A Father's Feeling
Rinny and Sally๐ญ went to wash and change their dirty dresses. The committee was coming to afternoon tea. And, at tea, the two girls, dressed in smart, clean dresses, handed round cakes and bread and butter with demure and reserved looks. They knew how to behave at tea, at a party. They were enjoying the dignity of their own performance. Their eyes passed over their father as if he was only another guest, to be served.
And now, seeking as it were a new level of security, of resignation, he said to himself, ‘Heavens, but what did I expect? In a year or two more, I shan’t count at all. Young men will come prowling, like dogs after Snowy. I shall be an old buffer, useful only to pay bills.
The ladies were talking about the cause of a boy of fourteen, a nice respectable boy, who had suddenly robbed his mother and gone off in a stolen car๐ด . Sally, sitting at her mother’s feet, was listening listening intently. Rinny was feeding chocolate roll to Snowy.
Stan felt as if he was being stifled. He wanted urgently to get away, to escape. Yes, he needed some male society. He would go to the club. Perhaps no one would be there but the card room crowd and he hated cards. But he might find old Wilman in the billiard room. Wilman was a crashing bore who spent half his life at the club and was always telling you how he had foreseen the slump, and how clever he was at investing money. But what good was money to the old man? Stan thought he could pass an hour or two with Wilman till dinner time, even dine with him. He could phone his wife and let her know. She would not mine and he need not to go home till the children were in bed.
And when, after tea, the committee members pulled out their agenda to begin their meetings, he stole away. Suddenly, as he turned by the corner of the house, skirting the front garden wall, he heard running steps and a breathless call. He turned. It was Sally. ‘Oh, I could’nt catch you,’ she said panting.
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