Chapter 61
Robert’s recent silences had affected Min more than she wanted to admit but she thought it was probably to do with the event in New Zealand. She too was angry but she was less likely to internalise her anger these days. She was lying on her bed meditating on various matters when she heard a car stop outside and the engine turned off. She stayed still and waited. She thought about Mr Telefono for the first time for ages. A voice she recognised called,
‘Helloo,’ so she got off the bed and went to open the door. She stared at Gerard as if he were an apparition. He asked himself in and she had two mad thoughts.
‘He’s come to apologise for the episode up the hill or for the bombing of the ship in Auckland.’
But he put his arm around her and asked her in French if she was pleased to see him. She answered in English that she was not at all sure. He smiled and held on to her while looking rather mockingly into her bemused face.
‘Come on. It’s only a little game which we are playing.’
‘I don’t usually play these games.’
‘Let me teach you the rules. They are not difficult.’
With that he led her over to the couch sat her down and kissed her with the energy he had shown the other night but this time he prolonged it until he felt her relax and respond. When he let her go he asked,
‘Have you any wine?’
‘Only whisky.’
‘I have some in the car.’ He sprang up and went outside. Min sat dumbfounded and looked blearily as he held up a bottle of wine.
‘Du vin de la douce France,’ he crowed, producing a corkscrew from his pocket. Min wanted to say that she had sworn an oath not to drink or eat anything produced by ‘la douce France nucléaire,’ but she was in a state of mute shock. It was as if her earlier outburst had drained her of the needed polemic.
‘First we toast, then we quaff and we kiss again with our marinated tongues making delicious contact.’ Min thought to herself that here was a caricature of a French lover.
‘Is this your normal technique?’ she said through bruised lips.
‘For the mistress - yes.’
‘How bloody presumptuous you are.’ She sounded limp and unconvincing and was suffering from very confused feelings where curiosity played a part, she admitted to herself later.
They toasted and quaffed (which he had pronounced ‘quarf’ - to rhyme with ‘staff’) and he took the glass out of her hand. Having put his own down with a certain deliberation he pressed his mouth against hers. His kiss tasted rich and fruity as their tongues wrestled like blind worms and she felt a mixture of repugnance and fascination. They repeated steps one and two until the glasses were empty and step three was announced.
‘Now we go to the bedroom where I will remove your clothes,’ (pronounced ‘clothers’).
‘I need a shower - I feel all sweaty.’
‘Excellent idea - we prepare each other in the douche.’
Although Gerard was small, he was all muscles and bones. Min rubbed his torso with her soap and it felt like priming a racing animal. At the same time he sawed between her legs, groaning quietly. She squealed when he moved up to anoint her armpits and he put his soapy hand over her mouth saying ‘Shh’. She was having difficulty being transported beyond the comic antics to serious eroticism so she finished the ablutions in a business-like manner and turned off the water.
Once supine on the bed her mood began to change and she felt herself more responsive to Gerard’s less laughable manoeuvres. He was suddenly gentle and murmured, ‘Doucement, doucement.’ Time stopped and there was nothing in the world but their bodies and a drive to union. Min heard herself groan like a baritone as they found connection. Gerard looked at her as if she were a total stranger striving for their common summit. When the synchrony of their bodies’ movements rose to the apex they sighed unanimously and collapsed like rag dolls, played out. When she woke later Gerard had gone and he had put a sheet over her. Min felt as if she had dreamed the whole episode, such was the surreality which overtook her. How had she submitted to the practised blandishments of this man she had nothing in common with? Did this give him the wrong idea about her which she had done little to correct? Was her response the function of her need which she had ignored while striving for understanding?
Unwilling thoughts of Michael entered her brain so she climbed from the bed to shower again and settle down to look at the exam papers she had to mark. There was still some wine in the bottle so she poured herself a glass and sat down with purpose to read what the students had produced that afternoon. Little would they know, but she was in an indulgent mood to give them her best shot.
Chapter 62
At the college the Principal was working in her office and Min knocked softly on her open door before checking her mail. She wanted to report on some of the amusing answers which had helped pass the evening in which she was determined to finish what was usually a tedious chore.
‘I’ve been meaning to talk about your plans for next year Min. Is it too much to hope for that you might consider extending your contract?’
Min was taken aback - next year seemed quite a long way off.
‘It’s my perennial problem - finding staff and trying to keep them if they are suitable.’
‘I haven’t thought about it except in a passing sort of way. There always seems to be plenty of stuff to occupy my mind. But I’ll try and let you know soon.’
They sat and chatted about the examination answers a few of which contained identical mistakes. Min commented on the fact that only two of the students concerned were near each other and she wondered if and how cheating had taken place. She handed over the more suspect ones and the principal said she’d have a good look and if necessary, call the students to explain.
‘You know - it’s really odd how the same mistake can appear in scripts where the students have been widely separated. Examination telepathy I call it.’ She looked closely at Min and told her that she was looking relaxed.
‘Perhaps it’s finishing marking all those exam papers.’
The idea of staying on for another year might be a good one after the effort of learning the art of tropical living had been sort of accomplished. Time was going very quickly and it would be practical to recycle her hard-thought-out lectures with a new batch of students. She would be sorry to say goodbye to the ones who would be moving on.
The idea of Gerard was problematic though. She had arranged to meet Yvonne to begin regular English lessons the following week and she knew it would be impossible to do that and engage with Gerard. It might have been a flash in the pan anyway and she had no feelings for him, apart from the resurrection of her dormant libido.
As she was working out what she would do next he appeared at the staff room door.
‘What... ?’
‘I am here to see the Directeur,’ he said before she had time to say more.
‘Can you tell me where he is?’
Min got up and went to the door of the Principal’s office. ‘There is a gentleman here to see you.’
As soon as the Principal appeared at the staff room door, Gerard sprang up with his hand outstretched. Min introduced them and Gerard launched into questions about Min’s competence to teach his wife English. The Principal looked rather bewildered by the question until he explained that it was a “leetle plaisanterie”. Min laughed mirthlessly and the Principal, still in the dark, frowned slightly.
‘O God - I’m not supposed to moonlight and the bugger has dobbed me in - what’s going on in his devious mind?’ she thought in a bit of a panic. But things became clear after this unnecessary skirmish and Gerard smiled charmingly when he was invited to take a seat.
‘I have a French café - you know eet? - and I have a good idea to provide morning tea to your staff. Cheap rates - because of Meen.’
There was no immediate response from the Principal and Min looked fixedly at the papers in front of her. What would this polite woman make of th
is out – of - left - field situation? Perhaps she’d think that Min had a hand in the idea. She would probably find it difficult to turn it down point blank because that was not her way. Finally she said,
‘Thank you for the suggestion. I’ll need time to think about it. We do have an arrangement with one of the near villages who bring us traditional food on Fridays when the classes finish early.’
‘I do not come on Fridays then.’
In answer to the question about the food Gerard kissed his digits in the traditional manner and said it was “délicieux – naturellement”. Min spoke up and said it would probably be croissants.
‘Croissants - baguettes - palmiers - you order according to taste.’ He went on to explain that he imported the ingredients from overseas so they were of high “qualité”. That was perfectly true and Min recalled the croissants she had pounced on when she saw them in a local bakery but had gagged on when she tasted the meat fat in place of butter.
The outcome of the discussion was inconclusive but Gerard seemed happy with that. He pranced off as if the deal was done and waved as he climbed into his van under the breadfruit tree.
The Principal laughed at his resourcefulness and asked Min how she knew him. (Did she think that her relaxed disposition had something to do with the rascal?) Min said that she had become a regular at the café and occasionally practised her French conversation which was an endangered species these days. To her surprise, the Principal told her that she had spent two weeks in Paris at an OECD seminar and had learned a few useful phrases; the conference had been translated into English, she hastened to add.
‘That is why it is so good for our students to become fluent in English - not necessarily to read Shakespeare, but to be able to travel the world and participate in world affairs.’
Min confessed that she was thinking of introducing the valedictory class to Shakespeare because she thought that the issues were universal and the language strangely hypnotic, if arcane.
‘I trust your judgement my dear and if you think they can handle it, go ahead. They are a good class I must say. Several have studied overseas already.’
At that moment, one of the members of that class appeared at the door, wanting to talk to the Principal. She told him to go along to her office and she would be with him in a moment. The young man bowed respectfully and smiled at Min who greeted him.
‘This young man wants to become a pastor and study for the priesthood and wants my support. But I don’t want to lose him from the teaching body. I think his talents are more useful there.’ Min was surprised to hear this admission.
‘But religion is such a huge part of life here,’ she ventured, but with a sub-text of agreement.
The Principal stood up. She looked suddenly tired and overburdened. Instead of pursuing the point she raised her eyes in a gesture of resignation and at that moment Min more or less decided that she would stay on for another year.
Chapter 63
Michael’s first interview with one of the members of the Medical Council had been more relaxed than he had expected. This was perhaps because it had been an off-the-record discussion prior to a disciplinary hearing to take place in a few weeks. He hoped that this would give him time to settle back into his old environment and marshall his thoughts. He knew that the outlook was very uncertain. Perhaps his youth would work in his favour; he had not had time to become sufficiently detached from witnessing intense suffering. He had put this to the young woman who did the preliminary interview and she offered the premise that most doctors were affected by suffering and that was the foundation of the hospice movement. At the same time he felt that she was a sympathetic fellow professional who agreed that he had faced an agonising situation. However there was no dilemma because the law was clear and stood as a protection against malfeasance in regard to human life.
Michael had tentatively suggested that his inexperience had been a factor also. He knew that it was possible to administer a lethal drug with the intention of reducing pain but at the same time knowing that death could result. This principle of the double effect amounted to an equivocation in his judgement, and he had been so emotionally distraught that he hadn’t considered this course of action. It was one thing to witness intolerable pain in another human being but if that being was someone you loved it clouded all consequences for oneself.
‘A veterinary surgeon is vouchsafed the right to euthanase suffering animals and I know that most of them find it a difficult thing to do. But we humans, as lords of creation, are not entitled to such humane treatment. And the suffering we endure is possibly of a different order because of the power of the human mind. We have put ourselves beyond deliverance.’ Michael had not expressed these ideas before but they had arisen from his sub-conscious grappling with the moral question.
‘I know that such ideas would not help your cause - if I may caution you. As a theoretical proposition it is interesting but we are discussing an actual event. I suggest you get advice from your lawyer.’ The woman had to maintain the hippocratic oath - the ne plus ultra of medical ethics - and Michael agreed.
‘You must also agree surely that once a situational ethic is permitted in matters of life and death, the lines become blurred and the field is open to uncontrolled abuse.’
Michael had a moment of distraction when he was brusquely smitten by the beautiful honesty in the young woman’s eyes. They bore the weight of sincerity in their gaze which disarmed him and he was in danger of forgetting his thesis; he looked away, as a form of defence, - to realign his thoughts - and in the silence she too had turned her eyes on to the document on the desk in front of her. He was sure that she too had been aware of this fleeting intrusion into their discourse but unswerving professionalism took over and the interview concluded on a note of mutual respect. Michael thanked her warmly and she wished him well with equal warmth.
On the way back to his friend’s house he reflected on the position he was in. He felt torn by his conviction that he had “done no harm” and the knowledge that his action could not be a blueprint for others. Could he be accused of arrogance by putting himself beyond the law? He rejected this proposition on his own behalf.
When he arrived at the apartment he was surprised to find his friend already home from work.
‘I thought you’d be ready for a drink,’ he said as he got up from the couch and went into the kitchen.
‘Do you feel wrung out?’ Michael gave a résumé of the interview and said it was less formidable than he had expected because the interviewer was charming. His friend smiled.
‘That helps,’ he replied as he handed Michael a glass and raised his own in a supportive gesture. As he sat down, Michael found himself wanting to describe the two people he’d encountered on his way.
‘It was strange you know, to find that I had empathy with a prattling old dear who struck me as being incapable of a mean thought. But the taxi driver reminded me that hoi poloi can be as mean as the next person.’
‘You’d forgotten the battlers while you lay around in exotic places.’
‘Honestly I can’t say I ever gave them much thought. My parents and their friends wouldn’t have thought of themselves as battlers - they just did a bit of a line in platitudes.’
They finished their beer and discussed going out for a meal to a local eatery.
‘I think I’ll have a delayed siesta before we tackle the complexities of a local menu. What’s the current culinary must-have?’
‘Sun-dried tomatoes and goat’s cheese. How does that grab you?’
‘It’ll make a change.’
Michael went off in his socks to lie down and let the impressions which were coming at him like a rain squall, seep through his mind. He was beginning to feel better about things as he adjusted to the rhythm of the city but he longed for his privacy which he had become so accustomed to.
‘I think I might have become a bloody bore,’ he muttered as he felt his bones sink into the comfortable bed.
During the meal he had been asked about his time overseas and found that it was difficult to know where to start. His friends there seemed so different from city dwellers. Not that they were not erstwhile urbanites but they seemed to have shed the carapace required for that way of life. He looked around at the other diners noting their chic casual style surrounded by a sort of unfeigned jollity. It was the end of the southern winter and heading into spring, so there was value in generating that physical energy which in the tropics would have enervated him. It would take him quite a while to feel that he belonged in this place once more. He was interrupted by his friend changing the subject.
‘Look old chap I think you’re showing signs of depression. I hope that doesn’t upset you, but I feel concern for your well-being. For reasons I won’t go into, I have had occasion to observe the signs on another occasion.’
Michael was not upset but apologised to his friend for being like
“death’s head at the feast”.
‘I know a good bloke I could recommend - if it’s any help.’
‘I think that would be but I didn’t realise my mood was so obviously out of sync.’
‘As I said, I’m better placed than most to recognise depression and you have been through the mill.’
‘Yeah - it’s so glib to call it a personality defect. The vagaries of the mind are so easily linked to the conscience where guilt lies in wait, ready to rear its head.’
‘Guilt - the universal scourge of the virtuous. The best you can hope for perhaps is a management strategy.’
‘Thanks mate. You’ve hit the nail on the head.’
Chapter 64
To Min’s relief there was no sign of Gerard before the day she had arranged with Yvonne to meet by the pool at the hotel to begin their weekly exchange of English and French conversation. In the meantime she had rationalised the affair with Gerard as a passing fancy designed to check that her libido was in working order and for Gerard as an example of that French institution known as “the other woman”.
Another Throw of The Dice Page 21
