The Girl in a Swing

by Richard Adams

very nearly turned round my tail and went home, but I'm

  much better now.'

  'Oh, of course I realize it must have been an awful

  strain -'

  'I just wouldn't let him leave me. I was very selfish, I'm

  afraid -'

  'Oh, you mustn't think that. Your marriage, your husband.

  Anyway, look at you now, running the shop -'

  'How about lunch?' I asked, interrupting. 'I've booked a

  table at the Queen's, Flick, in your honour. Are you ready,

  Kathe?'

  'M'm, rather! Oh, but just one thing before we go, Alan;

  about those Bow figures - you know, the Five Senses - oh,

  Deirdre, quick! Angela-'

  Deirdre had let her attention wander and Angela, forgetting

  the horses, was investigating a bee crawling over a

  potted fern. Deirdre grabbed her hand just in time.

  'Ah!' said Deirdre, 'don't you touch 'im! 'E've got 'ot feet!

  Mistralan, d'you want me fang on 'ere till you gets back?'

  'No, Deirdre, don't. I tell you what, we'll put up the

  "Closed for Lunch" notice just for once, and all go out until

  two. Mrs Taswell, will that suit you all right?'

  'I really don't think you need go to those lengths, Mr

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  Desland. I've brought some sandwiches today, so I can quite

  easily stay until you return. But after that, if you don't mind,

  I'll slip out for half an hour. I have to buy a pair of running

  shorts, and-'

  'For yourself?'

  'Actually, no, Mr Desland. But I must get them today.'

  'Well, that'll be quite all right, Mrs Taswell, and thank

  you very much. You're welcome to a full hour from two till

  three, of course.'

  After lunch, Flick and Angela went happily off with Kathe

  to do some shopping before going up to Wash Common on

  the bus.

  'I'm going to do a bceuf en daube for to-night,' Kathe was

  explaining as we came out of the Queen's. 'I've got the beef

  out of the deep freeze last night and it's marinading now,

  but I still need to buy a bouquet garni and one or two other

  bits and pieces.'

  'You like cooking?' asked Flick.

  'Well, I like eating, anyway,' replied Kathe, with a laugh,

  'and I must look after Alan and keep up his strength, mustn't

  I? It's a very nice kitchen at Bull Banks, isn't it?' she went

  on. 'And that lovely, old-fashioned kitchen table - very

  steady and lots of room. Oh, that reminds me - I don't suppose

  Mrs Spencer knows - about the grill - could you tell

  me -'

  I left them at it and went back to the shop.

  'Alan, she's awfully nice, as far as I can judge in such a short

  time. And I don't mean her looks, either - fantastic as they

  are.'

  The bceuf en daube (followed by strawberries and cream)

  had been eaten and highly praised, and Flick and I had finished

  a light-hearted game of Scrabble. Kathe, having opted

  out to go on reading Godden's British Pottery and Porcelain,

  had gone upstairs to have the bath first and, as she must

  have known, to give Flick a chance to talk about her.

  Flick, sitting in her old, accustomed place on the carpet

  212

  by the French windows, stirred her tea and went on before

  I could answer.

  'You were asking what I thought about the money. Well,

  don't sell anything - not a damn' thing. Raise a loan from the

  bank instead.'

  'Why so catmatic?'

  'Oh, you always were thick! You don't deserve Kathe, do

  you? My dear boy, you've obviously no idea of the potential

  of a girl like that. Unless there's something wrong with her

  that doesn't show on the surface, she'll make your fortune.

  Everyone will want to meet her and once they've seen her

  no one will be able to forget her. All you've got to do is

  make sure she gets enough elbow-room. She's damn' clever,

  too, I'll give her that.'

  'How d'you mean?'

  'Well, you wouldn't notice, but all to-day she's been building

  up a picture of herself as a wee waify brought to a

  frightening foreign country and so dependent on her darling

  Alan that she'd be utterly lost unless he stayed with her night

  and day -'

  'Well, she's fond of me, incredible as it may seem to you

  - and to me, too, come to that.'

  'Oh, yes, she's obviously nuts about you - that's what's so

  clever. She's not pretending at all; she's simply emphasizing

  the particular bit of truth that happens to suit her book. "I

  know I kept him to myself, but I couldn't help it; you see,

  I love him so much and I was all alone. I'm sure you'll all

  understand." Oh, I rumbled her all right. Actually she's pretty

  tough, if I'm any judge. 'Could even be ruthless if she wanted

  to, I should imagine.'

  'You really think she had an ulterior motive? I mean,

  other than wanting you to like her?'

  'She might have - how would I know? I still think it's very

  odd that she's told us nothing about her family and that she

  wouldn't be married in church. But now I've met her I don't

  think that really matters. I admire her. And I mean, she loves

  you, she's a smasher and an asset and she's clearly got her

  head screwed on the right way. Sense of humour, too. I think

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  you're doing more than all right, provided she's what you

  really want - and she obviously is.'

  'Oh, I'm so glad, Flick! What about Mummy, then?'

  'Well, now we come to it. To use your own word, you've

  been so ruddy uxorious that you seem to have completely

  overlooked the real problem. Do you want Mummy to go

  on living here - that's assuming she wants to - or d'you

  want her to move out, or what?'

  'Well, I'm blest if I know, to tell you the truth, Flick.'

  'No, you wouldn't, you clot, that being the most important

  thing.'

  'Well, first of all, obviously, I want her to be on good

  terms with me and Kathe. I mean, could she be persuaded to

  come back for a bit and see how we all get on, and then I

  dare say she and Kathe will talk it over -'

  'Well, that's a good idea as far as it goes, and I'll work on

  it when I get home. But I think Mum may not be coming back

  for - well, for a few days, yet, anyway.'

  'Oh, why not? I hope you don't think she's going to go on

  feeling -'

  'No, no, don't worry, dear boy. As a matter of fact she's

  absolutely longing to get it all straight. But I just don't think

  she'll be back for a few days yet, that's all.'

  'I don't get it. D'you mean -'

  At this moment there were piercing screams from overhead.

  Flick raced upstairs and I followed, to find Angela

  standing up on her bed, crying hysterically. Her face was all

  blubbered with tears. Flick flung her arms round her and

  rocked her to and fro.

  'There, there, darling, it's all right. Mummy's here! What

  happened? Did you have a nasty dream?'

  Angela - a hefty, normally rather impassive little girl,

  whom I had always found it difficult to get much out of seemed

  utterly distraught. She
buried her face on Flick's

  shoulder, clutching her with both hands and sobbing.

  'It's all right, darling. Did you wake up all alone in a

  strange bed, was that it? We're at Uncle Alan's, remember?

  Look, here's Uncle Alan come to see whatever's the matter.

  214

  He thought something dreadful must have happened to his

  Angela.'

  'The water, Mummy!' sobbed Angela. 'The water!'

  Kathe appeared for a moment in the doorway in her white

  dressing-gown and, seeing that the situation was under control,

  nodded to me and slipped out again.

  'What about the water, darling?'

  'It was all - water. I was lost - lost in the water!'

  'It was only a dream, love. There isn't any horrid old

  water - look!'

  'I was under the water, Mummy! Ohh!' And poor Angela

  began to cry again.

  'You know, that's funny,' I said, taking one of her hands.

  'I had a silly dream like that - oh, a long time ago now - and

  it frightened me too, although I was quite grown-up. Blue

  Ted, do you ever have frightening dreams?'

  'Yes, sometimes,' replied Blue Ted in a squeaky ventriloquial

  voice, 'but then Angela comforts me and makes it

  better.'

  Blue Ted obliged with a short touch of conversation and

  clowning and after a bit Angela began to cheer up. I left her

  to Flick and set off for bed myself.

  There was no light on in the bedroom, but the curtains

  were not drawn and the full moon, high above the downs

  to the south, was shining in with almost dazzling brilliance.

  Kathe had carried the dressing-table stool over to the long

  window and, kneeling on it, was leaning forward, hands on

  the sill, gazing down into the garden below.

  'Is Angela all right now?' she asked, without turning.

  'Oh, yes, she'll be O.K. now - 'probably be asleep again

  in two minutes. That's not like her at all, you know. She's

  rather stolid as a rule.'

  'I thought it would be best if I just kept out of it.'

  'Yes, of course; you were quite right.'

  'Oh, Alan, I love this house so much - our beautiful home!

  It's far, far away, isn't it? Far away from all those - those

  wrong things. I feel so happy and safe here with you. Do

  hurry up! I want to thank you.'

  215

  While I undressed and briefly cleaned my teeth, she continued

  her luxurious enjoyment of the moonlight.

  'D'you think moon-bathing would be nice, Alan? Could I

  get moon-burnt?'

  'Moonstruck, perhaps.'

  'Oh, I'm that now. What are those trees up on the downs

  - the big ones along the top?'

  'Beeches. That's Cottington's Clump. Ladle Hill over to the

  right.'

  'They look so strong and beautiful. Will you take me up

  there?'

  'Yes, indeed I will.' Lifting her dressing-gown, I caressed

  her naked thighs and buttocks.

  'Oh, that feels so nice! Don't stop! Look, everything's

  silver out there - the roses, the lupins, everything! Have you

  noticed, they've got no colour at all by moonlight? I keep

  saying to myself, "I want it all!" and then I remember I've

  got it all - you've given it to me! I want it all - I want it

  all! I won't leave any on my plate! What do you want,

  Alan?'

  'I want to make love to you.'

  'Well, good gracious, I'm not stopping you, am I?'

  'You're not co-operating.'

  'I am! You see if I'm not! I just want to go on looking out

  of the window, that's all.'

  I stood close behind her and she, without turning, reached

  back and drew my hands along her sides and up to her pendent

  breasts, sinking down a little where she knelt on the

  stool.

  'Ah! Oh, ;a! Oh, Alan, I love you so much! Deeper! That's

  right! Oh, you're marvellous!'

  'You made me."

  'Oh, I've never seen a more beautiful night in my life!

  The lovely moonlight! Alan, would you say you were in the

  background? Sort of background music?'

  'I can certainly play it like that. Andante con moto, I

  think, don't you? Now come on, tell me all the things you

  can see.'

  'Well, the yard, for a start.'

  216

  'No, that you can't. It's like the eagles and the trumpets

  - buried beneath some snow-deep Alps.'

  'The downs and the corn-field and the moon - I'd like to

  take them all inside me, everything. Those big poppies and

  the cypress tree and that funny little animal scuttling over

  the lawn.'

  'That's a hedgehog. I think I'd leave him out.'

  'Well, a nice goat, then, Alan. Aren't you my beautiful,

  sacred goat?'

  'Yes, the bounty of God.'

  'Are you? What am I, then?'

  'The work of God, it says.'

  'Oh, Alan, careful! Not too soon! Tell me one of those

  lovely Heine poems. That'll steady you up a bit.'

  I pondered for a moment, collected myself and pitched in.

  'Wenn ich in deine Augen seh',

  So schwindet all mein Leid und Weh;

  Dock wenn ich kusse deinen Mund,

  So werd' ich ganz und gar gesund.

  Wenn ich mich lehn an deine Brust,

  Kommt's fiber mich wie Himmelslust; -'

  'But there's not a word of truth in all this, darling. Where

  you are now you can't do any of those things.'

  'I know. I was hoping it might give you some ideas. I'm

  getting jealous of the downs and the garden, you see. They're

  getting more than their share.'

  'Oh, poor, frustrated lad - so patient and kind! Komm!'

  Laughing and bending forward, she slipped down from the

  stool, flung off her dressing-gown, ran over to the bed and

  threw herself supine across it, her body chequered black

  and white in the moonlight.

  'Mach schnell!'

  217

  18

  THE following morning, waking to find Kathe already up and

  gone, I pulled on a shirt and trousers and made my way downstairs.

  She, Flick and Angela were having breakfast in the

  kitchen.

  'If you're really sure,' Kathe was saying, 'that your mother

  won't be coming back for a few days yet, do you think it

  would be all right for me to alter one or two very small

  things, just while I'm looking after the house? You know how

  it is when you're running a house yourself - it's easier if you

  can do some things your own way.'

  'Oh, I'm sure that would be all right,' replied Flick.' 'Morning,

  Alan. Eat it up, Angela dear! Tell me what you've got

  in mind, Kathe. Improvements, I'm sure.'

  'No, not really,' said Kathe. 'But I just thought I might put

  up a line in here for drying the tea-towels, and perhaps rearrange

  the store-cupboard a bit. Oh, and then, if you're sure

  it's all right, could I move the dirty clothes-basket out of

  the bathroom and put another chair in there? Only little

  things like that; just to suit myself, really.'

  'I'll tell Mum. I'm sure she won't mind. Alan, look, I'm

  taking this suitcase with me. You can spare it until Mum

  comes back, can't you? Only
I'm packing a few clothes she

  asked me to bring for her, and some of her jewels and one or

  two other bits. Kathe and I got them together this morning

  while you were still snoring.'

  'Oh, yes?' I said pleasantly. 'Now I remember someone

  who really used to snore - when she was only twelve. Well,

  as long as you've got all your own stuff together, too. I don't

  want to be posting sponge-bags and hair-brushes off to

  Bristol after you've gone. You always were a great leaver behind,

  you know."

  'You useless twit -'

  'Such a nice, domestic atmosphere here,' said Kathe.

  ' 'Makes me feel really cosy. Alan, mein Lieber, I thought per218

  haps I'd stay at home today and see to one or two things.

  Can I? You could bring back some fish for supper if you

  like - plaice, if they've got any: we're all right for vegetables,

  though.'

  An hour later I saw Flick off at the station, promising to

  telephone that evening for a talk with my mother. I wished

  she could have stayed longer. It wasn't only my affection for

  her, and the reassurance and comfort of our talking and

  sparring together, as we had for the last thirty years. It had

  also given me intense pleasure to show Kathe off to her and

  that, as it were, by not showing her off. Flick was

  shrewd; we were deeply attached to one another and in the

  matter of whom I married it would, I had always known,

  take a lot to satisfy her. If Bill was an incontrovertible one

  up to her, Kathe was indisputably all square to me. There

  was no need to thrust her forward. As with Tony, I had

  simply stood aside and let the wheels roll. Like George Orwell's,

  my gold brick was made of gold (whoever would have

  thought it?), and like him, I found the discovery moving.

  All that happened at the shop that day - apart from some

  encouragingly good, brisk trade - was that Barbara Stannard

  dropped in, looking very much her best in a multi-coloured

  sun dress and matching white bag and shoes.

  'Hullo, Alan,' she said, in Deirdre's hearing. 'Nice to see

  you back! Where's the Queen of Sheba?'

  'If you mean Kathe,' I replied rather frostily, 'she's at home

  to-day. How are you, Barbara?'

  'I'm fine - but disappointed by what you've just told me.

  Alan, everyone's talking about your wife and how lovely

  she is and your incredibly romantic marriage. Is it true you

  eloped with her to Florida?'

  'No, not quite. It just happened that I had to go there and

  we got married at the same time.'

  'How super! But what a shame to deprive us all of Mendelssohn

  and bells and cars with white ribbons. How could

  you be such a spoil-sport?'

  'Oh, I'm a terrible spoil-sport, Barbara: I thought you

  knew that.'

  219

  This seemed to set the poor girl back a little, and I felt

  rather ashamed of myself. After all, I had no earthly reason

  to be malicious to Barbara.

  'We wanted a quiet wedding. Kathe naturally felt a bit

  nervous, miles from home in a strange country and being

  German, you know. It just happened that I had to go over to

  Florida anyway and the idea of a honeymoon there was

  rather attractive.'

  'And did it come up to scratch?' I gave a slight frown and

  she hastily added, 'The sea and the weather, you know. Nice

  hotel? Good food?'

  'Well, we were lent a house to stay in, actually; complete

  with black lady housekeeper. The swimming was splendid.

  Certainly nothing wrong with the food - I put on three

  pounds, I'm afraid.'

  'I'm so glad you had a nice time; and I do congratulate

  you. What I really came in to say, Alan, is that even though

  it wasn't a formal wedding we'd very much like to give you

  a present. We all feel we're old friends of yours - and Mother

  says Kathe's such a beautiful girl," she added rather irrelevantly;

  perhaps it was something she had set herself to say.

  'Will you let us know what you'd both like? You won't forget,

  will you?'

  I felt touched. So far no one else had bothered to offer us

  a present. I thanked Barbara warmly and promised to talk

  it over with Kathe. We chatted on for a few minutes, but I

  was saved from possible questions about my mother and

  the future set-up at Bull Banks by the entry of three or four

  customers in quick succession.

  That evening, as I returned home (with the plaice) it was

  raining; a gentle, scented rain, the sort that holds up Test

  matches and makes people remark, 'Ah, but it'll do a lot of

  good.' I came up the garden through a smell of wet leaves

  and grass, noticing how well the gladioli were coming on.

  ('Can't be too much rain for they buggers,' Jack Cain once