Vol. 67 No. 3 2000 - page 347

LESSING
347
benefit. The thought of her made him smile-a very different grin from
the one that had annoyed the clerk. He sat smiling, a small smile that
showed a gleam of teeth in his beard, and watched how the old man
woke up, to wipe away the sweat that was running down his face, say–
ing to the sweat, "What? What's that?" as if it had reminded him of
something. And then, to cover himself, he said sharply to Ben, "What
do you think you're laughing at?"
Ben left the bench and the shade of the tree and the companionship
of the pigeons, and walked through streets knowing he was going the
right way, for about two miles. Now he was nearing a group of big
blocks of flats. He went direct to one of them, and inside it, saw the lift
come running down towards him, hissing and bumping, tried to make
himself enter it, but his fear of lifts took him to the stairs. One, two,
three. ..eleven flights of grey cold stairs, listening to the lift grumble and
crash on the other side of a wall. On the landing were four doors. He
went straight to one from where a rich meaty smell was coming, mak–
ing his mouth fill with water. He turned the door knob, rattled it, and
stood back to stare expectantly at the door, which opened. And there an
old woman stood, smiling. "Oh, Ben, there you are," she said, and put
her arm around him to pull him into the room. Inside he stood slightly
crouched, darting looks everywhere, first of all to a large tabby cat that
sat on a chair arm. Its fur was standing on end. The old woman went to
it, and said, "There, there, it's all right, puss, " and under her calming
hand its terror abated, and it became a small neat cat. Now the old
woman went to Ben, with the same words, "There, Ben, it's all right,
come and sit down." Ben allowed his eyes to leave puss, but did not lose
his wariness, sending glances in her direction.
This room was where the old woman had her life. On a gas stove was
a saucepan of meat stew, and it was this that Ben had smelled on the
landing. "It's all right, Ben," she said again, and ladled stew into two
bowls, put hunks of bread beside one, for Ben, set her own opposite
him, and then spooned out a portion into a saucer for the cat, which she
put on the floor by the chair. But the cat wasn't taking any chances: it
sat quiet, its eyes fixed on Ben.
Ben sat down, and his hands were already about to dig into the
mound of meat, when he saw the old woman shake her head at him. He
picked up a spoon and used it, conscious of every movement, being
careful, eating tidily, though it was evident he was very hungry. The old
woman ate a little, but mostly watched him, and when he had finished ,
she scraped out from the saucepan everything that was left of the stew,
and put it on his plate.
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