A Severed Head (21 page)

‘
What story could anybody tell?
’

‘
Oh, I don
’
t know,
’
said Antonia.
‘
Something about me and Alexander for instance. You know the way people love to invent things. Somebody must have done something to put him against me. There must have been some misunderstanding. You haven
’
t done anything, have you, Martin?
’

‘
No, of course not,
’
I said.
‘
I haven
’
t seen Palmer. Anyway you know perfectly well I wouldn
’
t do anything like that.
’
Palmer must be on the rack, wondering if I had told Antonia. The thought did not displease me.

I became aware of a faint hissing sound behind me. It increased, and I turned to the window. It had started to rain. Looking at the greyish yellowish sky I saw it now as daylight. I turned back to the lighted room and the lifted frightened face of Antonia. The place was as bleak and lurid as a prison cell.

‘
Perhaps he
’
s going mad,
’
she said.
‘
Martin, did you know that his mother was insane?
’

‘
No, I didn
’
t,
’
I said.
‘
Was she? That
’
s interesting.
’

‘
He only told me quite recently,
’
said Antonia.
‘
Last week, before –
’
She sobbed, wiped her face slowly all over with the handkerchief and sobbed again.

I stood, hands in the pockets of my dressing-gown, watching her cry. I pitied her, but only as an unconscious extension of my own dilemma.

‘
So Honor Klein is there,
’
I said.

‘
I hate the woman,
’
said Antonia.
‘
She was supposed to be going back to Cambridge, but there she still was and now she
’
s actually living in the house. She gives me the creeps.
’

‘
Me too,
’
I said. The door bell rang and we both jumped.

I looked at Antonia, and her wide eyes followed me to the door. I crossed the hall and flung the front door open. It was the removal men.

I told them to dump the stuff anywhere and returned to Antonia. She was standing up now, examining her face in her pocket mirror. She dabbed a little powder on to her nose and was now rubbing her cheeks which were still shiny with tears. She pushed the scarf back off her hair and gave an exhausted sigh. She looked haggard.

‘
Darling, do use your common sense,
’
she said.
‘
You may as well have the stuff put in the right rooms.
’
She seemed a little recovered and went out to organize the removal men. A few minutes later two giants came shuffling in carrying the Carl-ton House writing-table with the Audubon prints stacked on top of it. I told them where to put it. When they had gone I cut the string which held the prints together and began to lay them out against the wall in a row: the puffins, the nightjars, the gold-winged woodpeckers, the Carolina parrots, the scarlet tanagers, the great crested owls. The uprooted familiar things affected me with a sad sick feeling as if I were dimly remembering that someone had died. I could hear Antonia
’
s voice in the hall instructing the men. What was my sickness? I stared through the prints, unable to focus my eyes upon them, into another world. Behold her bosom and half her side, a sight to dream of not to tell.

Antonia came back into the room and shut the door. She was carrying the Meissen cockatoos one in each hand. She put them on the two ends of the mantelpiece. She said,
‘
That
’
s all for this room, I
’
ve told them. Oh, the bird prints, yes, you
’
ve taken them. I
’
d forgotten that they were yours.
’
She looked at them sadly and began to take off her coat.

‘
We rather forgot about mine and yours, didn
’
t we?
’
I said.
‘
I
’
ll give them back to you.
’

‘
No. no,
’
said Antonia.
‘
I don
’
t want them. You must have your own things.
’

‘
Well, you must come and help me arrange them,
’
I said.
‘
You will, won
’
t you?
’

Antonia looked at me. Her face contracted, and she shook her head, trying to speak. Then she said,
‘
Oh, Martin, I
’
m so miserable, I
’
m so miserable!
’
She began to wail with a low keening sound, and sat down heavily on the bed rocking herself to and fro. For a while I watched her.

The door bell rang again. Antonia
’
s weeping stopped as if at the turn of a switch, and as I passed her she clutched my hand for a moment. I gave her a reassuring squeeze and went on out into the hall. Someone was silhouetted in the open doorway. It was, of course, Palmer.

Ever since Antonia had arrived I had been expecting him, and it was with an extraordinary exhilaration that I now saw his tall figure confronting me. I could not see his face properly, but I could feel my own becoming expressionless and bland. I was glad he had come.

Palmer said,
‘
Is Antonia here?
’
His voice was low and harsh and t here was emotion in him.

I said,
‘
Yes, do you want to see her?
’

‘
I
’
ve come to take her away,
’
said Palmer.

‘
Really?
’
I said.
‘
But suppose she doesn
’
t want to go?
’

Antonia had opened the sitting-room door and the light now showed me Palmer
’
s face, the straight tense line of his mouth and his eyes practically closed. It was the face of a man in danger and I exulted at the sight of it. Antonia said in a clear voice,
‘
Come in here, please.
’
The removal men were coming up the stairs again carrying the Chinese Chippendale chairs. I could hear them bumping on the banisters. I went back into the sitting-room and Palmer followed. I closed the door and we all looked at each other.

Palmer said to Antonia,
‘
Please come with me, Antonia.
’
He spoke in a cold dead manner and I could see what she meant about his having changed into another person. He must by now be certain that I had told her.

She hesitated, looked at me, looked at Palmer, and said in an almost inaudible voice,
‘
All right.
’

‘
You
’
re not going,
’
I said to her.

Palmer said,
‘
Just keep out of this, will you, Martin? You
’
ve meddled enough in things you don
’
t understand.
’
He was looking at Antonia.

‘
You meddled in things you didn
’
t understand,
’
I said,
‘
when you destroyed my happy and successful marriage.
’

‘
It wasn
’
t happy and successful,
’
said Palmer, still staring at Antonia.
‘
Happy husbands don
’
t keep little girls as mistresses. Put your coat on, Antonia.
’

‘
She isn
’
t going with you,
’
I said.
‘
Can
’
t you see she
’
s afraid of you?
’

Antonia stood paralysed, swaying a little, her shoulders twisted, looking from one to the other of us with big alarmed eyes. She did in fact look the picture of terror.

Palmer said,
‘
Martin, you and Antonia will do as I tell you.
’

‘
Not any more,
’
I said.
‘
Poor Palmer. Now get out.
’

The notion that I was shortly going to hit Palmer came to us all at the same time. It showed in Antonia in a sudden excited moistening of the lips, and in Palmer in a relaxing of his expression, a return of the wide-eyed stripped look which he had worn in Cambridge. He stopped looking at Antonia and turned to face me.

He said softly,
‘
You are a destroyer, aren
’
t you.
’
Then he said to Antonia.
‘
Use your reason. I want to talk to you, and not here.
’

I said,
‘
For Christ
’
s sake go.
’

Palmer said,
‘
Not without her,
’
and stepped forward towards Antonia, who moved back against the window, her hand coming up to her mouth. He put his hand on her arm as if to pull her and she gave a little cry at the contact. I followed him and dug my fingers into his shoulder. He turned and knocked my grip roughly away, and as his hands came up I hit him in the face as hard as I could. He lost his balance and fell heavily. Antonia stepped over him and ran from the room. The fight, such as it was, was over.

Violence, except on the screen, is always pathetic, ludicrous, and beastly. Palmer got slowly to his knees and then manoeuvred himself to a sitting position with his back to the wall. He kept his face covered with his hand. I squatted beside him attentively. I noticed that the glass of one of the prints was cracked. I felt no anger against Palmer now, just a satisfaction in what had happened. The rain was still hissing down outside the window. After a minute or two I said,
‘
Are you all right?
’

‘
Yes, I think so,
’
said Palmer through his hand.
‘
No serious damage. It hurts like hell.
’

‘
That was the general idea,
’
I said.
‘
Let me see.
’
I gently pulled his hand away. Palmer
’
s face, contracting against the light, showed me the beginnings of a splendid black eye. The eye was closed completely and the area round it was raw and swollen. A little blood marked the place on the cheek where my fist had arrived.

‘
I haven
’
t anything to treat you with,
’
I said.
‘
You
’
d better go home. I
’
ll get you a taxi.
’

‘
Give me a handkerchief, would you?
’
said Palmer.
‘
I can
’
t see anything at the moment.
’

I gave him one and he held it to his damaged eye while he got laboriously to his knees again. I helped him up and brushed down his clothes. He stood there like a child while I did so. I kept my hands upon him and he did not move away. It was like an embrace. What I experienced in that moment was the complete surrender of his will to mine. Then I felt him trembling. I could not bear it.

I said,
‘
I
’
ll give you some whisky.
’
I poured some into the cracked glass. Palmer sipped it with docility.

Antonia said from outside,
‘
The men are going. Could you pass me some money? I haven
’
t enough.
’

I found a few shillings in the pocket of my jacket, and said to Palmer,
‘
Could you lend me five bob, by any chance?
’