Mrs Caliban and other stories

by Rachel Ingalls

  Julie did that, Mamie thought.

  *

  Carter was waiting for her in the cocktail lounge. She missed her step as she came up to him and he caught her quickly. She’d forgotten how strong he was; it was like the kind of sudden tackle you might see in a football game. He kissed her cheek.

  ‘That all I get?’ she asked.

  ‘You’ve been drinking. You aren’t supposed to drink, are you?’

  ‘I’m all dried out now. I can have a drink or two.’

  ‘You’ve had so many, you can’t walk straight.’

  ‘Two drinks, that’s all. I’m fine. It’s so fucking dark in here, like all these places. Your favourite word, for my favourite activity. Want to hit me? Want me to say it a little louder?’

  ‘I think we’d better go someplace less public.’

  ‘Fine by me. I’d like a drink first.’

  ‘OK. One.’ He went to the bar and brought her back a gin and tonic. ‘All right?’ he said, as he put the glass down in front of her.

  ‘Sure. Same likes, same dislikes. Here’s to our wonderful future.’

  ‘I thought you were going to bring the baby.’

  ‘To a place like this?’

  ‘I thought we’d go somewhere else. We could have gone to my place.’

  ‘I’m not supposed to be seen there, am I?’

  ‘Drink that up. We’ve got to talk. What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?’

  ‘I’ve been seeing some very interesting photographs.’

  ‘Of me?’

  ‘Maybe. Which ones did you have in mind?’

  ‘Well, I did a lot of crazy things when I was around college age. I even made a porno movie with a few friends.’

  ‘Oh-ho?’

  ‘We were all stoned, but we made a lot of money out of it.’

  ‘Is that a fact? I expect you’re sorry about it now.’

  ‘Of course not. What’s a picture? They could cover the front page with pictures of me doing it with an elephant. I wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘Jesus, I’d die.’

  ‘I still think it’s funny. I think it’s even funnier that some of those guys are busting themselves trying to get the prints back. But you’re right; the girls felt differently. They had a great time going along with everything until later. And then all of them – every single one – started to freak out about it: the idea that somebody they knew might see it. Or that lots of people could see it, who’d never met them, and somebody might spot them on the street or in a store or waiting for an elevator some day and say, “I’ve seen you before, and guess where?”’

  ‘That’s terrible. I think that’s awful, Carter.’

  ‘It had a pretty bad effect on them. I don’t understand it. If they felt that way, why did they join in? What the hell?’

  ‘Maybe after they fell in love and got married, they could be afraid of being blackmailed. They wouldn’t want their husbands to know. You don’t want people you love to know things about you that aren’t nice.’

  He threw down the book of matches he’d been playing with. All the matches were splayed and ripped; the cover was almost shredded. She couldn’t make out his expression, even though her eyes had adjusted to the dim light. It might have been the look of a man who blackmailed women.

  ‘Let’s go to my place,’ he said.

  It was the first time they’d been together since shortly after her marriage. He told her she was more beautiful than before the baby; she was more fun. They went out once for a meal and came back again. She stayed most of the night. She could have stayed right through till morning and for the whole of the day, but she needed alibis just in case: the hotel bills, the theatre ticket stubs, and so on. As he walked her up to the hotel doorway, he said, ‘Better than the photographs?’

  ‘They weren’t of you. They were of your cousin, Julie. The one who looks just like me, remember?’

  ‘Here,’ he said, touching the side of her face. ‘That’s what I saw. It seems a lot less pronounced now that I know you.’

  ‘Come on, Carter. We’re as different as black and white.’

  ‘Black and white can look very similar. I told you: resemblance doesn’t depend on that. Especially in a photograph.’

  ‘Funny how you thought it had to be pictures of you.’

  ‘It’s probably just as well I told you. Things like that have a habit of popping up when you don’t expect them. The horselaugh out of the past.’

  ‘I brought you some pictures, too,’ she said. ‘I’ll show you tomorrow.’

  The next day, when they were in bed together, she reached over to the night-table for her handbag, opened it and brought out a large envelope full of photographs of the baby. She began to hand them to him one by one.

  ‘Nice,’ he told her. ‘Look at us. All three of us here, and not a stitch on. Next time you come, bring him with you. I’m tired of being so careful.’

  ‘It isn’t worth taking the chance. You know what could happen legally.’

  ‘Did they tell you where you’re going on the vacation?’

  ‘Some tiny little place in Switzerland. Or maybe it was Austria.’ She told him the name.

  ‘That’s the same place,’ he said. ‘It’s where they pushed her over the side.’

  ‘No, it isn’t. The name under the photographs is different.’

  ‘It’s the same area, right down the valley.’

  ‘But not the same place. Not the same village. Is it?’

  ‘Not exactly. It’s right near it.’

  ‘But not the same. That’s what you said at first, wasn’t it?’

  ‘It doesn’t sound good to me. Maybe the bank is on the rocks again, or Russell’s in debt. You’re insured right up to your ears.’

  ‘So is he. It’s the usual thing.’

  ‘Who does your will leave everything to?’

  ‘The new one leaves it to Bobby. Russell gets the interest till he’s grown up.’

  ‘And if Bobby dies?’

  ‘Bobby?’

  ‘Babies can get sick and die before you even realize anything’s wrong. We should have gone through all this before.’

  ‘But we did. We’ve been over and over everything. It goes to Russell. How could I leave it to you? I couldn’t.’

  ‘You could go to another lawyer and make a second will. And that’s what I think you’d better do.’

  *

  She got out of bed and began to put on her clothes. She went into the bathroom, then to the kitchen. Carter came in after her and handed her a coffee-cup. He poured out some coffee for her, and some for himself.

  He said, ‘That’s a horrible dress.’

  ‘Russell likes it. He chose it himself. It’s better than just that towel.’ She started to get annoyed. She said, ‘Want to hear what else he likes?’

  ‘I think maybe it should have something spilled on it.’

  All at once she was furious. She turned around, put her cup down on the edge of the sink and said that before the baby was born she gave Russell excuses for not making love, but that afterwards they’d started to, the way they should have from the beginning, and now they were like any other married couple: they did it all the time; and it was so good with him – yes, honestly – because he was affectionate and made her feel happy.

  Carter laughed. He sat down at the table.

  She said, ‘I’ll call you up when we get back from skiing.’

  ‘I’ll be reading the obituary columns, looking for Russell.’

  ‘Let’s drop it. Please. You’re wearing me out.’

  ‘No stamina. You were ready to go through with it.’

  ‘I was never ready to kill anybody. Never. I can’t even remember why you told me I had to get married to him. It’s always one story on top of another.’

  He said, ‘If you don’t, he’ll get you for the insurance money.’

  She didn’t believe it. She started to pace up and down. She said, ‘We’re always talking about killing. It’s driving me nuts.
’

  ‘If you’re the one that does it, they won’t suspect anything.’

  ‘I don’t have to do a thing. No. I can do just nothing and I can have you both. You can tell him what you like. I’ll say you’re trying to blackmail me. I’ll start doing what you do. I don’t care. You can go to hell.’

  He put his elbows on the table, his hands over his ears, and moaned.

  She heard herself panting in the stillness. He looked terrible. He started to whisper to himself, ‘They always said it would happen to me. My mother used to warn me: You’ll end up like your father.’

  ‘What happened to your father?’ They were both whispering now.

  ‘One day he just snapped. He killed seven people with an axe.’

  Her heartbeat gave a thump and rushed upwards. She came forward slowly. She put her arms around him. ‘It’s all right,’ she said gently.

  He lifted his face, took his elbows off the table and suddenly pulled her down into the chair with him. ‘You fell for it?’ he asked. He picked up his cup and said, ‘This is cold.’ He poured coffee all over her dress.

  They rolled on to the floor, fighting and laughing. He started to tickle her. He got her to unsay everything she’d claimed about her married life, to tell him she couldn’t live without him, to say she never stopped thinking about him, and to tell him she wanted more.

  ‘You’re so mean to me,’ she sighed. ‘Honest to God.’

  He said, ‘I’m not mean. I’m just violent. I thought you liked it.’

  *

  ‘We’ve got everything we want,’ she told him. ‘We had everything all along – enough money, too. Lots of people in the world don’t even get enough to eat every day.’

  ‘The hell with them. They should get up off their knees and start hitting back. They deserve all they get.’

  ‘I should never have married him.’

  ‘Fur coats, diamonds? What’s that ring you’ve got on right now? And that car you told me about?’

  ‘I can get by without any of it. Nothing wrong with buses. I can take the subway. I can walk. All I want is you and Bobby.’

  ‘We wouldn’t even be able to afford the bus after a while. I’m leaving my job.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’m not going to need it any more.’

  ‘You see? None of it makes sense. If you were really planning to do anything, that would look bad.’

  ‘I can’t help it. I can’t take it any more.’

  ‘And another thing: they all talk about an accident, but if she just fell, how come you got a suicide note?’

  ‘I’ve never understood that. All I can think of is that they’d planned to do it a little later in some other way that wasn’t going to look so natural. I just don’t know.’

  He waited in the car outside her hotel and then drove her to the airport. They sat in the parking lot until it was time. ‘Remember,’ he said. ‘Let me know what happens. At the number I gave you.’

  ‘I’ll try. I get so mixed up about all the special words.’

  ‘Just keep calm: don’t get flustered. I’m going to have to know everything now. I’ll be coming with you.’

  ‘I’m not doing it. I told you. And you aren’t, either.’

  ‘I’m just going, to try to keep you alive. Even if you start out assuming they didn’t do it, why would they want to go back there? Why would innocent people act like that?’

  She promised to tell him everything. They kissed goodbye. Then she said, ‘You never did tell me about your father, or the rest of your family.’

  ‘Some other time.’

  ‘We’ve still got a few minutes.’

  ‘Would it surprise you very much to know that Waverley Chase is my father? My real father?’

  ‘Yes, it would. Is he?’

  ‘Maybe.’ He kissed her again.

  ‘Carter,’ she said, ‘I can’t put up with any more of this fooling.’

  He opened the door, got out, and started to walk around to her side. She was out of the car before he came up to her.

  ‘Is he?’ she asked.

  ‘You think about it on the way back.’

  ‘Tell me now, Carter, or I’m going to let that plane go without me.’

  ‘OK, OK. As far as I know, that whiskey-sodden old windbag could only be the father of those three jerks you’re living with. Satisfied?’

  ‘Was there something wrong with your father?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you won’t tell me about him.’

  ‘Nothing to tell, about either of them. Just ordinary people.’

  ‘But you aren’t ordinary.’

  ‘I was adopted.’

  They reached the departure lounge before she turned to him and said, ‘Then Julie wasn’t your real cousin?’

  ‘She was adopted, too.’

  ‘I don’t believe it.’

  He laughed.

  ‘Are you adopted?’ she hissed at him. ‘I’m not getting on the plane until you tell me. Are you?’

  ‘We are boarding at this time,’ a stewardess said almost in her ear. She backed towards the exit, still asking, ‘Are you?’

  He shook his head.

  She wanted to sleep on the flight, but couldn’t. She kept thinking about heredity and everything she’d read in the books and magazines. Such a sweet baby, always laughing, couldn’t have inherited anything bad. But Carter laughed a lot, too. And maybe his father had been laughing when he’d had the axe in his hand; except – there hadn’t been any axe. It was made up. She was so confused that each time she thought she’d figured something out, she had to accept a new contradiction. A few days later, she thought: If Carter kept telling her Julie was his favourite cousin, that must mean he had more than one. Who were the other ones?

  The only person she could think of asking was her husband. She told him that when she’d been in town seeing her friends backstage, she’d heard about another girl, who was going around with Carter and wasn’t very happy.

  ‘What do you know about him?’ she asked.

  ‘Not as much as you,’ he said. ‘You were going out with him. In fact, you were sleeping with him, weren’t you?’

  His tone was light but nasty. She hadn’t expected that he’d give the affair a thought. She said penitently, ‘Just at the beginning, yes. It was before I met you. And anyway, I never knew where I was with him. That’s why I want to find out. He was always so secretive about himself.’

  ‘I can tell you what he was like in school and college: in on every scheme you could name, even some that were a little risky. And getting away with everything. And a big reputation with the girls, which you know about.’

  ‘He kept talking about his cousin all the time. About Julie. He said she was his favourite cousin. I just wondered – who were the others? His other cousins.’

  ‘Oh. That’s us. Didn’t he tell you? We’re cousins, too. What did he say when he brought you here?’

  ‘That Waverley and Katherine had been his parents’ best friends. Why would he lie?’

  ‘Why would he do anything? That’s the way he is. None of us liked him. Since we’ve grown up, we haven’t seen much of him. Once a year, maybe, or less.’

  ‘So it was a big surprise when he showed up with me that time?’

  ‘He wanted to talk with Father about his shares in the bank.’

  ‘Carter’s shares?’

  ‘That kind of thing. We don’t see him for just family feeling. My parents don’t mind him. And you thought he was all right.’

  ‘I still think so, but I never got the feeling I really knew him.’

  ‘Sometimes it’s hard to tell with people,’ he said. ‘They put on an act.’

  ‘You mean me?’

  ‘Of course not. With you, I can always tell.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Always,’ he said.

  *

  She’d never been to another country. She didn’t like the idea. Katherine, who delighted in travelling and holidays,
was considerate to her and patted her arm as they sat in the airport bar. ‘You’ll love it when we get there,’ she said. ‘I know you will. Just relax and have a good time.’

  Waverley bought her a good stiff drink. He had one himself. She became sentimental and frightened when she thought about leaving Bobby. She whimpered into her drink, ‘I don’t think it’s right for such a little baby to be away from its mother for such a long time.’

  ‘Oh, you can count on Evie,’ Katherine told her. ‘She’s got all the right references. She’ll have him in a fixed routine before you know it. When we get back, you’ll find him doing everything like clockwork. All our friends say she’s a marvel at discipline.’

  She couldn’t say what she thought. The moment the brisk and self-important Evie had marched across the threshold, Mamie had detested her. There was nothing she could do about it. The choice wasn’t hers; perhaps it never would be. She wouldn’t have known how to go about hiring someone, or which nurse to pick. She wouldn’t have wanted to choose anyone in the first place.

  They stepped into the plane, buckled themselves in, took off. They were on a night flight. She hugged the airline pillow to her. She hated the plane, she hated Russell. She hated everything and she couldn’t sleep.

  *

  ‘Isn’t this better?’ Katherine asked.

  Mamie looked around at the blue sky, the white snowfields, the tiny villages down below. The world was bright and sparkling. ‘It’s all like toys,’ she said.

  They were escorted into their hotel. Uniformed bellboys carried their bags, opened the doors. She hadn’t imagined the mountains would be equipped with anything so luxurious. She’d had a vague picture in her mind of a lot of people in leather shorts.

  Carter was staying in the neighbouring valley. They were to meet the next day. She had the excuse of not knowing how to ski, so she was going to be down at the beginners’ practice area, taking lessons while the others were out on the higher slopes or travelling up and down by the chair lifts and the cable-car.