biologically.’
‘I’ll go upstairs, Slugger.’
‘Don’t be silly. You’ve seen me before and Mama knows you slept with me last night’
My daughter stood up, took off my wrap, hung it on her chair. ‘Any special way,
Mama?’
‘No.’ No baby fat left that I could see and hers was not a baby face. A young woman,
physically mature, functioning as such and enjoying it. Well, we’ll get an expert
opinion from Dr Rumsey. ‘Priscilla, it seems to me that you look about the way I did
at seventeen. We will see what Dr Rumsey says. For the sooner you start shopping
your Howard list, the sounder I will sleep.’
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I turned to my son. I’m sure you can be listed as eighteen, Donald, if you wish, and
receive a list of eligible girls. And – I may be prejudiced; you’re my son – but it
is my guess that you can spend the next couple of years, if you choose to,
travelling around the country, meeting Howard couples, eating at their tables and
sleeping with their daughters – a different bed mate every week, until you find the
right one. That programme would be safest for your sister.’
‘Mama! What a nasty ideal Donnie! You wouldn’t! Would you?’
‘Son, don’t make any promises you can’t keep.’
Chapter 20 – Soothsayer
‘Priscilla, you have not yet admitted to yourself that you can’t marry your brother.
Until you realise that, right down in your gizzard, you aren’t mature enough to
start courting no matter how grown up your body is. But you must not try to
interfere with Donald’s right to a-wooing go.’
‘But I love him!’
‘What do you mean by “love”?’
‘Oh, you’re just being mean to me!’
‘Quit blubbering and try to behave like a grown woman. I want you to tell me what
you mean by the word “love”. That you are horny about him, so hot for him that you
would couple with him behind any bush if he would let you, I will concede. It
doesn’t surprise me; I find him just as attractive, he’s as pretty as a collie pup.
But I have more sense about it than you have. Any woman is going to find Donald
sexually attractive; if you try to keep other women away from him, you’ll be piling
up more grief for yourself than you will ever be able to handle.
‘But being in sexual heat over a man is not love, my sweet daughter. I am willing to
believe that Donald loves you as he stood up to three muggers to protect you. But
tell me what you mean when you say that you love him… other than your hot pants –
an irrelevant concurrent phenomenon.’
‘Uh… everybody knows what love is!’
‘If you can’t define a word, you don’t know what it means. Priscilla, this is a
fruitless discussion and today is a busy day. We have established that you have hot
pants over Donald. We have established that Donald loves you but we have not
established that you love him. And I have pointed out what all of us know, that you
can’t marry your brother… which your brother has conceded but you are not willing
to admit. So we’ll continue this discussion on some later date when you’ve grown up
a bit.’ I stood up.
‘But – Mama, what do you mean by “love”?’
`”Love” means a number of things but it always means that the other person’s
happiness and welfare come first. Come, let’s get bathed and dressed, so -‘
The telephone sounded. I said, ‘Catch it, will you, Donald?’
‘Yes, mum; thank’ee, mum.’ The screen was in the living room; Donald went there
still carrying Princess Polly in his left arm. He flipped the switch. ‘Start
talking; it’s your money.’
I heard Susan’s voice. `Mama, I – Polly! Oh, you bad, bad girl!’
Polly turned up her nose, wiggled and jumped down, and stalked away. I must add that
she had never taken any interest in telephone images and voices. I think it may have
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