Zoe moved instantly from her chair to sit on the rail of the verandah. She looked across the garden to the tennis court where four figures ran to the net and paused, arguing some fine point of order. ‘That’s not so unusual. He laughs quite often. He makes me laugh often.’ It was impossible not to smile. Zoe adored him. But her mother’s unnecessary grief did make her feel embarrassed: she had no talent for this sort of thing. After all, he was alive—unlike many of his friends. He was home from wars and in one piece. Having done history for matriculation, Zoe knew, and thought her mother might not realise as fully, that men had always been coming home from wars. It was more natural to rejoice. Certainly (she gazed in sudden depression at the four now running backwards to the corners of the court, like figures attached to a maypole), certainly, the papers had for weeks and months been printing horrible facts, terrible facts. For a while, she hid the newspapers, and everyone was irritated and mystified and blamed a neighbour’s dog, a cocker spaniel famous for such depredations.
What do You think about In Certain Circles (2014)?
