I don’t know much about these things but it always seemed to me there was something wrong with the match of the colours in the clothes she wore, apart from the fact that she had a number of old dresses that she was fond of, that she was always lengthening or shortening, according to her notion of what fashion demanded. She would even set to work on the new dresses that she would buy, trimming and adjusting, and all this with hands that weren’t all that skilful.
For some reason it was important to her to save money. She had an obsession with money. Her tightness amused me, she was almost miserly, and especially hard on herself.
I’d noticed this years ago in her house, seeing them dividing up the food at meals into exactly equal portions, eating up the leftovers, frying them up a second time. Seeing the way they used old envelopes, the way her Ether filled up notebooks with his memoirs, writing on both sides of the page, filling up the margins, even writing on the cover. But in that house there was perhaps a good reason for such an obsession, because since the establishment of the state her father hadn’t worked and they lived on a small pension from the Ministry of Defence. Such was his pride that he refused to accept any employment after his dismissal.
But in recent years we’ve had money, more and more each year. It’s true that in the early years we went short of things, it was a struggle to keep the little garage going. And to make things worse my father’s partner, Erlich, decided to leave and I had to buy out his share and so I was plunged into debt. When the first profits began to come in I invested every cent in new equipment, in enlarging the site. She didn’t understand the business, she was content with what I gave her. She never asked for more and when she started working her salary went straight into the bank and became mixed up in the garage’s assets. I doubt if she herself knew how much she was earning. It’s strange, but the topic of money didn’t generally interest her, she just continued with her frugalities as if it was her duty. After a few years she began supporting her parents a little. I of course said nothing and she was so grateful she went even further with her frugality and her self-denial.
We never had any professional help in the house. In the first years after the boy was born and before he went to the nursery her mother used to help us, she came over especially from Tel Aviv at the beginning of the week to help us, and an old aunt who lived in Haifa used to help her at the end of the week. Sometimes she even took the child to her own house. And Asya was rushing about between the school and classes at the university, studying and teaching. When something went wrong in the house, the fridge or the electric oven, I used to repair it myself, then I got tired of this and without consulting her I’d replace them with new ones. She was shocked, astonished by my extravagance. “Can you afford it? Are you sure?” When we changed houses and incurred new debts she decided on her own account to take on another part-time job in a night school, although we could pay off our debts without difficulty. But I said nothing, I was used to letting her do what she wanted. At that time the garage began to prosper, the profits began pouring in in increasing volume. Erlich, the former partner, returned to the garage, this time as an employee, as chief cashier, and though he’d been a poor mechanic, he proved to be a financial wizard. He had a special way of playing with payments, of manipulating bills. If a new customer came along with a problem that wasn’t too complicated we’d charge him very little, and sometimes we even did the repair for nothing, and naturally he’d come back, and after a few times we’d clobber him, not too excessively but at least twenty per cent above the tariff. And he’d pay up quietly, without thinking twice. Erlich also devised a system of sending bills through the mail. We didn’t demand immediate payment but gave the car back as soon as the repair was done, giving people the impression that the question of payment was a side issue, that the important thing was the repair of the car, the service. We didn’t mention the bill. And after a week or two, when the customer had forgotten all about it, the bill would arrive in the mail. And people paid up without protest, as if settling an electric or a telephone bill. More and more of the bills were paid by insurance companies and industrial concerns, which of course didn’t protest, but only demanded receipts. Erlich knew how to make the most of this as well. Although he was no longer a partner he still thought of the garage as his own and he fought over every cent of mine, learned all sorts of complicated practices, studied the tax system in detail, consulted lawyers. We began to expand, to employ more and more workers, opening new departments, selling spare parts. We began to make a clear profit of ten thousand, fifteen thousand pounds a month. In my wallet alone I used to carry some five thousand pounds all the time, just like that, for no special reason.
But she didn’t exactly understand what was going on, or rather she didn’t want to understand, and I made no particular effort to explain. She still saw the garage as some sort of co-operative, unaware that all the profits ultimately accrued to me. She didn’t often visit the garage, as if she was afraid to wander about there. I doubt if she knew where it began and where it ended. But she was full of respect for my work, seeing me get up at dawn and return in the evening. True, I no longer came home black and oily like in the early years.
“Do you need more money?” I used to ask her from time to time.
“No,” she’d reply quickly, without even thinking, advising me to put money aside for the garage, in case something happens. Precisely what could happen I can’t say, perhaps they’ll stop using cars and take to horses.
She didn’t want a car for herself under any circumstances. For what? She was perfectly happy to use the buses. But sometimes when I had to collect her from the school or the university, and I saw how the teachers or the students looked at me, walking beside her in my dirty working clothes, lightly touching her arm — she didn’t care, but I did. I bought a small second-hand car and parked it outside the house and I insisted that she learn to drive. She failed her test the first time but after that she mastered the thing, even began to enjoy it. Now she could rush about even more, could take on extra obligations. She understood nothing about the engine, nor did she need to understand it, I always made sure that everything was in order. Once she arrived at the garage in the middle of the day. The fan belt had broken and she’d almost burned out the engine, and was scared out of her wits. I wasn’t there and the workers didn’t recognize her and ignored her. She sat there in the driver’s seat, at the end of the line, marking exam papers as she waited. Eventually Erlich saw her, ran to her, took her into his office and ordered the workers to repair the car immediately. I remember, when I arrived and she was standing beside the mended car, the curious glances of the workers, studying her critically, with a sort of smile of disappointment, now that they knew she was my wife. “Is that the old lady?” one of them asked his friend in a whisper.
To hang around the shops looking for things to buy always seemed to her a waste of time, an unnecessary effort. Sometimes she postponed essential purchases, making do with articles that were completely worn out, a purse, gloves or an umbrella. For a long time she went around wearing a shapeless straw hat of which she was very fond. Whenever I commented on it, she’d promise to buy a new one, but postpone it from day to day. Eventually I just took it and threw it away, without telling her. She’d been looking for it for a day or two before I told her.
“But why?” She was amazed. “You’re just throwing away money.”
And then I decided to go shopping with her. We met in town after work and walked around the shops looking for what she wanted. As a customer she wasn’t hard to please, she liked everything she saw. All the time studying the price tags, torn between a purse costing a hundred pounds and one costing a hundred and forty, and I stood beside her with three thousand pounds in my pocket.