our-friend-Judith

IstoppedinvitingJudithtomeetpeoplewhenaCanadianwomanremarked,withthesatisfiedfervorofonewhohasatlastpinnedalabelonararespecimen:“Sheis,ofcourse,oneofyourtypicalEnglishspinsters.”ThiswasafewweeksafteranAmericansociologist,havingelicitedfromJudiththefactsthatshewasfortyish,unmarried,andlivingalone,hadinquiredofme:“Isupposeshehasgivenup?”“Givenupwhat?”Iasked;andthesubsequentdiscussionwasunrewarding.Judithdidnoteasilycometoparties.Shewouldcomeafterpressure,notsomuch—onefelt—todooneafavor,butinordertocorrectwhatshebelievedtobeadefectinhercharacter.“IreallyoughttoenjoymeetingnewpeoplemorethanIdo,”shesaidonce.Werevertedtoanearlierpatternofourfriendship:oddeveningstogether,anoccasionalvisittothecinema,orshewouldtelephonetosay:“I’monmywaypastyoutotheBritishMuseum.Wouldyoucareforacupofcoffeewithme?Ihavetwentyminutestospare.”ItischaracteristicofJudiththattheword“spinster,”usedofher,provokedfascinatedspeculationaboutotherpeople.Therearemyaunts,forinstance:agedseventy-odd,bothunmarried,oneanex-missionaryfromChina,onearetiredmatronofafamousLondonhospital.Thesetwooldladieslivetogetherundertheshadowofthecathedralinacountrytown.TheydevotemuchtimetotheChurch,togoodcauses,toletterwritingwithfriendsallovertheworld,tothegrandchildrenandthegreat-grandchildrenofrelatives.Itwouldbeamistake,however,onenteringahouseinwhichnothinghasbeenmovedforfiftyyears,todiagnoseaconditionoffossilizedlate-Victorianintegrity.TheyreadeverybookreviewedintheObserverortheTimes,sothatIrecentlygotaletterfromAuntRoseinquiringwhetherIdidnotthinkthattheauthorofOntheRoadwasnot—perhaps?—exaggeratinghisdifficulties.Theyknowagooddealaboutmusic,andwritelettersofencouragementtoyoungcomposerstheyfeelarebeingneglected—“Youmustunderstandthatanythingnewandoriginaltakestimetobeunderstood.”Well-informedandcriticalTories,theyareaslikelytodispatchtelegramsofprotesttotheHomeSecretaryaslettersofsupport.Theseladies,myauntsEmilyandRose,aresurelywhatismeantbythephrase“Englishspinster.”Andyet,oncetheconnectionhasbeenpointedout,thereisnodoubtthatJudithandtheyarespiritualcousins,ifnotsisters.Thereforeitfollowsthatone’spityingadmirationforwomenwhohavesupportedman-lessanduncomfortedlivesneedsacertainmodification?Onewill,ofcourse,neverknow;andIfeelnowthatitisentirelymyfaultthatIshallneverknow.IhadbeenJudith’sfriendforupwardsoffiveyearsbeforetheincidentoccurredwhichIinvoluntarilythoughtof—stupidlyenough—asthefirsttimeJudith’smaskslipped.Amutualfriend,Betty,hadbeengivenacast-offDiordress.Shewastooshortforit.Alsoshesaid:“It’snotadressforamarriedwomanwiththreechildrenandatalentforcooking.Idon’tknowwhynot,butitisn’t.”Judithwastherightbuild.ThereforeoneeveningthethreeofusmetbyappointmentinJudith’sbedroom,withthedress.NeitherBettynorIwassurprisedatthereneweddiscoverythatJudithwasbeautiful.Wehadbothoftencaughteachother,andourselves,inmomentsofenvywhenJudith’scalmandsevereface,herundemonstrativelyperfectbody,succeededinmakingeveryoneelseinaroomorastreetlookcheap.Judithistall,small-breasted,slender.Herlightbrownhairispartedinthecenterandcutstraightaroundherneck.Ahighstraightforehead,straightnose,afullgravemoutharesettingforhereyes,whicharegreen,largeandprominent.Herlidsareverywhite,fringedwithgold,andmouldedcloseovertheeyeball,sothatinprofileshehasthelookofastaringgildedmask.Thedresswasofdarkgreenglisteningstuff,cutstraight,withasortofloosetunic.Itopenedsimplyatthethroat.InitJudithcouldofcourseevokenothingbutclassicalimages.Diana,perhaps,backfromthehunt,inarelaxedmoment?AratherintellectualwoodnymphwhohadoptedforanafternoonintheBritishMuseumReadingRoom?Somethinglikethat.NeitherBettynorIsaidaword,sinceJudithwasexaminingherselfinalongmirror,andmustknowshelookedmagnificent.Slowlyshedrewoffthedressandlaiditaside.Slowlysheputontheoldcordskirtandwoollenblouseshehadtakenoff.Shemusthavesurprisedaresignedglancebetweenus,forshethenremarked,withthesmallestofmockingsmiles:“Onesurelyoughttostayincharacter,wouldn’tyousay?”Sheadded,readingthewordsoutofsomeinvisiblebook,writtennotbyher,sinceitwasaveryvulgarbook,butperhapsbyoneofus:“Itdoeseverythingforme,Imustadmit.”“Afterseeingyouinit,”Bettycriedout,defyingher,“Ican’tbearforanyoneelsetohaveit.Ishallsimplyputitaway.”Judithshrugged,ratherirritated.Intheshapelessskirtandblouse,andwithoutmakeup,shestoodsmilingatus,awomanatwhomforty-nineoutoffiftypeoplewouldnotlooktwice.Asecondrevelatoryincidentoccurredsoonafter.BettytelephonedmetosaythatJudithhadakitten.DidIknowthatJudithadoredcats?“No,butofcourseshewould,”Isaid.BettylivedinthesamestreetasJudithandsawmoreofherthanIdid.IwaskeptpostedaboutthegrowthandhabitsofthecatanditseffectonJudith’slife.Sheremarkedforinstancethatshefeltitwasgoodforhertohaveatieandsomeresponsibility.Butnosoonerwasthecatoutofkitten-hoodthanalltheneighborscomplained.Itwasatomcat,ungelded,andmakingeverynighthideous.FinallythelandlordsaidthateitherthecatorJudithmustgo,unlessshewaspreparedtohavethecat“fixed.”Judithworeherselfouttryingtofindsomeperson,anywhereinBritain,whowouldbepreparedtotakethecat.Thispersonwould,however,havetosignawrittenstatement