Boating for Beginners (2 page)

When Gloria was five, Noah had announced his retirement from public affairs. He would still make the occasional guest appearance and the crusades would continue without him, but he felt he needed time to himself with the Lord to get on with their book. Genesis or How I Did It had sold out over and over again, as had the second volume Exodus or Your Way Lies There. Noah felt that he and the Lord should concentrate on something a bit more philosophical about the role of priests and things; and then there was the Good Food Guide they were planning: what to eat on a long haul across the desert etc. So with reluctance he was going to be a recluse. As he made this announcement, he also advertised for a personal cook of the very highest standard — which meant cooking over an open fire with the most primitive equipment. Mrs Munde applied because she'd done just that all her life. She got the job.

Thirteen years passed, Mr Munde died of neglect and Gloria grew up thoughtful and a little unbalanced. She was a passionate child and it did her no good at all to read her mother's endless collection of romantic fiction written by Bunny Mix, the most famous romantic novelist of them all. Noah particularly enjoyed having celebrities espouse his cause, and one of the most vocal was Bunny Mix, who believed in the purity of love between men and women, the importance of courtship and the absolute taboo of sex before marriage. She had written almost one thousand novels, all of which had the same plot, but she was clever enough to rotate the colour of the heroine's hair and the hero's occupation so that you never felt you were actually reading the same book twice in a row. Sometimes they were even set in different places. Not only had Bunny made a fortune out of novels; she was also the author of a cookery book and a volume of love letters written by rapists, despots and adulterers to their mistresses. She overlooked this contradiction, urging her readers to wallow in the beauty of the prose, which despite all the sinfulness behind it was certainly much better than her own.

It was perhaps this book alone that had saved Gloria from becoming a complete emotional invertebrate. She could quote all of the letters by heart and often did in times of great stress, such times usually being the hours spent in the company of her mother. Because Bunny Mix was such a good friend of Noah's and she often dedicated her books to him as the regenerator (along with herself) of tattered morality, Noah had a whole collection which he generously passed on to Mrs Munde. The mother loved to read them after work, and sometimes she and Gloria would sit by the firelight taking a chapter each and reading aloud.

Mrs Munde had never thought that Gloria would want to leave their little home, especially after she had scrimped and saved to give her trombone lessons so that she could join the Good News Orchestra. The idea of her daughter going to live in the city, never eating properly and most likely meeting an unsuitable man filled her with horror. She had to act quickly, and the only thing she could think of was to speak to Noah as soon as Gloria had settled the elephant and gone to sleep. Noah never slept, so Mrs Munde didn't worry about the time.

When the world was quiet, she put on her hat and coat and set off up the hill to the big house. It was guarded, but after all these years she had no problems getting in. Whether it was her fish or chocolate mousse, Mrs Munde had a place in Noah's affections — not a very large place, more of a studio flat, but he liked to protect his workers and why not give Gloria a job? She could help him with his latest, most sensational and most secret project.

When Mrs Munde came outside again she felt like a young faun in spring. Her worries were over. True, it was not quite what she had had in mind for her child, but as long as Gloria kept up with her trombone and in with Noah she would no doubt be able to improve herself later. Her euphoria was such that even the sight of the elephant gently eating her black-out curtain was too insignificant to give her a headache. She pushed him out of the parlour, lay down on her mat and fell asleep...

Next morning Gloria woke early. She liked the mornings, when she could pretend she was the only person on earth apart from a mysterious stranger who left her love notes under convenient stones. She walked for an hour or so, then wandered back to the shack hoping that her mother might be feeling more flexible. Mrs Munde was sitting on the front step making coffee and looking determined. Gloria's heart began to sink.

'Your elephant ate my black-out curtain again last night. I'm going to have it put down.'

'You can't. I love him. He's mine.'

'He's not house-trained, he's too big ... but I'll give you one last chance.' (Gloria noticed her mother had an unusual gleam in her eye.) 'Noah's offered you a nice job working with animals. If you decide to take it you can take the elephant too, he can live in. If not, well,' and Mrs Munde made a sinister slitting noise through her teeth. Gloria felt faint and held onto the barbecue set for support.

'I'm not going to live with that transvestite.'

Mrs Munde thought the world had come to an end. 'What did you call him?'

Gloria mustered all her hormones and started again. 'I said he's a transvestite. Look at his clothes. They're not robes, they're frocks, and he wears stacked heels and make-up.'

'That's just for the newspapers,' snapped Mrs Munde. 'They like him to look tall and healthy. He's a star.'

Gloria fell silent. She didn't know or care what Noah was. She'd read about his habits and preferences — inventing strange machines in the middle of the night — in a magazine someone had brought to school, the sort of magazine her mother never allowed in the house. At the time she had been embarrassed because everyone knew her mother was his cook and they all asked her if the report was true. It was the first time that Gloria had been shocked out of her autonomous inner life. She lived at the bottom of a deep pool where her mother and the rest of the world were only seen as vague shadows on the surface. Now she was being forced into a graceless breaststroke to find out what everyone else was talking about.

'I'll leave you to think about it.' Her mother bustled away.

In despair Gloria did a personality test in one of the glossies. She didn't have the drive to be a banker, she didn't have the body to be a croupier and she already knew she didn't have enough hair to be a prostitute. It seemed like she and Trebor would be going to stay with Noah after all. She wasn't religious, because she had always associated that state with fish which she didn't like eating and a musical instrument she hated playing. Still, from what she'd heard Noah wasn't very religious either, and there was always the possibility that she might meet Bunny Mix and get a signed copy. In her own way Gloria was adaptable, and so she began to deflate the balloon that held her vision of the city and puffed away instead on a new one marked 'Noah'.

Like Gloria, Mrs Munde was by nature philosophical and optimistic. She believed in the power of the mind — at least, those minds in harmony with the will of the Unpronounceable. After her meeting with Noah she felt more fulfilled as a mother; she felt she had come closer to grasping that elusive and mythic image most perfectly described in Bunny Mix's novels. Every young girl needed a good mother, a figure who could be both wise and sympathetic, a model for the future and a comfort for the present. Her own mother had been little more than a useless socialite, whose dedication to pleasure had seemed shocking to the impressionable and earnest girl who became Mrs Munde — earnest, because she had wanted more than anything to be an astronomer; indeed she had spent nearly all her youth gazing out of the window, wondering about the nature of the cosmos and how she could truly be part of it. As she grew older and her ambitions remained as distant as their object, she persuaded herself that this early impulse was really a metaphor for something else, and when she heard about the Unpronounceable she knew her instinct had been correct.

She was an Astronomer without Telescope. Now the cosmos loomed larger and more definable, and she belonged to it. She had been fixed on the creation when what she was seeking was the creator. Suddenly, her life collapsed into place.

Gloria was more of a problem. As far as Mrs Munde could see, her daughter had no ambition and no faith. It never occurred to her that Gloria had chosen to be nothing in order to avoid being her mother's something. Only by remaining in a vacuum-sealed diving bell could Gloria hope to avoid the storm at sea that was Mrs Munde. And so, Gloria's vision of life was rather like the Lady of Shalott's. She dared not expose herself to the genuine and unruly three-dimensional world that included her mother. If she did that, she had a feeling something awful would become inevitable. Instead, she peered through her misty porthole on the shadowy world and dreamed of being rescued by somebody tall...

What Mrs Munde hadn't yet told Gloria about her new job was the possibility it brought of fame. She wasn't going to clean out the chickens or work with dogs; she was going to be part of a special team who were collecting animals for Noah's latest dazzling venture: a touring stage epic about the world and how the Unpronounceable had made it.

Stunned by the success of their literary collaboration Noah and God had decided to dramatise the first two books, bringing in Bunny Mix to add legitimate spice and romantic interest. The cast would be large, probably most of Ur of the Chaldees, and the animals would take pride of place. The whole show was to tour the heathen places of the world, like York and Wakefield, in a gigantic ship built especially by Noah's most experienced men. As it happened, a film company would be putting the whole thing on camera, not just the play itself but the making of the play, because Noah claimed he was going to carry his ship over a mountain by a miracle. This was thought to be nonsense, but it was bound to make money. There was the problem of casting, but it had been decided, quite fairly, that Noah's three sons and their wives should take the major roles. After all they were a public family, unlikely to be upset by the personal intrusions that accompany stardom. Ham and Shem were to play different aspects of YAHWEH because everyone agreed that God is a multifaceted and complex character who shouldn't be restricted by a single actor. Japeth was to play his father. Excitement was mounting amongst the privileged few who knew how Bunny Mix would interpret the characters of the overthrown goddesses collectively described as The Trivia. They had to be seductive but not too racy, and they had to lose all sympathy before the Unpronounceable finally destroyed them. A difficult task, but Bunny was a wonderful woman.

Mrs Munde mused on what she had been told, longing for the morning when the announcement was officially to be made. Perhaps Gloria would get a small part, maybe as one of the more musical heathen. Even if she didn't she'd still have a break in theatre production, and what mother could do more? She had given her only daughter a proper start in life; she had every right to feel proud.

The morning came, and of course the announcement was in all the papers. The Tablet had an old photograph of Noah raising someone from the dead, and a long description of the play and forthcoming film. The whole town was gossiping and doing their hair in case a scout came by looking for faces. The greatest excitement was generated by the imminent return of Japeth and Ham and Shem with their lovely wives Sheila, Desi and Rita. Japeth the jewellery king, Ham the owner of that prestigious pastrami store, More Meat, and Shem, once playboy and entrepreneur, now a reformed and zealous pop singer.

Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, but to be young the very heaven. Ur of the Chaldees looked less and less like an inhabited spittoon and more and more like Milton Keynes as the hours ticked by. Neighbours made friendly gestures and lent one another their lawn mowers, the dustbin men volunteered to return to work without their extra 10 per cent and the Socialist Worker Party Magazine painted their offices. It's extraordinary what Art can do.

Gloria was less certain. She had always considered the theatre a rather risqué profession and she said as much to her mother.

'Don't be silly,' cooed Mrs Munde. 'This isn't State-subsidised Nineveh Council theatre, this is honest profit and the glory of the Lord. You won't find any drugs or loose living, and remember it's being made into a film. You should be thankful for your chances and especially grateful to me.'

For a moment Gloria felt her diving bell keel to one side: her mother had managed to score a direct hit despite eighteen years of careful preparation. Was there no justice in the world? No. She thought about an article she had once seen on mind control. Apparently if there was a person fiendish enough to set about interfering with your life, the only thing you could do was to concentrate hard on someone they were unlikely ever to have heard of called Martin Amis. The particular blankness of this image was guaranteed to protect from any subtle force, but Gloria realised with a sinking heart that it was too late now.

Mrs Munde broke into this miasma. 'You have to go up to the big house in the morning and you'll be told how to get started. I won't be here much myself because Noah wants me to try out a few new recipes that need some invention of his. Do you know he's been inventing in his spare time? No, I don't suppose you do, you never listen to what I tell you. Well Noah's not just religious, he's scientific and he's invented all kinds of things, including a jet-propelled shark to amuse the tourists. He's going to do the special effects for the film. You should be proud, Gloria; I know I am. I look up at the stars, those bright and pleading stars, and I feel proud.' Mrs Munde began to choke and Gloria was forced to approximate intimacy and slap her on the back. She felt about touching her mother the way natives feel about looking into a camera: her soul might be transferred by accident.