Open Writing

'What's it like living here?' I ask Hal Tanner, who used to work with me in the City.

He sips his brandy and soda but doesn't reply.

'I never expected a stockbroker belt man like you,' I go on, 'to retire to the top of a cliff.. . Are you sure this house is safe?'

I look out of the window and turn and say, 'It seems perilously close to the edge, if you ask me.'

Then I try with, 'How does Fran like it?'

'You've got the wrong tense,' he says at last. 'She didn't like it. In fact she hated it so much that she packed her bags and left.'

'Good lord,' I say, 'that's a shock – married all those years and then ... I don't quite know what to say.'

He looks smug. 'You don't have to say anything,' he says, 'because now I want you to meet my housekeeper.'

*

'Housekeeper?' I gasp after Violet has been into the room and gone out again. 'She seems more like –'

'Like what?' asks Hal, still looking smug.

'Like a film star.'

'Yes, she reminds me of Grace Kelly,' he blurts out.

'Have you told her that?'

'No – she's far too young to know about Grace Kelly.'

*
Now I'm back in my own house and the phone rings. It's Fran.

'I suppose you know about Hal,' she says, 'living in that silly house on top of a cliff . . . I got out as soon as I could, not a moment too soon . . . now he's probably drinking all hours . . . suicidal one minute, violent the next. . .'

'Oh,' I say airily, 'I wouldn't worry too much about Hal, if I were you.'

'Hal?' she says. 'No, it's not Hal that I'm worried about.'