Falling (37 page)

There was a pause during which he took one of her hands and gently chafed it.

‘One of the worst things about that time was the desperate divorcees – sometimes widows – who had expected a cruise would open up a whole new romantic life. When they
couldn’t find it among the passengers, they turned on the crew. There they were, with their newly dyed hair, and their tight bright clothes and their banked-up anger – like the pancake
makeup over their scalding sunburn, and their charm bracelets and nothing to do. They would hang about the bars for hours at a time – everyone drank too much anyway – and ten to one
they would lie in wait for you when you came off duty. Fortunately most of the cabins were twin-bedded, but the ones who’d taken a cabin to themselves were a real menace.’

‘When did you do this trip?’

‘Oh! After Charley died.’ He looked at her and she noticed again how his eyes became opaque when he mentioned Charley. ‘I had to get away, you see.’

‘Yes.’

Soon after that they went to bed. ‘You’re worn out,’ he said. ‘I’m going to sleep in the other room tonight, and let you have a proper night’s
rest.’

Nothing was said about Anna.

Of course I had always known that the isolated idyll was finite. Sooner or later, her friends would have impinged, but the sudden toothache was a stroke of bad luck. Going to
London meant staying the night with Anna, and that in turn meant confidences about me – indeed, if she had withheld them, I might have had even more cause for anxiety. It would mean that she
was afraid that Anna (and presumably others) would not accept me. It didn’t seem to be quite like that, but clearly Anna wished to come down to inspect me, and somehow or other I had to pass
that test.

As soon as I had seen Daisy on to her train, I drove back and stopped at a boatyard that lay about seven miles up the canal from my mooring. I had not visited it before. I explained that I had
been looking after a boat for friends, but was now leaving the vicinity and would pay to have her towed to the yard. I wrote down the owners’ name and address in London, and gave my name as
Kenyon – not, I said, that it would be much use to them as I was going abroad. They asked for a month’s rent for the mooring in advance, plus the cost of the tow: the whole business
cost me the best part of fifty pounds, but I reckoned that to be shot of the boat it was worth it, having made sure that I had left nothing personal in it. Then I drove back and returned the canoe
to its owners who were still fortunately absent. My papers and other bags of stuff were already stowed unobtrusively in the hut adjoining the garage.

It was a relief to have disposed of the boat: to have burned it, so to speak, as a refuge. It was after seven by the time I got back to the cottage and I did not feel like warming the
shepherd’s pie and eating it with the half-bottle of wine from the night before, so I went to the pub with
The Times
crossword and drank vodka in quantities that would have made it
cheaper to buy a bottle and drink it at home. I’d had the sense not to take her car, and trudging back, I passed out in the ditch Daisy didn’t drive into when she ran over the cat. I
woke early with the sun glaring at my hangover. It was far too early for her to ring me, but I hurried back to take a long hot and cold shower followed by a large breakfast of eggs and bread. This
vanquished the hangover, and by the time Daisy rang me to tell me what train she was coming down on, I felt ready for anything.

I knew at once that she had been confiding in Anna, but I waited until I’d got us to the pub and a drink in our hands. It was clear at once that Anna had not given her unqualified
approval, and that Daisy was nervous about telling me, but then when she blushed and said something about loving me, I knew what to do. We were not going to talk about it until after a long, and to
date the most exacting, session in bed. The odd thing was that in the process of manipulating and overwhelming her I got carried away – she really turned me on, as the vulgar saying goes,
although I managed to wait for my own final gratification until after I knew she could entertain no more. By the time I finally took her she was long past wanting me but far too exhausted to resist
– a combination that I found peculiarly exciting.

I left her sleeping and went down to get a drink, which I took out into the garden with a smoke to keep the midges away. It was dusk, and the white rose round the door of the cottage was
luminous. The sun had disappeared behind the wood, but the moon – the colour of worn silver gilt – was rising in the opposite sky. The stocks I had planted were reeking sweetly for the
moths, and two or three bats were feasting on the midges in a hectic silent frenzy.

I sat for a while in this scented silence.

This was a good place to be – better still when the cottage was enlarged. I did not want much, I reflected: the company and body of an attractive woman, and Daisy was becoming more
attractive to me by the day; enough money not to have to work (which she undoubtedly had), a few treats, perhaps some travelling. Somehow or other I had to get shot of my wife, because it was
necessary to get Daisy to marry me, as then I would not have to worry about anything at all. I knew for certain now that sexually she was completely in my power – could enjoy, endure, be made
abject as I pleased. But I still had a few cards that could turn out to be jokers if I wasn’t careful enough. Anna
had
to approve of me; this might also apply to the daughter, but
somehow I felt that if Anna’s trust could be gained, the daughter’s would follow. I went back into the cottage, started heating the pie and gave myself another drink. The vodka level
had sunk in the bottle. I decided to make a vodka drink for both of us to account for it.

She came down earlier than I thought she would, dishevelled, glowing, and every bit as shy as I had known she would be. This made everything easy. I knew just how to reassure her, to make her
feel that the violent lovemaking came out of the deepest affection and love, and I had no intention of broaching the Anna business that evening, which turned out also to be easy. She asked me how I
made such good drinks, so I told her something about the cruise ship. Not by any means all: the main reason that I had signed on for
that
was the well-known, well-supported rumour that
cruise ships were full of women longing to get laid. This turned out to be true. I never had so much sex in my life, and at first the only problem had been keeping Doreen from knowing anything
about Edna. That problem was temporary, as the passengers were only on board for a fortnight, and after that, I took care to stick to one woman at a time.

Anyway, by the time we had eaten it was late enough to warrant going to bed. I was tired enough after my short, uncomfortable night in the ditch, and she made no demur about sleeping alone
– took it as further evidence of my thoughtfulness (a very useful reputation to cultivate, since you can, once it is established, do pretty much as you please).

We had several conversations about Anna, the first of which occurred on the evening of the following day. I carefully did not broach the subject, and in the morning Daisy was intent upon her
work. The first builder arrived after lunch to have a look at the job and she was keen that I should discuss with him the drawings I had made. He left promising an estimate as soon as possible.

At lunch-time I told her that the owners of the boat had taken her away.

‘How could they, if the engine doesn’t work?’

‘Oh, they got her towed. It was all quite amiable. They apologized for giving me no notice, and I apologized for the state of the cabin roof, so we ended quits as it were.’

She said nothing more, but I saw her look thoughtful, and I guessed that my possibly sleeping in the boat when Anna came had occurred to her as an option.

When we did talk about it, it was very clear that she was anxious. I decided to go for being anxious as well, taking the line that obviously Anna would object to my working-class origins:
somehow I knew that that was the area where Daisy would most strenuously defend me, and also, that if I could implant that particular objection to me strongly enough, any other could be put down to
it. It certainly seemed to work. She began by saying that Anna was not at all like that, would take me strictly on my own merits, but I could see that she had her doubts about whether this was
really so.

‘Well, my darling,
I
know I love you, and
you
know I love you, so perhaps when she sees that, she will forget about my being a prole.’

She laughed and defended Anna, but she did not say anything about
her
love for
me:
that came later and when I least expected it. It was about a week after she had been to London.
She had been much more determined about her morning work, saying that Anna had asked her about it and she had been ashamed at how little she had done. The second builder had been and gone away
promising an estimate. She had made several efforts to get in touch with Katya, to be told in the end by the husband that Katya had decided to stay away for an extra week. This disturbed her.
‘Something is the matter,’ she said. ‘I do wish I knew where Katya
is.’

Then, on the Monday morning, she got a letter from her. She took it into the garden to read, and from the house I watched her reading it – twice. I didn’t, of course, know then who
the letter was from, but I could see that whoever it was, it had upset her.

She did not stay in the garden, she came in to tell me. Another sign of trust, I thought.

‘It’s Katya,’ she said. ‘She wants to leave Edwin. In fact, she
has
left him for the last three weeks.’

‘Where is she now?’

‘London, I think. She hasn’t put an address. And Edwin said she was in France. Well, she may have been. She’s coming to see me.’

‘When?’

‘She doesn’t say.’

Bad news. Who knew what the wretched girl might do when she did appear here (with no warning)? She might want to stay here. Worse, she might import her children and Daisy would become immersed
in being a mother and grandmother with no time for me.

I suppose some of these gloomy apprehensions must have been apparent from my face, for she suddenly came to me, and put her thin white arms round my neck.

‘You mustn’t worry so much about other people not liking you. Of course when they know you they will, but even if they didn’t it would make no difference – to us. It
wouldn’t change how I feel. At all.’

‘Oh, darling.’

‘Apart from anything else, it isn’t their
business.
It’s our life – yours and mine.’ She kissed me. She had become far more open and easy about gestures of
that nature.

So then it was in order for me to commiserate with her, to have those speculative conversations about where Katya could possibly be (‘I don’t know of any of her friends who are still
in London’), when she might turn up (‘She always does things on the spur of the moment’), and, above all,
why
she had left Edwin – as I now called him. I suggested
very carefully that perhaps she might have found someone else, but Daisy seemed shocked by the idea (‘The two children. She’s devoted to them. She’d never go off and leave
them’).

Katya rang that evening. Earlier, Daisy had rung Anna to tell her, and to say that if Katya rang
her,
please find out where she was. Anna knew nothing, but I suspect that Katya
did
get in touch with her later in the day and was told to bloody well get in touch with her mother.

‘She’s coming down tomorrow morning. That’s something.’

‘Is she driving?’

‘No. Coming by train. She wouldn’t say what was the matter. I think I’d better meet her on my own.’

‘Look,’ I said, ‘how about I go out for the day? If you dropped me in the town, I can get a bus back to the village about five. Would that give you a decent amount of time
alone?’

‘Yes, it would.’ She was grateful.

‘What will you do all day?’ she said. We were in bed and I had made the lengthy, teasing, gentle love to her that I knew she enjoyed more than anything else.

‘Don’t worry about that. I’ll go to the second-hand book shop: you know I can spend hours there. And I’ll have a pub lunch. Might go to the cinema. I shall think of you.
I’m never bored.’

She went to sleep in my arms and I waited until she was really gone before I disengaged myself.

‘Are you going to tell her about us?’

We were on our way to the town next day, and I felt I needed to know what she intended before I met Katya again. ‘I think she quite liked me when we met before,’ I added.

‘Yes, I shall – if possible. I mean, if she’s not so distressed that it wouldn’t be the right time.’

‘Well, make it clear to me when I come back. I don’t want to put my great foot in it.’

‘I can’t imagine you ever doing that – with anyone.’

She dropped me outside the book shop.

‘Hope all goes well, darling. Hope it’s nothing serious.’

I spent a pleasant day. It was a change to be alone in a town where I could look at other women with carefree interest about their possible attractions. I shopped, bought myself a second-hand
copy of a novel by Benjamin Disraeli, a couple of shirts, and a bottle of vodka. I spent a happy half-hour in the back of a newsagent’s shop where he kept what soft pornography there was to
be had for the casual client, and selected one that specialized in breasts – from boyish to grotesque. This I was able to slip into the carrier-bag that I got with the shirts. It occurred to
me – after a preliminary flip through it – that I might possibly get Daisy interested: I had by then considerably changed the appearance of her own. On second thoughts, I went back to
the shop and bought a second magazine, a woman’s glossy, full of daring hints about getting the man you wanted, or getting rid of the man you wished to finish with and leading a full life as
a single woman – that kind of thing. I wrapped this round the soft-porn job, in case by any chance someone looked in the carrier-bag before I could stash it safely away in the garage. I
bought myself some sandwiches and a can of beer in the supermarket and ate them in the small park with my back to a large ash tree where I could peruse my magazines at leisure.