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146
'Don't hurry,' says Vic. Don't bother would be more honest, for he prefers to have the kitchen to
himself in the early morning, to prepare his own simple breakfast and enjoy the first cigarette of the day
undisturbed.
He picks up the Business Section of the Times and takes it into the kitchen. While the kettle is boiling he
scans the front page.
The kettle boils. Vic makes a pot of strong tea, puts two slices of white bread in the toaster, and opens the
blinds on the kitchen window to peer into the garden. A grey, blustery morning, with no frost. One morning
not long ago he saw a fox walking past this same window.
Vic has eaten his two slices of toast and is on his third cup of tea and first cigarette of the day when
Marjorie shuffles into the kitchen in her dressing-gown and slippers. She carries the Daily Mail, which
has
just been delivered.
' Shall I do you a bit of bacon?' says Marjorie.
'No, I've finished.'
Vic takes the Daily Mail. The tempo of his actions begins to accelerate. He strides through the kitchen,
where Marjorie is listlessly loading his soiled breakfast things into the dishwasher, and runs up the stairs.
Back in the en suite bathroom, he briskly cleans his teeth and brushes his hair. He goes into the bedroom and
puts on a clean white shirt and a suit. He has six business suits, which he wears in daily rotation. Today is
the turn of the navy-blue pinstripe. He selects a tie diagonally striped in dark tones of red, blue and grey. He
levers his feet into a pair of highly polished black calf Oxfords*.
* Walking shoes laced above the instep.
When he comes downstairs again, Marjorie helps him on with his camelhair overcoat. 'When will you be
home?' she inquires.
'I don't know. You'd better keep my dinner warm.'
She closes her eyes and tilts her face towards him. He brushes her lips with his.
Vic passes through the glazed porch and out into the open air. The cold wind ruffles his hair and makes
him flinch for a moment. As he approaches the garage door it swings open as if by magic — in fact by
electricity, activated by a remote-control device in Vic's pocket. He backs the car out, shutting the garage
door with another touch on the remote control. Vic puts the automatic gear level into Drive, and glides away.
Now begins the best half-an-hour of the day, the drive to work. Vic swings on to the motorway, going
north-west, and for a few miles gives the Jaguar its head, moving smoothly up the outside lane at 90.
Vic is very near his factory now. He turns down Coney Lane and reaches the main entrance. The barrier
is raised and he drives to his personal parking space.
Vic pushes through the swing doors to the reception lobby.
'Good morning, Vic.' His secretary, Shirley, smirks from behind her desk.
'Morning, Shirley. Make us a cup of coffee, will you?'
He hangs up his camelhair coat in the anteroom, shrugs off the, jacket of his suit and drapes it over the
back of a chair. He sits down at his desk and opens his diary. He leafs through the file of correspondence in
his Intray. He lights a cigarette, inhales deeply, and blows two plumes of smoke through his nostrils.
Through walls and
windows comes a muffled compound noise of machinery and traffic, the soothing,
satisfying sound of men at work.
(Extract from "Nice Work" by David Lodge. Abridged)
Discussion points.
1. Vic grimaces at his own reflection. What kind of grimace can it be? Can you imitate it and show it to
the class?
2. Vic prefers to remain alone in the morning. What about you?
3. What kind of person is Vic? Prove your point.
4. Imagine what else Vic will do on this day. How will his day end?
Text 2
One Morning in Robyn Penrose's Life
Robyn rises somewhat later than Vic this dark January Monday. Her alarm clock, a replica of an old-
fashioned instrument purchased from Habitat, with an analogue dial and a little brass bell on the top, rouses
her from a deep sleep at 7.30. Unlike Vic, Robyn invariably sleeps until woken. Then worries rush into her
consciousness, as into his; but she deals with them in a rational, orderly manner. This morning she gives
priority to the fact that it is the first day of the winter term, and that she has a lecture to deliver and two tu-