The Gropes by Tom Sharpe Page B

appurtenances of modern living had their usual soothing, emollient effect. They almost disguised her feelings from herself. The blender, the microwave, the split-level oven with revolving spit, the espresso machine and the stainless-steel sink with the separate spigot from the reverse osmosis water filter, all served to assure her that she had some sort of purpose and meaning in life when life with Albert often suggested the opposite.
    Albert could have his swimming bath and his leather-padded bar with its saddled and stirruped stools and Wild West number plates and flags – and even his Yellow Rose of Texas bumper sticker; he could have his barbecues and gas-fired charcoal grills to impress his friends and prove his manliness; in fact, he could have everything he wanted – except her kitchen and her secret thoughts. And her unsatisfieddesire. Although come to think of it, he could have her unsatisfied desire if only he’d satisfy it. No, the kitchen was sacrosanct if it only masked other needs.
    Belinda Ponson mused about Esmond Wiley’s coming. If he really was like his father and wore a blue suit and a tie he might be just the antidote to Albert she had been waiting for. Albert was too obvious and too crude. And he’d failed to give her what she wanted above anything else in the world. A daughter. Something she had dreamed of since she was a little girl herself, surrounded by grandmas and aunties and cousins.
    Belinda brightened. Perhaps the lad could be something else. Like a toy boy. She knew for a fact that Albert hadn’t been faithful to her over all the years of their marriage and perhaps this was the very moment to break free of the wretched man.
    If Esmond was like his father then odds were that he would be timorous and biddable and easily influenced. In fact, the more Belinda thought about it the more pleasing the idea of having Esmond around the house became.

Chapter 9
    Almost precisely the opposite thoughts were going through Vera Wiley’s mind.
    Vera still hadn’t got over the shock of hearing that Horace had got into debt by gambling on the stock market. She couldn’t bear to think of the consequences this would have if he didn’t recover from his breakdown and get back to his desk at the bank and sell whatever shares he still had that would go up when the market rose again.
    On the other hand, the prospect of parting even temporarily with her love child Esmond appalled her. Especially having him go to that cow of a sister-in-law, Belinda. Albert was all right in his own bluff way,even if his business was a bit dodgy, but that Belinda wasn’t a nice person at all.
    ‘If I’ve said it once I’ve said it a thousand times,’ she told Horace without exaggeration, ‘that Belinda is a cold fish. What Albert sees in her I can’t think.’
    Horace could, but he kept his thoughts on the subject to himself. Albert’s choice of an expert property lawyer and tax consultant as his bride had been a shrewd one for a man in his line of business in Essex, even if Belinda had apparently retired from the profession on marriage. In his own devious heart, Horace rather envied him. Besides, Belinda was a good-looking woman and had kept her figure, which was more than could be said for Vera. And even more to his liking was that she kept herself to herself, at least when there was company. She was just there in the background, making herself useful in the kitchen and not hogging the limelight like Vera and Albert.
    Not that the Wileys had been invited to many of the Ponsons’ parties, and the ones they had gone to had been too rowdy for Horace’s taste and his reputation as a respectable bank manager. And by all accounts they had been tame affairs compared to some Albert had boasted about. Even Vera had been shocked by her brother’s accounts of mixed couples in jacuzzis, though Horace had privately suspected her of a good deal of envy. Which made it all the more surprising that she was prepared to let Esmond go