At the moment I would prefer something stronger and more tranquillizing. It is not every day one sees a sister consigned to the flames. Like La Pucelle[7].
I dont quite
Joan of Arc[8].
I have some sherry at home, but its rather a long ride and perhaps
My apartment is at any rate north of the river, Aunt Augusta said firmly, and I have everything we require. Without asking my assent she hailed a taxi. It was the first and perhaps, when I think back on it now, the most memorable of the journeys we were to take together.
Chapter 2
I was quite right in my weather forecast. The grey clouds began to rain and I found myself preoccupied with my private worries. All along the shiny streets people were putting up umbrellas and taking shelter in the doorways of Burtons, the United Dairies, Mac Fisheries or the ABC. For some reason rain in the suburbs reminds me of a Sunday.
Whats on your mind? Aunt Augusta said.
It was so stupid of me. I left my lawn-mower out, on the lawn, uncovered.
My aunt showed me no sympathy. She said, Forget your lawn-mower. Its odd how we seem to meet only at religious ceremonies. The last time I saw you was at your baptism. I was not asked but I came. She gave a croak of a laugh. Like the wicked fairy.
Why didnt they ask you?
I knew too much. About both of them. I remember you were far too quiet. You didnt yell the devil out. I wonder if he is still there? She called to the driver, Dont confuse the Place with the Square, the Crescent or the Gardens. I am the Place.
I didnt know there was any breach. Your photograph was there in the family album.
For appearances only.[9] She gave a little sigh which drove out a puff of scented powder. Your mother was a very saintly woman. She should by rights have had a white funeral. La Pucelle, she added again.
I dont quite see La Pucelle means well, to put it bluntly, I am here, Aunt Augusta.
Yes. But you were your fathers child. Not your mothers.
That morning I had been very excited, even exhilarated, by the thought of the funeral. Indeed, if it had not been my mothers, I would have found it a wholly desirable break in the daily routine of retirement, and I was pleasurably reminded of the old banking days, when I had paid the final adieu to so many admirable clients. But I had never contemplated such a break as this one which my aunt announced so casually. Hiccups are said to be cured by a sudden shock and they can equally be caused by one. I hiccupped an incoherent question.
I have said that your official mother was a saint. The girl, you see, refused to marry your father, who was anxious if you can use such an energetic term in his case to do the right thing. So my sister covered up for her by marrying him. (He was not very strong-willed.) Afterwards, she padded herself for months with progressive cushions. No one ever suspected. She even wore the cushions in bed, and she was so deeply shocked when your father tried once to make love to her after the marriage but before your birth that, even when you had been safely delivered, she refused him what the Church calls his rights. He was never a man in any case to stand on them.
Yes. But you were your fathers child. Not your mothers.
That morning I had been very excited, even exhilarated, by the thought of the funeral. Indeed, if it had not been my mothers, I would have found it a wholly desirable break in the daily routine of retirement, and I was pleasurably reminded of the old banking days, when I had paid the final adieu to so many admirable clients. But I had never contemplated such a break as this one which my aunt announced so casually. Hiccups are said to be cured by a sudden shock and they can equally be caused by one. I hiccupped an incoherent question.
I have said that your official mother was a saint. The girl, you see, refused to marry your father, who was anxious if you can use such an energetic term in his case to do the right thing. So my sister covered up for her by marrying him. (He was not very strong-willed.) Afterwards, she padded herself for months with progressive cushions. No one ever suspected. She even wore the cushions in bed, and she was so deeply shocked when your father tried once to make love to her after the marriage but before your birth that, even when you had been safely delivered, she refused him what the Church calls his rights. He was never a man in any case to stand on them.
I leant back hiccupping in the taxi. I couldnt have spoken if I had tried. I remembered all those pursuits up the scaffolding. Had they been caused then by my mothers jealousy or was it the apprehension that she might be required to pass again so many more months padded with cushions of assorted sizes?
No, my aunt said to the taxi-driver, these are the Gardens. I told you I am the Place.
Then I turn left, maam?
No. Right. On the left is the Crescent.
This shouldnt come as a shock to you, Henry, Aunt Augusta said. My sister your stepmother perhaps we should agree to call her that was a very noble person indeed.