New World in the Morning Read Online Free PDF Page B

.”
    â€œOh, nice! I’m glad you did that.”
    â€œYes, it was good.”
    Almost perfect, indeed. The only thing that could have made it any better was my not having to watch Moira first—and then Liz—paying for my drinks. In prospect this had sounded quite appealing but in reality it hadn’t seemed right.
    No, there was a second thing which I’d initially regretted: Liz reminding Moira that life began at forty and the inference which I had naturally drawn from this. But so what I had managed to say to myself, after a while. Four years was nothing. I wasn’t a child.
    Now I ran downstairs to make our bedtime cup of tea; and sang as I waited for the kettle.
    â€œYou sounded very jolly! At first I thought it was the radio.”
    â€œI’m sorry.”
    â€œWhat for? It’s good to hear you sing. I suppose you couldn’t, by any chance, fancy a biscuit?”
    â€œI’ll get the tin.” But back in the kitchen I realized that the beer had made me hungry. I cut us both a sandwich.
    â€œOh, what treats! How wicked!”
    This was the kind of midnight feast Matt would have approved of. It was fun eating our sandwich and our slice of cake—I’d decided to go the whole hog—sipping our tea and reading our library books. In my case it was The Shape Of Things To Come . But I should think I read barely a dozen lines and took in the meaning of about three. I wasn’t even aware that Junie had looked up from her own book and was studying me.
    â€œPenny for them!”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou were miles away. I’d love to know what you were thinking.”
    I held up my novel. From now on I should have to be more careful. “Merely indulging in a spot of time travel.”
    â€œAnd plainly enjoying yourself. It was mean of me to pull you back.”
    Oh, the irony! In this case so glaringly obvious but, even if it hadn’t been, I had always prided myself on being alive to irony.
    â€œPoor darling,” she said. “So pathetic.”
    â€œWhat is?”
    â€œYou wandering off into your own little world and me pulling you back with such a bump.”
    â€œSimply to remind me of the time, what’s more! Then offering me only a penny in recompense!”
    But it was late. I went to clean my teeth. Whilst doing so I gazed critically at my reflection. I should never have eaten that sandwich, nor that piece of cake, nor those earlier crisps and chocolate. (The pints of beer had been permissible.) Starting tomorrow I must cut down on fats and sugar, say no to any snacking. I could probably lose four or five pounds in a week and four or five pounds would be sufficient.
    But then I squared my shoulders and held myself erect. Oh, what the hell. Eating was one of the pleasures of life (except at those periods when I grew compulsive) and anyway I looked all right. To become obsessive over a few odd pounds—and in truth I swiftly grew obsessive over anything, health regimes, language-learning, economy drives—this could be seen as wholly life-denying, childish, negative. Entirely out of tune with the way I was feeling at the present. And intended to feel for ever.
    Carpe momentum!
    For even the cleaning of one’s teeth could offer you an experience to savour! I thought about toothpaste. I had never given a lot of thought to toothpaste. What was it made of, how was it coaxed inside the tube, when had it been invented? I thought about the rest of mankind cleaning its teeth, in times of peace and in times of war, sharing with me this unhymned facet of being a member of the human race. I felt warm towards the human race. How many thousands, I wondered, were spitting out into the basin at this precise moment, declaring themselves to be my brothers, uniting in the great adventure. It occurred to me I might have garnered some rare new insight, even if I couldn’t at once put a name to it.
    I felt warm towards the human race; warm