25

IT WAS ALMOST NINE IN THE MORNING WHEN MORTIMER returned wearily to his house and found Doug eating corn flakes in the kitchen.

“Happy New Year, Doug,” Mortimer said warmly.

“Same to you, Dad.”

Mortimer ran his hand through his son’s hair. He managed a grin. “I’m bushed. Would you excuse me if I didn’t join you and went right to sleep?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go in there, Dad. You’d be on a sticky wicket, rather.”

“How come?”

“Uncle Ziggy’s in bed with her.”

“In our bedroom?”

“Just so.”

“Oh, you poor kid, when did you find out about them?”

“Why, I’ve known from the beginning. Mother told me everything.”

“Everything? You mean about my, um, illness too?”

Doug lowered his eyes. Mortimer found the brandy and poured himself a stiff one. “Did she have to tell you that?” he asked, tears in his eyes.

“Don’t cry. She explained it wasn’t hereditary. She said I needn’t worry, actually.”

“How could she?” he said, sinking into a chair.

“It wasn’t exactly her fault. She didn’t want to tell me. But I couldn’t help noticing how cross she’s been … and, well, how absolutely super she’s felt since Uncle Ziggy’s come to stay with us.”

“Good old Ziggy.”

“Naturally they wanted me out most afternoons and Mother wasn’t going to be dodgy with me about that. I couldn’t respect her any more if she wasn’t completely honest with me.”

“I see.”

“It could have given me a trauma.”

“Your mother is so considerate.”

“I don’t blame her. Do you? I’ve read that women need it rather more as they grow old and wrinkly while chaps pass their peak early.”

“I have never slapped your face, Doug. But if you don’t stop –”

“But Mother says you’ve got a colored bird. I don’t understand, Dad, if you can have a go with a black one, why can’t –”

“Shettup!”

Which was when Ziggy stumbled into the kitchen, scratching his groin. Mortimer’s dressing gown was too big for him.

“Hi,” Mortimer said, “old pal.”

“A guten yor. How’d you make out with your Schwartze?”

“I do not wish to discuss such matters before my son.”

“Aw, come on. You’re not pissed off, are you?”

“Oh, no. I’m immensely pleased for the two of you.”

“I always stick up for you with her, you know.”

“Thanks.”

“Aw.”

“Joyce will be more precious to me now that you’ve found her attractive. I always thought she bored you.”

“I told her if we’re going to have a thing, it’s got to be above board. You had to know.”

“And what did my adorable wife say to that?”

“She’s very put out with you, baby. Over Rachel Coleman. And this –”

“I’m not having an affair with Rachel Coleman.”

“– Shalinsky business. Mortimer, tell me something. Do Jews make you feel inferior?”

“Certainly not!”

“No kidding?” Ziggy scratched his head, impressed. “You know there are times when I think she’s using me only to get at you.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk so loud. I’d hate to wake her up, the whore.”

“Please don’t be messy, Dad.”

“What would you like me to do, Doug?”

“I think you should cut out for a while and let them be. I’ll come and stay with you on weekends, if you like. Maybe you could take me to Paris next weekend?”

“Do either of you mind if I have a word with Joyce?”

“Be dignified, Dad.”

“I don’t mind,” Ziggy said, “but the kid’s right. This isn’t a good time. Not after the way you came on at the party.”

“What?”

“Man, you practically raped that Rachel Coleman chick on the sofa.”

“If it’s no inconvenience,” Mortimer said, grabbing his coat, “I’ll send for my things later today.”

“Ciao.”

“Ciao.”