‘Well, Mother, I can tell you that whatever it is, you won’t get to know.’
‘No? Well, that’s up to you. But remember the old adage, actions speak louder than words. So now, lad, if you can bear to touch me, you can give me a heave out of this chair and then leave me to myself; I can manage.’
He heaved her up from the chair. Then, when she independently pulled her arm from his hold, she said again, ‘I can manage. Give me fifteen minutes; that’s if you wish to come and say good night.’
She hobbled on her sticks across the room to the door, and he had not rushed to open it for her as he usually did, but watched her transfer the right-hand walking stick to the left hand and lean on the two before she pulled the door open. But as she made to go out she turned her head over her shoulder and said, ‘Thank you very much, Doctor, for your help’ – there was a smile on her face now – ‘and, speaking of medicine, as you do most of the day, I would advise you now to take a dose in the form of a double whiskey, neat.’
He stood stiffly, his head bowed. Then he turned about and dropped into the chair he had recently vacated and, leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and he could hear her saying, ‘When he goes, I go, too, far away, miles away across oceans.’ And he knew this is what she meant to do.
He had heard them laughing about Dashing Daisy. She was apparently one of the few visitors who had no fear of visiting a man dying of tuberculosis. She was the widow of a District Commissioner from Africa, who, he understood, had caused her husband more trouble than any rebel chieftain or witch-doctor.
John had never met her, but now he was about to have the experience. He learned from Johnson, who had met him in the hall, that Lady Helen and the young couple had left at six o’clock, and that Mrs Freeman Wheatland had called and was with Sir Leonard in the drawing-room.
In the drawing room, the woman sitting near the bamboo chaise longue twisted her body round towards him as Leonard said, ‘Oh, hello there, John. By the way, this is Mrs Freeman Wheatland,’ but before John could acknowledge the introduction the lady cried loudly in a rough-toned voice, ‘Don’t be two-faced, Leonard. Tell him what you usually call me, behind my back, of course. Dashing Daisy May, that’s what he calls me, Dashing Daisy May. I was stupid enough to tell him that’s what Tommy used to call me. He . . . he was my husband. Sit down!’ Her command was imperious.
John looked at Leonard. Leonard’s face was stretched with laughter; his own, he knew, was full of amazement. He sat down and looked at the visitor . . . Dashing Daisy. Yes, the title seemed to suit her. He could imagine her sitting on a horse going hell for leather over the fells. She was a gaunt woman, probably sixty. She was big-made, all bone; as his mother would say, no meat on her; all gristle. Her face looked fleshless, yet pixiefied. Yes, that was the word, pixiefied. An odd name to put to her looks because, taken over all, she was ugly. She had very long fingers which looked absolutely fleshless; and then there was her body: her shoulders looked broad, and likely, when she stood up, he would find she was tall, because there seemed a good length of leg under her long skirt, at least from her knees down to the caps of her sturdy brogues.
She startled him somewhat by saying, ‘I’ve heard all about you, you know, and not only from him,’ she nodded towards Leonard, ‘but down in the town. They have their censors, you know. There’s more for you than against you. How do you put up with old Cornwallis? There’s an old shyster if ever there was one. You know, he’s got that bad leg of his insured to make sure it doesn’t get better.’
‘Daisy!’
‘Yes, Leonard, dear?’
‘Give him a chance.’
Her head back and her mouth wide open, she let out a roar of a laugh. He noticed, as far as he could see, that she had all her teeth but that some were very discoloured.
She now turned her round bright eyes towards him, saying, ‘My nanny used to say to me when I wouldn’t eat my oats, “If you don’t like it you can lump it. You’ll go to it before it’ll come to you.”‘
He was smiling as he returned her gaze. If you didn’t like it you could lump it. That was plain enough. He turned now to look at Leonard, who had his head back into the cushion of the chair-bed. His eyes were closed and his teeth could be seen nipping at his lower lip.
‘Have you ever been in Africa?’
‘What?’ The question almost swung John round in the chair, and he repeated, ‘Africa? No. No, I’ve never been to Africa.’
‘Well, in my opinion you haven’t missed much. I lost all my flesh there, you know. I used to be round and plump. You wouldn’t believe that, would you?’
He did not know whether to say, ‘Oh, yes,’ or ‘Oh, no.’
They both turned to Leonard now, who still had his eyes closed but was saying, ‘Tell him, Daisy, about the disinfectant bath.’
‘Oh, go on with you. Why should I entertain your guest and him a doctor?’ She turned a quick glance on John now, saying, ‘I never had much room for doctors. Witch-doctors can beat them any day in the week.’
‘I have no doubt of that.’
‘Go on, Daisy, tell him about the bath,’ repeated Leonard.
‘Why? You’ve heard it all before.’
‘I’d like to hear it again.’
John was watching her face. Her eyes were on Leonard now, and he noticed a softness, like a pale cloud, pass over her dry and wrinkled skin. And she blinked her round bright eyes for a moment before, returning to her former manner, she said, ‘Well, you’ve asked for it.’ Then turning to John again, she said, ‘I don’t know whether you want to hear this or not. But it should happen that at one time I was a spanking lass. That’s what they would have called me up here, a spanking lass. Can you believe that?’
‘Oh yes. Yes.’ He had not hesitated with this reply, and repeated, ‘Yes, I could imagine you being a spanking lass.’
As she looked at him now there was cynicism in her eyes as she said, ‘Huh! The Colonial Office weren’t alone in breeding their diplomats. Anyway, there I was being quite happy as the sixth daughter not counting the four older brothers of a very busy father and I was the only one unmarried. But I was in love with a horse, so it didn’t matter . . .’
When Leonard made a coughing sound in his throat, she stopped for a moment to glance at him, then went on, ‘Then to my mother’s dismay and my father’s joy there rode into my life one Thomas Freeman Wheatland, who was on leave from Africa. Apparently he had gone out as Assistant Commissioner, and when his superior retired, he got the job. He was a good age, but that didn’t matter, he liked horses, and he asked me to go to Africa with him. It was a toss-up between Brutus and him. Brutus was my horse. I’d had him since he was a foal. As for Africa, I knew it was on the map somewhere and that it was hot, and that there was a lot of sand, and it was full of camels and sheiks and dung and flies and some such. Anyway, I found myself married, and all I remember of my wedding day was that my father got mortallious, or nearly so, even before the ceremony, with relief at getting rid of me, and when I woke up the next morning on a boat in the middle of some ocean I knew I didn’t like marriage, and to make matters worse, I was seasick.’
As John watched Leonard press his hand across his mouth, he wanted to do the same. His eyes were wet, his lips were tight pressed; that was until the next moment when she said, ‘You’ve likely dealt with drunks, Doctor, including ones that have been in a brawl. And I’m sure the expression “being kicked in the guts” isn’t new to you. But that’s what Africa did to me, right in the guts. And it was some time before I could straighten up, metaphorically speaking, that is.’
He did not see her put her hand on her stomach, for he was wiping his eyes with his handkerchief, and when he muttered, ‘Oh, Mrs Wheatland,’ she responded with, ‘Call me Daisy; I like that better.’
He did not call her Daisy, but Leonard was saying, ‘Go on, Daisy.
Go on.’
She turned to John again, and, her voice serious, she said, ‘Can you imagine being dropped into the middle of a forest? No path, nothing, and just left there day after day. Not that the house wasn’t comfortable, and the clearing roundabout good, and there were roads and paths leading off to this tribe and that tribe. But inside my mind I was in a forest and, at times, was frightened to death. Especially when Tommy had to go on these treks and I was left alone there. Oh, there were servants galore. Oh, yes. But only one could speak a smattering of English. Sometimes we had visitors, but what did they do? They sat on the verandah and drank, and talked about this head man, or that witch-doctor. That was when I was there. But I’ve good hearing, and when I was supposedly out of the way, bits of scandal would emerge; this one had left her husband, or a certain lady was being visited by so-and-so. I didn’t know then that the certain lady being visited by so-and-so was the woman that Tommy had wanted to marry. But she had turned him down, and to ease his lacerated feelings he had taken leave and come to England and found a girl who was going cheap from the dregs at the bottom of the barrel.’
‘Oh, no! no!’ Leonard had pulled himself up a little in the chair now, and he said again, ‘No, no; never think that of yourself, Daisy. That isn’t your character.’
‘You know nothing about it, Leonard. You’ve never reached desperation point and been number ten and nobody wanted you. Anyway’ – her voice was loud now as she turned back to John – ‘everybody has to go through an apprenticeship in life. And those first few months were my apprenticeship. And then I met the man from the leper colony.’
She nodded now at John, repeating, ‘Leper colony. I’d never heard of it, never heard anybody speak of it. Well, would I now? Would I hear such a thing from the few people I had conversation with? The word leper was taboo.
‘I had gone beyond the compound. I was out walking. It was a sort of main road and there, coming towards me, was this man who looked like a down-and-out priest: he wore a flat hat and a long black gown. But I’m not being sentimental or ridiculous when I say he had the face of an angel. And he was an angel. When he introduced himself as Doctor Frank La-Mode, he laughed and swept his hand down his gown and said that it was hardly a recommendation for his name. That was our first meeting. He seemed to know who I was. Over the course of the next few weeks I met him on that road three times. He always had two carriers with him and they always seemed loaded down with parcels and boxes.
‘Then one night I said to Tommy, “Do you know Doctor Frank La-Mode?” The name made him sit up straight in his chair, and he said, “What do you know about Frank La-Mode?”
‘“Nothing, only that I’ve met him two or three times.” And this made him jump to his feet, demanding, “You didn’t go there?”
‘“Go where?” I asked. “The leper colony, of course” was his reply.’
John watched her sit back in the chair, and when she didn’t speak for a moment, he whispered, ‘A leper colony?’
Now she turned her head towards him and, nodding, repeated, ‘A leper colony. My husband, Tommy, was a phlegmatic kind of man. Perhaps it was the lack of passion or any kind of real emotion that had lost him his true love. But at that moment I was confronted with another Tommy, who was actually yelling that I must not go near that man, and I must not go near the leper colony.
‘I remember thinking, where is the leper colony, anyway? So vehement was he and so altered was his whole personality as he went for me that I realised he was afraid of the leper colony. He was afraid of leprosy. And that did something to me. As for me, I thought, I’m not afraid of the leper colony or lepers.’ She pouted her lips now and smiled a sad smile before she went on, ‘Oh I knew nothing about lepers, except that they were untouchable people, and once you had leprosy it was a death warrant and you were hidden away somewhere. Yet, there was that man, Frank La-Mode, looking so serene and peaceful. Yes, that was the word, peaceful. And the person I had to live with never looked peaceful, nor did any of his acquaintances. They drank too much to be peaceful. When he yelled, “Do you hear me? Do not speak to that man again, and not on your life, go to that colony. Do you hear me?” . . .’ and now she looked towards Leonard, saying, ‘I can still hear him yelling at me, Leonard, no matter how many times I relate it. And the more he yelled the more defiant I became inside.’ Her head was back against the cushion now, her eyes turned ceilingwards, as she continued, ‘It was a fortnight later when I met Frank again, and I said to him straight away, “I would like to visit the colony, your colony.” And he said, “Oh, dear me! Have you your husband’s permission?”
‘And I said, “No; but I mean to go there and see for myself, with or without permission.” And after a while he muttered, “Very well. Can you come now?”
‘“Yes,” I said; “I have nothing else to do.”‘ She now brought herself upright in the chair and, looking at John, she said, ‘It was a very strange journey. The main road seemed to peter out into a forest and we walked and walked. I don’t know for how long. It was a narrow track and wouldn’t take two abreast. And then, there were the wooden palisades. It was like I had imagined a fort in the Americas, you know, to keep the Indians out. My first introduction to leprosy was when the gate was opened by a man who had one finger on his hand, the rest resembling a bundle of knots. And then we were passing through little groups and everybody who could seemed to be busy, that is, those with hands. And then there were those who shambled towards Frank, their twisted faces alight with love.
‘His house was made of bamboo with a number of rooms. And then there was the surgery, and in it I met two women, English women. I couldn’t believe it. One of them was big and robust, and the other had marks on her hands and arms. But the expression on both their faces was the reflection of that in Frank’s. Well, I won’t go into any more, except that I stayed there until my emotions told me I had to get away else I would shame myself. Frank, himself, saw me to the edge of the forest and onto the main road again. And there I was met by three of the servants. They wouldn’t come near me, but they dashed away along the road to inform their master that a leper was approaching, because that’s how they now looked upon me.
‘Tommy was waiting for me in the middle of the compound and he was so full of emotion and rage that he spluttered; then he ordered me into the bath house, and I said to him, “Why the bath house?” Such was his rage he forgot himself and spoke in the vernacular, yelling, “Get in there and strip off!” Not undress, strip off.’
Now she put her hand up to her face and began to laugh.
‘“Why?” I asked him. “Because you’re going to take a bath,” he said.
‘“Oh, is that all?” So away I went into the bath house and I stripped off, but when I put my hand into the water and it stung – I don’t know exactly what was in it, but something besides carbolic – but there I was standing in my bare pelt when he came to the door and the very sight of me like that caused him to close his eyes. It did. It did.’ Her head was bobbing now. ‘Then he ordered me to get into the bath.
‘“Not on your life,” I said. “That isn’t only carbolic. I don’t know what you’ve put in it, but I’m not getting into that.”
‘I went to grab my clothes, but he was there before me. He didn’t touch them, though; he had a stick in his hand with which he whipped them aside. Then what d’you think he did? He started to poke me with the stick.’ She stopped and covered her face with her hand for a moment before she said, ‘I can laugh at it even now: that dignified, pompous individual, poking me with a stick. But it had an effect when he poked me in a certain place and I lost my footing and over I went with a terrible scream. But I didn’t go under, only waist-high, and there he was, standing above me, yelling at me, “Duck your head! Duck your head!” I did not duck my head, and I wasn’t going to duck my head, but instead I thrust out my hands, and you can see they are quite large hands, and they were always very s
trong. Horses don’t only strengthen your buttocks but they have the same effect on your hands and your arms, too, so when my hands gripped his trouser tops and pulled at them, which action must have been painful to certain parts of his anatomy, he lost his footing and the next minute there he was in the bath, fully clothed and face down.’
Her mouth now opened in a gape as she drew in a long breath before she went on, ‘I . . . I was stinging and burning in every pore. I started to laugh and when I pulled myself from under him, he, struggling in the slimy water, went down again. And then I was out and within seconds he was out, too.’ Her head was again back and when she spluttered, ‘No swain could have thrown off his clothes quicker to get to his bride than did Thomas Freeman Wheatland that night.’
John roared, and Leonard held his ribs tightly and the tears, ran down his face before he could entreat her, ‘Please! Please, Daisy!’
‘Oh. Oh, I’m sorry, Leonard.’
John was on his feet now, his face still awash with tears, his mouth wide, and leaning over Leonard, saying, ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes. Yes,’ Leonard gasped; ‘just give me a tablet,’ and he pointed towards the side table.
A minute later, seeing the concern in Daisy’s face, he said, ‘It’s all right, Daisy. You’re . . . you’re a marvel. But now tell John the rest. That’ll quieten us down.’
‘Sure you’re all right?’ said John. ‘Shall I call Johnson?’
‘No. No. A laugh like that is the best medicine in the world. You should know that, a doctor.’ He turned to look at the big, gaunt face again and said, ‘Go on, Daisy. Finish it.’
Sitting back in the chair, Daisy put her forearm under what must have been her withered breasts and heaved them upwards slightly before, looking at John, she said, ‘The following day there was a letter on my breakfast tray. It was to the effect that if I wished to remain his wife and not be sent home in disgrace, or words to that effect, then I must promise to obey him, in all ways – oh yes, he added those words, in all ways – but mostly I must promise never to go near the leper colony or to speak with Frank La-Mode again. He ended by saying that he would be up country for the next four days and that, he would expect my answer on his return.’
The Obsession Page 20
