believe in it any more - it hasn't meant anything for a long
time - is that what's troubling you?'
'No-o!' she cried, as though to say 'Please stop!'
Now I was beginning to feel distinctly worried. With one
arm about her waist, I gently turned her to front the water
once more and spoke with my face close beside hers.
'Darling, don't be afraid to tell me; please don't. Whatever
it is - anything at all -1 swear it won't make the slightest
difference to me. If you were in the biggest legal jam in
the world I'd get you out of it, come hell or high water. Tell
me, have you been married before? Are you legally - you
know, technically - married now, perhaps? Is it something
like that?'
Now she found her tongue, though plainly with an effort.
Turning her head, she looked me in the face.
'No, Alan, no! I'm not married and I never have been. That
you can believe absolutely. I just feel - well, I just feel I
can't be married to you in church, that's all. It will have to
be - you know - in an office or something.'
I was baffled. I believed everything she had told me. Kathe,
however, was obviously not at all the sort of girl to take a
stand on principle over something like atheism or agnosticism.
Yet what other explanation could there be?
'Kathe, dear, please don't think I'm making a silly fuss
about nothing. Honestly, I really hate to distress you like
this, but it is rather important, for one or two reasons. You
see, first of all I happen to feel that I ought to get married
in church. I do hope that doesn't sound priggish or selfish.
But on top of that my family - my mother, my sister, several
other people - they're all going to feel the same. And - and
- well, you know - the neighbourhood - all the people who
know me - they'd be bound to think it was rather odd 135
they'd wonder why, talk about it and all that. It can be as
quiet as you like - just the family, if you'd prefer - no fuss
at all - that'd be quite all right. But if there's no legal
reason - you said there wasn't, and so of course there isn't it
really would be best, believe me.'
Kathe stood back a little and paused. Although there were
tears in her eyes she now seemed to have recovered her selfpossession.
'Alan, dearest, are you saying that otherwise it can't happen?'
As I hesitated she went on, 'Please don't say that. I can't
- I can't explain: but please, please do this one thing for
me and don't ask why. I promise I'll be the best wife to you
that ever a man had. One day, perhaps, I'll be able to
explain.'
What could I say? My passionate adoration, my faith and
trust in her, my almost-continuous sense of the miraculous,
incredible generosity of her love for me - these had transformed
my life, my hopes, my plans, all that I was living for.
Hard as it was, and against my principles too, for her sake
I would have sacrificed more than this.
There could also be no doubt, however, that it was a
considerable blow and extremely awkward. But since I had
decided to put a good face on the business, I'd better start
thinking how best to handle it. I needed advice - I needed
to talk it over with someone.
'All right, darling,' I said. 'I will do as you ask, and I'll do
it with a good heart, too. It'll be a bit tricky, but we'll get by
all right, I'm sure. I tell you what, let's slip back to the hotel
and have a drink, shall we? And then perhaps I'll make a
'phone call and we'll decide how to fix it all up to suit you.
Let's leave the clothes until this afternoon - there'll be
plenty of time for them as well, so don't worry. And you'll
have carte blanche - got it? If you don't make the very most
of it, we shall be having our first quarrel. I want to see some
heavy spending.'
In the taxi she clung to me, kissing me again and again.
'Alan, I'll never forget how kind and understanding you've
been! Don't think I don't know how difficult it must be for
136
you. I really do. Thank you - thank you so much! I'll make
it up to you: I'll make you as happy as the day's long, believe
me!'
Looking at her, it wasn't hard to believe.
13
BACK at the hotel, Kathe was quiet - almost subdued - but
seemed also relieved, and restored to peace of mind. To see
her seriously upset, and robbed of so much that went to
make up her style and charm; her self-possession, wit, and
her miraculous ballon - that vernal, floating quality, peculiarly
hers, like a Brimstone butterfly on an April morning had
not only distressed me but also made me feel a kind
of guilt for having, however unintentionally, brought such a
blemish about. The effect of her beauty and joyous, natural
dignity being impaired in this way had been to make me,
might feel at coming upon, say, a Persian cat running hither
and thither in traffic, scared out of its wits, or a tern lying
on a beach, fouled by oil. True, Kathe was not of another
species; but she was singular, not like ordinary people. It
was entirely wrong that she should be exposed even to the
risk of uglification, and it was up to me to make sure that
it didn't happen again. For mine and everyone's sake, her
beauty and unique charm must henceforth be guarded and
protected, so that they could go on blessing the world; so
that the rest of us could go on delighting in them. This had
now become my responsibility.
After we had relaxed and talked for twenty minutes over
our drinks, I left her reading Vogue in a corner of the residents'
lounge and went to telephone Tony Redwood.
I was lucky enough to find him in and free to talk. As
usual he was unexpected, reassuring, and as liberal in help
as the good Samaritan.
'Well, to start with, Alan, it doesn't matter two hoots
whether you're married in a church or a registry office. Shall
137
I tell you how many regular communicants I've known who
for one reason or another have been married in registry
offices? A hell of a lot, anyway. If anyone happens to mention
it to me, I shall simply tell them that as far as I know
you're getting married in a registry office for reasons of
mutual convenience connected with the fact that Kathe's
from abroad and hasn't any relatives or family friends here.
That's not in the least unusual. As for your own personal
feelings, just forget them - put them entirely on one side
until further notice. You both want to get married- that's the
point. Later on, if Kathe's up for it and only if, I can conduct
a service for you privately. But that'll be a concession on
her part to your susceptibilities and mine - seeing that your
personal beliefs are almost as extraordinary as my own. And
for Pete's sake don't try to hurry it. What is it? - "The kingdom
of God cometh not with observation." It's within you bot
h
of you. If I can put my hat on and presume to advise,
you mustn't forget that. What did you say, Alan? People
talking? Well, all I can say is, I shall be one of them, loud
and clear. You simply mustn't let it affect you. This is your
wife and your marriage and nobody else's, and she comes
first. You're worried about telling your mother? Well, if I'm
sticking my nose in, punch it; but if it'll help at all, I'll drop
round myself this evening and have a word with her and
tell her you asked me to. It'll probably cost you about half
a bottle of that manzanilla of yours next time we meet. You
know I can't resist it.'
About two minutes later he said, 'Well, look here, Alan,
I'm in this with you up to the neck, so I'll tell you what. You
say Kathe seems a bit upset about it and you obviously are,
so if you like I'll pop up to London tomorrow and meet you
both for tea. I can easily get an afternoon train from Reading.
No - no trouble at all: the fox enjoys the run. But if you
think I'm going to try to change her mind, forget it. I shall
wear a collar and tie and talk about Mozart-didn't you say she
likes music? Your friendly local eccentric.'
'That's damned good of you, Tony,' I said. 'I really appreciate
it. We'll meet your train.'
'No, don't -'
138
'Yes, we will. You can't stop us. Come on, what time does
it get in?'
'Well, British Rail say it gets in at - let's have a look four
thirty-five. I'm sorry I can't make it any earlier, but
I've got a committee meeting. Now you go back and give her
another drink; and have a nice day, as the Americans say.
Mind you do, too, or I'll conduct a commination.'
I returned to the residents' lounge greatly encouraged.
That afternoon we bought an antique pearl cluster ring
at Harvey & Gore for more than I had any business to be
spending. Then we sauntered from one boutique to another,
gazing in windows, strolling in and out of doorways and
among displays of every kind of feminine luxury from novelty
jewellery to evening dresses. At Janet Reger we bought two
complete sets of satin underclothes - one apricot, the other
ivory - frothy with lace, cool and smooth to the touch as a
basket of greengages. At Brown's Kathe became mysterious,
making me turn my back as she plunged here and there
among the racks before disappearing into a changing cubicle,
followed by a heavily-laden shop-assistant. Yes later, elsewhere
- how can I remember where? - she called me in to
pass judgement, turning this way and that between the enclosing
looking-glasses, among a medley of discarded garments
flower-sprigged, apricot organdie and the white linen suit,
while she countered with a silk sweater in thin rainbow
stripes. A certain amount, however, had evidently been
settled before I was summoned, for I caught glimpses,
among folded tissue-paper, of a vivid pink cotton jersey and
of something else in cream-coloured silk. Fortunately, I had
my business as well as my personal-account cheque-book
with me. (I have never been able to feel easy about being
overdrawn, even temporarily.)
Clambering out of the taxi that took us to Harrod's, I
could not hold the heavy glass door open for her, being
loaded like a camel with all manner of striped and sepia
carrier-bags: and she, taking pity and my ready cash, left me
to browse in the book department, returning half an hour
later with two soft, lace-trimmed cotton sweaters which to
139
me looked exactly like vests; a green linen skirt and a white
bikini.
Then - for she seemed tireless - after a quick cup of tea
and a bath at the hotel we had an early dinner at Bertorelli's
and went, by her choice, to a production of Uncle Vanya. I
remember it well, particularly the Sonya, who was totally
convincing - plain, clumsy and very moving in the final
scene.
I accompanied Kathe up to her room. Having taken off her
coat, she sat down at the dressing-table, slipped out her earrings
and began brushing her hair; then, suddenly putting
down the brush, she turned and kissed me 'by the pot', as
they say, drawing my lips down to her own with hands
pressed flat on either side of my face.
'Would you like me to - m'm, m'm, let me go, I can't
breathe! - stay until you're asleep tonight?'
'No, because if you did tonight I shouldn't be able to go
to sleep.' She paused and then, in the same matter-of-fact
tone, added, 'But I'd like you to undress me, Alan, please.'
I gave a little start. 'Sorry - did you say undress you?'
'Yes, please.'
It seemed to me that if we weren't going to be married
in church it no longer made much difference. I was ready
enough, if this was what she wanted. Indeed, I was beside
myself with desire, my pulse beating so that I could feel it
throbbing in chest and wrists, my lips dry for all her kissing.
My voice came in a silly little, high-pitched gasp, and I
hurriedly got it into register.
'You mean - you'd like me to make love to you now,
darling?'
Kathe, who was hanging up her coat in the wardrobe,
turned and stared at me in open-mouthed astonishment.
'Good heavens, Alan! Do you realize how much you've exhausted
me today already? I'm dropping!' She brushed the
beautiful ring, with its five pearls, lightly down my cheek;
then held it up, fingers outspread before my eyes. 'I'm tired
out with all your generosity and kindness! Make love? You
must be out of your mind! Who said a word about making
140
love? I said I wanted you to undress me.' And, as I stood
staring and bewildered, she added, with a touch of pathos,
'Well, don't you sometimes like to be made a fuss of?'
So I undressed her, garment by garment. She was even
more beautiful than I could possibly have imagined. I put
on her slippers, wound up her watch and finished brushing
her hair. It clearly gave her pleasure, but she was no more
teasing me than Flick's Angela in the bath.
'Put my dress on a hanger.'
As I did so she strolled across to the open window, leant
out and for a few moments remained looking down into the
street before unhurriedly drawing the curtains. Then, still
naked, she washed, bathed her eyes and cleaned her teeth.
'Oh, how lovely to be tired!' Walking towards the bed,
she stopped in front of the long glass on the wardrobe door,
clasping her hands behind her head, turning this way and
that and looking her reflection up and down.
'M'm - 'think I'm nice?' she asked, as though in some
slight doubt about it; and then, since I could find no reply,
'Well, do you?' in a tone somewhere between anxiety and
impatience.
'Yes; very.'
She turned round and looked at me, smiling. 'You've seen
not
hing yet.'
'Oh, no?'
'No. You wait.'
I swallowed. 'Right, I'll - er - do that.'
She sat down in the dressing-table chair. 'Rub my
go to sleep in my dressing-gown. Look, it's over there. Put it
on for me, Alan, please.'
When I had done as she asked she said, 'I'm sorry I was
so silly last night, darling - about the dark. I really was
awfully tired.'
'You weren't silly, and you don't have to say you're sorry.'
'Tell me that bit of Goethe again. You know, the bit you
told me in the restaurant the evening when we almost said
good-bye and didn't.'
141
With something of an effort I collected myself and began.
'Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen bluhn?
Im dunkeln Laub die Gold-Orangen gliihn,
Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel weht.
Die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer steht Kennst
du es wohl?'
She broke in,
'Dahin! Dahin!
Mocht ich mit dir, o mein Geliebter, ziehn!
'And I will! Do put the bathroom light on, mein Geliebter,
and a cushion in the door, like last night. It was so nice to
see it still on when I woke this morning; just as if you'd
been there all night, looking after me.'
Most men, I thought, as I walked down the corridor to my
room, would say I must be clean out of my mind. However,
they were not acquainted with Kathe, or her ability to
bend the dawn to touch the sunset. I had no idea where I
was, except that I was going to make darned sure I wasn't
anywhere else, ever again.
By lunch-time the following morning I was in a fair way to be
even further out of my mind. I had vaguely supposed that
marriage in a registry office, while lacking both sanctity and
style, was at least a swift, straightforward business. If not,
then v.hat was the use of it, even to the heathen? A few
inquiries, however, showed it to be no such thing. Not really
wanting to ask advice on the telephone from my solicitor in
Newbury (I liked Brian, but we had never been close friends),
I called at a London registry office.
The official who saw me, a Mr Dance, was at any rate a
likeable fellow and obviously one who made a point of being
helpful and courteous to everybody. He was also depressingly
clear about the alternatives available.
'In the first place, sir, there is the normal procedure, which
is termed "certificate without licence"; and secondly, there's
142
procedure by what is called registrar's licence and certificate.
The first is appropriate in the majority of cases; that is, when
the parties wish to be married at an office serving an area
in which one or both are resident. In this case one or both
parties require a minimum of seven days' residence in the
area before making application. Upon application being
made, the registrar enters in his records what is termed
"notice of intention" and the marriage may take place within
a minimum of twenty-one days from the date of entry. That
involves, therefore, a minimum of twenty-eight days' residence
in the area by at least one of the parties.'
'I see. And the other you mentioned?'
'I should perhaps emphasize, sir, that the alternative, by
registrar's licence, costs an additional twenty pounds.'
'All right, carry on.'
'In this case,' continued Mr Dance, 'one or other party requires
a minimum of fifteen days' residence in the area before
making application. He - or she - then applies for a
registrar's licence and the parties may marry within a minimum
of three days after that licence has been granted.'
'Would it be granted to a foreign national?'
'Oh, certainly, sir. That would raise no problems, provided
the party's passport was in order.'
'I see. Well, thank you very much.'
'Do you wish to make either kind of application at the
present time, sir?'
'Well, I think perhaps I'd better put the lady in the picture
first, and talk it over with her.'
'Of course, sir. Well, please don't hesitate to call or telephone
if you feel that I can be of any further assistance to
you. It's what we're here for, you know.'
Now however much moral support Tony was prepared to
give, one thing I emphatically had no wish to do was to
get married in the registry office 'serving the area in which I
was normally resident'. Certainly, I had not supposed that
Kathe and I could just walk straight into any old registry