What Makes Women Happy. Fay Weldon
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She doesn’t want to be left alone.
But David says no, it’s a long drive, and his parents and the Down’s sister will be upset and he’ll need to concentrate on them. Better for Letty to stay and finish the wine and Henry will walk her home.
Letty feels more than a little insulted. Doesn’t it even occur to David to feel jealous? Is it that he trusts Letty or that he just doesn’t care what happens to her? And is he really going to Cardiff or is he just trying to get away from her? Perhaps he has a mistress and that’s why he doesn’t want to have a baby by her.
David goes and Letty and Henry are left together, both feeling abandoned, both feeling resentful.
Henry and Letty are the ones who love too much. Mara and David love too little. It gives them great power. Those who love least win.
Henry and Letty move out onto the balcony because the evening is so warm and the moon so bright they hardly need a candle to roll the joint. On warm days Mara likes to sit on this balcony to dry her hair. She’s lucky. All Mara has to do is dunk her hair in the basin and let it dry naturally and if falls heavy and silky and smooth. Mara is so lucky in so many respects.
And now Henry walks over to where Letty sits in the moonlight, all white silky skin and bare shoulders and pale-green linen shift which flatters her slightly dull complexion, and slides his hands over her shoulders and down almost to where her breasts start and then takes them away.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’
‘No, you shouldn’t,’ she says.
‘I wanted to,’ he said.
‘I wanted you to do it too. I think it’s the moon. Such a bright night. And see, there’s Venus beside her, shining bright.’
‘Good Lord!’ he says. ‘Think of the trouble!’
‘But life can get kind of boring,’ Letty says. She, the little radiographer, wants her excitements too. Thrum, thrum, thrum goes Mara, off in the Porsche! Why shouldn’t it be like that for Letty too? She deserves Henry. Mara doesn’t. She’d be nice to him. Letty’s skin is still alive to his touch and wanting more.
‘But we’re not going to, are we?’ he says.
‘No,’ says Letty. ‘Mara’s my friend.’
‘More to the point,’ he says, ‘David’s your partner.’
They think about this for a little while.
‘Cardiff and Cheshire,’ says Letty. ‘Too good to be true. That gives us all night.’
‘Where?’ asks Henry.
‘Here,’ says Letty.
All four have in the past had passing fantasies about what it would be like to share a bed and a life with the other – have wondered if, at the student party where they all met, Henry had paired off with Letty, David with Mara, what their lives would have been like. The fantasies have been quickly subdued in the interests of friendship and expediency. But Mara’s sheets are more expensive than Letty’s, her bed is broader. The City pays more than the NHS. Letty would love to sleep in Mara’s bed.
‘We could go to your place,’ says Henry. To elbow David out of his own bed would be very satisfactory. Henry is stronger and taller than David; Henry takes what he wants when he wants it. Henry has wit and cunning, the kind which enables you to steal another man’s woman from under his nose.
But Letty’s envy is stronger than Henry’s urge to crush his rivals. They agree to stay where they are. They agree this is greater than either of them. They share the e, looking into each other’s eyes as if they were toasting one another in some foreign land. It is in fact an aspirin, but since they both believe it’s ecstasy, it has the effect of relieving themselves of responsibility for their own actions. Who, drug-crazed, can help what they do?
They tear off each other’s clothes. Mara’s best and most seductive apricot chiffon nightie is under the pillow. Letty puts it on. Henry makes no objection. It is the one Mara wears, he has come to believe, when she means to refuse him. Too tired, too cross, just not interested. He pushes the delicate fabric up over Letty’s thighs with even more satisfaction. He doesn’t care if he tears it.
‘Shouldn’t you be wearing a condom?’ she asks.
‘I don’t like them,’ he says.
‘Neither do I,’ she says.
For ten minutes Letty is supremely happy. The dark, rich places of the flesh unfold and surround her with forgetfulness. She is queen of all places and people. She can have as many men as she wants, just snap her fingers and there they are. She has infinite power. She feels wholly beautiful, consummately desired, part of the breathing, fecund universe, at one with the Masai girl, the Manhattan bride, every flower that ever stooped to mix its pollen, every bird that sings its joy to heaven. And every one of Henry’s plunges is a delightful dagger in Mara’s heart, his every powerful thrust a reproach to pallid, cautious David.
Then Letty finds herself shifting out of a blissful present into a perplexing future. She’s worrying about the sheets. This is condom-less sex. What about stains? Will Mara notice? She could launder them – there’s a splendid washer-dryer in the utility room, but supposing it broke down mid-wash? Henry could possibly argue that he spilt wine on the sheets – as indeed he has, and honey too, now she comes to think of it. She is very sticky. Can Mara’s chiffon nightie be put in the machine or must it be hand washed?
‘Is something the matter?’ he asks.
‘No,’ she says.
But she no longer feels safe. Supposing Mara gets a call from her family on the way to Cheshire and turns back? Supposing she and Henry are discovered? Why is she doing this? Is she mad?
Her body shudders in spite of herself. She rather resents it. An orgasm crept up on her when she was trying to concentrate on important things. She decides sex is just mechanical. She’d rather have David, anyway. His penis is less effective and smaller than Henry’s, but it’s familiar and feels right. David must never find out about this. Perhaps she doesn’t want a baby as much as thought she did. In any case she can’t have a baby that isn’t David’s. What if she got pregnant now? She’d have to have an abortion, and it’s against her principles, and it would have to be secret because fathers can now claim rights to unborn embryos.
Henry rolls off her. Letty makes languid disappointment noises but she’s rather relieved. He is heavier than David.
Henry’s phone goes. He answers it. Mara is stuck behind an accident on the M6 north of Manchester,
‘Yes,’ says Henry, ‘I walked Letty home.’