Mrs Caliban and other stories

by Rachel Ingalls

  Broderick swam for about ten minutes, got out of the pool and went up to Carrol. ‘Right,’ he said. She packed up the knitting without a word and left with him. Neill challenged the rest of them to a ping-pong match.

  It was surprising, Lisa thought, how much she was enjoying herself. But after the ping-pong they passed through a hallway that had a window, and she rushed forward to look out. The world was still white, but it was as bright as electric light. The sun was going to burn off the fog quickly.

  ‘We can start soon,’ she said to Jim.

  ‘Well, not right away. We could stay for lunch.’

  ‘As soon as possible.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be very polite.’

  ‘What happened last night wasn’t very polite, either.’

  ‘Let’s not start on that again.’

  ‘OK. Let’s just get out fast.’

  ‘This thing Broderick talked about – it sounds really good. It could make a big difference to us.’

  ‘Jim, for God’s sake,’ she said.

  ‘Just cool it, Lisa. There’s no hurry.’ He pushed forward ahead of her and turned to the right. She leaned back against a green stone statue that held a bowl meant for flowers. She wondered if she had the strength of will to get into the car herself and just drive away on her own.

  He had the keys. It was his car. And he was the invited guest, even if this wasn’t the right house. All the embarrassment would be his to deal with after she’d gone. She couldn’t really do that to him.

  Jeanette met her at a turn in the corridor. ‘Are you staying for the session?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t think so. We’ll be leaving pretty soon. We’ve got to get back to town.’

  ‘That’s too bad. The sessions really help.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Well … just talking. Broderick says that fear – fear itself is a disease. Do you believe that?’

  ‘To a certain extent. Sure.’

  ‘It helps to talk about it.’

  ‘It helps if the thing you’re afraid of goes away. If you can make that happen by talking, I guess that’s good.’

  ‘Of course you can. Because it’s in the mind.’

  ‘The things I’m afraid of,’ Lisa said, ‘are definitely not in the mind. They’re in the world.’

  ‘But if they haven’t happened yet –’

  ‘A little anticipation keeps us all alive. Right?’

  ‘It keeps us frightened.’

  ‘Frightened people are careful. And careful people live longer.’

  ‘Sometimes it isn’t worth it,’ Jeanette said.

  They reached the breakfast room. Steve and Dora were still at the table. Sunlight streamed in through the windows.

  *

  She ran upstairs, got her purse and raced down again. She felt wonderful: the sun was out and at last they could leave.

  Broderick met her at the foot of the stairs. ‘Where to, and so fast?’ he said. He smiled jovially but his eyes gloated at her.

  ‘We’ve really got to get back now,’ she said.

  ‘But Jim said you were staying through lunch.’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  ‘It’s all fixed. He said he’d phone whoever it was you had to meet.’

  ‘It isn’t that simple. Where is he?’

  ‘Out in the garden somewhere, I think. Want me to help you look?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ she said. ‘It’s all right.’

  She stepped out the side door on to a brick terrace. Stairs led down to a garden of white-flowering bushes. Beyond them stood a statue of a woman, one signalling arm raised out of her marble drapery. Neill was sitting on a bench at her side.

  Lisa asked, ‘Have you seen Jim?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘One of those goddesses. Artemis, maybe. Bow and arrow – is that right? I didn’t pay much attention in school. Most of the time I was bored stiff. Couldn’t wait to get out and see the world.’

  ‘I loved it,’ she said.

  ‘Sit down.’

  ‘I just came out to find Jim. We’re leaving.’

  ‘I thought you were staying till Monday. I hoped you were. Don’t go.’

  ‘We really have to,’ she told him, walking away.

  He got up and fell into step beside her. He said, ‘Tonight and tomorrow are the best times. People come from all around. It’s when we hold the séances.’

  ‘Oh, God,’ she said. In the distance Jim was walking towards them. He raised a hand. ‘There he is. I’ll just have a couple of words with him.’ She hurried ahead.

  *

  ‘We’re staying,’ he said.

  ‘Jim, I can’t stand another minute in this place.’

  ‘Every time I turn around, you look like you’re having a great time with that Farley Granger clone.’

  ‘Last night I was nearly raped by four men while you were getting a drink of water.’

  ‘Last night you were completely pie-eyed and suffering from massive wish-fulfilment.’

  ‘Oh Jesus, how can you be so stupid? How –’

  ‘We’re leaving right after dinner, but if it’s too late, then we’ll go in the morning. Whatever happens, we’re definitely staying till the late evening, because Henry Kissinger’s invited.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Ex-Secretary of State, Kissinger, a name you may have seen in the papers?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘He’s coming here for dinner tonight.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Christ. Because he was asked, of course.’

  ‘Well. Well, so what?’

  ‘Look, Lisa: I see nothing wrong about name-dropping, and if I get a chance to sit at the same table with a name like Kissinger, a part of American history, I’m sure as hell not going to miss it. Are you? Isabelle says he tells wonderful stories. Come on, Lisa, are you with me or what?’

  ‘Give me the keys,’ she said.

  ‘Keys?’

  ‘I’ll drive back, and you can get a ride with Henry Kissinger or somebody else.’

  ‘Of course not. It would be unforgivably rude.’

  ‘I don’t believe he’s coming.’

  ‘He is.’

  ‘I’ll make a scene.’

  ‘Hah.’

  ‘I’ll say I recognize him from photographs as the Nazi commandant of a concentration camp. I’ll –’

  ‘Lisa,’ he said, ‘you just shut up and be nice. It’s been a little strange, but you’re going to have to take it. I’ve got an important deal on with Broderick and if you mess things up, believe me you’re going to be sorry, because I won’t stand for it.’

  He’d never spoken to her like that. She felt her whole body, and especially her face, go rigid with fury and desperation. She wheeled around and ran off across the lawn.

  She reached the front drive and slowed down. It wasn’t yet noon, the sun was bright; she could walk through all the country roads until afternoon, and by that time she’d hit the highway and find help. She’d phone the police or the Automobile Association, or a friend from town, to come get her.

  She settled into a regular stride. It wasn’t going to be easy in her party shoes, though they weren’t too high and so far felt comfortable. Her lips moved but she wasn’t actually muttering. She was thinking about all the times he’d been in the wrong and unfair to her – how this was really the limit and it would serve him right.

  She ploughed through a muddy field of deep grass and came out on to the driveway. It took her a lot longer than she’d expected to reach the road. Everything looked different in the daytime. In fact, it all looked beautiful. If the house hadn’t been such a perfect replica of Haunted House Gothic, the setting could equally well have accommodated a fairytale palace. Everywhere she looked there was a superabundance of blossoming hedges, gnarled trees, mossy banks and starry flowers. She began to feel stronger as she went on, despite the shoes: a long walk over stony and uneven ground wasn’t going
to do them any good – she could tell that already. They’d be ruined afterwards for anything but rainy days.

  She hummed a little. She reached the road and stopped, looking from left to right and rubbing her hands. She realized suddenly that she’d been scratching at her hands for a long while, trying to get rid of an itch in the folds between her fingers. She’d made all the itchy spaces bright pink. Red spots like the beginnings of a rash had come up between two of the fingers on her left hand. Nerves, she thought; or possibly a reaction to the peculiar food from the night before.

  She turned to the left. For five minutes she walked without seeing a car or a person. Then ahead, coming towards her from around the next corner, she saw two men: rough-looking, bearded and wearing dungarees. She felt apprehensive straight away. She wanted to turn around and go back. Should she look at them, or past them; say hello, or what? What could she do to make them walk on and not take any notice of her?

  One was short, the other tall. They didn’t look right at her as they went by, but they were fooling. Almost as soon as she’d passed they were back again, one on each side of her, walking in her direction and near enough, if they wanted to, to grab her arms.

  ‘Looking for something, girlie?’ the short one said.

  ‘No thanks, I’m fine,’ she answered in a small, tight, terrified voice that made her even more frightened.

  ‘Well, we’ll just walk along with you a-ways,’ the big one said. ‘Keep you from getting lonely. Just in case something was to happen to a nice little girl like you.’

  She looked up quickly. They were both grinning. Would they just terrorize her, or did they mean to act? Maybe they’d kill her afterwards, so she couldn’t identify them. Maybe they meant to kill her anyway, just for fun. She’d never be able to run fast enough. It was probably better to give in as soon as possible and die quickly. If she were strong, at least she’d be able to hurt them back somehow.

  The little one was beginning to jostle her. They were ready to start; pretty soon his friend would be doing it too. She stepped back and to the side, saying, ‘Well, if nobody’s going to leave me alone today, I might as well go back to my friends. They were right behind me.’ She began to walk back, in the direction of the house.

  They turned and came with her.

  ‘Now isn’t that a shame?’ the tall one said. ‘She doesn’t like our company.’

  ‘That really hurts my feelings,’ the short one told him.

  She was itchy and sore all over now. It was difficult to keep walking.

  ‘You think she meant to be mean like that?’ the small one asked. ‘You think she’s one of those stuck-up bitches that takes it out on you?’

  ‘I think maybe that’s just what she is,’ the big one said. ‘I met plenty like her. I know her type.’

  Her pulse was drumming in her throat and the hairs rising on her arms. Surely it wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen, because she was having such a hard time simply continuing to breathe that long before they started to drag her across the road, she’d have a heart attack. She hoped she’d have one – that everything would just stop all of a sudden and be no more.

  She took her eyes from the surface of the road and looked towards the turning. In front of her, emerging from a thicket of bushes to the left, were two people who waved. ‘There they are,’ she called out, and sprinted ahead. She could run after all. But she stopped when she was a few yards away. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might really know the couple. Now she recognized them: it was Dora and Steve.

  ‘Friends of yours?’ Steve said.

  ‘I never saw them before.’ She turned and looked back. The two men were gone.

  ‘I didn’t think they looked very trustworthy,’ Dora said. ‘This is a lonely road. You’d better come on back with us.’

  ‘So, you’re a friend of nature, too?’ Steve asked. He had a notebook and ballpoint pen in his hand, field-glasses hanging from a strap around his neck. ‘This is wonderful country for it. Best in the world. That’s the other reason we keep coming here.’

  ‘I can’t stay,’ Lisa told him. ‘We were only coming for supper last night, that’s all. I’ve got to get back. For private reasons. And now Jim won’t even let me go by myself. But that’s silly. It isn’t fair. I was trying to walk it.’

  ‘In those shoes?’ Dora said. ‘Oh, dear.’

  ‘You have a car here, don’t you? Could you drive me? Just to a bus stop or a train station?’ She scratched violently at her hands.

  ‘You’ve got that chlorine reaction, too,’ Dora said. ‘I’ve got an ointment I can lend you.’

  ‘I just want to get home,’ Lisa wailed.

  ‘But you wouldn’t want to miss the party. You know who’s going to be here tonight, don’t you?’

  ‘This is important. It’s a family matter. Couldn’t you?’

  ‘All right,’ Steve said. ‘Of course. Right after lunch. Just let us finish the notes first, otherwise we’ll have to start all over again. That’s soon enough, isn’t it – say, just before three? I’d make it earlier, but this is a working weekend as well as pleasure. We’re compiling a book – did I tell you?’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Toads.’

  ‘Dear little things,’ Dora said. ‘And fascinating.’

  ‘You could stay indoors and do all the research you need,’ Lisa said. ‘They’re in the house, too.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘In the upstairs bathroom, in the shower. There was a whole nest, a big pile of them. Last night.’

  ‘Don’t tell me they got out?’ Steve said.

  ‘It must be another batch,’ Dora told him. ‘Ours were fine this morning. I guess you’re lucky they didn’t nip your toes when you were stepping in there. They’re carnivorous, you know.’ She laughed in hearty barks that ended in a whoop of amusement.

  Lisa said, ‘Thanks for telling me.’

  They came in sight of the house. Dora said she’d go get that tube of medicine, and added that she couldn’t believe Lisa was really going to run off and miss the opportunity of meeting Henry Kissinger. They walked around the terrace to the far side, passing as they went a line of large, brand-new and expensive cars parked against the balustrade. Steve said the cars belonged to patients.

  ‘You’d be surprised,’ he told Lisa, ‘how many people consult Broderick and Isabelle. In all walks of life, too: movie stars, politicians, big businessmen – you name it.’

  ‘Kissinger?’

  ‘I think he’s just an ordinary guest.’

  ‘Norman Mailer was here last weekend,’ Dora said. ‘He talked for hours about glands.’

  ‘Hormones,’ her husband corrected.

  ‘And Henry Fonda before that.’

  ‘He’s dead,’ Lisa said.

  ‘Well, maybe it was the other one.’

  ‘Which other one? The son?’

  ‘Gary Cooper. Or was it John Wayne?’

  ‘I think we’re getting all these names a little mixed up,’ Steve explained. He winked at Lisa.

  ‘Anyway,’ Dora said, ‘he was very nice.’

  *

  They had a cold lunch of food that once again, like the breakfast, was good: salads with chicken, ham and beef; fruit and ice cream afterwards. The coffee looked all right too, but Lisa didn’t want to try it.

  Jim wouldn’t look at her. She heard a long account from Dr Benjamin about tree frogs in Africa. He examined her hands and told her there was nothing to worry about: all the redness was simply a result of friction. As she listened, she could see Carrol, only four seats away, scratching and rubbing herself, touching her face all the time.

  She said to the doctor, ‘Steve and Dora are giving me a ride back to town at three, but I’m in kind of a hurry. I’d like to get away sooner than that. Did you come by car?’

  ‘I came with them,’ he told her. ‘And I think Broderick picked the two girls up on his way out from town. Why don’t you ask him? I’m sure he’d run you in.’

  �
��I’d hate to bother him,’ she said. ‘We’ll see.’

  She went upstairs to wait till three. She paced all around the bed, looking carefully at the dark edging of the heavy, brocaded spread. She sat down on top of it, inspected the material and then slowly prepared to curl up. She lowered her head, but she kept her shoes on. She slept for a few minutes, waking up in a rush as soon as she heard someone walking down the hall.

  Jim opened the door, shut it behind him and came over to her. He said, ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘I want to go home. Please, Jim. Remember the food last night?’

  ‘It was fine just now.’

  ‘And the cold, and the smell. Those animals in the shower. And I mean it about what happened when you left. You don’t believe me, but you don’t believe anything from me any more.’

  ‘I’m not staying here for an accusation session.’

  ‘Just let me have the car keys, for God’s sake. What difference is it going to make to you?’

  ‘If you walk out of here, if you’re rude, if you make a scene – it makes me look bad.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t. I act on my own.’

  ‘You’re here with me.’

  ‘I tried to leave. I was going to walk. Look at my shoes. Two guys on the road tried to grab me.’

  ‘Uh-huh. Guys trying to grab you every time you turn around.’

  ‘Just let me get out, Jim. Please.’

  ‘We’re leaving Monday morning.’

  ‘Monday? This is only Saturday.’

  ‘We’ve been invited for the weekend.’

  ‘Well, if this is even the right house, it was only supposed to be supper on Friday. I don’t have a change of underpants or anything. Neither do you.’

  ‘Isabelle says she can let you have whatever you like.’

  ‘What I’d like is to get back to town.’

  They argued back and forth in a normal tone at first, then in whispers, and nearly shouting. He wanted to know how she could be so parochial as to leave just when Henry Kissinger was about to arrive: wasn’t she interested in world politics, in history?

  She said, ‘You don’t believe he’s really coming here, do you? To eat mud soup and old tyres? Him and Norman Mailer and John Wayne and all the rest of them? They just want to get us to stay here, that’s all.’