The homecoming did not work out as he had expected. From the moment he reentered the bedroom, munching his apple, the mood of events drifted from marital intimacy toward tight-lipped hostility. All he had done, as far as he could recall later, was remark that they should eat healthier food. Susan had taken exception to that, regarding the comment as a slur on her talent as a cook, a black mark on her dietary judgement and a thumbs-down on her overall capability as a housewife. In his defense, and to set the record straight, Larry told her what he had been learning about nutrition and health, and how he had found the practice as convincing as the theory. That did no good, in fact it appeared to make Susan worse. After that the interchange descended into bickering, the pair of them taking turns at defending themselves as they lay side by side in bed, not touching.
“The kids happen to like baked beans,” Susan said, “and if you had wanted salads I’d have got some in, only I didn’t even know you’d be home!”
“Susan, there’s no need to get uptight, I just said—”
“I know what you said, but the kids won’t eat vegetables.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just, well, sometimes you should try a few rice dishes.”
“Rice!” Susan punched the mattress at her side. “You want rice, go down to the Chinese or the Star of India. And anyway you’ve lost weight, for all this oh-so-special cooking you’ve been dished up.”
“I needed to lose it. I’m fitter than I was when I—”
“Oh, are you!” Susan’s voice cracked, her temper giving way. “Some job! What are you doing with this guy? I thought you were supposed to be interrogating him.”
“I work out with him too,” Larry said, trying to keep the tone reasonable. “We sorted out a program—”
“I have enough workout getting the kids their breakfast and taking them to school,” Susan wailed, “and then I come back to all the housework, the washing, the ironing—”
“All I meant was, you should find the time,” Larry said, “time for yourself.” He turned to her, putting out his arm. “Come here.”
Susan didn’t move. She lay on her back, rigid, talking up at the ceiling.
“I don’t believe I’m hearing you straight, Larry. What time are you talking about? I don’t have any time.”
He tried to kiss her.
“Don’t.” She pushed him roughly away. “Just leave me alone.”
By breakfast time they were almost talking again. Their exchanges were brief but polite. Susan explained that her day, up until mid-afternoon, was already planned, and plans for the boys were naturally incorporated. Larry said that was fine by him, there was shopping he wanted to do. Susan looked at him strangely, but made no comment.
He was back home by four. In the hallway he stopped and listened. Over the noise of the TV in the living room he could hear the boys yelling. He went straight upstairs to the bedroom with his shopping. From the largest Harrods bag he took a new camel jacket, unfolded it carefully and hung it in the wardrobe. He then folded the bag as small as it would go and stuffed it into the bottom of the waste basket. Taking the other bags with him, he went downstairs to the kitchen.
“Oh, you’re back, are you?” Susan was ironing. She held up the cotton shirt she had almost finished. “This isn’t yours, is it?”
“No,” Larry put his bags on the worktop. “I borrowed it — spilled some food over mine.” He realized he sounded evasive, in spite of trying not to. “I’ll cook dinner if you like.” He smiled appealingly. “I thought maybe we could take a walk first, take the kids over to the park.”
Susan raised her eyebrows in mute surprise. She carried on ironing, watching Larry askance as he unpacked groceries from his bags. He had bought wild rice, celery, a large lettuce, a fresh chicken, grapes, herb tea, sea salt, Dijon mustard, and other items Susan couldn’t identify because the labels were either too small or nonexistent. She found herself becoming annoyed again.
“After dinner, if you fancy,” Larry said, making space on the cupboard shelves, “we could maybe go out. They’ve got the new Alien film on—”
“I’ve seen it,” Susan said. “Anyway, it’d be nice if you spent a bit of time with the lads.” She watched Larry fish about at the back of one of the shelves. “What are you looking for?”
“We got any nuts?”
“Only you. Here’s the shirt.”
Larry took it from her and laid it carefully on the back of a chair.
“Who did you see the film with?” he asked, then like Susan herself he moved on without waiting for an answer. “Spinach,” he said, poking about in the vegetable basket by the sink. “Have we got any spinach?”
“The kids hate it,” Susan said, trying not to sound edgy.
She packed up the ironing board and began leafing through the newspaper, keeping herself from flaring up. Larry turned to the deep freeze, heaved up the lid and stared inside. He shook his head at the contents.
“You know,” he said, “everything you’ve got in here has additives, or preservatives, or both.”
Susan rustled the paper, pretending she hadn’t heard.
Later, sitting on a bench at the playground in the public park, they watched Tony and John on the swings while Larry delivered a condensation of his newly acquired knowledge about nutrition.
“Take vitamins,” he said. “They’re absolutely essential for growth and development in kids, and for sustained health in grown-ups. The body can’t make them itself, so we have to get them from our food.”
“Is that a problem?” Susan asked coldly.
“No, it’s not, but see, it’s possible to eat a whole load of junk and get hardly any vitamins at all. On the other hand, if you know where to get your vitamins, you can take small, lightweight meals that are packed with all the goodness you need.”
Susan yawned, waving to Tony and John as they left the swings and moved across to the roundabout.
“Vitamin A,” Larry pressed on, “that’s vital for normal growth, clear vision, clear skin. You get it in large amounts from sardines, herring, liver, and fish liver oils. Vitamin B is really a whole complex of different vitamins — they control the release of energy from starchy foods, and they promote a healthy nervous system. You get Vitamin B in different forms from cereals and all fresh meat but especially offal, and from fish roes, yeast, milk, and eggs. Vitamin C is the one that helps to make healthy skin and connective tissue. It helps you to absorb iron too.”
“Listen...” Susan stifled another yawn. “Since you’re suddenly such an expert, how come they don’t go on about fiber the way they used to? One time, it seemed the know-alls were saying if you didn’t eat plenty of fiber you’d drop dead prematurely from any one of a dozen different things. Now you hardly ever hear about it.”
Larry assured her fiber was still as vital a component of a healthy diet as it ever had been.
“You see, you are what you eat. Now, without the correct amount of fiber, natural fiber—”
“Oh, shut up,” Susan said, without malice. She smiled at him. “I’ll race you to the swings.”
She got up and ran across the path and onto the grass, Larry galloping behind her. She skirted the sandpit and rushed to the row of swings, jumping onto an empty one. Larry caught up and tried to climb on behind her, standing, gripping the chains.
“It won’t take the weight of us both,” Susan giggled. “Just push. Go on. With all that natural fiber in you, let’s see how much wind you’ve got...”
She howled with glee as Larry pushed the swing, sending her high, legs flailing as she came down again. Larry extended his arms, bending them ready to take the impact and push her even higher. He glanced aside as the swing met his hands; he bent his elbows a fraction more, then pushed with all his strength. At the same moment an alarm sounded in his head. He stepped back from the swings, staring. Young John was talking to a man by the roundabout. As Larry watched, the man bent down and appeared to be offering John something.