'No swimming at Cedar Key,' said he, never taking his
eyes off Kathe as she talked to him about the Itchetucknee.
'Too many sharks. Wicked bastards. Don'tch' ever feel nervous
about unexpected things in the water? I do. I prefer
things I can see - like you, ma'am.'
For supper we ate hamburgers in a shack restaurant,
served by a Mongol girl who smiled without speaking and
shyly laid her hand on Kathe's wrist as she poured the
coffee; and then found a small motel just across the road
from the seashore. They gave us a room on the ground floor,
with a window almost filling the seaward wall; and here,
seized suddenly by a kind of plunging, devouring appetite, I
pushed Kathe, clothed as she was, across the big double-bed
and satisfied myself in half a minute, without a thought for
her or anything else.
'That was the most selfish thing I've done,' I said, yawning
and noticing for the first time, as I lay beside her on the
bedspread, that we were in more-or-less full view from the
empty road outside. 'I feel ashamed.'
'Oh, but you needed it, my darling!'
'Needed it?'
'I could tell you did. That was why I made you do it.'
'You made me? How?'
'Oh, f'ff!'
'You never refuse me, do you?'
'Whatever would be the point of that?"
Next morning, as we were standing together looking out
177
of the window, we both saw at the same moment some big,
dark object moving in the water, very close in. Next instant
the surface whelmed, running either way, and up came the
black, triangular fin and the great, smooth mass of the back.
For a few seconds they remained in full view, plain and
grim: then they vanished again. We both cried out spontaneously,
but said no more, waiting to see whether the
shark would reappear. It did not, and Kathe turned aside and
fell to brushing her hair before the glass.
After a little she asked, 'Alan, how many days have we
known each other?'
'Twenty-nine counting today.'
'And how long have we been married?'
'A week and five days, darling.'
She went to the wardrobe, chose a pair of shoes, put them
on and leaned back in the chair, stretching out her legs and
tapping first one heel and then the other against the floor.
At length she said,
'So. We'll go home now.'
'Had enough?'
'If you like.' Suddenly she jumped up, clapping her hands.
'No, no! I'll never have had enough! More! I want to start
my life - the one I was born for! I'm your wife, Alan! Think
about that, as Mr Steinberg would say. I want to go home
and start, don't you? Come on - I'll refuse you, since you
seem to like the idea so much, and then you can go home
really happy.' She paused. Then, 'Alan, how far is Newbury
from the sea?'
'About - oh - I suppose about fifty or sixty miles in a
straight line. Why?'
'Oh - nothing. Peace and quiet. Destroy the past!' She
kissed me. 'Ach, du bist ein edler Knabe!'
178
15
IF it had been possible for me to feel anxiety about anything
I might, by the time we reached London, have been worrying
first about my mother, and secondly about money and the
business. When, on the day we left for Florida, I had telephoned
my mother to tell her of Mr Steinberg's generosity
and my decision to fly with Kathe to Miami that night, she
had responded with the distant politeness often used by
women who feel desperately mortified but are determined
not to show it, knowing that nothing they can say is going
to make any difference. She hoped we would have a good
journey: of course it was entirely for me to make up my own
mind; it was nothing to do with her; and a few more replies
of that nature. She was acting the part of an employee, and
meant me to feel it; but I had been left with the impression
that this was something she felt she could not take lying
down. She had neither asked when we expected to be back
nor said anything about the shop. I, for my part, had not
had the face to ask her to carry on until our return or indeed
to discuss business at all. If you are spitting in someone's
eye you cannot at the same time ask them to oblige
you. I knew very well that I had affronted and upset her. In
a way, I had meant to. Kathe's susceptibilities were as valid
as her own, and that she might as well learn now, at the outset.
Nevertheless I was sure - Tony was sure - that she
would come round, and to that matter, I had resolved, I
would apply myself when we got back. Well, here we were
back. Yes, indeed.
I might have worried about money also. This past month
I had spent more than I could afford; in fact, I had no very
have been happening, during the last fortnight, at the shop,
except that I had missed at least one important sale. It was
certain that I was in low water; and I had no real plan for
getting out of it, except to resume work as soon as possible.
Yet in the hotel bedroom, watching Kathe, her deep-gold
179
tan half-covered in a towel as she sat at the dressing-table,
taking a needle and thread to the lining of her jacket, I could
feel no least touch of anxiety. It was not a question of 'It
was worth it*. I was above it. I was no longer the man who
had flown to Copenhagen to buy from Bing & Gr0ndahl. I
had come at last to the great sea - that ocean she had
spoken of, unfathomable and boundless. And it was mine - it
was ours.
In the light of Kathe, problems assumed their true proportions.
Not, I reflected, that she would solve them for me
(how little I knew!), but with her beside me I myself was
equal to anything. The world was not as I had formerly perceived
it. First and foremost it existed so that we could make
love in it and release our love into it as a renewing flux and
solvent. From this all else followed.
I telephoned Bull Banks, but could get no reply. However,
there was no particular reason why I should. It was
only seven o'clock. I had sent no telegram about our return.
My mother might very well be out for a drink - or for that
matter to dinner - with friends. Come to think of it, she was
more likely to be in a good mood after dinner, and I certainly
would be, for I was always in a good mood - had been
any moment this life-time back.
'Kathe?'
'Ja?'
'What would you like for dinner?'
'Lots.'
'Well, they've got that. I'll 'phone down to the restaurant
and arrange it now. What would you like to do after dinner?'
'Lots.'
'I can arrange that too. You know, the trouble with you is
that all roads lead to Ro-middley.'
'Oh, darling Ro-middley! He's-'
'An expanding city?'
'A civilizing influence.'
'A pen
etrating force -'
'- Thrusting northwards into Europe.'
'Sowing the seeds of futurity. Let Ro-middley in Tiber
melt, and the wide arch of the ranged empire fall -'
180
'Oh, come on, darling,' said Kathe, pulling my hands away
and kissing them, 'he can't melt in Tiber now. I really will
refuse you. I want my dinner! D'you think this dress will be
all right?'
'I wonder you ask. Of course it will. Does it expand?'
'It'll jolly well have to. I'm going to eat till I bust.'
'Much the best cure for jet-lag.'
'I know a better.'
There was no reply at nine o'clock either. At five past ten,
as we were lying smooth and easy, I telephoned Tony.
'Alan! Splendid to hear you! Are you back in London?'
'Got in this evening.'
'Had a marvellous time, I hope?'
'The answer's Yes. 'Tell you all about it when I see you.
Tony, I'm ringing up because I don't seem to be able to get
my mother on the phone. D'you happen to know the score?
Is she all right?'
'Yes, I'll tell you. Let's see, how long have you been away?'
'Just a fortnight.'
'Well, I think it was the Wednesday evening after you
left - yes, it was, because I remember I'd come back from
a diocesan meeting at Oxford - she dropped in and said she
couldn't help feeling rather lonely and a bit upset about the
way things had turned out - she hadn't been given a chance
to meet Kathe and so on. I just said again what I've always
said - that from what I'd seen I was sure she was going to
like Kathe very much, and that from an ecclesiastical point of
view - in my prophetic role, so to speak - I could see no
objection whatever to the way things had been done and I
was sure everything would settle down splendidly. I did my
best to explain how you'd felt about the importance of sticking
close to Kathe when she was alone in a strange country,
and said I entirely agreed with you that this was a time
when you naturally had to put her feelings first. I hope you
don't mind, but I did sort of lightly hint that I thought your
mother'd be making a mistake if she didn't just accept
Kathe's difficulty - whatever it is - and meet her half-way.
Losing wicket and so on.'
'Losing wicket?'
181
'Well, you know, I've seen a lot of this sort of thing in
various strengths and sizes, and the plain truth is that parents
only make things difficult for themselves and no one else
and they'll only be sorry when the grandchildren start
coming along. The couple are married and that's that. The
future's theirs. There's no point in hiding in the cupboard
and saying you won't come out. The only possible answer is
"All right, don't come out." The sabbath was made for man
and not man for the sabbath, and all that. But, of course, I
wasn't anything like so explicit. Freda and I just dispensed
tea and sympathy, really.'
'Thanks a lot, Tony. I'm terribly grateful.'
'All part of the service. We're very fond of your mother, as
you know - I'm sure she'll get the message. She still misses
your father, of course: she can't help feeling isolated. Anyway,
she said it was lonely in the house and she'd decided
to go down to Bristol and stay with Florence and Bill for a
bit until whenever you got back. So that's where she is. Mrs
Thing - you know, that nice daily help of yours - what's her
name? - Spencer - she's looking in and seeing to the house.
When are you coming back, by the way? To-morrow?'
'Yes, indeed; no later than. Tony, did Mother say what, if
anything, she was doing about the shop?'
'No, that didn't come up. But it hasn't fallen down, as far
as I know.'
('There speaks the salaried man,' I thought.)
'Could you possibly find a moment to tell them that I'll be
in on Saturday morning? 'Save me another call if you could.'
'Sure. And do bring Kathe round for a drink that evening,
if you've nothing better to do. Early-ish - say six o'clock. I've
got the Boys' Club later.'
So, exactly one month after the day on which I had first
visited Mr Hansen's office in K0benhavn, Kathe and I came
home to Bull Banks. As I carried her over the threshold the
grandfather clock in the hall struck four, and an imprisoned
tortoiseshell butterfly blundered past us and out into the
182
brilliance of the garden. A great, shallow bowl of Russell
lupins was standing on the hall table, and I guessed that Tony
had also taken the trouble to let Mrs Spencer know we were
returning. The hall lay cool and quiet in the summer afternoon,
with dappled leafy sunlight and a blackbird's song
coming in through the far window for assurance that everything
aestive was going on outside, among the tall grass. The
insect world, amid the suns and dew.
When I came back in with the suitcases Kathe had already
found her way to the drawing-room and was standing
in the doorway with clasped hands, looking from the
French windows to the china cabinets and back.
'Oh, Alan, a piano! A grand, too!'
'Well, not a very big one, I'm afraid.'
'You never told me!'
'You don't mean to say you play the piano as well?'
'Can I? Now?' And without waiting for an answer she
crossed the room, lifted the cover of the keyboard (it flashed
a moment in my eyes) and, without music, began to play
Schumann's 'Aufschwung'. After about a dozen bars she
broke off, wagging her fingers up and down.
'Ach, ich hab' alles vergessen! It's a tiny bit out of tune,
but it's a lovely piano. Who plays it, you?'
'No, I only listen. My mother plays a bit, sometimes. Darling,
you never told me you played the piano.'
'Well, you never asked me."
For a while she sat playing fragments, a few bars of one
thing and another, continuing with each until she forgot a
Chopin etude, Mozart's Turkish March, Debussy's 'Little
Shepherd'. Then, looking over the music lying beside the
piano, she opened a book of Bach preludes and played one
through, stumbling once or twice but keeping a nice balance
between the two hands. Finishing, she jumped up, closed the
lid of the keyboard a shade hard, said, 'Ach ungeschickt,
Verzeihung!', ran across the room and flung her arms round
me.
'Oh, Alan, I'm so happy - it's all going to be wonderful!
Thank you, thank you!'
'What would you like now? Cup of tea?'
183
'No.'
'See over the house?'
'No.'
'Unpack?'
'Oh, no, stupid!' And she stamped her foot.
I shook my head, and she put her lips to my ear.
'Ro-middley.'
'Now?'
'Oh, silly Alan, what else! I love you, Alan, I love you!'
Thus it was that when Mrs Spencer, sailing by the star
of natural village curiosity, lo
oked in about an hour later
'just to see if everything was all right' (I had thought she
might), I met her in my dressing-gown, explaining that my
wife was a little tired from the journey and was resting. So,
after half an hour's tea, chat and frequently-expressed gratitude
away, Mrs Spencer had to leave in politely-concealed dissatisfaction.
In that respect, however, she was in a minority
of one.
'Flick? How are you? How's Bill and Angela?'
'Oh, Alan! What a surprise to hear you! Where are you?'
'I'm at Bull Banks, with Kathe. We arrived about three
hours ago.'
'Everything all right? Food in the 'fridge? Mrs S. doing
her stuff?'
'Yes, fine, thanks. Flick, are you free to speak, as they
say?'
'Yes, perfectly. Pour out your tiny heart. Was it a shock?'
'Well, slightly, I suppose.'
In point of fact I felt as though I were looking down, with
smiling magnanimity, from the walls of a castle no less
splendid than Kronborg, at an embassage standing beyond the
moat below.
'Well, you did rather ask for it, Alan, didn't you? People
who cosh people must expect to be coshed in turn. You
coshed me too, really.'
184
'All right, Flick, I'm coshed. What's the score? How's
Mother? Is she there?'
'No, she's gone out to play bridge this evening at Colonel
Kingsford's. And that's an improvement, I might add. She
hasn't been at all well, Alan, you know. She was most upset
when she got here. I've had quite a time with her. Who the
hell do you think you are?'
'Albert Herring.'
'Well, bounce you to bloody arithmetic, then, you squirt!
I must say I do think it was a bit much, Alan, honestly. You
might at least have brought Kathe down to see Mum before
you buggered off. She felt it very much. But I confess I don't
entirely understand. I mean, why wouldn't Kathe get married
in church, or come down here, or anything? Is she a
pagan, or what? Is it going to be like this all the time?
Naturally, Mum's wondering what sort of a girl she can be
and frankly, so are Bill and I, a bit.'
'Well, let her come and see for herself, then. It wasn't
Kathe's fault she didn't come down; it was mine. Anyway,
who buggered off? We've all got to eat, and God knows what
the business will be like after ten days of Deirdre and Mrs
Taswell toutes seules.'
'You dirty little So-and-so! D'you remember when I
pushed you out of the swing and you fell on your head and
screamed the place down? I wish I'd pushed harder, I really
do. All got to eat, indeed! Why, I could hardly get her to
eat anything -'
'Oh, Flick - dear Flick - I didn't mean it, honestly! Don't
let's have a row, please. I can explain this, as the man said.
I'm relying on you to pull it all together. There's no one to
do it if you don't. Do let's start getting it on an even keel
if we can. It'll be to everyone's advantage, you know.'
'Well -' (Remaining silent as a swan, I felt Kathe's hand
in mine and took a sip from the glass of sherry she held to
my lips.) 'Well - seeing it's you - I tell you what, Alan.
What's to-day? Friday. M'mm, it's half-term next week. I
had meant-' (More silence.) 'Well, I'll come up myself on
Monday and stay the night. Bill won't be able to make it,
185
but I'll bring Angela, if that's all right. We'll come round to
the shop and join you for lunch. Play it from there, O.K.?'
Good old feminine curiosity! Ringing off, I looked up to
see Kathe in an apron, breaking eggs into a bowl.
'Food, darling, lovely food! Scrambled eggs and bacon
tonight, but don't think that's my limit. Ich kann noch viel
mehr.'
'Weiss ich schon! Will you play the piano again afterwards?'
'Vielleicht.'
'I wonder, is there anything nicer than sitting in a summer
drawing-room while a very beautiful girl plays the piano to
you ?'
'Not for the next hour or two there isn't, anyway. Alan,
you look worried. Is it your mother?'
'No, not really.'
'Then what?'
'Well, the business, I suppose. It's been coasting for ten
days with no one at the wheel and the truth is we haven't
got an awful lot of money just now.' I looked up and smiled.
'You've ruined me.'
'Oh, no, I haven't! You wait. Alan, are you going to the
shop tomorrow morning?'
'Too true; bright and early.'
'I am coming also. I'm going to learn everything about it.
I'm going to make your fortune.'
At this my heart sank a little. True, there was no harm
in her coming down to Northbrook Street and seeing what,