Was Mr. Visconti ruined?
He pulled out in time with what was left of my money and what was left of his wifes, and to do him justice he had settled some of mine on Mario. Of course he disappeared for a while, but he came back after things had quieted down. The Vatican made a very profitable deal, you remember, with Mussolini, so that what they lost to Mr. Visconti seemed very small beer indeed[138]. He had left me enough to live on in a modest way, but I have never been very keen on modesty. Life was very monotonous after Mr. Visconti disappeared. I even visited Havana, as I told you, and afterwards I went back to Paris for a while (Mario was with the Jesuits in Milan) that was when I met Monsieur Dambreuse. But when the affair was over I came back to Rome. I always hoped that one day Mr. Visconti would turn up again. I had a two-room apartment, and I did a little part-time work in an establishment behind the Messaggero. Life was very middle-class after all the Arabs and the cardinals. I had been spoilt by Curran and Mr. Visconti. No men have ever given me more amusement than those two did. Poor Wordsworth! my aunt added. He was not in the same league.[139] She gave a very young laugh and laid her hand on my knee. And then Oh praise to the Holiest in the height, as Wordsworth is fond of saying I was putting in a little part-time behind the Messaggero when who should walk into the reception room but Mr. Visconti. A pure coincidence. He wasnt looking for me. But how happy we were. How happy. Just to see each other again. The girls didnt understand when we joined hands then and there and danced between the sofas. It was one oclock in the morning. We didnt go upstairs. We went straight out into the lane outside. There was a drinking fountain shaped like an animals head, and he splashed my face with water before he kissed me.
What was that half-time employment? I suddenly broke out. Who were the girls? What were the sofas there for?
What does it matter now? my aunt said. What did any of it matter? We were together again and he splashed me and splashed me and he kissed me and kissed me.
But surely you must have despised the man after all he had done to you?
We were crossing the long aqueduct through the lagoons which leads to Venice-Mestre, but there were no signs of the beautiful city, only tall chimneys with pale gas flames hardly visible in the late-afternoon sunlight. I was not expecting my aunts outburst.
She turned on me with real fury as though I were a child who had carelessly broken some vase she had cherished over the years for its beauty and the memories it contained. I despise no one, she said, no one. Regret your own actions, if you like that kind of wallowing in self-pity, but never, never despise. Never presume yours is a better morality. What do you suppose I was doing in the house behind the Messaggero? I was cheating, wasnt I? So why shouldnt Mr. Visconti cheat me? But you, I suppose, never cheated in all your little provincial bankers life because theres not anything you wanted enough, not even money, not even a woman. You looked after peoples money like a nanny who looks after other peoples children. Cant I see you in your cage, stacking up the little fivers endlessly before you hand them over to their proper owner? Angelica certainly brought you up as she wanted you. Your poor father didnt have a chance. He was a cheat too, and I only wish you were. Then perhaps wed have something in common.
I was astounded. I could find nothing to say in reply. I thought of leaving the train at Venice, but then there was Tooley and I felt responsible for Tooley. The squalid station wrapped us round with its dirt and its noise. I said, I think Id better find Tooley, and I went away, leaving the old lady glaring on her couchette. Only as I closed the door of the compartment I thought I heard her laugh.
Chapter 14
I felt glad that I had not lost my temper, but nonetheless I was shocked and needed a little time for reflection, so I climbed down on to the platform and began to look around me for food. It was the last chance before Belgrade next morning. I bought six ham rolls off a trolley and a bottle of Chianti and some sweet cakes it was not so good a meal as Chicken would have provided, I thought sadly, and what a dreary station it was. Travel could be a great waste of time. This was the hour of the early evening when the sun had lost its heat and the shadows fell across my small lawn, the hour when I would take my yellow watering-can and fill it from the garden tap
Tooleys voice said, Would you mind getting me some more Coke?
Theres nowhere on the train to keep it cold.
I dont mind warm Coke.
Oh, the absurdity of it all, I could have cried aloud, for now the man with the trolley wouldnt take a pound note, and I had to give him two of the dollars which I was carrying in my pocket-book against emergencies, and he refused any change, though I knew the exact rate and told him the lire required.
Julian did a fabulous picture of a Coke bottle once, Tooley said.