took place under water and the arrangement of interlocking lines was familiar enough in itself; but this girl’s face was vividly contorted, not bland and impassive like that of the whore in the photograph and Lee was lost to her in a secret, ultimate privacy. She could not incorporate this manifestation of his absolute otherness anywhere into her mythology, which was an entirely egocentric universe, and she felt a grieving jealousy of the act itself, which she understood only in symbolic terms.
‘If you deceive me, I’ll die,’ repeated Annabel as if it were a logical formula. If she felt relief and even pleasure each time she herself evaded real contact with him, knowing the magic castle of herself remained unstormed, she thought perhaps he kept the key to the castle, anyway, and one day he might turn against it and rebel. But when she saw rebellion in action, she was forced to desperate measures to disarm him for she might, possibly, perhaps, hopefully, be able by these means to turn an event that threatened to disrupt her self-centred structure into a fruitful extension of it. She let the curtain fall back into place and turned from the window. The party went on as if nothing had happened and Buzz was deep in conversation with a Black man in dark glasses so she could get no help from him. It was practical help rather than comfort she wanted. Because she went stealing with Buzz and they shared the secret of the ring, she did not regard Buzz as too much separate from herself but it was Lee she loved and Lee she now intended to wound.
She went immediately to the bathroom to kill herself in private. Fortunately it was unoccupied. After she lockedthe door, she remembered she should have borrowed one of Buzz’s knives and stabbed herself through the heart. She was irritated to realize she would have to make do with an undignified razor blade but quickly cut open both her wrists with two clean, sweeping blows and sat down on the floor, waiting to bleed to death. She had always bled very easily. She guessed, however, it would take some time to bleed to death. Her wrists ached but she was as content as if she had won another game of chess by unorthodox means.
‘They’ve locked us out,’ said Lee.
Carolyn pulled the white dress around her shoulders and laughed.
‘I’m absolutely filthy,’ she said luxuriously. To be discovered locked out with him in a state of erotic disarray was as public an announcement of their liaison as she could wish and she thought how simple things would now become, a face-to-face confrontation between the Wife and the Other Woman, a certain victory. She wound her arms round him as he tapped at the pane until a blonde girl let them in. Carolyn was too preoccupied with the management of her satin skirts to take any notice of this amazing young woman, whose sullen face, round and white as a saucer of milk, seemed to float in an enormous cloud of peroxide hair, and Lee was too sunk in thought to recognize her until she said: ‘Good evening, Mr Collins,’ giggled and added, ‘sir.’
She was dressed as an incipient tart in a tight, white poloneck sweater, stretch denim trousers and high-heeled boots; only her fat, pale, discontented lips and the startling fairness of her skin hinted at how young she was, the beauty queen of the evening paper, Lee’s pupil, to whom he taught current affairs and who now discovered him in a compromising position amidst scenes of drunkenness and drugged debauch.
‘Dear God, who brought you, Joanne?’
‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I won’t breathe a word.’
So he was trapped into complicity with a schoolgirl. Carolyn, looking round, was disappointed to see none of herfriends left in the room. Even Buzz had vanished, although the music still played. Lee became edgy and nervous.
‘I’ll take you home.’
She found her fur wrap on Buzz’s cot, beneath some offensive pictures of Lee and Annabel. They left the remains of the party and, as at their
‘If you deceive me, I’ll die,’ repeated Annabel as if it were a logical formula. If she felt relief and even pleasure each time she herself evaded real contact with him, knowing the magic castle of herself remained unstormed, she thought perhaps he kept the key to the castle, anyway, and one day he might turn against it and rebel. But when she saw rebellion in action, she was forced to desperate measures to disarm him for she might, possibly, perhaps, hopefully, be able by these means to turn an event that threatened to disrupt her self-centred structure into a fruitful extension of it. She let the curtain fall back into place and turned from the window. The party went on as if nothing had happened and Buzz was deep in conversation with a Black man in dark glasses so she could get no help from him. It was practical help rather than comfort she wanted. Because she went stealing with Buzz and they shared the secret of the ring, she did not regard Buzz as too much separate from herself but it was Lee she loved and Lee she now intended to wound.
She went immediately to the bathroom to kill herself in private. Fortunately it was unoccupied. After she lockedthe door, she remembered she should have borrowed one of Buzz’s knives and stabbed herself through the heart. She was irritated to realize she would have to make do with an undignified razor blade but quickly cut open both her wrists with two clean, sweeping blows and sat down on the floor, waiting to bleed to death. She had always bled very easily. She guessed, however, it would take some time to bleed to death. Her wrists ached but she was as content as if she had won another game of chess by unorthodox means.
‘They’ve locked us out,’ said Lee.
Carolyn pulled the white dress around her shoulders and laughed.
‘I’m absolutely filthy,’ she said luxuriously. To be discovered locked out with him in a state of erotic disarray was as public an announcement of their liaison as she could wish and she thought how simple things would now become, a face-to-face confrontation between the Wife and the Other Woman, a certain victory. She wound her arms round him as he tapped at the pane until a blonde girl let them in. Carolyn was too preoccupied with the management of her satin skirts to take any notice of this amazing young woman, whose sullen face, round and white as a saucer of milk, seemed to float in an enormous cloud of peroxide hair, and Lee was too sunk in thought to recognize her until she said: ‘Good evening, Mr Collins,’ giggled and added, ‘sir.’
She was dressed as an incipient tart in a tight, white poloneck sweater, stretch denim trousers and high-heeled boots; only her fat, pale, discontented lips and the startling fairness of her skin hinted at how young she was, the beauty queen of the evening paper, Lee’s pupil, to whom he taught current affairs and who now discovered him in a compromising position amidst scenes of drunkenness and drugged debauch.
‘Dear God, who brought you, Joanne?’
‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I won’t breathe a word.’
So he was trapped into complicity with a schoolgirl. Carolyn, looking round, was disappointed to see none of herfriends left in the room. Even Buzz had vanished, although the music still played. Lee became edgy and nervous.
‘I’ll take you home.’
She found her fur wrap on Buzz’s cot, beneath some offensive pictures of Lee and Annabel. They left the remains of the party and, as at their
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