Moral Disorder - Margaret Atwood [72]
The fact was that Oona was falling apart, said Nell. When they’d first met, Oona had been a force. Not only had she been attractive – in a voluptuous way, Nell thought to herself, with disapproval – but she’d had a strong will and strong opinions and the determination to get what she wanted. Or that had been what most people were allowed to see. True, she’d fall into depressions, but during those times she went to bed, so people didn’t see this side of Oona. They saw only the bright, steady, somewhat mocking face she turned outward. She was known for her efficiency, for being up to challenges, for getting things done. She worked as a manager. She was employed by small concerns – small magazines, small theatre companies – small, failing magazines and theatre companies – and she rearranged their systems and whipped them into shape.
When Tig had moved out, their wider circle had been surprised. Everything had seemed so calm. It was well known that the two of them had had an understanding, and that Oona in particular had gone through a series of male companions, but the situation itself had appeared stable. The rage – valid on both sides, Nell added fairly, because it always takes two, doesn’t it? – that rage had been buried; but like so many buried things it had refused to stay under the ground forever.
After the breakup, Oona spread a message of contentment. She was the one who’d asked Tig to leave: it seemed better that way. The children were fine; they would spend weekends and vacations with Tig, in the country. She herself had needed more freedom from constriction, more space, more time to herself. More scope. That was the word from Oona, for the first year.
The addition of Nell as a fixture in Tig’s life had been taken in stride by Oona – why not, since it had been partly her doing? She’d introduced Tig and Nell, she’d facilitated their – what would you call it? Their thing. “Tig and his harem,” she’d say. “Of course, Nell is very young.” Her expression said: young and dumb. The implication was that Nell would be temporary: Nell would leave Tig because he was too elderly, or Tig would leave Nell because she was too shallow. If the two of them wanted to fester away in that rented shack out in the sticks with the falling-down barn and the weeds – here Oona would smile and shrug – well, good luck to them. It would drive most people mad, herself included. In the meantime, the children enjoyed the country, at intervals, and Oona herself had more scope, the scope she’d always wanted.
She would make use of this scope at the last minute. Something would come up – some chance of an outing with the current companion. Then she would phone Nell and issue instructions: when the children were to be picked up, when they were to be delivered back, what they should eat. Her tone was cordial, even faintly amused. What could Nell say, standing on the slanting floor in the drafty farm kitchen, but Yes and Yes?
“Yes ma’am, is what she wants,” said Nell to her friends. “She treats me like the hired help.” That was Nell’s view, though she couldn’t get Tig to see it. Whenever it was a question of the children, Tig’s eyes glazed over and he turned into a kind of robot. So it was the best method – said Nell – just to bite her tongue and not say anything.
Not that she had practised this method very rigorously. But she’d tried.
“Such a good father,” said Lillie. “He wants the best for his children.”
“I know,” said Nell.
“A child – that comes first,” said Lillie.
“I know,” said Nell. She did know, too, now that she had one herself. But all this had happened some years before.
So that was the way things went, said Nell, for the first year or so. Then Nell and Tig had stopped renting and had bought a farm of their own, one that was less decrepit; though not much less, because they hadn’t had very much money.
But Oona assumed there was a lot more money than there really was, Nell told Lillie. She demanded more from Tig – for the children – than she’d been getting. But if Tig had given her any more, said Nell, they wouldn’t have