Hemingway’s Chair

pounds?’
    ‘You
wouldn’t understand.’
    ‘Nor
would most people. Where did you find it?’
    ‘I
didn’t find it. Ruth found it.’
    ‘Oh.
Well, if Ruth found it.’
    Elaine
turned and stared out at the sea. Scruff was splashing about at the water’s
edge, nose down, searching.
    ‘She’s
got control over you,’ Elaine went on, without looking at him. ‘She’s got you
under her spell, hasn’t she? I remember when she came in the post office that
first time. John Parr laughed at her and said she looked like a witch. I
remember it because I thought that was a cruel thing to say. But maybe he was
right.’
    ‘What’s
it worse to be then,’ said Martin, ‘a witch or a tart?’
    Elaine’s
eyes blazed. ‘What do you mean by that?’
    ‘I
know what you’re doing behind my back, Elaine.’
    Elaine
shook her head. ‘Your bloody back. That’s all I ever saw, your bloody back.’
    Martin
turned away, bitterly. ‘Well, I don’t care,’ he said. ‘Whatever you do from now
on, Elaine, it’s all right with me.’
    She
looked at him suspiciously.
    ‘You’ve
made your choice. It’s simple. You’ve chosen Marshall. You like him. I hate
him, that’s all.’
    ‘Well,
that’s good,’ Elaine retorted. ‘I remember the time when you thought he was the
best thing since sliced bread.’
    Martin
reached for a pebble and weighed it up. ‘That was before I knew what was going
on.’
    He
picked up a pebble and flung it low over the surface of the waves. It bounced
once, twice and disappeared. Scruff barked in delight and scurried off after
it.
    ‘Well,
you were right, for once,’ said Elaine. ‘We’re lucky to have him here.’
    Martin
snorted derisively. ‘What’s lucky about having someone who wants to destroy our
livelihood?’
    ‘Oh
God, Martin. Don’t tell me you really believe all that Save the Post Office
rubbish. He’s given us a damn sight more efficient office than the one at North
Square ever was.’
    ‘Oh,
it’s rubbish is it?’ Martin replied angrily. ‘Wanting to keep a decent post
office is rubbish?’
    ‘Martin,’
said Elaine, ‘it’s a building. That’s all it is. A building. What we do can be
done anywhere.’
    The
waves were growing larger and one spilled on to the beach quite close to them. Elaine
scrambled higher up the shingle and stopped, looking down at him.
    Martin
scrambled after her. it’s not just the building. It’s what goes with it.’ He
was shouting now. ‘We’re like the milkman. We keep an eye on people. If someone
doesn’t come in for their pension or their allowance or their green giro we
know about it. If anything’s happened to them we can tell. They can tell us
things too. We’re the listening centre of the community.’
    ‘Is
that one of Miss America’s phrases?’
    ‘Oh,
fuck off, then!’ shouted Martin. ‘You talk about me being controlled and
twisted. You believe anything Nick Marshall tells you. Well if Ruth’s a witch
then he’s a crook. A twenty-four-carat-gold crook. Just like your father used
to be!’
    Elaine
stared out to sea, into the wind. A long dark rim of cloud was spreading from
the eastern horizon. She turned and looked along the beach. She called to
Scruff, who reluctantly sniffed his way along the pebble-strewn sand towards
her. Then she glanced quickly at Martin. ‘Well, I’ve some news for you. The
post office is sold. They signed yesterday. We couldn’t move back even if we
wanted to. It’s not ours. So you know where you can stick your stupid
campaign.’
    There
was a distant noise, like the soft rolling of thunder.
     
    *
     
    Martin
watched Elaine until she was over the other side of the harbour. He saw her
hold the door of her car open and shout impatiently for the dog. Then she
climbed in herself, without looking back. He heard the gears grate and wheels
kick the gravel as she swung around and drove away fast up the low hill that
led to the town.
    He
gazed out to sea for a long time. The sight of that huge sombre sweep of water
was comforting. Its restlessness soothed and reassured. To the east the border
of black cloud grew as an inoffensive blue and lemon sunset faded in the west.
A persistent and strengthening wind agitated the surface of the water. A
curtain of rain was approaching fast and thunder rumbled far out over the sea.
    Martin
sprang up and went tripping and sliding down the shingle. Then he half-ran,
half-stumbled along the stony beach until he reached the barbed-wire fence and
the broken