The World According to Bertie - Alexander Hanchett Smith [103]
Could he become a Jacobite, or even an ardent nationalist? Could he find his personal salvation by becoming enthusiastic about Scotland’s cause? He did not think so. He did not think it was that simple. What about becoming a Catholic – converting – and sinking deeply into a whole community of belief? If you became a Catholic, then at least you had a strong sense of identity. Catholics knew who their fellow Catholics were. They belonged. For a moment, he thought: it would solve everything; I’d become a Catholic and then I’d meet a Catholic girl who would appreciate me. But then he thought: no, I can’t make that particular leap. It’s different if you’re born to something like that. It’s part of you; part of your aesthetic. But it’s not part of me.
And yet all that – all that embracing of a whole raft of rituals – was attractive. Matthew had met somebody who had become Jewish, not for reasons of marriage, but out of spiritual conviction. They had been surprised, of course, because they didn’t seek to convert people, but he had found them, and the spirituality that they had, and had gone down to London to a rabbinical court and been accepted. And then he had never looked back. A whole world opened to him: a culture, a cuisine, a way of dressing, if one wanted that. He had been very content.
I would like something, thought Matthew, but I haven’t got it. He looked at Big Lou, whose back was turned to him, and suddenly he felt a sense of her human frailty, her preciousness. For the most part, we treat others in a matter-of-fact way; we have to, in order to get on with our lives. But every so often, in a moment of insight that can be very nearly mystical in its intensity, we see others in their real humanity, in a way which makes us want to cherish them as joint pilgrims, almost, on a perilous journey. That is how Matthew felt. He felt sympathy for Big Lou – sympathy for everything: for the hard childhood she had had; for her struggle to improve herself with her reading; for her desire to be loved; for what she represented – a whole country, a whole Scotland of hard work and common decency. Oh Lou, he thought, I understand, I do, I understand.
Big Lou turned round. ‘Here’s your coffee, Matthew.’
He took it from her and took a sip of it, scalding hot though it was.
‘Careful,’ said Big Lou. ‘I had somebody in the other day who burned his tongue. You have to let coffee cool down. Those machines heat it up something dreadful.’
Matthew nodded. ‘I’ll let it cool down.’ He paused. ‘I’m not wasting your time, am I, Lou?’ he asked. ‘I come over here and blether away with you. And it never occurs to me to ask if I’m wasting your time.’
‘Of course you’re not,’ said Big Lou.
‘Good,’ said Matthew. And it was good, because he felt better about everything now, and he had a strong feeling that something was about to happen – something positive.
Big Lou looked at him. ‘You’ll find somebody, Matthew,’ she said. ‘I know you’ve got somebody already. I know about Pat. But . . .’
‘But she’s not for me,’ said Matthew. ‘Is that what you think, Lou?’
Lou nodded. ‘Best to tell the truth,’ she said.
68. Matthew Meets Someone
And Lou was right, thought Matthew as he crossed the street to return to the gallery. She had told him nothing that he did not already know – deep within him; that was often the case with that which purported to be a disclosure: we knew it already. He had somehow convinced himself that he would be happy with Pat, but in his heart he knew that this was not so. Now the thought that he had even gone so far as to propose to her at that party made him feel extremely uncomfortable. She had asked for time to consider, and had mentioned a few weeks. What if she decided to accept? If he wanted to avoid that embarrassment, then he would need to speak to her soon, and tell her that it was over.
Now, it might have been simple for some young