Out of This World Read Online Free PDF Page A

generalized kiss, trying to make the gesture more casual than she means. We taxi down to the runway, turn, andMichael opens the throttle. We speed back in the direction we have come and as we ascend over the apron and the tower, we see her wave, in that stubborn, clumsy way in which people wave when they cannot see if their wave is acknowledged. She is still holding a hand aloft as we bank to head south. And I could almost believe it, could almost be guilty of believing it: the rest of the world doesn’t matter. The world revolves round that tinier and tinier figure, as it revolves round a cottage in a tiny village in Wiltshire, where she has taken up residence. That I am home, home.

Sophie
 
    ‘It’s the wrong name, isn’t it? “Harry”. “Harry” sounds like the reliable sort. An uncle, a best man, a loyal old flame.’
    ‘And he’s never written you in ten years?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘If you wrote him, would he write you? Is that how it is?’
    ‘Don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?’
    ‘I wish I could, Sophie. I wish he were right here now, so we could both ask him some questions. Do you wish that?’
    ‘You’ve got nice hands. Neat. Has anyone ever told you that?’
    ‘Supposing he were right here. Right now.’
    ‘For fuck’s sake.’
    ‘You never miss him?’
    ‘I miss Grandad.’
    ‘But your grandfather’s dead, and Harry’s alive.’
    ‘Spot on. You really have a way of cutting through the crap.’
    ‘And Harry wasn’t to blame for your grandfather’s death.’
    ‘No. Not to blame, no.’
    ‘What do you mean, “not to blame”?’
    ‘I mean it wasn’t a case of blame.’
    ‘What then?’
    ‘Like I say, ask him.’
    ‘You think it should have been your father who died somehow, not your grandfather?’
    ‘Fuck.’
    ‘Do you say “fuck” a lot at home, with Joe and the boys? Supposing I did ask him, what would he say?’
    ‘He’d say, What is this, a fucking inquisition?’
    ‘Okay, relax, Sophie. Relax. Touché. Truce. Let’s take our time.’
    ‘At eighty dollars an hour?’
    ‘You want my economy deal? It’s cheap, but there aren’t any guarantees.’
    ‘No, it’s okay. I’ll stick with deluxe. Joe pays.’
    ‘What does Joe think of Harry?’
    ‘I don’t know if Joe thinks of Harry at all. Joe is good at forgetting.’
    ‘He doesn’t forget to pay.’
    ‘Good.’
    ‘Shall we have some coffee? Coffee time is free. So is the coffee.’
    ‘Do you know, when you talk sometimes, you tug your ear?’
    ‘It’s a defence reflex, Sophie. According to the books, tugging your ear, scratching the back of your head, is a disguised defence reflex. You lift your arm to strike your enemy. What do you say?’
    ‘I like it when you smile like that.’
    ‘If he wrote you, would you write him?’
    ‘Don’t know.’
    ‘But you’ve never written him?’
    ‘No. I mean, yes. No.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘I mean I write him letters sometimes. In my head. I mean I don’t put them on paper. I don’t send them.’
    ‘What sort of letters?’
    ‘Just letters. Thoughts. You know.’
    ‘Do you think he misses you?’
    ‘Don’t know.’
    ‘But do you think he ever writes letters in his head, too – to you?’
    ‘Don’t know.’

Harry
 
    I still believe he fixed it. Some cunning string-pulling with his contacts in the Air Ministry. Though he never confessed it (so many unconfessed confessions! So many things buried away!). I still believe it was his doing that had me assigned, a fit, young, would-be flier, to a desk in Intelligence.
    And yet he could have acted more ruthlessly, and with less trouble, if he’d wished. Could have foreclosed on my future. Insisted, since, undoubtedly, there was a busy time ahead, that I was needed at his side, and, since armaments were the reserved occupation
par excellence
, had me exempted from military service.
    Though it’s easy to see now that, in his position, he could hardly have put the duties of a son before those of a