44 Scotland Street - Alexander McCall Smith [107]
Irene, who now looked agitated, was again about to say something, but Bertie spoke before she had the chance to start.
“And now I’m going to psychotherapy. That’s where we’re going right now. We’re going to see Dr Fairbairn again. He makes me talk about my dreams. He asks me all sorts of questions.”
“Therapy!” exclaimed Domenica.
“That’s enough, Bertie,” snapped Irene. Then, turning to Domenica, she said: “It’s nothing really. There was a bit of difficulty with a rather limited teacher at the nursery school. Unimaginative really. And now we’re giving Bertie a bit of self-enhancement time.”
“Psychotherapy,” said Bertie, gazing down at the floor. “I set fire to Daddy’s Guardian. ” He paused, and looked up at Domenica. “While he was reading it.”
“The Guardian!” exclaimed Domenica. “How many times have I wanted to do that myself! Do you think I need psychotherapy too?”
“We really must get on,” said Irene, pushing Bertie through the door. “You must excuse us, Domenica. We have to walk to Male Uncertainty, Existential Doubts, New Men etc 223
Bertie’s appointment.” She paused, before adding pointedly: “We don’t use our car in town, you see.”
“I think our car’s been lost,” said Bertie. “Daddy parked it somewhere when he was drunk and forgot where he put it.”
“Bertie!” said Irene, reaching out to seize his arm. “You must not say things like that! You naughty, naughty boy!” She turned to face Domenica. “I’m sorry. He’s confabulating. I don’t know what’s got into him. Stuart would never drive under the influence. Bertie’s imagining things.”
“Well, where is it then?” asked Bertie. “Where’s our car, Mummy? You tell me where it is.”
Domenica looked at Irene politely, as if waiting for an answer.
“Our car is parked,” said Irene. “It is parked in a safe place somewhere. We do not need to use it very much as we happen to have a sense of responsibility towards the environment. Some people . . . some people may choose to act otherwise, but we do not. That’s all there is to it.”
“Of course if you have lost it,” said Domenica, “it’ll probably be down in the car pound. That’s where they take irresponsible cars.”
“Our car is not irresponsible,” said Irene. “It is a small car.”
“Easy to lose, I suppose,” said Domenica.
“It is not lost!” said Irene, chiselling out each word. “Now come, Bertie, we mustn’t keep Dr Fairbairn waiting.”
“I don’t care,” said Bertie, as he was hustled past Domenica, but still within her hearing. “You’re the one who wants to see him, Mummy. You’re the one who likes to sit and talk to him. I can tell. You really like him, don’t you? You like him more than Daddy. Is that right, Mummy? Is that what you think?”
80. Male Uncertainty, Existential Doubts, New Men etc
Matthew called the taxi while Pat wrote out a notice saying that the gallery would be closed for an hour.
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“It won’t take us much longer than that,” said Matthew. “We’ll nip up to Morningside Road, buy the painting back, and be back down here in no time.”
“Buy it?” asked Pat. “Isn’t it still ours?”
Matthew gazed up at the ceiling. “It may be ours technically. But it may be simpler just to pay whatever they’re asking. It can’t be very much.”
Pat was doubtful. It might not be as simple as Matthew imagined. She had heard that charity shops were more astute than one might think, and the days when one might find a bargain, an misidentified antique or a rare first edition, were over. “Sometimes these places send anything interesting off for valuation,”
she pointed out. “They do that with books, for example. Anything that looks as if it might be worth something is looked at – just in case. First editions, you see. Some of these first editions can be pretty valuable, and these charity shop people know it.”
Matthew smiled. “Not these Morningside ladies,” he said.
“That place will be staffed by Morningside ladies. You’ll see. They won’t know the first thing about art.”
Like you, thought Pat, but did not say it. And she was not so sure about Morningside ladies, who tended, in her experience,