me – he had been a bachelor for years and his family had started to despair. The grey flecks in his hair gave him a weighty look, as if he had deeper thoughts than me. So I cooked and cleaned the house – when he saw a smeary surface he cleared his throat – and, before the panics got too bad, I took the bus into Swindon and went to Marks & Spencers. I had been married two years.

I’m probably making him sound unattractive. I knew I would. But he was kind. He was always buying me gadgets for the kitchen. Have you tried a microwave? I only used it once, and after that I pretended. He would spear a baked potato and pronounce: ‘Ten minutes. A miracle.’ I would lower my eyes; in marriage you learn to be silent.

He liked things with digital numbers; our house bleeped like a space-ship. He fiddled with the video recorder and indexed all our tapes. From the back I could see the small boy he once was. I wanted to touch him then, but he only handled me in the dark.

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