Quartet in Autumn

by Barbara Pym

Edwin

"An Unsuitable Attachment"?

Crockford’s Clerical Directory

The library was also a good place to dispose of unwanted objects which could not in her opinion be classified as rubbish suitable for the dustbin. These included bottles of a certain kind, but not milk bottles which she kept in a shed in her garden, certain boxes and paper bags and various other unclassified articles which could be left in a corner of the library when nobody was looking. One of the library assistants (a woman) had her eye on Marcia, but she was unconscious of this as she deposited a small, battered tartan-patterned cardboard box, which had contained ‘Killikrankie oatcakes’, at the back of a convenient space on one of the fiction shelves.

She had always been an unashamed reader of novels, but if she hoped to find one which reflected her own sort of life she had come to realize that the position of an unmarried, unattached, ageing woman is of no interest whatever to the writer of modern fiction.

For all her apparent indifference she was not unaware of the situation. Somebody had reached out towards her. They could have spoken and a link might have been forged between two solitary people. But the other woman, satisfying her first pangs of hunger, was now bent rather low over her macaroni au gratin. It was too late for any kind of gesture. Once again Letty had failed to make contact.

having warmed both hands before the fire of life – but not too close, mind you. Now the fire was sinking, as it was for all of them, but was she, or were any of them, ready to depart?

In the past both Letty and Marcia might have loved and been loved, but now the feeling that should have been directed towards husband, lover, child or even grandchild, had no natural outlet; no cat, dog, no bird, even, shared their lives and neither Edwin nor Norman had inspired love.

Edwin was reminded of his dead wife, Phyllis.

Marcia had been one of those women, encouraged by her mother, who had sworn that she would never let the surgeon’s knife touch her body, a woman’s body being such a private thing.

‘I can never understand why people have to leave their homes the way they do,’ said Marcia. ‘When you’re older you don’t really need holidays.’

The church people did make a mild effort with Marcia and suggested that she might like to join a coach trip to Westcliff-on-Sea (‘Much nicer than Southend, dear’), but she didn’t seem to want to go and of course they couldn’t force her.

Heartbreaking section.

Of course he did not notice her new pink underwear

She let a week elapse after her visit to the hospital – spacing out the treats – before setting out on a fine afternoon to see Mr Strong’s house.

He had a few days leave still in hand. ‘You never know when they might come in useful,’ he said, but he felt that those extra days would never be needed, but would accumulate like a pile of dead leaves drifting on to the pavement in autumn.

Love was a mystery she had never experienced. As a young woman she had wanted to love, had felt that she ought to, but it had not come about. This lack in her was something she had grown used to and no longer thought about,

but not necessarily by return of post.

it had all the things for the church bazaar in it,

She knew that she was not a very interesting person, so she did not go into too much boring detail with the young people who enquired graciously about her future plans.

It seemed to Letty that what cannot now be justified has perhaps never existed, and it gave her the feeling that she and Marcia had been swept away as if they had never been.

the longer than usual evening, beginning with a period between tea and supper which she did not remember as having existed before.

trousseau,

‘But what are we going to talk about, once we’ve asked them how they are and all that?’

She must never give the slightest hint of loneliness or boredom, the sense of time hanging heavy.

‘Oh, stay till we’ve had ours,’ said Norman, coaxing her. ‘It isn’t often we get the chance of a chat.’

nobody had told her.

one couldn’t bully the elderly, their independence was their last remaining treasure and must be respected.

Mrs Pope did exactly those things that she wanted to do which made Letty realize that perhaps getting older had some advantages, few though these might be.

Did people then only go for the light and warmth, the coffee after the Sunday morning service and a friendly word from the vicar?

He stood on the opposite side of the road and gazed in stunned fascination, very much as he had gazed at the mummified animals in the British Museum.

she looked around the wood, remembering its autumn carpet of beech leaves and wondering if it could be the kind of place to lie down in and prepare for death when life became too much to be endured.

Letty found herself wondering if she really liked old people,

better to lie down in the wood under the beech leaves and bracken and wait quietly for death.

Had David Lydell gone all round the village sampling the cooking of the unattached women before deciding which one to settle with?

no wonder the National Health Service was in such financial trouble.

Same old, same old.

‘Oh, I’ve never been a big eater,’ Marcia declared with her usual pride. ‘But nobody can say that I don’t keep a good table. You should just see my store cupboard.’

The mention of Mr Strong’s name had the desired effect and Marcia assured the doctor that she would go back at once and cook something.

and anyway she had forgetten why she had wanted to see them in the first place.

Trendy Tony,’ he added, unable to resist the uncharitable comment. ‘Rock-and-roll and extempore prayers.’

with the comfortable assumption of so much that could be left to the women.

there was a drawer full of new Marks and Sparks nighties – not at all what you’d imagine Miss Ivory wearing, judging by the rest of her clothes. All brand new and never worn – she must have been saving them up for something.’

‘Do you think we should . . .?’ ‘Wash up? Oh, I think Mrs Brabner, the social worker, will probably see to that.

A married woman – and she must not forget that Mrs Pope was that – might very well be able to detect subtle shades of meaning in a relationship which would be lost on the inexperienced Letty.

Letty had to admit that she didn’t know, or even whether Edwin had television at all. He had never mentioned it, in the same way that he had never given any indication of having any special feeling for Marcia. If anyone had that, it was Norman, she felt, thoroughly confused.

Of course they were new, specially chosen for this occasion.

And when they weighed her she was only six stone.

‘a terminal situation’,

‘She said Miss Ivory was quite comfortable, what they always say.’ His wife Phyllis, on the point of death, had been ‘comfortable’ and perhaps that was one way of putting it.

Two women working together in an office, she thought, even if they didn’t become close friends, would have a special kind of tie linking them – all the dull routine, the petty grumbles and the shared irritation of the men.

All that time she had watched him growing cold until the fleas left his body, and now she couldn’t find his grave.

Another time, when she had first gone to work in the office, she had followed him one lunchtime all the way to the British Museum,