Motherland (29 page)

‘We talked about you a bit,’ says Larry. ‘But I didn’t give away any secrets.’

He means about the baby.

Nell has returned from her trip looking tired and behaving restlessly. Larry shows her the paintings he’s been working on during his time away, but she only looks at them for a moment before moving on again. She makes funny little dance steps round the room, lights a cigarette, traces circles in the air with one hand.

‘Don’t you sometimes think there’s too much art in the world?’ she says.

‘Far too much,’ says Larry.

‘So what
bit
did you talk about?’

‘Oh, Louisa had a go at me for not settling down.’

‘Like a Labrador.’

‘Is that what Labradors do?’

‘My parents have one. He goes round and round in his basket, pawing at his blanket, and then he settles down.’

She acts it out, with such vivid mimicry that Larry laughs.

‘I can’t see myself doing that,’ he says.

‘So what excuse did you give?’

‘Oh, you know those sorts of dinner conversations. No one expects a serious answer.’

‘No, I suppose not.’

She stops pirouetting and stands looking out of the window, her back to Larry.

‘But you have more serious conversations with Kitty, I expect.’

‘Sometimes,’ says Larry.

‘What do you talk about?’

‘Ed, mostly.’

‘You talk to Kitty about Ed?’

‘Yes,’ says Larry. Nell’s voice has gone quiet and she’s become very still, as if she doesn’t want to miss a sound. ‘I’ve known Ed for ever. He can be a strange chap sometimes.’

‘What sort of strange?’

‘He goes off on walks by himself. Spends a lot of time away. He’s a bit of a brooder.’

‘He seemed rather interesting to me.’

‘He is. He’s remarkable, actually.’

‘I suppose all that going on walks by himself is hard for Kitty,’ says Nell.

‘Yes, it is a bit.’

‘And you talk to her about that.’

Larry goes and stands behind her, taking her in his arms.

‘What’s all this about?’ he says. ‘You’re not jealous of Kitty, are you?’

‘Should I be?’ says Nell.

‘No. Of course not.’

‘Why of course not? She’s very pretty. Beautiful, really.’

‘Because she’s married to my best friend.’

Nell holds herself stiff and upright, not yielding to his embrace.

‘I’m not blind, Larry,’ she says. ‘I saw how you looked at her.’

‘For God’s sake!’ He moves away. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? You do talk nonsense sometimes, Nell.’

‘There, you see,’ she says, as if he’s proved her point.

‘No, I don’t see. What am I supposed to see? That I enjoy looking at Kitty? Why wouldn’t I? She’s an old friend. What am I supposed to do? Glower at her?’

‘Why are you getting so worked up about this?’

‘Because it’s ridiculous! Because it annoys me that you even raise such silliness. You of all people! I thought you’d escaped all that conventional claptrap. You go off with Julius for two weeks and I don’t cross-question you about who you’ve been looking at or who you’ve been talking to.’

‘You can if you want.’

‘I don’t want. What I love about us is that we trust each other. You said it yourself. We don’t put each other in cages.’

Nell says nothing. Larry feels he’s proved his point, and is demonstrably right, while at the same time knowing he’s in the wrong. As a result he’s far more disturbed than he cares to admit.

Nell moves away and lights another cigarette. She stands by the window, smoking, looking out.

‘Good old fags,’ she says. ‘Something to do while we’re not talking.’

‘Oh, Nell,’ says Larry.

‘Do you feel hurt?’ she says. ‘Do you think I’m being unfair to you?’

‘Yes, I do,’ says Larry.

‘You know how I am,’ she says. ‘I’ve been the same from the start, haven’t I? All I’ve ever said to you is, don’t lie to me.’

‘How am I lying to you?’

‘I’ve never asked for promises. I’ve never tried to tie you down. We’re with each other because we love each other. There’s no other reason. If you don’t want to be with me all you have to do is say so.’

‘But I do want to be with you.’

‘More than you want to be with Kitty?’

‘Yes!’ Larry feels helpless rage growing within him. ‘Why do you keep going on about Kitty? She’s my friend, just like Ed’s my friend. Am I not to have friends now? Nothing has ever happened between me and Kitty. First she was Ed’s girl, and now she’s Ed’s wife. That’s all there is to it.’

‘Why do you keep going on about Kitty, Larry?’

‘Me!’ He waves his hands in the air with frustration. ‘Me! It’s you who’s been going on about Kitty, not me.’

‘Can you guess why?’

‘Of course I can guess why. You’re jealous of her. But I keep telling you there is nothing between me and Kitty.’

‘Still all about Kitty,’ says Nell.

‘All right! Forget Kitty! No more Kitty! She’s not important.’

His chest feels tight. He wants to hit something.

‘So what’s important, Larry?’

He gets it then, the thing that’s driving him wild. It’s the soft relentless tone, as if he’s a child who’s been set a puzzle, and she’s the teacher who wants to get him to work out the answer for himself. This has the perverse effect of making him not want to give the approved answer. He’s supposed to say, ‘You and me, that’s what’s important.’ But it won’t come out.

Instead he says, ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve had enough of this conversation. I don’t think it’s getting us anywhere.’

‘So what do you want to do instead?’ she says.

‘I don’t know. Relax. Enjoy being with you. I haven’t seen you for two weeks.’

‘You want to go to bed?’

‘No, I don’t mean that. Well, yes, I do. But I mean just relax. Feel good together.’

‘I want that too,’ says Nell.

‘Come over here, then. Give me a kiss.’

She comes to him and they kiss, but he can feel her holding back from him. This, and the kiss, and having her in his arms, fills him with a sudden rush of desire.

‘We could go to bed,’ he says.

‘Would you mind if we didn’t?’ she says.

‘No, of course not.’

But his body minds. The more he knows he can’t have her, the more he wants her. The code of good manners sustains him. You don’t grab. You wait to be served.

‘I’m supposed to be having dinner with somebody,’ she says.

‘Who?’

‘A friend of Julius’s called Peter Beaumont. He came to your private view. He’s rich.’

‘Oh, well then. You’d better have dinner with him.’

‘Why don’t you come too?’

‘Me!’

‘I bet you could do with a square meal. I know I could.’

Suddenly it all seems too ridiculous for words. Larry feels the tension melting away.

‘You just want the dinner?’

‘Of course. He’s bound to take us somewhere swish.’

‘But he won’t want me.’

‘If I tell him to, he will.’

*

Peter Beaumont greets Larry with a soft handshake, a sweet sad smile.

‘Nell’s told me all about you. I did so admire your work. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

‘I do hope you don’t mind me tagging along,’ says Larry.

‘Of course he doesn’t mind,’ says Nell. ‘I’ve told him you’re a starving artist and it’s the duty of the wealthy man to support the arts.’

Peter takes them to the Savoy Grill. It’s immediately clear that he’s a familiar figure here. Larry feels under-dressed and out of place. Nell behaves as though she owns the restaurant.

‘I want heaps and heaps of red meat,’ she says.

Peter is all too obviously smitten with Nell. From time to time he meets Larry’s eyes with a look that says, Isn’t she extraordinary! It doesn’t seem to occur to him that Larry might be a rival. He orders two bottles of excellent wine, and Larry, not really knowing what’s going on, decides to drink as much as possible.

‘Lawrence is a genius,’ Nell tells Peter. ‘You must buy his paintings.’

‘Perhaps I could visit your studio,’ Peter says to Larry, as if seeking a rare favour.

‘I’m afraid Nell is too kind,’ says Larry.

She’s certainly kind to Peter. She smiles at him, and reaches across the table to touch his hand when wanting to hold his attention, and takes care to turn the conversation towards his concerns.

‘Peter has this terrible wife,’ she says. ‘She treats him in the most vile manner. If he ever touches her, even by accident, she shudders.’

Peter gives Larry his sad smile.

‘One of those mistakes one makes,’ he says.

‘Poor Peter,’ says Nell, stroking his hand.

Larry is lost. He has only joined them because it seemed Nell wanted him to be there, to witness that her evening with this male friend is innocent. And yet here she is, acting as if they’re lovers.

‘Isn’t Nell amazing?’ Peter says to Larry. ‘I tell her she’s like a princess in a fairy tale.’

‘I’m the prize you get after all that nasty questing,’ says Nell.

By the end of the evening Peter is holding Nell’s hand in his and Larry is thoroughly miserable.

‘Now you must come back to my place for a nightcap,’ says Peter.

Even Larry knows when the time has come to go.

‘I’ll be on my way,’ he says. ‘Excellent dinner. Do me good to walk it off.’

Nell barely notices that he’s leaving.

The walk back to Camberwell through night streets takes a good hour, long enough in the cool air to sober Larry up and leave him hurt and angry. He has no idea what Nell was thinking of when she included him in the dinner, and he has no idea what her relationship is with Peter Beaumont. All he knows is that he has been made to look like a fool.

He half expects Nell to show up at his door later that night, but she never comes. Nor does she make contact the following day. His hurt and anger, feeding on itself, turns into a crazy
obsession which stops him from working or thinking about anything else. Then in the evening, there she is.

‘Nell! Where have you been?’

‘That’s not much of a welcome,’ she replies.

‘I’ve been going insane!’

‘Why? Am I supposed to report to you daily?’

Her blank pretence of not understanding him drives Larry into open rage. He shouts at her, there on the doorstep.

‘I don’t know what the hell you’re doing! I don’t know what you want of me! I don’t know why you treat me like this! But I’m sick of it. I don’t want any more!’

She lets him shout, looking away down the street until he’s finished. Then she turns back to him as if everything he’s just said is an embarrassing body noise to be overlooked.

‘May I come in?’

In his room she turns on him with cold anger.

‘Never do that again. Never shout at me in public. What right have you to talk to me like that? You don’t own me.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Nell!’

‘If you have something to say to me, say it right now.’

‘You know I have.’

‘I only know what you tell me, Lawrence. I’m not a mind reader.’

‘Last night,’ says Larry. ‘That was humiliating.’

‘Humiliating? You ate a very good dinner, if I recall. Peter was extremely pleasant to you. Why was it humiliating?’

‘You went off with him at the end.’

‘Did you stop me?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Why not? Apparently you minded.’

‘Of course I minded!’ he cries.

‘Then why didn’t you say so?’

‘Oh, come on, Nell. I have my dignity. I’m not going to throw my weight about when a man has just bought me an expensive dinner.’

‘So I’m the one who’s supposed to throw his generosity back in his face, am I? I’m supposed to say, Sorry, Peter, I’m going home with Lawrence because he’s sulking.’

‘Why did you ask me last night? What was the point of that? Anybody can see he’s in love with you. Why rub my face in that?’

‘Maybe I wanted to show you you don’t own me.’

‘Of course I don’t bloody own you!’

‘Then what’s all this fuss about, Lawrence?’

She’s staring at him with those big truth-demanding eyes, and he knows now he’s going to have to say something he really means.

‘You’re going to have my baby,’ he says.

‘Ah,’ she says. ‘So that’s it.’

‘Of course that’s it. That’s everything.’

She takes out her cigarettes and offers him one, but he shakes his head. Her hands are steady as he lights her cigarette, but his are shaking. She draws the smoke in deep and exhales, turning her face away.

‘So if there wasn’t a baby, you wouldn’t mind about any of it?’

‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘Yes, I’d mind.’

‘Do you know something I’ve realised about you, Lawrence? You never take the physical initiative. You never touch me unless I touch you.’

Larry feels the tightness in his chest returning. Somehow he’s got caught in a trap from which there’s no escape. Perhaps she means him to touch her now. He feels paralysed.

‘Do you realise that?’ she says.

‘That doesn’t matter,’ he says. ‘That’s not the point.’

‘Oh,’ she says, ‘is there a point? Do tell.’

‘The point is the baby.’

‘What baby?’ she says.

‘The baby you’re going to have. Our baby.’

‘There is no baby,’ she says. ‘Not any more.’

She goes on smoking, barely looking at him.

‘What?’ he says.

‘I had a miscarriage,’ says Nell. ‘I wasn’t going to tell you yet.’

He stares at her, unable to take in what he’s just heard.

‘You weren’t going to tell me?’

‘But I have now.’

He struggles to make sense of what’s happening.

‘Why not tell me?’

‘I thought if I didn’t tell you,’ she says simply, devastatingly, ‘you’d go on loving me.’

He gives a sudden gasp.

‘Oh, Nell!’

He takes her in his arms and holds her close, tears rising to his eyes.

‘Oh, Nell!’

He’s overwhelmed by pity and relief and guilt. Once again the future has changed before him, swinging abruptly to send him off in a new direction. Nell reaches out from within his embrace to stub out her cigarette.

‘I’m so sorry, Nell. I’m so, so sorry.’

‘Are you, darling?’

Her gentle voice is back.

‘What happened? When did it happen?’