Therapy

love me?” and I said, “Darling, I haven’t allowed myself to love you in that way.” He said, “Well, now you can.” And I said, “Supposing I allow myself to, and then Sally and you get together again, what then?” He said very gloomily that he couldn’t imagine that could ever happen. Relations between them are getting worse. She’s talking about a divorce now, because Laurence refuses to discuss financial arrangements for a voluntary separation, which is very silly of him. His solicitor told him Sally would get half their joint assets and up to a third of their joint income as maintenance in a divorce settlement. Laurence thinks that she shouldn’t get anything at all, because she deserted him. The letters are flying back and forth between the lawyers. And now he wants to sleep with me.
    So what should I do? Oh, I know you won’t tell me, it’s just a rhetorical question. Except a rhetorical question is when the answer is implied, isn’t it? And I don’t know the answer to this one. I told Laurence I would think about it, and I have, I’ve thought of little else since last night, but I don’t know what to do, I really don’t. I’m very fond of Laurence, and I’d like to help him through this crisis. I realize that he just wants to be comforted and I wish I was like one of those earth-motherly, heart-of-gold women in movies who give their bodies generously to nice men at the drop of a hat, but I’m not. Fortunately Laurence remains wonderfully galant. We went back to his flat after Rules began to fill up with the post-theatre crowd and talked some more, but there was no hanky-panky or any attempt at it. A strange thing happened when he saw me out, though. He always comes down in the lift with me and puts me in a taxi to go home. When we opened the street door of the building, there in the entryway was one of those young vagrants you see everywhere nowadays, in a sleeping-bag. We had to practically step over him to get into the street. Well, I just ignored him, it seemed the safest thing to do, but Laurence said hallo to him, as if there were nothing untoward about his being there, as if the man, or boy rather, was somebody he knew. While we stood on the pavement looking out for a taxi, I hissed at Laurence, “Who is that?” and he replied, “Grahame.” As if he was a neighbour or something. Then a taxi came and I didn’t have a chance to ask him anything more. I think I had a dream about it last night...
     
    Well, I suppose the fact that I used that expression of Saul’s, the beast with two backs, last time, and applied it to Laurence, could be significant — is that what you were getting at? That I’m afraid of having sex with Laurence because sex with Saul was such a disaster? But is that cowardice or good sense?
    I know you think it’s unnatural that I’ve never had sex with anyone since the divorce. No, I know you haven’t said so explicitly-when did you ever say anything explicitly? But I can read between the lines. Well, for instance you referred to my relationship with Laurence as a sort of manage blanc. Well, I’m virtually certain it was you who said it, not me. Anyway, I distinctly remember your suggesting that I was using my relationship with Laurence as a kind of alibi. And I said that we’ve become so close that having sex with anyone else would have seemed like infidelity. Which is true.
    Zelda comes into it too, of course. If I decide to go to bed with Laurence, will she find out? Can I keep it from her? Should I keep it from her? Would knowing about it drive her into the arms of some lecherous spotty youth? You hinted once that I hadn’t come to terms with the fact that sooner or later she’s going to have sex. That as long as she was under-age I could rationalize my defence of her virginity as responsible parenthood, but that eventually she would become a young adult and decide to have sex with somebody and that there would be nothing I could do to prevent it and so I’d better accept it, but that I wouldn’t be able to if I didn’t have a satisfying sexual relationship of my own. So maybe this is a heaven-sent opportunity for me to become what you would consider a whole woman again, would you say?
    Then at the back of my mind there’s another consideration. The possibility of marriage. If Sally and Laurence divorce, it would be sort of logical for us to get hitched. No, I don’t think so, otherwise he would have mentioned it when he was trying to seduce