Her Lover (25 page)

'Pooh! I don't attach any great importance to such trifles, myself,' said Madame Deume, purple in the face. 'Do whatever you wish. It's hardly worth bothering about.'

Her teeth well to the fore, she made an exit clothed in the pomp and majesty of She-Who-Owns-the-Place, corseted by dignity and head held high, and as she went she gave three little swishes with one hand over her hindquarters, a gesture which might have been a caress but was probably an automatic precaution designed to reassure herself that she had made herself decent and that her kimono had not remained hitched up behind in the wake of her sojourn in the room which her husband called variously 'the little nook' or 'the place where kings don't go on horseback'.

'Her menu's rubbish,' the buder said to Martha. 'I never saw anything like it. Bisque and then lobster, and apparently caviare as well! And sweetbreads and snipe and foie gras! They've shoved in every old thing any old how. You can tell at a glance that they don't know the first thing about the proper drill. A dinner must be carefully put together, it's got to be thought out proper. And fancy, a printed menu at a dinner for five! It's a hoot! And to cap it all they fetch me along here at half past five for a dinner that don't start till eight! Oh dearie me, the things you do see!'

His attention was caught by a framed notice hanging over the sink. He put on his glasses and peered at a small work of literature, handsomely copied out in Monsieur Deume's best hand, which, on instructions given by Madame, the maid was required to read each morning:

In kitchen lowly as on vasty plain

All live 'neath God's Unwinking eyes.

So stay not your hand nor grudge your pain,

For God alone confers the prize:

The health of those we hold most dear, The sound of laughter in the home. To work! sweet girl, no more to fear, And learn to reap what thou hast sown. (By Mme T. Combe)

'Is this poem intended for you?'

Tt is that,' said Martha, who hid a toothless, shamefaced smile with her hand.

He sat down, crossed his legs, opened the paper, and started reading the sports page.

Fuming at the thought of the Duke of Nemours's napkins which she found difficult to stomach, she took up a position in the downstairs hallway with no other end in view than to find out exactly when the horrible little man would make up his mind to do what he'd been told. To avoid giving the impression that she was lying in wait to ambush him, she began tidying things which did not need tidying, inwardly seething at having to wait upon the good pleasure of a servant. She had been there for at least ten minutes and the creature still had not made any move to go and set the table! A fine example for Martha, who would conclude that orders could be disobeyed with impunity! Should she go back to the kitchen and tell him again? The lout was quite capable of saying that there was plenty of time, that it wasn't six yet. If he did, she would lose all credibility in Martha's eyes. Or should she phone the agency and ask them to send another man? They'd probably say they didn't have anyone else available. Besides, the phone was in the hallway and he'd hear the conversation, and that would make it even more impossible for her to settle his hash. Her hands were tied. She was at the mercy of this dreadful working-class person with the cheap suitcase! That snide reference to cows was obviously intended for her! There was a lot to be said for Signor Mussolini . . .

Once again the little round face with the staring eyes and the goatee appeared over the banister on the landing above and called down that discwetion was the better part of soupr-taking, and that half-spoonfuls only was the wule. Determined to put a stop to this but not wishing to make a scene in public, she went up the stairs two at a time, grabbed her bewildered husband by the hand, and hauled him off to their bedroom. Shutting the door, she set about making him pay for both the butler and the ducal napkins.

'I've had just about enough of you!' she snarled through clenched teeth. 'You will be so kind as to make yourself scarce! Take off your felts, go outside into the garden, and stay there until I say you can come in again!'

But the poor man, so unceremoniously ejected, did not linger long in the open. If anyone walked past, what would they think when they saw him hanging about outside in a dinner-jacket? He repaired to a disused summer-house, shut the door, and found himself with nothing to do. To pass the time, he sat down on a wheelbarrow, where he made a pretty picture, and began humming 'O'er all our hills when morning sun', then 'Beat out, ye drums', followed by 'O mountains free', 'Airy peaks' and 'The old chalet'. When he had run through his entire repertory of patriotic songs, he decided to take a look round the cellar. There was always something interesting to do there. He sneaked a glance outside through the half-open door, made sure the coast was clear, and scuttled away.

In the cellar he did indeed find plenty of useful things to do. The jars of preserves were not stored in any logical order, so he rearranged them by contents and size. This took some time. Then he brushed down the cobwebs with an old broom. Finally he sat down on one of the cellar steps and told Antoinette exactly what he thought of her.

He cocked one ear. Yes, it was her. 'Hippolyte, where are you? Coo-ee! Hippolyte! Coo-ee!' That 'Coo-ee' was always a sign that she was in a good mood. He opened the door leading from the cellar into the garden, went outside, and put his best foot forward, as uncomplaining as a little chick and only too happy to be going indoors again. 'Here I am! Coming!'

She stood on the threshold of the front door, an imposing sight in her rustling evening dress, with the black velvet choker around her throat conferring undeniably dowager status, and welcomed him back with warmth, for she had been found pleasing in the sight of her mirror. So the matter of his recent spell in quarantine was not raised, and she even took him by the arm. This made him feel slightly ashamed after all the horrible things he'd said about her.

In the bedroom, without a hint of acrimony, she pointed out that he'd gone and got his dinner-jacket all messed up. So he told her about the tidying up he'd done in the cellar, and she nodded her approval. Her sweet mood even extended to brushing him down meticulously, and, as she did so, her adipose lump peeped out from under her choker and wobbled. He did not resist, and felt soothed. Antoinette had her good side too.

'You look scwumptious in that fwock, poppet. Makes you look just like a slip of a girl.'

She put on her saintly, wistful face and wielded the brush with renewed vigour.

'Did you know the caterer's man has come? A very naice young man, such good manners, definitely a cut above the usual type. Different kettle of fish altogether from the butler. Incidentally, I haven't told you the latest on him. He finally made up his mind to set the table

'You told him about doing the serviettes in a fan?'

'Oh that's been out for ages, dear, terribly old-fashioned. The correct thing nowadays is to have the napkin folded once with the roll inside and placed to the left of the plate for the soup, which is laid in advance. But to come back to that quite awful man. As I was saying when you interrupted, he made up his mind to set the table. Shortly after, I looked into the dining-room to see if everything was as it should be and what do I find but Mr Impertinence trying out my rocker! You know, Aunt Lisa's rocking-chair!'

'Never!'

'Turn round and I'll do your back.'

'So what did you do?'

'I sought direction.'

'And?'

'I received direction to do nothing, so as to avoid causing a fuss at the last moment, for it's far too late now to get someone else. It was what I'd been thinking myself! I had anticipated the will of God, from Whom nothing is hid! Oh Hippolyte, the things we have to put up with from the lower classes! There, now you're tidy again,' she said finally as she put the brush down.

'Thank you,' he said, and he kissed the hand of his wife, who, touched by this gallant gesture, resumed her faintly bereaved look.

'But the situation changed completely the minute Didi walked into the dining-room!' she blared suddenly. 'As soon as he saw the Man of the House, the bully was out of that chair in a flash and believe me he couldn't get back to the kitchen fast enough! Oh, Adrien's got presence, all right, he has authority! What a relief it is to me to have the support of the only virile member of the family!'

'So Adwien's back from doing his ewwands?'

'How dreadful, I forgot to tell you! Yes, when you were down in the cellar.'

'Has he been to see Awiane?'

'Yes, and by all accounts she has perked up no end and is this very minute getting togged up in her very best. That girl blows hot and cold! However. Adrien looks perfect in his new dinner-jacket, so distinguished. The poor boy's gone to ever so much trouble! He brought back all kinds of things. Enough candles to make it as bright as day! And six pewter candleholders to put them on! It will be a sight, like the theatre, you know, the sort of thing you see at big receptions! And flowers. Red, white and blue, because our guest is French. What a charming idea, don't you agree?'

'Oh first-wate,' said Monsieur Deume uneasily.

'And he
?
s changed all the wines! He insisted he wanted a better quality! Oh no one puts anything over on Monsieur Adrien Deume! And take it from me, they didn't dare argue! Also six bottles of the best champagne and a big ice bucket, and of course ice to go in it! The poor darling has thought of everything! And caviare too! The best! And English bread for the Melba toast! He even remembered the lemons, you have to have lemon with caviare, it's the correct way to serve it. Incidentally, the caviare does not appear on the printed menu. Why don't you write it on, at the top, and make your writing look like printing? On second thoughts, perhaps not, he'll be able to see for himself that there's caviare. The caviare was a naice touch, don't you think?'

'Wather!' said Monsieur Deume.

'His chief will be thrilled. Still, Didi couldn't do any less for him.'

CHAPTER 18

'No I shan't go down I won't have anything to do with him I don't care if there is a row oh it's lovely lying here in the bath the water's too hot I love it too hot tumty-to tumty-tum pity I can't whisde properly like little boys do I adore being by myself holding them in both hands I love them I can feel their weight their firmness I'm crazy about them I think deep down I must be in love with myself when we were nine or ten Éliane and I used to walk to school together on winter days we would hold hands in the biting wind put on dirgy voices and sing that song I made up It's freezing hard the ice is on the pool And we two winkies are setting off for school that was it then we'd start again It's freezing hard oh a beautiful nude who was female and also male in one no that wouldn't be right on the other hand yes I will go down
I'll
behave badly at dinner I'll be rude to him I'll tell everyone about what he did I'll empty a jug of water over him yes who was male too I'd love to smoke a cigar just once to see what it's like watch your step it's a nasty word I won't say it I want to say it no I shan't say it shan't shan't tumty-to tumty-tum I fancy a chocolate when I eat a chocolate I look at it before popping it in my mouth before popping it in my mouth I turn it round and round and I take a small bite and then I take another bite and look at it some more and I turn it over and over and scrunch scrunch I chew and chew he brings me all those presents he smiles very nicely I'm often in a bad mood pray to God for help to make me a good wife but oh that animal look of his when he starts the animal stuff when he looks at me serious anxious like some short-sighted animal with designs on me I
mean when he wants to use me hideous idea funny thing though he always sneezes when he wants it whenever he's going to start on the animal stuff he never misses he sneezes twice atishoo atishoo and I tell myself here we go it's zoo time no escape he's going to do his gymnastics on top of me yet at the same time I want to laugh when he sneezes and at the same time I'm scared because it's about to happen he'll climb all over me one animal on top and another animal underneath but last time he started a silly new business he started nibbling at me which made me think of a pekinese playing it's horrible so why don't I simply tell him to jolly well stop his nibbling it's because I don't want to bally well offend him don't say jolly well and bally well but also because I'm fascinated by weird sights like when I'm on the bus and can't take my eyes off somebody with a horrible face and stare but possibly it's also because there's something cruel in me that makes me let him get on with it because then he looks quite ridiculous what oh what gives this man I do not know the right what right does he have to hurt me he hurt me especially at the beginning hke a red-hot poker oh I don't bally well like men stop saying that and anyway what a silly idea how stupid can you get wanting to stick your that your thing into someone who isn't interested it just hurts her all that romantic guff in novels is all rot can there really be women around stupid enough to like such horrible things oh that dreadful canine snarl when he's on me how on earth can he get so carried away but at the same time I get this urge to laugh when he's rolling all over me he goes red in the face so busy preoccupied anxious he frowns and then that self-absorbed canine snarl can all that toing and froing be really that exciting it's ludicrous and anyway so undignified oh the oaf hurts me but he also makes me feel sorry for him poor man he perches over me so studious writhing away putting everything into it he has no idea I'm looking at him judging him deep down I don't want to humiliate him but each time it happens I can't stop myself saying Didi Didi to the beat to the rhythm of the pumping of the archings of the poor ninny crouching over me of the incredibly stupid and utterly pointless archings back and forth forth and back Didi Didi Didi I say over and over to myself I feel ashamed I loathe myself he's a nice enough boy but I can't help it and it goes on and on him lying on top of me Ariane d'Auble you'd think he was a madman or a savage oh it's all so ugly I'm sorry really so sorry poor darling oh that horrible canine snarl my marriage is all snarled up too and all this on account of how I didn't manage to kill myself irritable I feel irritable all the time and he never suspects a thing and I'm too sorry for him to tell him to get off on and on while I he there defiled dishonoured and then finally the fit the ludicrous epileptic spasm of this international official who deals with mandated territories over me he shrieks like a cannibal because it's over and he seems to have liked it and then he collapses next to me panting it's over till next time no it's not quite over yet because now he snuggles up to me all sticky and adhesive and he starts saying tender things that make me feel sick that's even worse I can't stand it can't stand any more of it the business of his promotion the cocktail parties his upsets yet he's so ' pathetic poor lamb in his muddy little world a little more hot water now please that's enough thank you but he gets on my nerves careful as you go darling it's been raining and the roads are slippery drive slowly and then forever pestering me about wearing warmer clothes and worse his awful habit of touching me all the time it drives me crazy as if the nights weren't enough and also his mania for asking my advice all the time and so on and on the other day when he was brushing his teeth he appeared frothing at the mouth with toothpaste Arianny did you remember to take your tonic he's such a pain in the neck and that awful trip to Egypt with him taking notes about monuments and dynasties so he could show off when we got back and appear clever with those cretinous friends of his Kanakis Rasset Egyptian architecture is ghastly broken-down ruins rotten old columns stupid pyramids and people rave about it S is just as bad but in a different way I think I am quite abnormal I don't even know my times tables especially eight sevens and nine sixes for those I always have to do adding up I look up to my Daddy I really do grisly thought Daddy also sprawling on top of Mummy like an animal Daddy snarling and woofing aah aah how is it possible still everybody must do it since people are being born all the time Monsieur and Madame Henri are happy to enounce announce the birth of their little Henriette how do they have the nerve to admit it in public but everybody thinks announcing births is all very natural yes they all do woofing and nine months later they don't seem the least ashamed to shout it from the rooftops even respectable people who go round fully clothed by day not to mention government ministers who make speeches in the League of Nations about world peace they look ever so proper and serious keep all their clothes on by day and at night they swarm naked all over their poor wives but nobody seems to think it's ridiculous nobody laughs when they stand there with all their clothes on announcing that in the name of their government et cetera kings do it too and people bow down to them as if they didn't and queens smile and wave as if they'd never been rumbled and squirmed over I'm glad whip whip hooray horsewhip on his bare back it raises pale welts jolly glad I didn't tell him about the beast otherwise there'd have been a duel and poor Didi would have had his chips poor Didi when people die the look in their eye goes up to heaven and makes another star that's my lawful awful wedded husband I don't like saying dear and darling it doesn't come naturally to me I always have to make an effort though I bet Lady Haggard didn't have to try very hard when they were in that cave Uncle Gri's coming soon dearest Uncle he's a true Christian not like Old Mother Deume who's not the genuine article Uncle Gri is a saint leave them alone I loved Tantlérie she was a noble old soul and funny too listen my girl only atheists and papists go into cafes she never wanted to herself she wouldn't go to the theatre because theatre is just make-believe those third-rate actresses interviewed on the radio always say absolutely instead of just yes because they think absolutely sounds more confident more definite more vivacious and wittier than yes and then if they are asked about what play they're appearing in next and there isn't one they won't admit it they say oh you know what I need right now is to get away to the country for a complete rest or else I've got something big coming up but I don't want to talk about it because I'm a superstitious person or else they put on this sly arty-smarty voice and say oh can't say mustn't let the cat out of the bag just yet now for a bit more hot water I love it when it's too hot the beast stays in hotels doesn't live in a house doesn't have a home to call his own those actresses who show off on the radio don't say outright that they've had a hit they say the pubic the public was very sweet they always mention the name of the famous actor who's been in the same play as them they always say he's a lovely person and a good friend to show that he treats them like equals he's the original Wandering Jew and if they get asked about what part they've got in their next play they say oh I play one of those awful unfaithful wives or I'm one of those delightful very proper girls and they give one of their witty little giggles what a lot of rubbish I talk when I'm in the bath but worst of the lot are those singers with loud soulful voices and small brains obviously when she suggested the lift back in her car obviously they went back to his place in the Ritz and played mummies and daddies Didi gets very worried whenever I get back late he goes out in the road and waits for me you see darling I was dreadfully worried I was afraid you'd had an accident it gets on my nerves tsk tsk be careful not to mention it mind you it's odious oh dear us model wife from this day forth that Haggard bitch saying would you like me to show you the cave it's got stalactites fluttering her eyes talking to him holding her head on one side singsong voice being the helpless little woman asking questions thirsting for knowledge and then going into raptures whenever he said anything oh the unspeakably adoring look on her face Hail Caesar hell seize her pretending to be scared for his benefit I despise women I'm not very womanly in the Ritz naked disgusting when her husband was at home with flu it's horrid this urge to say rude words still I was brought up correctly maybe that's why I I aye-aye I'm the untamed unattainable maiden my costume the one I wore to the fancy-dress ball you know Diana the Huntress I've still got it darling Éliane it was you who designed it and made it up for me and the two of us went to the Armiots' ball do you remember you as Minerva and me as Diana I put it on sometimes when I'm feeling blue crescent moon on my head short tunic bare legs sandals with criss-cross straps and I walk round my room with quiver slung over my shoulder queen of the forest casting Actaeon to the starving hounds I I aye-aye like you very much the thoroughbred mares beloved of the winds in remotest Scythia are not more sad or more untamed than I on evenings when northerly breezes die away aye aye I suppose I could always take a rise out of Antoinette like when she says a naice lunching or pull her dangling lump and let it go to see if it shoots back like an elastic band it obviously would it would spring twang against her throat or else the blubbery string thing would snap a joy never to be tasted or turn a gun on her and make her dance a wild waltz but that's enough of that when I'm all by myself in my room I'm also Electra and her lament at Mycenae and Brünnhilde too am I abandoned on the isle of flames also Isolde pleading I'm also an idiot and Éliane too she could be a silly little goose at times like when she'd giggle in that shamefaced cheeky way of hers no matter now all the same it's true the plays we used to put on in the attic were quite ridiculous me as Phedre consumed with passion Éliane as the confidante me as that stupid Desdemona she as Othello yes Desdemona's too stupid for words forever snivelling not a clue about how to look out for herself now me I'd have had Othello dirty nig-nog coon exactly where I wanted him don't you see it was Iago who set you up my dear you're such a fool you know I couldn't tell him he values his job far too much for that he'd be devastated he was so happy when the beast talked to him and so pathetic because his boss chewed his ear after that I didn't have the heart to spoil his promotion my nose is very alluring stupid clod and that stuff about going doe-eyed tip a jug of water over him when I go down filthy liar my nose is absolutely normal it's got character that's all while yours is enormous if a schnozzle that belongs in a synagogue is what that bitch Haggard likes then let her drool kisses all over it and good luck to her kissing it all over will keep her busy for at least an hour that is if she doesn't end up entangled on it like a fish on a hook sometimes Éliane would be Hippolyte sometimes OEnone Phedre the S business was OK the once yes just about OK but thereafter definitely not OK I'm not normal but if I if it's because I wanted to be close to somebody anybody at least I've got that to look back on and also because of my stupid pride in wanting to be desired by somebody anybody S for sex disgusting word by somebody anybody who well just a bit divorce no the poor boy would be dreadfully hurt if only I had a wonderful grandfather to comfort me I'd go and see him in his house he'd live by himself in a house with pines all round it on a clifftop at the end of a long drive of strange trees my secret grandfather would stop playing his harmonium which would go on singing to itself for a moment or two he'd raise his smoking cap such a polite old man another helping of hot water please it's freezing in the bath she always says pearl ease I'd sit on his knee he'd run his wrinkled hand through
his favourite granddaughter's hair no a grandmother would be best living in a house far from anywhere oh it's nasty it's wicked but I have a terrible urge to say that word shout it out loud shout it out of the window yes that is unless she doesn't end up caught on it like a fish on a hook the thing to do would be to take a horsewhip to him so that he'd scream with pain scream damn you scream yes so that he'd scream and beg me to stop tears irunning down his cheeks face all twisted with pain so funny I implore you I ask forgiveness on bended knee and I'll laugh just imagine he's there on his knees without his monocle he beseeches me hands together expression of abject terror but I go swish swish right across his face oooh he winces some more oh no you can expect no mercy from me and he can't get me I'll tie him up tight then I can horsewhip him in comfort as I help myself from a box of chocolate truffles a swish for him and a truffle for me yes I'll put a chain round his hands and his feet too and to be on the safe side a great big thick one about his middle fastened to the wall and swish swish he's pleading but I'm merciless there are tears running from his eyes swish swish on his tears no quarter the tears ran down the cheeks of Solal ben Ali Rum Baba but the plucky young woman went on lashing at him never letting up and over the ignoble face of Ali Rum Baba the red streaks turned into swollen livid welts and he pleaded piteously with her but the luminous girl undaunted flailed on and on swish swish that'll teach you to have such a big nose you beast said our sterling heroine with biting sarcasm there now he's had a damned good hiding can't take any more can't squeeze out any more tears mincemeat so I remove his chains take yourself off to the synagogue and get your cuts seen to by those men with the large noses and the little legs unfortunately his nose isn't all that big a drop more hot water please sweetie-pie thank you she fiddles with her dangly lump when she puts on her sweet and sainted face instead of saying different from she says different to and sometimes even different than and for please she says perlease or even police when she prays in that oily way she's really giving God his orders tells Him to make the sun shine and make sure she doesn't get ill and mind He helps Didi get on in his job and most of all she orders Him to order her to do the things she wants to do and when she asks Him if she should accept an invitation to be president of some charity or other you can bet your boots that God will answer yes dear lady by all means accept or again when she asks God if she is morally justified in going off on a rest cure in the mountains God always answers no doubt about it my dear Antoinette more than justified given all the mental strain you have to put up with so God does everything she wants and she's highly delighted with what He does for her the Lord is her handyman she shall not want Uncle Agrippa isn't like that and her there while her husband was home in bed with a temperature of over a hundred and him too with his countess at her window his sad countess dolled up to the nines waiting by her window every evening her entire life is spent waiting and then midnight chimes and hope dies he won't come now so she takes off her evening dress drops it on the floor poor woman flops on her bed without bothering to take her face off and she cries into her pillow all those flowers all that fruit for nothing and tomorrow it'll be the same all over again but sometimes he turns up on his horse and the brainless creature flings her arms round his neck love-light in her eyes and the great black bird of love swoops down on flapping wings but afterwards he insults her knocks her to the ground kicks her Dietsch admired Maupassant who is horrible how can people admire him there are heaps of horrible things that people admire like Greek noses which make you look stupid or that idiotic smile on the Mona Lisa why are there two 'm's in Mummy answer all the better to mmunch you with dear I'm perfectly self-contained thoughts racing in from all directions like lambs to the shepherd's fold left to myself and it's enough it snuff anyhow I've got my hermit-man to keep me company dear hermit-man he comes whenever I want I feel tense on edge I'll go down and fetch him one good oh calm down try and think of something else the wall trick no better the high-jump right you are I'm standing on the seventh floor I jump out of the window I've jumped I'm falling aaagh through space and I've landed on the so so solid concrete splat not broken anything but I'm aching all over and racked with pain but it's done me good and now I'll try the scenario with the old buffer but close your eyes so it seems more believable right it's a winter night snow silence ahead of me there's this well-dressed gent he's got a bowler hat on and he's walking along a road that winds up a hill I'm behind him I get out my revolver close one eye take careful aim said gent falls down noiselessly in the snow I tread on him he's all soft underfoot I feel calmer but it doesn't last it would take a whole string of little men like him that little delivery horse from the market garden is out at three a.m. in the cold and wet its joints still stiff with sleep it plods along gently head bobbing earnestly up and down obedient conscientious goes wherever its master wants it would go to and fro all night along the same road without protest if its master wanted it to poor little horsey oh the other night at the Johnsons' instead of saying it happened before I was married I said it happened before I was martyred fork folk no shut up it's dirty I won't say it folk no it's not nice oh very well just one more time but that's the last folk Daddy was foreclosed that's how he lost all his pennies Uncle Gri told me how do they foreclose anybody I imagine it's got something to do with banks but focus on foreclose what does it mean exactly focus foreclosed the words sound filthy listen Lady Haggard you bitch go and foreclose yourself there's a statue of a female sphinx just as you go into the Hotel de Russie in the Rue du Mont-Blanc and when I used to go to piano lessons I'd always stop and stare at it a lioness sitting down with a woman's head and torso she had great big breasts which used to worry me I must have been thirteen I used to think about them in bed at night when Éliane and I were sixteen or seventeen we loved Romain Rolland's