Collected Stories

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When the phone rings, who would you most like it to be? And who would you hate it to be? Who is the first person that comes into your mind, Roy liked to ask people, at that moment?

The phone rang and Roy jumped. He had thought, during supper in their new house, with most of their clothes and books in boxes they were too weary to unpack, that it would be pleasant to try their new bed early. He looked across the table at Clara and hoped she’d let the phone run on to the answering machine so he could tell who it was. He disliked talking to his friends in front of her; she seemed to scrutinise him. Somehow he had caused her to resent any life he might have outside her.

She picked up the phone, saying ‘Hallo’ suspiciously. Someone was speaking but didn’t require or merit a reply. Roy mouthed at her, ‘Is it Munday? Is it him?’

She shook her head.

At last she said, ‘Oh God,’ and waved the receiver at Roy.

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