The Sugar Mother (8 page)

 

W
hen Cecilia telephoned, Edwin did not tell her about the visitors. What time was it over there she wanted to know. Vorwickl had missed her connection. Yes it was lonely. Vorwickl was to arrive a day late. Yes tomorrow. Look forward he told her. I'll do that she said. How was he she wanted to know. Had he eaten the macaroni cheese yet? She had two bathrooms; she was laughing. A white rose in one and a dark red rose in the other. Fresh little basket of fruit and another little basket of sewing things and a whole bottle of whisky all to herself. A present. In the bathroom he asked. He thought he heard her laughing. She had killed a cockroach. A cockeroach in the exquisite apartment. No sorry suite. She couldn't work the taps she told him. Phone the manager he said. I have she said. You can sit on the toilet and phone all sorts of people. No not on the lavatory now. Laughing again; he thought he heard her laughing. But the hotel housekeeper she said such a lovely soothing voice Canadian and polite and kind. Lovely he said. No tea she said. Drink whisky he said. I'll do that she said she missed the tea. Had he remembered the quotation she wanted to know. He was still searching he told her books everywhere. Nose in book he said. She was sure she said he'd come up with something suitable. The conference she said. How's the conference he asked. The delegates she told him some of them were in love with themselves. Self-abuse he said. She was laughing. One female she told him from the U.S. she said a gynecologist read herself into a trance with the most boring wandering lengthy paper. Good
heavens he said. Yes she said this gynecologist pleased with herself did not notice the audience slowly getting up and leaving on bent legs. I get the picture he said. Yes she said this woman had to be helped down the steps of the platform, stage—whatever; she didn't know where she was. Potted palms she said. Lovely he said. The dining room she told him superb. Eat it all he said. I am she said. Bronze helmets full; roast potatoes. Bronze helmets he asked. Yes dishes she said. Roast beef and roast pork on spikes every roast has a gentleman carver. Sounds good he said. It is she said. Ornamental. Food in a colored mountain. Cakes. A tower of puff pastry balls held together in a sweet golden syrup. Maple syrup he supposed. Yes she said must be maple syrup. What about he said that remark of Jason's
If only children could be got some other way without the female sex
it could be twisted to meet the needs of her paper. Most of the papers were boring that's why she was eating too much. She had missed what he had just said would he say it again. I'll write it he said. No she had not been interviewed. Don't be sad he said go and buy something nice to wear Canadian wolf he said. She was missing him she said. He said he missed her. She would need something warm to wear she said. The wind. Also she would get too fat she said. Nonsense he said love you love you. Last night she told him the renowned obstetrician the Frau Doktor von Eppell threw a raincoat at one of the organizers. Conference organizer. Von Eppell from Vienna. Fat. It was the organizer's own raincoat which he offered to lend. Disgusted and offended he supposed. Yes yes she said the garment very shabby. Looked awful she said lying on the carpet in the magnificent lobby of the hotel. Yes she had her own coat thirty-four floors up but they were being hustled off to a reception party in another building. The wind bitterly cold she said. Yes she was warm enough. All this luxury she said need to share with…The Viennese obstetrician he said. She was laughing. Yes she speaks English. You could sit in a Mexican restaurant and talk shop he said. Don't like Mexican she said. Canadian he said. Yes she said. She had three lamps five armchairs a dozen shelves and cupboards six
mirrors a writing table a coffee table and a king-size bed. Round. Would take three. Who shall we have in bed with us think about it she said. I'll do that he said. She couldn't turn off the telly she moaned whenever she turned the knob she got another program. Hang your towel over it he said. I'll do that she said the radio won't turn off either. Country cousin he said. He heard her laughter pealing in a far-off place. Fresh salmon she managed. That's nice he said. My room my suite she said is on the twenty-third floor. Should be a good view he said. Yes the lake a Great Lake beautiful but cold shines cold. The lake he told her is polluted. All the lakes are polluted don't drink them. I'll try not to she said. Someone coming to the door he said can hear someone coming to the door. Ring you tomorrow she said. Goodbye sweetheart he said. Trouble with being away she said I picture you as you used to be. That's nice he said. Love you love you she said and with a click she was gone.

He heard Leila's mother and Leila pitting the veranda with their heels. He told himself as he opened the front door that he had intended to tell Cecilia about the visitors.

 

“
A
nd another thing, I simply have no real idea of her age. Leila, sixteen? Oh my God! Sixteen, fifteen? Worse! No, twenty-two surely, or twenty-three—that's more like it.” Edwin, walking in the pine plantation, talking to himself, surprising himself with his own voice, waited in one place, hoping that Daphne would be coming
with Prince. He was almost certain which tree Daphne would reach by a certain time. This time she was obviously late. He was about to leave when he saw her approaching, walking very fast. From a distance he was able to see her expression was grim. She seemed to be walking without pleasure. Prince ran in circles, disappearing and appearing in his usual way. She was obviously not expecting to meet Edwin.

“Teddy!” she said, her expression changing as she saw him.

“You're later than usual,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “Today is my golf day as you know.” Edwin had forgotten. Daphne's life was divided into her days—one for her horse, one for tennis, one for golf and four for school. They flashed through his apologetic mind. “And tonight,” Daphne continued, “I have to be back at school for our rehearsal—it's nearly parents' weekend.” Edwin nodded. “While I was at golf,” Daphne continued, “Prince got out and ate a bikini.”

With visions of solid legs beneath stocky sensible tweed skirts, large blouses, and shapeless felt hats pulled firmly over brindled hair, he said, “Bikinis? At golf? That must be a sight, Daph; where do you all strip off?”

“Oh don't, Teddy,” Daphne groaned. “It was too awful. I found him with what I thought was a bit of rag. He has a weakness for clothes. I got the rag away from him and pushed it into the dustbin. You see, cloth does awful things to his bowels. Then just now, when I was about to come out, my neighbor rang. You see, she knows Prince. Apparently she'd spent the whole day trying to find something smart yet big enough, something she could actually get into. She'd come home. Left her shopping on the veranda and the next minute it, the bikini, was gone.” Daphne sighed. “I went to the bin, fished out the rags, washed them and took the unspeakable remains round there and apologized. It took simply ages and here I am two hundred dollars down the drain and all that groveling. I'm worn out!”

“They must have had gold sequins on them,” Edwin said in his most considerate and consoling manner.

“Everything's so damned expensive nowadays,” Daphne said. “Well, enough of that,” she added. “Any news of Cecilia?” He matched his walk to her stride. He shook his head. It was Leila he wanted to talk about.

“I simply have no idea of Leila's age,” he said. “Sometimes she seems a mere child of seventeen or less and sometimes she's a mature young woman in her early thirties.” He liked dwelling on thoughts of Leila's appearance.

“Which is still very young for people of our day and age,” Daphne said, with what Edwin felt to be a rather unnecessary forthright tone. “I suppose they've come back, have they,” she said.

“Yes,” Edwin said. “It's rats.”

“In the next-door house? Rats?”

“Yes. Rats.”

“I'm not throwing sticks for anyone who eats other people's clothes,” Daphne said sternly as Prince, leaping up madly, put his front paws on her chest. “Off with you!” She searched for and found a stick. “I suppose you can't get them to leave,” she said. “It's one thing to be friendly to people next door, just friendly”—she seemed to be recalling her own neighbors—“and another to have them squatting.”

Edwin, thinking of the bathroom, sighed. They should have had a second bathroom, perhaps even a third, when all their friends and acquaintances went bathroom mad. The Fairfaxes had had two, one each side of the master bedroom. A blue door to his and a soft rose pink for hers. Ida Fairfax, for a time, said at parties that she just loved to roll out of bed and onto the loo.

“There's only one thing to do,” Daphne said. “If you won't have the decorators in, you'll have to have a houseguest turn up suddenly. Someone who'll be dreadfully in the way, in the bath all the time or on the phone for hours, someone who'll use up all the milk, preferably someone who can bring a pet, a dog.” They both looked at Prince. Edwin looked away from him quickly. Had he really wanted pets? “I've even a better idea.” Daphne became excited. “A weekend of sin under your
roof. They would leave then. Champagne,” she said, “music late at night in the bathroom, squeals from the bedroom, coming in late for breakfast, undressed still, and going back to bed till lunchtime, taking lunch back to bed, a hot lunch in bed, that sort of thing.” Edwin stared at her. “You could have the music of ‘Hiawatha' it's supposed to be frightfully erotic. I've got it somewhere.” She bent down. “Look the other way or something, Teddy,” she said, “while I do something absolutely awful to help Prince get rid of this half-eaten stick.”

Edwin looked through the motionless trees. It was beginning to get dark. No one was about. Daphne was speaking to her dog. He could not hear what she was saying. On the edge of the dark plantation, at the side of the road, on the edge of the suburb, hearing the distant noise of traffic on the main road and hearing Daphne's voice caressing her dog, he felt terribly alone. It was a sudden feeling of desolation similar to those feelings at boarding school in the time between afternoon school and tea, or that hour in the early morning before the bell rang for breakfast. Edwin pushed his hands into his pockets, a schoolboy's habit, perhaps to find the consolation of some schoolboyish treasure left in the torn lining. There would be lights on in his house. The warm smell of cooking would greet him as soon as he stepped indoors. Leila would come out into the hall, pleased to see him. He could not wait for her pleasure.

“To get rid of these people, Leila's mother and Leila,” Daphne was saying, “it is essential that you have an affair. You must fill them with disgust at your behavior while your wife is away. You must do it for Cecilia.”

“Yes, but who shall I have an affair with?” he asked with suitable gestures of despair.

“With me, of course,” Daphne said. “I've just thought it all out. They will think that it's been going on for ages, that you are truly awful and that I'm awful too.” She was excited. “I never thought I could be so creative, Teddy!” she said. “They say that man—meaning women and men—that man creates best from that which is the rejected part of him. I'll bring
Prince. What an inspiration! He can eat Leila's clothes. Will you be sure to get in the champers, Teddy? We'll need a dozen bottles, at least.”

 

“
H
ave you ever considered adopting?” Leila's mother asked Edwin. Every morning she studied the tea leaves at the bottom of his cup. She reported seeing money, a great deal of money, and a cradle and a boy's bicycle. In Leila's cup she repeatedly saw a ring. “Either a friendship or a wedding, Leila,” she said. She even saw in Edwin's cup, one morning, what she called strife between father and son. Edwin, hearing the word “father” applied to him, experienced strange sensations. He wondered which notebook. He could not think of a suitable title for the entry and he pondered for some time on the correct way for it to be listed in the index. He had to admit to himself as he sat in the ice cream parlor (Leila's mother had fancied an ice) that lately he had not written in any of his notebooks. He had forgotten to record the external and the internal and the intangible. He simply was neglecting to keep his records up to date. Certain aspects of his life were going on as usual. He went to the university most days, gave his lectures and tutorials and spent the usual time in study and preparation. With a reluctant honesty he knew he was thinking more about Leila instead of reading the students' assignments with the care they deserved. Often the lunchtime noises coming across the grass to his quiet room seemed to him to be like the dull roar of a distant football match or the crowds waiting for a royal bride
to appear on the balcony of a palace. From other directions there was often music. Listening to it, he smiled over the heap of dull essays. It was Leila's sort of music; it had a steady deep beat and a thin plaintive howling which was, he knew, the singing. Liking the sound, he often opened his window. Later, when all was quiet except for the ever-present factory-like noise of a massive air-conditioning plant, he would give himself up to his now habitual pleasant little dream of Leila. He had no right to this little dream, but its impossibility made it all the sweeter.

Quite clearly Leila and her mother admired him. It was easy to enjoy approval and admiration even without any recent practice. One morning he found, when searching among his clothes, a youthful yellow tie and some socks patterned with cream triangles. He felt quite excited when he put them on. It was like being young again to wear them.

Sometimes he pushed aside the neatly written pages he was marking and tried to think of poems which expressed his feelings.
Lovely Laura in her light green dress—
a misquotation probably, but it did not matter. Leila would look nice in green, a soft fresh green like the new leaves bursting along the almond branch. Almond blossom, that was pretty and would be like the colors of Leila's unspoiled skin. Her skin, what he had seen of it, was fresh and sweet and smooth. He often, in his imagination, saw the whole of her young body without clothes.