Catastrophe Practice (33 page)

The woman said ‘We were anxious, we thought you —'

When she turned to him again there was pale hair, brown face, dark eyes; a slight bruise at the side of one eye as if she were an apple.

He said ‘— might have been murdered.'

She said ‘Yes.'

He thought — When she doesn't finish her sentences she is like a fisherman; or like God, in thigh-length boots, with a hook —

He said ‘I might have been.'

The baby's behind was now towards him: its head, at her back, seemed to struggle to get round.

He sat down on the sofa and held out his arms to it.

He thought — If the baby were a god it would be like Janus; two-faced; seeing both in and out —

He said ‘Nobody loves me!'

He thought — Or with herself at the centre, a pivot, like Atlas, they would be three —

He took the baby. He threw it up and down. It held its arms out like a bird.

She said ‘He loves you.'

He said ‘I'm old.'

He thought — A baby is like an earth, breaking away, but being held, by its sun —

She said ‘What happened?'

He said ‘They played Beethoven at my lecture.'

Each time he caught the baby, and held it, the baby crowed, and beamed.

‘Why?'

‘They didn't like what I said.'

‘But did they hear what you said —'

‘Exactly.'

The baby had leaned down and was trying to put its fingers into his ears, his eyes.

He said ‘Awa. Awa. Goo goos.'

He put the baby down. He held it by the hands, as it stood on the floor, as if to see if it would walk.

He said ‘You can't fly?'

The baby held out its arms to its mother.

He said ‘I told you not to open that door.'

She said ‘I heard you outside.'

He thought he could say — You heard someone.

She took the baby. She undid her blouse. She sat on the sofa behind him. She took out a breast, and gave it to the baby.

He thought — From that breast, like a planet, I used to hang.

They were in a group, side by side, with the baby between them. He thought — Like a piece of sculpture; or in someone's mind.

He said ‘You two had a fight —'

Yes.'

‘What about?'

She was holding her breast and pulling it to help the baby. He thought — A breast is like a penis?

She said ‘Oh well he had that girl, you know, coming for a sort of audition —'

He said ‘What girl?'

‘Judith. Juliet.'

He thought — Do I say: But she was at my lecture!?

She said ‘But it wasn't really that.'

‘What was it?'

‘I was horrid.'

‘How?'

The baby was pulling at her breast. He thought — Do women now have everything — breasts, penises, truth?

She said ‘I wanted to hurt him. I said — You think you can do everything! You think you're God!'

He said ‘Ah, and that was horrid?'

She said ‘Yes. And so he hit me.'

The woman, who was called Lilia, was some thirty years younger than the Professor: with her pale hair, brown face, dark eyes, she was something hot, looking out, like a squirrel.

The Professor got up and went through into a bedroom, where there was a four-poster bed. The curtains of a small window were drawn. The room was slightly airless, as if people had been sleeping there.

He picked up off the floor a rattle, a toy hammer, a woollen sock, some plastic pants. He sat on the edge of the bed. He thought — These fragments she takes with her into each of her different worlds —

He called — ‘What shall we do to your mum to keep her? tie her to a bedpost?'

Lilia had come to the bedroom door. She said ‘I know it might have been him outside in the passage.'

She came and stood close to the Professor. He put his arms round her. He put his head against her skirt.

She said ‘Thank you.'

‘For what?'

‘For putting us up.'

He said ‘For not putting it up.'

She said ‘Do you want to?'

He thought — Is there a Madonna like this; at a deposition, with a breast out?

She said ‘You know I know how to make him angry.' Then — ‘Perhaps I wanted to see you: it was awful when you weren't here.'

He said ‘Your baby will look after you.'

She stroked his head.

Looking up, past her, but still holding her tightly, he said ‘Where is your baby?'

‘On the floor.'

‘Well, look out for the window.'

As he said this there was a slight pressure, going in and out, as if from a distant explosion.

He said to himself as if quoting — A sort of terror, breaking —

Lilia left him and went into the sitting-room.

Lying on his back, and looking up at the canopy of the four-poster
bed which was like a baldacchino above an altar, he thought — But am I not godfather, if not god, to both the girl and the child?

Lilia called — ‘There's a fire.'

‘Where?'

‘Come and see. It's in the direction of the Old Science Buildings.'

He sat up. He said ‘Well it's nothing to do with my lecture.'

He went through into the sitting-room where Lilia had drawn back a corner of a curtain. She was looking out into the night. She had picked up her baby.

She said ‘Who is it then?'

He said ‘The Liberation Army.'

He held a finger out to the baby; who took hold of it, and beamed.

She said ‘What do they want?'

He said as if he were quoting ‘— The destruction of everything: or that something new may grow —'

He thought — What will the baby learn then?

She said ‘I'd better go back.'

He thought — Coloured lights, shapes, music.

He said ‘No, stay here.'

He thought — Cherubs: gods and goddesses on the ceiling.

He went round the flat opening windows. Then he came back into the sitting-room and drew the curtain shut. Then he went round closing doors.

He said ‘Go into the bedroom and get under the bed if there are any more explosions.'

She said ‘What will you do?'

He thought — Oh these enormous events elsewhere! like eels, like turtles, breeding.

She had sat down on the sofa. It was as if she were about to cry.

He said, tickling the baby again, ‘What goes on in that huge head!'

There was another explosion; from closer; the curtain blowing in and out.

The Professor had the impression — he was tired — of some
presence, or presences, entering the room; taking up their position round the walls; saying to himself, to Lilia, to the baby — Look, if you feel yourselves prisoners, with one great jump —

Lilia said ‘I hope they all kill themselves!'

He thought — Perhaps mothers can say this.

He sat down again beside Lilia. The baby was lying across their laps.

He said — ‘Promise —'

‘What'

He thought — To be here when I get back?

Then — Promises are not true!

He put a hand up and touched the bruise on her cheek. He said ‘Did it hurt?'

She said ‘No.'

He thought — We should be out in the streets like hostages — myself, the boy with fair hair, the girl, the one who is like Cleopatra —

He said ‘That girl was at my lecture.'

She said ‘What girl?' Then — ‘Oh.'

The baby, with its dark intelligent eyes, looked up at him. He thought — Turn with that bright eye on them, and your enemies will fall dead.

He put a finger on the centre of the baby's forehead.

He said ‘Get it out, get it out, don't be frightened.'

She said ‘Get out what —'

He said ‘That little eye, the third one, with which you see inwards: with which you look down on yourself from the ceiling.'

He stood up. He went to the door. He turned and smiled at her and her baby.

She said ‘If you throw him up, he always knows there's someone there to catch him!'

He said ‘I'll be at the Old Science Buildings.'

A man in a high-necked sweater and corduroy trousers sat on top of a radiator with his hands under his thighs and his toes pointing inwards. Occasionally he lifted himself as if he were over a slow fire. He looked down at Judith, who sat cross-legged on a carpet in front of him. He said ‘Just murmured —'

‘Yes.'

‘— Go away —'

‘Yes.'

Judith was taking puffs from a cigarette and was backing away as if the smoke were coming after her.

‘Then there was a shot —'

‘Yes.'

‘And then —'

‘It was terrifying.'

The man, who was called Jason, pushed himself up off the radiator and hung there as if on parallel bars.

He said ‘You don't seem terrified.'

Judith beat in the air at the smoke coming after her.

Jason thought — I am pretending that I am on fire from the heat of the radiator; as if I so much desired her?

He climbed off the radiator. He picked up a typescript from the floor. The room was furnished with just carpet, lamp-stand, curtains and cushions.

He said ‘Well, you've got to speak as if you know that you are acting.'

Judith stood. She took the typescript in one hand. She held out her other with the cigarette in it as if she were on a tightrope.

She said ‘Why can't I play the girl?'

‘Because I want you to be an older woman.'

‘Why.'

‘Because you're so powerful.'

She held the typescript out in front of her. After a while she seemed to read —

‘— Ariel, will you tell your father, I've done his socks and they're in the oven —'

She flicked the ash from her cigarette on to the carpet. She looked down at it.

She said ‘She's trying to get him —'

‘Who.'

‘Jason. Ariel.'

Putting a toe out to the ash on the carpet, she began to giggle.

He thought — This fire in my head, heart, balls. Then — Lilia, have I hurt you?

He came and took the typescript from Judith. He wrote with a pencil in the margin.

She said ‘Who plays the girl?'

He said ‘You want to?'

‘Not Lilia?'

‘I can't write about Lilia!'

He handed the typescript back to her. He had written in the margin — They know they are embarrassed.

Judith said ‘Why can't you write about Lilia?'

‘She's good. She's not trying to be powerful.'

Judith said So Lilia could play —' Then—‘And I'm not good?'

‘I don't know.'

She held the typescript. He stood watching her. He thought — Get it out, get it out: on the carpet —

He said ‘But you may make good things happen.'

‘How.'

He thought — Lilia, Lilia, it is myself I am hurting!

She said ‘And Lilia may make bad things happen?'

‘If one lets them be bad.'

She looked at the typescript. He stood watching her.

After a time she seemed to read ‘— And would he never, never, do this to anyone again —'

Then she said ‘Where is she?'

‘Who?'

‘Lilia.'

‘With her older lover.'

‘You had a quarrel.'

‘Yes.'

Judith lowered the typescript. She seemed to be blushing. He thought — With her mind running down into her jeans —

He said ‘And you had a quarrel with your boyfriend?'

She giggled.

He went to the window. There was a tree, a road, a red glow above the rooftops.

After a time he said ‘You go to and fro; between yourself, and what is going on elsewhere.'

She said ‘What is going on?'

He thought — A mountain, an airport, a cellar in a town; a tree —

He said ‘You find out —'

‘What?'

He thought — If I make things worse, will it be better? because I can then cry out —

He murmured, as if quoting ‘I love only you, you see —'

She seemed to shout ‘All right!'

He turned to her. She was in the middle of the carpet She seemed to be on the edge of tears.

He held out his hand. He said ‘I wanted to hurt myself. Not Lilia.'

She said ‘Do it then!'

She took his hand.

He said as if quoting'— I've loved other people in my life —'

She said ‘Dear God, you make it easy or difficult, don't you!'

The room in which they were standing was on the ground floor of the detached house on the corner of the avenue with cherry trees. Leading her by the hand, they went out of a door and up a staircase.

The stairs were in the half dark. There was a glow from the night sky outside.

He thought — I think you protect yourself from pain by inoculating yourself with pain?

Lilia had stood here at the top of the stairs. She had said — All you ever care about is your fucking work! It's pathetic, you think you are God! He had hit her.

He led Judith through into a bedroom. He took some nappies from the bed. He turned back the bedclothes.

Judith was standing by the door. She said ‘I'm sorry —'

He said ‘Never mind.'

She said ‘It's a sort of fog —' She put a hand to her head.

He sat on the edge of the bed. She came and sat beside him. He put an arm round her.

She said ‘These people in the plays, they all know each other so well!'

‘Yes.'

‘What else?'

‘They want to change: to be changed.'

There was a slight pressure, in and out, as if from a distant explosion.

She said ‘I don't want to act. I want you to help me.'

He stood up. He began to take off his clothes.

He thought — But if there's that crack in the rocks; the roof or the floor coming down —