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Authors: Eimear McBride

The Lesser Bohemians (14 page)

BOOK: The Lesser Bohemians
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In the dark he says Leave off the light, so instead we shine in the moon and car light. He sits on the mattress while I undress. You need some curtains. I do. You alright with all that chat? Were you really a junkie? I really was, does it bother you? No but I just can't imagine it. Well      that's good     I suppose. It was another kind of life and one I don't plan on returning to so      have you slept with him? Yes. And are you still? I'm not. You can, you know, as far as I'm concerned. I know but it's not like that. Okay, he says. Kicking off my knickers so, I sink onto his lap. He kisses me then and I kiss him back. Too long, he says pulling up the duvet to hide us. Far too long, I agree.

And night. And us, sleeping nose to nose warm. Waking each other up for more. Until we're alone in the world. Half four. Naked in the kitchen, drinking glasses of water, looking down on the High road below. I'm knackered now. And me, I
say. Him tipping drips on my elbow. Me kneeing his knee. Black cab go. To the drips on my breast. Night bus. Touching the drips on his chest. Two cars. Three. Kissing my neck. Come on, and I lead him back to my bed. For what is the night for? Lovers, that's what and how I will think of him now.

*

Jam. Yeah? I think. Raspberry or strawberry? Check the fridge, second shelf is mine. Missus's head round my door Who is the man? HIM. Oh, I see, I'll go talk. Then hear her in the kitchen finding him a knife. Don't forget tea, I shout as excuse to come down. She pointing and mouthing Very handsome, while he pretends not to see. Only stopping his spreading to kiss my cheek. Telling her about Prague and asking things. Her boyfriend stumbling out to demand Czech-sounding Coffee and be, friendly enough, introduced. Translations too then. Turn the radio on. Fuck off Take That. Flatmate roaring KEEP IT DOWN, some of us have an all-day tech. Him laughing through his cigarette Better let Vindice get his beauty sleep. Jammy thumb lick turned to jammy quick kiss until chat, slice, pour gets the better of quiet and rowdier feels just fine. We in my kitchen. Eat toast in my kitchen, for anyone to see.

And hard to kiss goodbye at the corner of Prince of Wales Road with the flatmate's Come the fuck on, we're already late for the call! Him calling after Have a good run! And See you Saturday night!

Mad so, the plummet and hell breaks loose. Opening Night. Tech unfinished. Lighting board crashed. Director panicked. Designer in a huff. Wardrobe Mistress's weary It's always like this, and abdicating pell for its mell. In the dressing room Flatmate drops a card in my lap From the pigeon hole. Rip it open – though scarce half made-up. Postcard of the sea and on its
back Hope it all goes well tonight, break a leg!

Starched and parched I jit in the wings. Flatmate, most dashing, has remembered his lines and all those hours spent chanting seem to have paid off.
Don't drop the tray.
Mouth my own and
Please God don't let me drop the tray.
Cue. DSM Go. Go into the light.
Yes sir and no sirs present and correct. Recalling raw-boned, recreating the life of the country girl who's fled. Here in the city with the Dukes and Dames. I am impressed and think of what I will say in the letter I'll write by candlelight tonight while the bootblack stomps the corridor beneath. Three sisters at home I will tell about silk. The fine perfumes of the fine and handsome gents. How there's one has stole my heart but I'll not give him more, yet. Yes, there he is across the room, deep in conversation but as I pour tea imagine he might look at me so tuck a stray lock back in my cap. I'm not a vain maid and raw-boned means a little obvious too perhaps. True-hearted though. So hide my hands behind my back because they're probably red from skivvying because the skivvy's off and I'm last in so it's my job but I wouldn't want him to see. Too soon though and long before getting his gaze I'm signalled out. Yes madam bob my knees. One last bit of longing as I exit stage left but, poor maid, her heart stays broke.
Over the cables and out behind flats. Three sets of pressed bosoms pushing past How's the house? Good I think, more than three quarters full. Great!

And for all my five lines, goes a good run for me. A little stare at the brink of how life might be. Loneliness loves camaraderie, the fun, fuss, even the fright. Then our relief-giddy traipse out to bow and get clap-salved end of every night. Learn the ritual of cards – mine tight wedged in the mirror by the flatmate's greasepainted Break a leg Slutty Maid! X. Flowers for some or My Mum's in tonight, let's make it a good one! Or the fortunates – quiet – whispering how they've had a call from some agent but
keeping it low so the miscast won't feel bad. Under house lights after, notes on the stage from the Director, Voice teacher, Movement analyst. And in the day, the Principal letting it be known who'll pay for bad work with bad casting next term.

In my free second half I'm usually up smoking in Wardrobe with its Mistress's cough and great gossip from her stack of life in the theatre, this way or that. Tales of the school from when it first begun and all the young Turks out for revolution. Dreadful tales of famous who she knew back when that I love to hear and again. When I tell her about him, she knows who he is. Fantastic Oswald in Ghosts    must be ten years ago now and that 'Tis Pity, my God he was good. So how old must he be? And how old are you? Tut tut, though I can't say blame you and that voice of his      ffffff      like a cave.

Terrible nerves but, Saturday night, knowing he'll be in. If he thinks I'm useless. You've got five lines, besides – her strapping me down – Your cups over-runneth so I doubt he'll see much beyond! Oh no, don't say that! Why? she laughs Or have men suddenly stopped being men?

Crane in the wings but can't see a thing. Even sneak looks at the audience during. Only at the end though, spot him there at the back, giving us all the good clap so I drop my best bow his way.

Third Years hug in the dressing room, whooping relief and cracking open champagne some rich one's aunt sent. Unloosing me from my dress, the Wardrobe Mistress says I was in the foyer before when your man walked past. How'd you like the maid? I said. He said Why do you ask? I said She was nervous. Ah, she was great, he laughed Lovely presence, don't you think? She has, I said, giving him a wink. You didn't? Oh God, but I'm shame-delight red. Well done all, yells the Director
across the mayhem Now let's go get very drunk.

Unringing ringlets, I weave the canteen. Not in the foyer. Sideways out through the throng and there he is, by the fence beyond, smoking a cigarette. Hey curly! But in my hop down get a fly in the eye Ow! Rub it to watering. Let me see it, he licking a finger, preparing to poke. Careful careful. Look right up     there I've got it     now     try not to rub     there – tiny dead midge that he flicks. You were great by the way, but Hello stranger, and he. Straightens abruptly. Turns around. Standing behind, a woman in white. Older, beautiful, elegant and Oh God, I tongue-tie at her fame. Hello, he says offering a hand but she rolls her eyes so he must kiss her instead. I haven't seen you since the funeral, she says Let me look at you. And she looks at him like she's looking, then touches his face. You look tired. I'm fine, he says Been away on location, you know how it gets      so      what are you doing here? Oh they want me on the Board      you know, ever since it's like I'm made of gold and everybody wants a piece. You'll manage all the adulation, he says. Yes, I expect I will. Both go Anyway, then laugh and she But what brings you up to these wilds? When steps he to show me No! she says No! It's not! No! My God! I can't believe it! and I am caught in her arms. No wait! he cuts sharp across but I'm rich perfume up close now, delicate crow's feet and kissed, thrill-bewildered. Oh my darling, she's saying You're all grown up, your father must be so      Don't, he says Stop, this isn't her. Oh? she says, setting me down I'm sorry, my mistake, and there I was about to launch down memory lane about you bringing her to the dressing room but of course that was only     well     how many years since that Seagull now? Fifteen, he says.
Fifteen.
And his quiet face. As many as that? Yes I suppose you're right – and releases me completely – But you were in the play, that's why you
seem familiar, what a charming performance you gave, how do you know each other? I look over to but he's looking away. W we're     friends, I say. Yes I'm sure you are   well   I think I've embarrassed myself enough for one night. Lovely to meet you – like kiss of the signet – and you my love should get some rest and, as usual, take better care of yourself, speaking of which – manicure drumming his chest – how's all of that? Fine, thanks. Truly? Yes. I know you hate a fuss so I won't press but really, my darling, I have to tell you, this protracted bachelorhood is making you odd. Yes, he says That's something you've mentioned before. I mean, how old is this jacket? she mock-exasperates his cuffs Time for another trip to Harvey Nick's, no now don't pull that face, was that or was that not a beautiful suit? Beautiful, he mollifies but fond sounding too of whatever this memory is. Well then give me another kiss and let's not keep leaving it to chance to meet. So he kisses her again Give everyone my best. I'll be sure to and, I mean it, take care of yourself – turns she then, then turns again – And little girl? Good luck!

Spell and probably waft of Chanel, people part for her path. Out to the car waiting. Knees in then heels up. Slam and immaculate exit. Ignore her, he says dropping his cigarette as, laid bare, I uncoil at curls and rankle. Did you bring your case? Yeah, I'll get it from inside. But my legs make pools all the way back in, perhaps from the wade and wade.

He shoulders it Coming? We make onto the street. A chiller night than planned to be. Preoccupied silences pushing between, part buffeted by others racing down to the Crown. Coming for a drink? No do. No come. No. Okay, see you next term. Until we're at Malden Road. You hungry? crossing to Barnacle Bill's. Starving. Come on then, and he steps in Two large, open please, anything else? No, that's fine.

Chip smells close the distance as we trek on down. You were great tonight. Really? I had five lines. Not many lines but so much soul and that dress had a vivid inner life of its own! Oh that doesn't sound pervy at all     what about him? Vindice? Not bad actually. He had a lot to carry and I thought he managed it pretty well. The trick with      How old is your little girl? Fuck, he says This bag of yours weighs a ton, how about stopping here til we're fed? Alright, and sit on a bench in the damp. Talacre gardens opening empty behind but, across, the Grafton Arms making plenty of life. He eats his chips though like displacing quiet. Head down. One by one. So I eat and bide but he eats on. I know you don't like talking about her but      Nothing. Chews til his mouth is clear and only at wiping his hand on the paper says I was twenty-two when she came so      she's sixteen, seventeen in June. And it falls through the air like the starting of rain. Put my hand out into, trying to grasp what it means but can't. Or don't, so say You must find it strange      I do find it strange, he says. Is it strange though? Yes it is      why do you think I didn't call you all those weeks before Christmas? I didn't know. No      how could you     I suppose. Why didn't you tell me before? I don't know   it was never the right time      the day you asked about her picture it wasn't like I thought I'd see you again      after that we were always      well      There were plenty of times you could've      Maybe but    this wasn't supposed to be      More the sex? You know what I mean. And now it is? He nods So here comes the fucking mess. Why's that? You're practically the same age as my daughter      what do you think that makes me? I don't know. Well I do, he says. Really? I make you that ashamed? Yes      no      not you      myself      I mean   what the fuck am I playing at? I mean      if you were thirty-eight, even twenty-eight, twenty-five      What? I don't
know. Well I don't know either. And the truth is all I can see is this is harder for him than it is for me. Would be again for her, though isn't, I'm sure. Does she know about me? Does she fuck! I would never discuss sex with her. I don't mean sex I just No, she's my daughter and I      can't even see her that way. What way? Being older      being nearly seventeen and   I know she is but      I haven't seen her since she was eight and I haven't really been her father since she was younger than that and, despite the hours of staring at photographs, I can't seem to make my head make up the time. Which makes So how much do you love her? go all around mine. To not ask I light a cigarette. Smoke and pass. He smokes it and. I. He. I. Then back. Lay my head on his shoulder. He allows that and both breathe out the breeze. I can't stop thinking about Sunday night. Me too, he says. Do you wish we hadn't? No, I don't. Do you want me to go back to my own tonight? No but I can't think this is normal, can I? Why not? Can't you think what you want? That's not how it works, there's right and wrong. And I'm wrong? You're not. But being with me is? Yes. Fuck you. I get up. No! Wait! he catches my wrist It's not as simple as that and   there's just      there's a lot that you don't know. I want you anyway, I say Do you still want me? I do. Well that seems pretty simple so      let's just go back to yours. Jesus, he – eyes supplicating the sky, cross to the Grafton, down to mine – and breathes out Alright      let's go.

Maybe against his will I hold his hand. He lets me though, now and then swaps the bag but also indulges my Tell me one thing, what's the story with her? Nothing      she's always like that. We did The Seagull together. It was my first proper job. She played Arkadina. I was Konstantin. One thing led to another. There was some carry-on. Not more serious? No, not for me, but enough for her to wreck something I should have been
more careful of    anyway    any chance that'll do? For tonight, I grant and at last he laughs. Then we're fine walking through the scurf streets side by side. My back moulding to the bridge under Kentish Town West where I persuade him to lean and chippy-kiss. Later I'll ask more. Further from this. After. Once we've made our way home.

BOOK: The Lesser Bohemians
7.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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