Read Online The Darkroom of Damocles by Willem Frederik Hermans - Free Book Online Page A

yours?’
    â€˜I call him Uncle, don’t I?’
    â€˜But is he your wife’s father?’
    â€˜That too.’
    â€˜He’s very broad-minded. Or is that because of the war? In England they say the war’s brought down the moral standards of the Dutch.’
    â€˜He was like that before the war. He’s in a world of his own. If he had any idea of what’s going on he’d be the strictest moralist of them all. Falling standards has nothing to do with it in his case. In my case, it might.’
    He pressed himself to her back and put his arms around her. His hands were on her breasts. She thrust the back of her head against his face. As one, they climbed the last two steps, then stood still for a moment in the dark, by the door to his old bedroom.
    â€˜In my case there does seem to have been a loss of moral standards,’ Osewoudt repeated. ‘I would never have gone in for any of this in the old days.’
    He felt her nipples harden between the tips of his fingers; he pushed her against the door of his room, which was not properly shut and so swung wide open. They stumbled and fell across the bed, on which lay two flat cardboard boxes that gave way under their weight with soft plopping noises and a smell of mould, dust, and stale herbs.
    He pushed up her skirt, she lifted her legs and crossed them over his back. A loose floorboard thudded dully like a diesel engine, great green bicycle wheels rotated in the gloom. The girl’s mouth felt so much bigger than it actually was. Oh tobe slurped up by her, followed by the thought: this girl has come all the way from England to get shagged by Resistance heroes.
    He got off the bed, stuffing his handkerchief into his trouser pocket.
    When he had switched the light on he saw brown cardboard boxes stacked against the wall, Elly on the bed with one hand pulling her skirt down and the other shielding her eyes from the light, and protruding from either side of her the burst cardboard boxes leaking hundreds of small, red birds’ feathers. They were still drifting to the floor.
    Osewoudt shut the door. Elly lowered her arm, burst out laughing and then sat up. She swung her legs off the bed.
    â€˜The things a girl will do to avoid suspicion!’
    â€˜This war turns everything into a performance,’ Osewoudt said. ‘Come on, get up. This place is a mess.’
    He pulled her to her feet, took the boxes off the bed, knocked them back into shape and added them to one of the stacks against the wall.
    Elly swept up the scattered red feathers with her hands. ‘Is that all you’ve got to say?’
    â€˜You’re crazy, that’s what I think you are. Was that what you wanted to hear? Or something else? Forgive me, but I haven’t known you long enough to form any other opinion.’
    She caught him by his jacket lapels.
    â€˜Never mind. Time passes much faster these days. If you think you don’t know me well enough, just ask me questions – anything, the kind of thing you wouldn’t normally ask people until you’ve known them months, or years. What else do you want to know about me?’
    â€˜That aunt you stayed with last night, is she married?’
    Elly blinked a few times, as if this were a problem she needed a long time to solve, then looked away while soundlesslymoving her lips and crumpling his lapels. Then she gave them a sharp tug.
    â€˜Do you want to know the address?’
    â€˜I just want to know if she’s married.’
    â€˜Yes, she’s married, but her husband happened to be out of town.’
    â€˜That makes no difference. Your aunt isn’t likely to keep it from her husband. Is she in the Salvation Army by any chance?’
    â€˜Salvation Army? Salvation Army? What on earth? In the Salvation Army! Whatever gave you that idea?’
    â€˜Nothing,’ Osewoudt said. ‘I’m only asking because of the photo. You know, the one you gave me. I met a