This is The Writer's Voice, new fiction from The New Yorker.

I'm Deborah Trisman, fiction editor at The New Yorker.

On this episode of The Writer's Voice, we'll hear Esther Freud read her story, Desire,

from the September 27th, 2021 issue of the magazine.

Freud is the author of nine novels, including Hidious Kinky, Mr. Mack and Me,

and I Couldn't Love You More.

Now here's Esther Freud.

Desire Desire The tree are you are sisters, surely.

A man, a wash with drink, waylaid us as we fought through to the lounge.

Our mother smiled, eyes fixed on an empty row of seats,

while B&I stepped sideways to avoid the steam cloud of his breath.

Quick, a couple was snaking their way towards our chairs, and lifting Max, mum rushed to intercept them.

The boat was cheaper than the plane, the nightboat cheaper still,

and it was possible if you were fast to find enough seats to allow you to lie down.

The man, red-faced, lost his footing, and one arm flailing caught bee around the waist.

Fuck off, she said, yanking herself free.

"'Remember. Not a word about the move,' our mother said,

"'when we were settled. And I glanced at the dark curtain of her hair,

her fine, drawn, skin and worried eyes.

"'Bee had twisted round to check the rubbery doors,

"'slapping back and forth into the bar.

Sure, she said, and I agreed, and Max, who'd only recently turned three, ran a train along her arm.

...