The Collector (13 page)

“What’s wrong. Am I hurting you?”

Yes, I said.

She moved off my knees then, she unhooked her arms from my head, but she still sat very close.

“Won’t you undo my hands?”

I got up, I was shamed, I had to go to the window and pretend to do something to the curtain, all the time she watched me over the back of the sofa, kneeling on it.

“Ferdinand. What’s wrong?”

Nothing’s wrong, I said.

“There’s nothing to be frightened of.”

I’m not frightened.

“Come back then. Turn out the light. Let’s just have the firelight.”

I did what she said, I turned out the lights, but I stayed by the window.

“Come on.” Very coaxing, she was.

I said, it’s not right. You’re only pretending.

“Am I?”

You know you are.

“Why don’t you come and see?”

I didn’t move, all the time I knew it was a bad mistake. The next thing was she went and stood by the fire. I didn’t feel excited any more, I felt all cold inside. It was the surprise.

“Come and sit here.”

I’m all right here, I said.

Well, suddenly she came to me, she took my hand in her two and pulled me to the fire, I let her. When we were there she held out her hands, she had such a look, so I untied them. At once she came close and kissed me again, for which she had to stand on tiptoe almost.

Then she did something really shocking.

I could hardly believe my eyes, she stood back a step and unfastened her housecoat and she had nothing on beneath. She was stark. I didn’t give no more than a quick look, she just stood there, smiling and waiting, you could feel it, for me to make a move. She put up her arms and began to undo her hair. It was deliberate provoking, standing there naked in the shadows and firelight. I couldn’t believe it, rather I had to believe it, but I couldn’t believe it was what it seemed.

It was terrible, it made me feel sick and trembling, I wished I was on the other side of the world. It was worse than with the prostitute; I didn’t respect her, but with Miranda I knew I couldn’t stand the shame.

We stood there, she was just in front of me shaking her hair loose and I felt more and more ashamed. The next thing was she came up and began to take off my coat, then it was my tie, and she undid my shirt buttons one after the other. I was like putty in her hands. Then she started pulling my shirt out.

I kept thinking, stop it, stop it, it’s wrong, but I was too weak. The next thing was I was naked and she was against me and holding me but I was all tense, it was like a different me and a different she. I know I wasn’t normal then, not doing the expected, she did some things which I won’t say except that I would never have thought it of her. She lay beside me on the sofa and everything, but I was all twisted inside.

She made me look a proper fool. I knew what she was thinking, she was thinking this was why I was always so respectful. I wanted to do it, I wanted to show her I could do it so I could prove I was really respectful. I wanted her to see I could do it, then I would tell her I wasn’t going to, it was below me, and below her, it was disgusting.

Well, we lay for some time still and I felt she was despising me, I was a freak.

In the end she got up off the sofa and kneeled beside me and stroked my head.

“It happens to lots of men, it doesn’t matter.” You’d think she had all the experience in the world to have heard her.

She went back by the fire and put her housecoat on and sat there watching me. I got my clothes on. I told her I knew I could never do it. I made up a long story so that she would pity me, it was all lies, I don’t know if she believed it; about how I could feel love but could never do it. How that was why I had to keep her.

“But doesn’t it please you at all to touch me? You seemed to like kissing me.”

I said, it was when it got past the kissing.

“I shouldn’t have given you such a shock.”

It’s not your fault, I said. I’m not like other people. Nobody understands.

“I understand.”

I dream about it, I said. It can’t ever be real.

“Like Tantalus.” She explained who he was.

She was quiet a long time. I felt like giving her the pad. Getting her downstairs and out of it. I wanted to be right alone.

“What kind of doctor told you you could never do it?”

Just a doctor. (It was the lies I told her. I never saw any doctor, of course.)

“A psychiatrist?”

In the army, I said. A psychiatrist.

“What sort of dreams did you have about me?”

All sorts.

“No sexy ones?”

She would go on like that. Never leave it alone.

I’d be holding you, I said. That’s all. We would be sleeping side by side with the wind and the rain outside or something.

“Would you like to try that now?”

It wouldn’t do any good.

“I’ll do it if you want to.”

I don’t want to, I said.

I wish you never started, I said.

She was silent, it seemed ages.

“Why do you think I did it? Just to escape?”

Not love, I said.

“Shall I tell you?” She stood up. “You must realize that I’ve sacrificed all my principles tonight. Oh, yes, to escape. I was thinking of that. But I
do
want to help you. You must believe that. To try to show you that sex—sex is just an activity, like anything else. It’s not dirty, it’s just two people playing with each other’s bodies. Like dancing. Like a game.” She seemed to think I ought to say something, but I let her talk. “I’m doing something for you I’ve never done for any man. And—well, I think you owe me something.”

I saw her game, of course. She was very artful at wrapping up what she meant in a lot of words. Making you feel you really did owe her something, just like she never started it all in the first place.

“Please say something.”

What, I said.

“That you do at least understand what I’ve just said.”

I understand.

“Is that all?”

I don’t feel like talking, I said.

“You could have told me. You could have stopped me at the very beginning.”

I tried, I said.

She knelt in front of the fire.

“It’s fantastic. We’re further apart than ever.”

I said, you hated me before. Now I suppose you despise me as well.

“I pity you. I pity you for what you are and I pity you for not seeing what I am.”

I can see what you are, I said. Don’t you think I can’t.

I sounded sharp, I’d had enough. She looked round quick, then bent down, her hands covering her face. I think she was pretending to cry a bit. Well in the end she said in a very quiet voice, “Please take me down.”

So down we went. She turned when she was inside and I was going to go, having removed her cords.

“We’ve been naked in front of each other,” she said. “We
can’t
be further apart.”

I was like mad when I got out. I can’t explain. I didn’t sleep the whole night. It kept on coming back, me standing and lying there with no clothes on, the way I acted and what she must think. I could just see her laughing at me down there. Every time I thought about it, it was like my whole body went red. I didn’t want the night to end. I wanted it to stay dark for ever.

I walked about upstairs for hours. In the end I got the van out and drove down to the sea, real fast, I didn’t care what happened.

I could have done anything. I could have killed her. All I did later was because of that night.

It was almost like she was stupid, plain stupid. Of course she wasn’t really, it was just that she didn’t see how to love me in the right way. There were a lot of ways she could have pleased me.

She was like all women, she had a one-track mind.

I never respected her again. It left me angry for days.

Because I could do it.

The photographs (the day I gave her the pad), I used to look at them sometimes. I could take my time with them. They didn’t talk back at me.

That was what she never knew.

Well, I went down the next morning, and it was like it never happened. She didn’t say a word about it, nor did I. I got her breakfast, she said she didn’t want anything in Lewes, she went out in the cellar to walk a bit, and then I locked her back in and went off. Actually I had a sleep.

That evening it was different.

“I want to talk to you.”

Yes, I said.

“I’ve tried everything. There’s only one thing left for me to try. I’m going to fast again. I shan’t eat until you let me go.”

Thanks for the warning, I said.

“Unless…”

Oh, so there’s an unless, I said.

“Unless we come to an agreement.”

She seemed to wait.

I haven’t heard it yet, I said.

“I’m prepared to accept that you won’t let me go at once. But I’m not prepared to stay any longer down here. I want to be a prisoner upstairs. I want daylight and some fresh air.”

Just like that, I said.

“Just like that.”

As from this evening, I suppose, I said.

“Very soon.”

I suppose I get a carpenter in, and the decorators and all.

She sighed then, she began to get the message.

“Don’t be like this. Please don’t be like this.” She gave me a funny look. “All this sarcasm. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

It was no good, she had killed all the romance, she had made herself like any other woman, I didn’t respect her any more, there was nothing left to respect. I knew her lark, no sooner she was up out of the room she was as good as gone.

Still, what I thought was I didn’t want the no-eating business again, so it was best to play for time.

How soon, I said.

“You could keep me in one of the bedrooms. It could be all barred and boarded up. I could sleep there. Then perhaps you’d tie me up and gag me and let me sit sometimes near an open window. That’s all I ask.”

That’s all, I said. What are people going to think with boarded-up windows all over the place?

“I’d rather starve to death than stay down here. Keep me in chains upstairs. Anything. But let me have some fresh air and daylight.”

I’ll think about it, I said.

“No. Now.”

You’re forgetting who’s the boss.

“Now.”

I can’t say now. It needs thinking.

“Very well. Tomorrow morning. Either you tell me I can come up or I don’t touch any food. And that will be murder.” Really fierce and nasty she looked. I just turned and went.

I thought it all out that night. I knew I had to have time, I had to pretend I would do it. Go through the motions, as they say.

The other thing I thought was something I could do when it came to the point.

The next morning I went down, I said I’d thought things over, I saw her point, I’d looked into the matter, etcetera—one room could be converted, but it would take me a week. I thought she would start sulking but she took it O.K.

“But if this is another put-off, I will fast. You know that?”

I’d do it tomorrow, I said. But it needs a lot of wood and bars special. It may take a day or two to get them.

She gave me a good old tight look, but I just took her bucket.

After that, we got on all right, except that I was pretending all the time. We didn’t say much, but she wasn’t sharp. One night she wanted a bath and she wanted to see the room and what I’d done. Well, I knew she would; I had got some wood and made it look as if I was seriously doing things to the window (it was a back bedroom). She said she wanted one of those old Windsor chairs in it (quite like old times, her asking for something) which I got the next day and actually took down and showed her. She wouldn’t have it down there, it had to go back up. She said she didn’t want anything she had (in the way of furniture) downstairs upstairs. It was dead easy. After she saw the room and the screw-holes she really seemed to think I was going to be soft enough to let her come up.

The idea was I would go down and bring her up and we would have supper upstairs and then she would have her first night upstairs and in the morning she would see daylight.

She got quite gay sometimes. I had to laugh. Well, I say laugh, but I was nervous, too, when the day came.

The first thing she said when I went down at six was she had my cold, the one I got at the hairdresser in Lewes.

She was all bright and bossy, laughing up her sleeve at me, of course. Only the joke was going to be on her.

“These are my things for tonight. You can bring up the rest tomorrow. Is it ready?” She already asked that at lunch, and I said yes.

I said, it’s ready.

“Come on then. Must I be tied?”

There’s just one thing, I said. One condition.

“Condition?” Her face dropped. She knew at once.

I’ve been thinking, I said.

“Yes?” Really burning, her eyes were.

I’d like to take some photographs.

“Of me? But you’ve taken a lot already.”

Not the sort I mean.

“I don’t understand.” But I could see she did.

I want to take pictures of you like you were the other evening, I said.

She sat on the end of her bed.

“Go on.”

And you’ve got to look as if you enjoyed posing, I said. You got to pose the way I tell you.

Well she just sat there, not saying a word. I thought at least she would get angry. She just sat there wiping her nose.

“If I do it?”

I’ll keep my side of the bargain, I said. I got to protect myself. I want some photos of you what you would be ashamed to let anyone else see.