The Listener Read Online Free

shoving and pushing. The little girl was building a house out of oranges. A boy was eating ice cream, sitting under his chair. She walked slowly closer. “Areyou having fun?” she asked shyly. The children stopped eating and stared at her. For a long moment they stared at each other through the curtain of coloured streamers.
    “When I was little,” Miss Häger said, “we’d never heard of ice cream. I believe ice cream came along much later. Now don’t worry about Daniela, she’ll probably be here soon, maybe any minute …”
    Now the children were utterly motionless. The house of oranges fell apart and fruit rolled out across the floor. One of the oranges rolled right up to Vera Häger’s feet. She turned and went into the bedroom. Her sister was lying on her bed, reading.
    “I don’t get it,” Vera said. “I just don’t get it. Why is there always something wrong with our parties? Not even when it’s children …”
    “Read something,” Anja said.
    The lamp on the night table was green and threw a gentle light across the pillows. They were suddenly conscious of the ticking of the clock.
    “We could talk about it,” Vera said.
    Anja didn’t answer. Her glasses reflected the light so her eyes were hidden. She cut several pages of her book, and the book knife made a tinkling sound each time she put it back on the glass top of the night table. The apartment was very quiet.
    Vera Häger stood up and opened the door. “They’ve turned out the light,” she whispered.
    A lion roared in the sitting room.
    “They’re playing,” Anja Häger said. “They’re playing wild animals. Don’t look like that. They’re having fun.”Suddenly she was infinitely tired of her sister. “Children play,” she went on sharply. “They’re not like us.”
    Vera’s face collapsed in a grimace and she threw herself onto the bed and wept. Her head was narrow and it was covered with small dry curls at the back that she could probably not see in the mirror. There is no back to her head, Anja thought. Utterly brachycephalic. She put her glasses back on and spoke into her book. “I’m sorry. I just mean that they’re having fun. It’s a good party. They’re eating and roaring at each other. Social life – that’s a jungle, smiling and showing your teeth …”
    As she was speaking, she opened the drawer in her night table. Her sister took the tissue automatically, blew her nose, and said, “Thank you. What do you mean, ‘showing your teeth’? What are you talking about?”
    Anja Häger sat up in her bed, looked at the wall and said, “Social life is dreadful unless you love the people you entertain. People smile with their teeth because they’re afraid. Children are honest. They make a dark jungle and roar.”
    “I don’t understand,” Vera said.
    “Is there anyone,” Anja said, “is there one single person we long to spend time with?”
    “Are you trying to start an argument?” Vera said.
    “It’s possible,” Anja answered. “But not right now. I’m asking because I’d like to know. We could talk about it.”
    “We never talk,” Vera said. “We just live.”
    They listened for sounds from the sitting room, and Anja said, “That was a hyena. Wasn’t that a hyena?”
    Vera nodded. “Does it show I’ve been crying?”
    “It always shows,” her sister said. She left the room and walked into the sitting room. The children had taken off their shoes and were crawling under the furniture in the dark. She could hear them snarling at each other. Two of them started fighting and rolled out growling into the weak light from the front hall.
    Then the doorbell rang, and Miss Häger turned on the ceiling light and opened the door. The children trooped out and found their coats and boots and caps, the elevator ran up and down, and finally the front hall was empty except for two long black coats. The sitting room floor was covered with trampled streamers and bits of cake. She gathered up the plates and