Authors: Albert Cohen
Ponderous, urgent, consumed by its purpose, the train lurched, gave a sudden cry of despair, and hurtled bone-shakingly into the tunnel with a crazed shriek of terror. A white eyelid closed immediately over the half-shut window and smoke billowed into the compartment. Victims of man,, the stones and rails of the tunnel bounced their loudly echoing protests against the black, oozing walls, like martyrs bellowing their anger, boomingly cursing the hulking, obstreperous, panicking intruder, which hurried on, bustling, rocking, lunging in its headlong course. At the end of the tunnel the wrath abated, though a few echoes still reverberated against the smoke-blackened walls, where they were suddenly calmed by white smoke and all fury vanished along with the walls.
Delivered and assuaged now that it was free of the darkness and the hell, the train emerged once more into gentle countryside, awkward and eager, resuming its steady rhythm through the verdant fields and the rediscovered smell of grass. Lulled by its muted clanking, borne smoothly onwards, Adrien Deume stroked the soft red plush of the seat and smiled at his naked wife, who sat next to him.
'And now I come to the high point. Believe it or not, but the evening of the day I had my audience with the High Commissioner, a special messenger shows up with an invitation to lunch with His Excellency: proof positive of the first-class impression I had made! And the invitation was for the next day, a Sunday. Apparently invitations to Sunday lunch are a special mark of favour with the English. It was printed on beautiful vellum and had the official arms of Great Britain embossed on it in gold, with an engraved text requesting the pleasure and so forth, though of course my name was written in ink, in a fine, round hand, I've kept it to show you. Terribly impressive, as you'll see. It had my Christian name too. And an Esq. But to proceed. Anyway, next day at one on the dot I'm standing outside the residence, dressed up to the nines. I give the sergeant of the guard
carte blanche,
to wit my invite, and immediately he snaps to attention, salutes me smartly, and lets me pass. Looking supremely unconcerned, I proceed to the main steps and there, take note, both sentries present arms! You see, dear Madame, the sort of treatment your hubby gets! I would have liked you to have been there. Or to be there, if you prefer. After fifty-seven varieties of stone staircases and vast antechambers, an aide ushers me into an imposing room. His Excellency stands up as I enter. Like I told you, he's a field marshal. His Excellency Field Marshal Lord Plummer. We shake hands, I give an imperceptible little bow, thanking him for the honour and so forth, maintaining air of unconcern, projecting image of young diplomat thoroughly at home with protocol. Naturally, I kissed the hand of Lady Plummer, who arrived shortly after me, deep bow this time, it all went off very well. Next, cocktails, stuffed olives, conversation on a range of political, economic and social matters. After this a flunkey appeared and informed Lady Plummer, Her Ladyship he said, that luncheon was served. General exodus towards dining-room, with me offering Lady Plummer my arm and consequently being first in! Fortunately the aide had taken me aside and tipped me the wink in advance. Heavens, if you could have seen me ceremoniously leading the way with the wife of an English field marshal! Superb dining-room, impeccable standard of service, we are waited on by Arabs two yards tall in dazzling white djellabas with red-silk sashes round their middles, table sparkling with crystal, tableware engraved with the official arms of Great Britain! You felt the sheer power, had a sense of being part of the inner circle. I tell you, it took my breath away. Tomorrow I'll read you my notes in full, they're very detailed, how I behaved over lunch, who the other guests were, every one a luminary of the first water, yet it was little old me who got to escort Lady Plummer in! (He poked out his tapered tongue, then withdrew it immediately.) But I'll tell you about it all properly tomorrow, the various courses, I've noted them all down, the topics of conversation, all in English of course, and my contributions, which I think I can describe without false modesty as rather witty but subtle, a mix of Gallic charm and diplomacy! And sat on the right hand of Lady Plummer! But I'll save all that for tomorrow, my notes are very detailed, I wrote them up the moment I got back to the King, while my memories were still fresh. Just one other thing, the lunch I had subsequently with the aide, a delightful young captain, old tided family, Eton and Oxford, spoke marvellous French, highly cultured. I invited him to lunch at the King the following day. We drank champagne from start to finish! Anyhow, in the course of the conversation, I happened to mention, without any ulterior motive, that I was fed up at the prospect of having to wait another week for a seat on the plane, of course I said upset not fed up. He gave a mysterious, reserved sort of smile, you know, very old English aristocracy. I didn't realize what that smile meant till the following day, when he rang me at the King to inform me, hold on tight, to inform me that one of the seats officially set aside for the use of the bureau of the High Commission was mine if I wanted it, on a flight that very evening. Imagine that! A VIP seat! For the record, that means a Very Important Person. Takes your breath away, doesn't it? But at least it gives you some idea of what pull and influence can do, that's what it's all about, you don't get anywhere if you haven't got connections and contacts. But I'll fill you in on the rest tomorrow. By the by, you have kept all my letters, haven't you? Because I stuck in a lot of local-colour stuff as a reminder for when I write up my official mission report. Good, capital! Because they'll come in handy for padding out the notes I took after each meeting. I hardly need say that I intend to cook up a report and a half. It'll create a stir, you can take that from me! Of course, I'll tart it up here and there, you know, the usual putting flesh on dry bones. Now, administratively speaking, I should be reporting to VV, who is then supposed to decide whether there are grounds for passing it on upstairs. So according to protocol the only name I should put at the start of my screed is VV's and nobody else's. But I know VV of old, he can't stand to see members of his section making a splash, especially if he feels they are potential rivals and therefore dangerous. So if I stick just his name down he'll hush my report up, because he'll realize it's just the sort of thing to get me noticed, he won't pass it on to higher authority, he'll just sit on it! Which means that, after giving the matter serious thought, I've decided to put a spoke in his wheel by taking the bull by the horns, and shall send my report straight to the top, through the usual channels of course, that is, by putting his name at the top of the report, then the name of my good chum Solal who has overall charge of the Mandates Section, and then Sir John's, no less! Yes, darling, Sir John himself, and that's final! Good wheeze, isn't it? Now don't go telling me I've no business sending my report to Sir John since according to regulations reports of official visits never go chrectly to him! Because I've got my answer ready if VV sticks his oar in! There are always exceptions! The fact is Lord Plummer, who is a field marshal for goodness' sake, which is the highest rank in the British rnilitary establishment, Lord Plummer, I
repeat, High Commissioner for Palestine, KCMG, CB and so forth, personally asked me to convey his very best regards to Sir John! So I am duty-bound to convey same! That's my story and I'm sticking to it! I am therefore fully authorized to send my official report to the most senior of my superiors! QED. Anyway, VV will work it out for himself and I won't hear a squeak out of him and you can rest assured that he'll be too scared not to forward it! Lord Plummer! How about that!'
He yawned, stood up, and leaned his forehead against the window. A horse on a knoll peered sadly at the grass, then on a doorstep a little girl held a baby on her knee, a wall flashed past roaring like an angry sea at the lurching train, haystacks retreated rapidly, a peasant with a pitchfork on his shoulder stood by a gate as still as a scarecrow, and the mangy wagons of a goods train trundled by.
He sat down again, yawned, and stared at his nails. Buff them up ten minutes before they got into Geneva. She must have got a sheaf of invitations to cocktail parties now that he was an A. The question was, knowing what she was like, had she gone to the parties? She hadn't said anything about parties in her letters. Nor was there any word of the Kanakises, who after all owed them a dinner. Perhaps they were waiting for him to get back. In any case, must return the USG's invitation, to keep the contact going, and do it soon, make the most of the fact that Mummy and Dada weren't in Geneva. The USG was bound to accept, seeing that he had invited them first. Kill two birds with one stone and ask the Petrescos, who drew a lot of water. They wouldn't have to be asked twice, because he'd mention that the USG was coming. No, on second thoughts, not the Petrescos, he didn't want competition, and in any case Petresco, he of the confident, man-of-the-world air, was quite capable of hogging the conversation over dinner.
Matter-of-factly, the ticket-collector walked past chanting the name of the next station in a non-human voice. Five forty-five. Five minutes from now, Delemont, and three hours from now, Geneva! After all, she was his wife, for goodness' sake, and dammit he'd been deprived for three months, even though he'd been tempted at Beirut, but tarts weren't his style, besides there was always the risk of catching something unspeakable, so no thank you very much, not his style at all.
'Got this terrible urge, old bean, and I'm telling you now that I shan't be saying no to a spot of conjugal duty tonight! Believe you me, the bedsprings will be going like the Hallelujah Chorus! The minute I'm back, old man, I'll start my approach, I won't bother over-much with the formalities even if she holds back, because she's always been like that. Mind you, it isn't that she doesn't want to deep down, but she never shows it, it's a question of modesty with her, of reserve, respectable woman and all that, you see, also a matter of aristocratic distance, because, old man, without wishing to offend you, your wife and mine are chalk and cheese. No, don't poke your head out of the window, because of smut-in-eye. They say Swiss trains will soon be powered by electricity, it'll be cleaner, won't get so dirty. Splendid. Excellent.'
Five forty-seven. Two minutes nearer her. At nine, Cologny. At nine fifteen, Ariane naked, just for him. Five forty-eight. Delemont in one minute. 'Go to it, get a move on,' he told the train.
CHAPTER 70
Six o'clock I've heaps of time Yours Yours O my love why can't you be here with me in this scrumptious hot bath it would be lovely just the two of us never mind if a bit cramped for both we'd make enough room somehow we'd think of a way the way that's as old as Adam yes I know I've said all this about getting into the bath with me before I keep repeating myself Eve was the first stupid woman to say nobody understands my Adam no one realizes how wonderful he is or put it another way all the things I say about you my darling I wonder if chickens sneeze or at least if they do sometimes they're perfectly entitled to catch cold aren't they thirty years from now I'll be no it's too horrible never mind I won't be old tonight there's heaps of time I feel oh so crazily tender when he's asleep so vulnerable his face shines with a grace that is beyond the beauty of man I feel crazy too when I catch a glimpse of his wrists so slender sometimes I feel suddenly sick with myself for loving him so much now what was I saying ah yes Yours Yours I wallow in Yours Yours yes but perhaps if he hadn't met me he'd be wiring Yours to Elizabeth Vanstead to be honest I wouldn't mind if all her teeth dropped out no steady on not a gummy mouth that's not a nice thing to wish on anybody so just let her lose a couple one of her front teeth would do just enough to make her a teeny-weeny bit repulsive I find myself too attractive I like looking at myself let's face it I fancy myself if it wasn't him there would be somebody else and if the somebody else was an explorer I'd be crazy about the Amazon or if he was a biologist about pickled flies in jars no that's not true there's no one but him he's the only one anyway believing that is an article of faith do Catholics really believe in all the things they believe in why is it that you say everyone must remember to take his hat off even when everyone includes women too it's not fair why is it that you can't say everyone must remember to take her hat off why is God always a man that's not fair either what a pathetic spectacle me just now scrubbing myself down nothing but a slave who lives to please her master woman's lot is unfair always waiting and hoping and titivating what have stupid men got that we haven't we're pathetic always having to be pretty and elegant and fragile and demure and waiting and accepting and he takes me too much for granted getting into Geneva at seven twenty-two and not showing up here until nine and all because Mr Too-Big-for-His-Boots wants to look his best maybe an hour in the bath and a very close shave that's your feminine side showing my lad and no less feminine are those peeps in the mirror you peep in the mirror a shade too often it's a weakness dear and so stagy with his dressing-gowns far too elegant and too long yes dear that's what we're like we slaves we say nothing we look doe-eyed but we don't miss a trick only we're very tolerant got the message have you dear what awful trouble Stalin goes to all the time he has to keep an eye on everything trust nobody have people spied on and killed and all for the stupid exhausting fun of being in charge when he sees me home in the car I always kiss his cuffs before saying good-night because they're so well tailored and finest silk worship of might which is the power to kill you see my dear I'm a good pupil I'd like him to whip me on the back very hard so it- raised stripy welts red to begin with then white like a brand to show I belong to him I want it to hurt to make me cry out with such pain that I beg him to stop but no he goes on yes beat me more my darling aim lower no further down further yes that's it hit me hard first the right cheek then the left it's because I was brought up properly that I say right cheek left cheek the special ones at the base of my spine beat them hard please beat them till the blood flows oh thank you thank you darling get into the bath I am your earth and you are my master and my ploughman plough me good that's enough of that it's not healthy to think about ploughing especially when you're in the bath no I don't think they can sneeze there's a spot on the top of my head that's still tender it's the fontanelle all babies have one I've still got mine another feminine thing about Bigboots is that he doesn't want me to meet him at the station because he's never properly shaved when he gets off the train Bigboots wants to be seen looking his best but you're always handsome too handsome when I'm not there he'll get to the Ritz at twenty to eight at the latest shall I ring him at twenty to eight no hearing his voice on the phone would be like having a preview of part of him it would be a damper on the lovely shock of seeing all of him walk through the door suddenly his voice his expression and all the rest if I ring it'll spoil the magic of his entrance it would be like eating before a meal just a small piece of cake
paaarlez-moi d'amooour
tell me again you love me it's silly but I like it feel like yawning go on then yawn aaah it's not the same when I touch them angels are a pain their music must be like Cesar Franck only worse they're eunuchs with wings and I feel sick when I think of the spot where their wings are attached to their shoulders if I was in heaven I could never bear to touch that spot I think it must be hard and soft like a part of the chicken that's difficult to carve Antoinette is vulgar when I was little Uncle Gri always used to stand up when Tantlérie came into the room and thereafter if he saw that she wanted to go out he'd open the door for her and she would respond with an acknowledgement you know a little smile or a murmured thank you when the Kanakises came to dinner whenever Antoinette was at a loss for something to say because Kanakis and Didi were going on and on about books she'd never heard of she'd lean over her plate and jab with her fork with an amused clever smile on her face a witty flippant smile like a countess lost in her own thoughts as much as to say if I'm not saying anything it's solely because my mind's full of ultra-sophisticated
pensees
do people lean their heads against windows to think better in real life or is it just characters in novels we've got the message Herr Kafka you're a genius but for heaven's sake put a sock in it thirty pages of your genius are quite enough for anyone to see just how boring a genius you are though nobody would dare say so out loud not under the present reign of terror I'll smooth his eyebrows I'll reach my hands under his jacket to hold him fast and feel him close to me hold him tight so he can't run away he gets these moods seems so distant at times he makes me tremble with love I am
his fair and his beloved he said so in the telegram Herr Kafka we've got your drift which is about feeling guilty when you've done nothing wrong but you do go on it gets tedious basically guilty-but-innocent is in fact the big Jewish theme it's the tragedy of the Jew I am fair and beloved of my lord I must tell him in case he's in an accident to put a note in his wallet saying they can contact damn my name's Deume all the fuss they make about Lindbergh after all he's only the driver of a taxi with wings who can joggle a joystick basically I get very cross about anything that does not sing Sol's praises and trumpet the greatness of his talents that's how silly women in love are they're forever bleating my Adam my Tom my Dick my Harry and they all say nobody else understands him I'm the only one who does my Adam my Tom my Dick my Harry is a genius they're pathetic the whole stupid gang of women in love Proust is marvellous but what a ghasdy little snob all that hysterical flattering of Anna de Noailles and being entranced by aristocratic names like Oriane and Bazin and Palamede he drools reverently over them the little name-licker I haven't written much to the awful lawful but when I did write I was very nice to him geniuses know that genius means persistence morons believe it's a gift we'll go and put flowers on his cat's grave together Sol dresses perfectly and his table manners are
trés comme il faut
that evening at the Ritz when I gave him my cigarette-case he pressed it against the scar on his eyelid surely that meant he forgave me for shying that glass at him men used to frighten me especially that certain something men have but not any more to redeem those two words I spoke I'll convert and become a good Jewish girl he's right how is it possible that intelligent people on our side can believe such stupid things it's the fear of dying that makes them so stupid oh it was such a fine and noble thing to want to be loved disguised as a horrible old man he said the dress I wore to the Brazilian reception when he fell in love with me at the first flutter of my eyelashes was very beautiful so I'll have another made just like it oh oh I'm freezing in this bath a drop more hot water please that'll do thanks when he gets here tonight try and hang on to reserve as long as poss keep your distance be pleasant but a shade stand-offish so he gets worried a touch of the ice-queen listen to what he says in such a way that he starts feeling uneasy answer along the lines of I don't know and maybe in a blase sort of tone and then after a quarter of an hour of making him suffer suddenly come over all eager and loving another good ploy might be to leave the front door open so that he discovers me sitting down all regal and not getting up and holding out my hand for him to kiss he doesn't have such an effect on me when I'm sitting down or again I could be strolling in the garden and when I see him in the sitting-room looking lost because there's no one there I make my entrance all unconcerned no I couldn't I'd be far too excited I'd rush in like a dying duck and fall over my feet so the thing to do is to fling myself into his arms the moment he appears and eat him up with doe-eyed kisses the very first night after the Ritz quite unexpectedly there was a lot of wild kissing and tonguing on the sofa how awful doing that with someone I didn't know I was taken completely aback by those first kisses I always thought that kissing was just lips the thing should be made a great deal clearer in novels they say burning kisses and so on but I'd never have believed this other way was possible I used to think it was lips on lips and that was that but no you open your mouth three exclamation marks and then there's pandemonium and confusion of tongues as they say in the Old Testament my God if anybody had told me that some day I'd love to feel my I can't say the word mingling with the I can't say it of some man I'd never have believed it you must be mad I'd have said is it something that just he does or do other people do it too I wonder if Mummy and Daddy ever no surely not but Catholics probably do or maybe it's something he invented himself I was ashamed at first when his I can't say the word mingled with my I can't say it yes so ashamed but I persevered it was so amazingly intimate a thing to happen between a gentleman and a lady who hardly knew each other and were all of a sudden rummaging around in each other's mouths exploring gobbling yes I was terribly ashamed but pretty soon I stopped feeling ashamed and started to think it was nicer by the minute just think if Tantlérie had seen me I was every bit as good at it as he was and I'd never had any lessons either I got the hang of it straight off there were tons of kisses that first evening maybe five hundred all told and every one delicious tsk Ariane really I was in my element snorkelling away miles deep kissing like that is sublime but it also makes you want to laugh when you're alone and think about it afterwards because kisses like those can cause the most ridiculous kerfuffle yes I think you could call them have you anything-to-declare kisses because it's a bit like having some lunatic customs man poking around frantically in your suitcase quick quick turn everything upside down not a minute to lose I'm a funny sort of person even when I'm being perfectly serious inside I've simply got to have a giggle and say things such as kisses being like a crazy deranged rampaging customs man going round in a flap rummaging through your suitcase to see if you're trying to smuggle anything I think I'd curl up and die if he ever heard me babbling like this but when I'm with him I'm quite different I'm poetic and yet I'm just as much myself as I am at this very minute a drop more hot water please I wonder if a lot of snorkelling goes on generally do other people do it too if so it's too galling for instance a queen doing it with the king it's fine when we do it but not other people for it to be all right both parties must be very good-looking imagine Antoinette doing it for example I mean it would be horrendous is there a word for these eating kisses going-through-customs kisses cavern kisses snorkelling kisses fruity kisses that's it fruity kisses is just right because deep-down the world tastes so fresh when you're in love oops you sound like a silly factory-girl I was horribly embarrassed that first evening in the dark when he leaned over my neck well actually a bit lower it was awful but also awfully marvellous scatter a few improving books here and there on the sofa make it look casual leave one open to suggest me-reading-the-
Essays
-of-Montaigne-while-waiting-for-him sort of style no perhaps not Montaigne evokes crabby old schoolmarm best make it Kafka but if he asks questions he'll know I've only read a couple of pages I'd better get stuck into the complete works of Kafka at once buy a few Heideggers and something by other crashing old bores and also read a history of philosophy I've got an incentive now to improve my mind can't think why but I've suddenly got this urge to tell myself all about our first evening together yes go on tell us all about that first evening here goes in his drawing-room at the Ritz when he said goodbye I suddenly turned into something out of a Russian novel Nastasia Philipovna obsequiously salaaming and kissing his hand shut your eyes for a mental picture of what happened then he whispered glory be to God people say glory be to God when they're being very serious did he say it just for something to say or does he really believe in God when I kissed his hand I really meant it if there is no life hereafter all the true believers will never know whether it's true or not once they're dead they have all the luck no it wasn't him who said it was all a load of rubbish he's far too polite too sardonic I'm the one who says it's all rubbish anyway I withdraw the word rubbish I shouldn't have said salaaming O my love I'm not laughing at you please believe me it's just the way I go on you must believe that even if deep-down I'm very respectful I only say these things when I'm by myself because it's the way I'm made you can take it or leave it or take it please you do see it's just a cover because basically I'm rather shy then afterwards we danced in the ballroom at the Ritz he said awesome in your beauty then he said his soul flew out and clung to my long curved lashes sort of like a fish on a hook oh thinking back it wasn't very nice of me to have given him that cigarette-case which was a present from my awful lawful who is not my anything really but I'd forgotten that it was a present from the awful lawful but anyway since he gave it me as a present it was mine and I was perfectly entitled to do whatever I liked with it Didi poor pet what's happening to him is quite dreadful after the Ritz we came on here in his car yellow chauffeur white uniform huge blue Rolls who cares odd he can't drive obviously being ferried everywhere in a palanquin all the time is more his style his love perpetually released so that he might contemplate it and then folded away once more and shut up and kept in his heart I love that folded away Varvara would never have said that oh he's a brute but nice underneath while the rest are nice but brutes deep down fancy being in love with Varvara what a peculiar idea basically she was ordinary and sentimental and affected it's dreadful she's dead I should respect her memory she would never have gone on about baboons and spiders with her it was girly-talk and pretty-pretty stuff all the time in a little while I'll simply have to take a peep at my ravishing long curved lashes remember never buy accessories such as belts gloves handbags without first checking to see that everything matches read the Old Testament again though it's an awful bore a pink animal in ribbons a gardener's wife with her child a young lady with white cats hot water please you would not be seeking me had you not already found me that's a notion which makes people drool but personally I don't think it's at all profound actually I think it's rather silly with more sleight-of-word than truth to it a little girl named Lucie all alone in a tent in the middle of the African bush she wore pretty pyjamas with vertical red and green stripes she had a very small jaguar for a friend and she used him for a hot-water bottle in bed that cat of his ought to have been called Fluff not Kitty and then its kitten could have been called Fluffy I knew a cat called Fluffy which looked so drab and scruffy it spilt its milk and made a fuss and so I called it Blunderpuss what a nerve saying doe-eyed to my face and afterwards I danced all abject and only too happy to be doe-eyed such darling nerve there's something else I should do which is to say sorry for throwing the glass still how was I to know it was him never mind what's done is done the greatest leaders make mistakes so put it down to experience least said soonest mended after the Ritz we came back here little sitting-room gazed at the sky together me afloat on honey played the chorale awfully well when I'd finished turned round prettily and faced him charming serious sincere he was deeply moved I could feel it remember not to have it cleaned by just anybody there's a shop that specializes in cleaning suede in that little street I move around too much when I play the piano it shows up in my behind I must be more careful perhaps get myself a girdle that way curves less visible no you feel imprisoned besides it's bad for the circulation and then when he holds me close his hand strays down to well sometimes not always aind I wouldn't want him to find elasticated fabric down there that wouldn't be much of a welcome and anyway what's a few curves curves are part of the female anatomy men like er well let's say hips and so do I too I think they're attractive but breasts much more so especially mine which are marmoreal it's tasteless to say marmoreal but when you're by yourself you can afford to be a weeny bit vulgar it's fun Solal is my bestest friend oh how I love him exclamation mark he loves me like a tender brother oh how he loves me exclamation mark here below relations friends and everything else may pass but he goes on for ever and by his grace he never wearies of me oh how