1984

           Butthesmilesan’thetearsacrorsstheyears 

           Theytwistmy’eart-stringsyet!’ 

           Ashefastenedthebeltofhisoverallshestrolledacrosstothewindow. Thesunmusthavegonedownbehindthehouses;itwasnotshiningintotheyardanylonger. Theflagstoneswerewetasthoughtheyhadjustbeenwashed,andhehadthefeelingthattheskyhadbeenwashedtoo,sofreshandpalewasthebluebetweenthechimney-pots. Tirelesslythewomanmarchedtoandfro,corkinganduncorkingherself,singingandfallingsilent,andpeggingoutmorediapers,andmoreandyetmore. Hewonderedwhethershetookinwashingforalivingorwasmerelytheslaveoftwentyorthirtygrandchildren. Juliahadcomeacrosstohisside;togethertheygazeddownwithasortoffascinationatthesturdyfigurebelow. Ashelookedatthewomaninhercharacteristicattitude,herthickarmsreachingupfortheline,herpowerfulmare-likebuttocksprotruded,itstruckhimforthefirsttimethatshewasbeautiful. Ithadneverbeforeoccurredtohimthatthebodyofawomanoffifty,blownuptomonstrousdimensionsbychildbearing,thenhardened,roughenedbyworktillitwascoarseinthegrainlikeanover-ripeturnip,couldbebeautiful. Butitwasso,andafterall,hethought,whynot? Thesolid,contourlessbody,likeablockofgranite,andtheraspingredskin,borethesamerelationtothebodyofagirlastherose-hiptotherose. Whyshouldthefruitbeheldinferiortotheflower? 

           ‘She’sbeautiful,’hemurmured. 

           ‘She’sametreacrossthehips,easily,’saidJulia. 

           ‘Thatisherstyleofbeauty,’saidWinston.