The Green Knight (23 page)

She moved across the bed, sitting up and clasping her knees.

‘Tessa do you mind if I keep my shirt on, just for now – '

‘I don't mind! Harvey, whatever happens
don't worry
. Come here.'

He knelt on the bed, then lay down awkwardly as she stretched out beside him, lying on her back, the khaki shirt unbuttoned but still on. The shirt, that was something holy too, as if she were robed for a ceremony, as if it were all happening inside some great serene temple. He saw close to him her breasts, rising up suddenly out of the landscape, miraculous, pale and luminous in the faint light. His good leg pressed against her, felt the hem of her shirt as he began to turn, cautiously lifting his bad leg. A flash of pain shot up his thigh. He paused. Then, with a further determined movement of his adjacent hand, burrowed in under her waist which arched to his pressure, and laid his heavy head down into the hot softness of her bosom, while his other hand, tugging the khaki shirt back, gently explored the extension of her body. They lay quietly thus, breathing deeply. Then she moved slightly, dislodging his head, tilting onto her side, so that, with lips apart, they breathed each other's breath. Harvey thought, as he withdrew his hand from beneath her, damn, it's too late now to take off my shirt and vest. He moved his other hand vainly trying to haul the recalcitrant garments up a little. Someone's heart was beating violently. Her questing hand fleetingly touched his genitals and he glimpsed her closed eyes as their lips met. He found himself shuddering. He suddenly thought, how clumsy, how awkward, how
absurd
these fumblings are, we might as well be two machines trying to mate. He resisted an urge to thrust her away. Aware of this incipient movement Tessa withdrew a little. Their lips parted, their eyes opened, their hands stopped exploring. Harvey thought, it's not passion it's fear, it's miserable
timidity
, I'm cold, I'm no good, nothing is happening, I might as well be castrated. He turned on his back. He said, ‘Sorry, my leg is hurting.' Tessa murmured, ‘Just lie quiet for a while.' Supine they lay side by side. They both sighed, deeply. Then Harvey thought, is she laughing? No, she's smiling, I know she's smiling. She's a goddess, I can't serve her, I can't even
touch
her properly. What a perfectly awful business it all is, any other creatures can do it better. He moved again and his heavy leg fell over the edge of the bed, jerking him up with a gasp of pain. He sat up on the bed with both his feet on the floor, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands.

He felt Tessa slipping past him. She stood buttoning up her brown shirt, then drawing on a black and white kimono and tying its belt. Now he saw her smile.

‘Sorry, Tessa, it's my bloody leg. No, it's bloody me, like I said before, I'm under a curse. I'm terribly sorry. I couldn't – there was nothing – '

‘You think that was nothing!'

‘I've just proved I'm no good.'

‘Try to understand that you have learnt something. It's not just a matter of male and female mechanics or male and female roles! Love and trust and gentleness between two humans is very rare. Love is rare and expression of love is rare. I am grateful to you.'

Harvey had seized his trousers and was hastily dragging them on, manoeuvring his bandaged foot through the slit which had been made in the trouser leg. He thought,
what's
this, she's
grateful
, it's about
love
? How does
love
come in? What was I after anyway? Oh
God
!

He said awkwardly, staring at Tessa's pale bare feet, ‘I'm grateful to
you.
I know it's of value, I mean it's been
useful
, I mean I'm very glad I've had the feeling – you were very generous – I suppose, I expect, that it will make things easier later on, I don't just mean between us but – I'm sure I've learnt something – I'm sorry, I'm talking nonsense – but I'm sure you'll understand. Oh hell, I'm sorry, it's all my fault!'

‘There is no fault. You have taken an important step. We were closer, we are friends, friends help each other, friends trust each other, friends love each other. We won't forget this being together.'

Harvey had put on his trousers and his jacket and his socks and was frantically donning his shoe and his slipper. He moaned with exasperation. ‘But I
failed
– !'

‘Oh shut up, Harvey. Nothing has damaged you. You are young, your life is a great big place. If you need me I'm here, that's all. Now clear off.'

Tessa was sitting on one of the chairs, her long hands upon her knees. He said, ‘You are an angel.' He put a hand to the floor and fell awkwardly onto one knee. Smelling the fresh clean innocent smell of the kimono, he touched her hands, he kissed her feet.

 

 

Harvey summoned the richly appointed well-lighted lift. He pressed Emil's various keys into their various keyholes and entered Emil's beautiful flat. He turned all the lights on. He sat down heavily upon one of Emil's Chippendale chairs and looked at the Bohemian glass and the silver goblets and the alabaster Buddha and the eighteenth-century snuff-boxes and the Persian rugs and the Caillebotte and the Nolde and the Bonnard. He recalled the previous occasion when he had sat beside Tessa on her bed and their sleeves had touched and they had sat as silent as two statues. Had it started then? But what was
it
? Was it his idea or hers? And that sad remote angelic smile – was that
because
they were not in love? What on earth had she expected? Oh God, what a sickening mess he had made of it all! He got up and fetched Emil's malt whisky from its cupboard and poured it into one of Emil's Waterford glasses. He felt better. He decided to go to bed. He undressed and got into bed and switched off the light. At once a heavy dreamy peace descended on him. He lay on his back, floating, breathing deeply. He thought, I have slept with an angel, and it was nothing but good.

 

 

 

 

‘I have something to tell you – and something to ask you.'

Clement was with Louise. It was the next day, the day after Peter Mir's last ‘manifestation', as Lucas called it. Clement had telephoned Louise in the morning and had asked if he could come round before lunch. He could not help sounding, as he heard himself speaking, rather pompous and mysterious. Now facing her, he felt even more so.

It was Saturday and the house was full of the girls. He could hear Moy above moving rhythmically to and fro. (He wondered, is she
dancing
?) Downstairs in the kitchen Sefton was clattering the plates. Aleph was singing softly in the Aviary, occasionally touching the piano, producing a little note like that of a bird. He could not make out the song.

Louise was looking smart and neat, her face, not always so tended, discreetly powdered. Clement was aware of the faint smell of the powder as they stood close to each other by her bedroom window. She was wearing a straight brown tweed skirt and a close-fitting light woollen brown jerkin, with a white blouse showing at the neck. She kept touching the collar of the blouse, now smoothing it down, now pulling it up. As she listened to Clement's solemn statement it seemed to him that she blushed a little and her eyes widened. Was she expecting something from him, something perhaps very different from what he was going to say? As this suddenly occurred to him he felt himself blushing and staring. Then he thought, maybe she thinks it's
about Aleph!
At that moment the words of Aleph's song became clear: ‘When maiden loves she sits and sighs, she wanders to and fro.' He thought, confused, but it is Moy who is wandering to and fro. And now I shall upset Louise and alienate her and it's all
crazy
anyway – Luc is
crazy
, that terrible dead man is
crazy
!

He settled his tie. He too had dressed up. He said, ‘Listen, Louise, this is something strange and odd, and you may not like it.'

‘Oh?'

‘It concerns Lucas.'

Louise's hand stayed at her collar, touching her throat, pressing it, then unconsciously undoing the top button of her blouse. She frowned and took a step back.

Clement, aware that he was somehow blundering, went hastily on, assuming a chattering tone which he knew to be entirely unsuitable. ‘Well, there has been a surprise, you know that chap Lucas accidentally killed, well of course you know, well it turns out that he isn't dead after all, he's come back, he's perfectly recovered and he came to see Lucas, isn't that extraordinary?'

‘He's not dead? Why did they say he was dead and cause all that trouble?'

‘He was very ill and – you know the way people seem to die – their heart stops and so on – honestly I haven't got the details – he was just thought to be dead, or what they call clinically dead, and then somehow recovered.'

‘But when did this happen, why didn't they tell Lucas, why didn't the doctors tell him – poor thing, all that time thinking he had killed a man when he hadn't – '

‘I don't know when it happened, but anyway Lucas went away at once, he vanished, you remember – I expect they tried to tell him but he wasn't there – the first Lucas knew was the man turning up.'

‘Thank God!' said Louise. She recovered her hand from her throat and made a gesture as of relief and thanksgiving. She pulled the window curtain across a little and sat down in a chair. She neatly adjusted her tweed skirt. She said, ‘Clement dear, thank you for telling me, I shall tell the others. How intensely relieved Lucas must be – and all of us – it's wonderful! And the poor man, he's recovered, how splendid! Thank you for coming – did Lucas ask you to come?'

‘Yes, but – '

‘I will write him a letter. I'll go to see him – in a little while – what a wonderful ending to this terrible time.'

‘Yes, isn't it, but – '

‘Of course the man wasn't a mugger, was he, or a thief, or anything – ?'

‘No, of course not – he was perfectly innocent, all that was settled in court, the whole thing was a mistake.'

‘Why did you think I wouldn't like what you had to tell me?'

‘I don't know why I said that, I was stupid to say it – it's nothing awful – it's just that – well, he wants to meet you and the girls.'

‘Who, dear?'

‘The man, the chap Lucas hit.'

‘Why on earth should he want to meet us, how does he know we exist?'

‘It sounds silly, but when he came to look for Lucas, to reassure him, and Lucas wasn't there, he went around to look at people he thought knew him, as he thought Lucas might be staying with – '

‘But how did he know?'

‘He looked me up in the telephone book and then I suppose he followed me – '

‘But didn't he
tell
you?'

‘No, perhaps he was too shy, he wanted to wait for Lucas to come back.'

‘Of course, to give Lucas that lovely great surprise – I can understand that.'

‘Yes, yes, that was it – '

‘So you mean he watched us – how odd – I think I saw him – a man in a trilby hat and a green umbrella – '

‘That's him.'

‘I was a bit frightened. So it was that man! How extraordinary! Yes, I can understand he was waiting for Lucas – it's a bit weird all the same – and now he wants to meet us – but why?'

‘Oh, I think it's a sort of a whim, he just got interested in you, he thinks you all look so nice, and so ordinary – '

‘
Ordinary?
'

‘I mean, it's home life, he sees you as home life, he has no family, he's lonely, he just wants to say hello to you, it's just to oblige him, I thought you wouldn't mind seeing him, I know you'd be kind to him, he's rather shy, a little awkward and slow – '

‘Slow? You mean he's a bit
damaged
? Was he mentally damaged by – ?'

‘No, no, he's perfectly OK, he's just sort of diffident.'

‘If it means simply saying hello just once – is it me or the girls too?'

‘Actually he wants to see everyone, all the people he was studying, getting interested in, while he was waiting for Lucas, he wants Harvey and Bellamy too, it's like a sort of little celebration.'

‘You mean a party, all together, here? That's a bit much – '

‘Well, if you don't object.‘

‘I'm not sure whether I object or not. He sounds rather eccentric, I hope he isn't dotty – oh, all right, whenever you like, only let us know. There's the bell, I'm expecting Harvey, he rang up and we've invited him to lunch. By the way, when are you taking the girls to the Magic Flute?'

 

 

The kitchen was a large room, almost as large as the Aviary, benefiting from an extension made when the family first arrived in the house. It was also as a result of Sefton's meticulous orderliness, probably the tidiest. Louise had been gradually, to use Sefton's phrase, ‘phased put' (in the kindest way of course) of kitchen operations. She was permitted to cook, or more usually put together from pre-cooked items, her high tea or early supper. Major cooking was done by Sefton and Moy. Breakfast, not cooked, was an unorganised scuffle. Lunch was a serious meal only at weekends. Tea, if it occurred, consisted of tea and available biscuits. Dinner was always (for the girls only) a serious meal. Louise occasionally, now more rarely, joined them, on invitation or by her own request. On weekdays Moy had lunch at school, Sefton and Aleph if out took sandwiches, if at home ate bread and cheese and apples. A long scrubbed table occupied the centre of the room and a long tall dresser with open shelves covered one wall. A table-cloth appeared only for guests. The enormous fridge had been painted blue and green by Moy. There was a washing machine and (in spite of stiff resistance by Moy) a washing-up machine. Moy (Art) maintained a certain feud with Sefton (Order) since Moy had favourites among the plates and cups and mugs which had always to be washed by hand. Knives and forks and spoons were also individuals. As a result (in spite of Art and Order) of persistent breakages, there were no complete sets of anything. Moy preferred this state of affairs, as favouring individualism, and held strong views about the stations, upon the open shelves of the dresser, of particular plates and bowls, and the order, upon their hooks, of the cups and mugs. These patterns, which inevitably varied, had to be learnt by heart by Sefton, who was severely chided if she got it wrong. Moy and Aleph had a habit of buying, if
very
cheap, pretty china at junk shops. These additions caused, sometimes, contentious alterations in the order of battle, occasioning the dismissal of one-time favourites into invisibility. Washing up or consignment to the machine occurred after every meal however scanty, everything, including the spotlessly clean saucepans, was put away onto shelves or into cupboards or into the capacious larder, and the emptied table was brushed and scrubbed. In these daily and hourly operations Aleph played a fleeting though reasonably regular role, appearing at intervals and inquiring, ‘Can I do anything?'