‘Here in the lupanar,’ Antonius began, ‘do you think I treat you well? Cassius – what do you think?’
‘Very well, master,’ said Cassius.
Birkita glanced up. Cassius was clearly glad to be on Antonius’ side of this exchange. Cassius looked at each of the girls, just as Antonius had done. Antonius continued.
‘You have a place to live, good food, you get to sleep a lot of the day, you have clothes, there is wine. What do you think, Albinus? Are all these things true? ‘
‘They’re true, master,’ said Albinus uncertainly, evidently unsure of where this was leading.
‘But whether you are slaves or freemen, our world is a world where there must be give and take. Nothing is for free. And so in return for a place to live and the food and the sleeping and the clothes and the wine, I ask you to do some things for me. And so,’ said Antonius, smiling very unpleasantly, ‘we have a contract.’
‘I have to say that I think your side of the contract is not all that difficult. I have to find the money to provide all these things for you and in return ... well, some days you have little or nothing to do. You spend a lot of time on your back –’
At this Cassius snorted with laughter. Antonius turned and glared at him.
‘In short, I think it is a fair contract. In fact, if anything, I think I have the harder side of the bargain. What would you say, Flavia? Is it a fair contract?’
‘It’s a fair contract,’ said Flavia dully.
Birkita noticed Flavia for the first time. She looked very pale and clasped her hands together in front of her. And she had a black eye that Birkita only noticed now that Flavia had moved her head.
‘It’s more than fair, master,’ chimed in Cassius, trying to make up for his snort of laughter earlier.
‘More than fair. Do you hear that from one of your own? It’s “more than fair”, he says. Now of course, if somebody were to break that contract, that wouldn’t be good, would it? Would it, Cassius?’
‘No, master.’
‘If I were to stop feeding you or throw you out on the street or take away your fine clothes, I would be breaking the contract. Isn’t that true?’
It’s not clear whether Antonius intends the question to be rhetorical but nobody replies anyway.
‘But you could also break the contract,’ he goes on.
Birkita glanced across at Bakt who was looking intensely bored as though all she wanted to do was to get this over with and go back to bed.
‘How could somebody break the contract, Flavia?’
‘If they tried to leave.’
Flavia said the words so softly that they were hardly audible. Birkita tightened her grip on the dagger. She would plunge it into her heart. She knew there would be terrible pain. But it would be over in a few heartbeats. And then there would be nothing.
‘If they tried to leave,’ Antonius repeated. ‘If they tried to leave.’
He paused as though considering this.
‘But somebody could stay here and still break the contract, couldn’t they?’
The question wasn’t directed at anybody. It was as though he were talking to himself, thinking out loud. The effect was like an actor on a stage. In all the time she had been here, Birkita had never heard him say so much.
‘If somebody didn’t put their back into the work they had to do. If somebody didn’t do an honest day’s work, that would be breaking the contract too. Wouldn’t it, Flavia?’
Birkita sensed a change in direction. Where was this leading? Had Flavia done something?
‘They would,’ said Flavia, becoming more and more mouse-like. Birkita had never seen her like this.
‘Somebody here has broken the contract,’ Antonius announced.
What had Flavia done?
‘Somebody here is not putting their back into the work. And we have tried to fix this problem, haven’t we, Flavia?’
‘We have.’
Flavia’s voice was little more than a croak.
‘But I’m sorry to say it hasn’t worked. So now we have to find new work for that person to do. Let me introduce you to Domitia.’
With a careless wave of his hand, Antonius indicated the new girl. She was tall and very thin. She had large breasts and long red hair that tumbled down to her waist. Her face was plain enough but Birkita could see how men would like the long body, the breasts, the red hair. Domitia stood, hands clasped looking down at the floor.
‘Domitia wants to become part of our contract, don’t you, Domitia?’
Domitia acted as though she hadn’t heard. Birkita realised she couldn’t speak the Roman tongue. Antonius glanced at her, irritated that she hadn’t responded and that it had spoiled a piece of his performance. He continued.
‘But as you know, we only have space for five here and so if Domitia is to come, somebody has to go.’
Suddenly there was an anguished cry. Birkita glanced across at Claudia. Her face, which had been dull and expressionless for as long as Birkita had known her, had suddenly come to life. It showed fear. It was as though she had just woken up or come out of a trance. She looked around like a cornered animal. But Cassius was already moving from his place near the door. Claudia tried to move away from him, to push her way through the other girls, but there was no space in the cramped hallway. Anyway, Cassius moved with surprising speed and had reached her and taken her upper arm in his hand the size of a ham.
‘No,’ Claudia said. ‘No.’
Antonius smiled again, scanning their faces.
‘Yes, I’m afraid Claudia is going to take up a new line of work. Something to which she might be more suited. Something that, whether she likes it or not, she’ll be forced to put her back into.’
‘No! Please, master! No!’
‘Shut up, bitch!’ said Cassius, turning to Claudia and slapping her hard across the face. The blow drew blood from her lip.
‘Next week there will be a Games,’ Antonius went on.
He was like an actor coming to the climax of his performance. ‘My friend Sextus who organises the gladiatorial contests –’
‘No, master – please!’ Claudia interrupted again.
‘Shut the fuck up,’ Cassius said, slapping her twice, back and forth. Her nose started to bleed and she began to cry.
‘My friend Sextus has decided it’s time for something new. So he’s putting together a team of women gladiators.’
Claudia’s eyes widened in horror. All the other girls looked appalled.
‘They’re training even as we speak,’ said Antonius. ‘Claudia will be joining them. And Sextus has told me that he’ll be making sure she puts her back into it.’
Antonius made an upward nod of his head and Cassius dragged Claudia towards the door. Her legs seemed to go from under her but it didn’t make much difference to Cassius.
‘Get the door, Crispus,’ he said and then both men, with Claudia between them, disappeared out the door and into the street.
Antonius looked at them each again in turn. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and went out.
Birkita and the other girls looked at Flavia. Nobody spoke. Birkita fingered the knife, praying that it wouldn’t fall out of her hand. Relief flooded into her like sunlight suddenly appearing from behind a cloud. Whatever else had happened, Flavia hadn’t told on her.
Then Flavia said, ‘Birkita – you take the big room that Claudia used to have. Domitia will take yours.’
She clapped her hands.
‘Come on now. Hurry. I want it all done before we open.’
Flavia took a step or two and Birkita noticed that she seemed to be limping and wincing when she moved.
The new cubicle was slightly bigger than Birkita’s old one. She retrieved the money she had saved from its hiding place and put it in her chest. It would have to do for now until she had time to find or make a more secure place.
Flavia never came near her, instead spending most of the day with Domitia. The day turned out to be one of the
busiest they had had and Birkita was exhausted when she finally, painfully was able to fall into bed. She immediately fell into a deep sleep. Some time later she became aware of a hand shaking her by the shoulder. With some difficulty she rose from the depths where she had been sleeping.
‘Shhh,’ a voice said.
Birkita opened her eyes to yellow light.
It was Flavia, with a candle in one hand.
‘Come,’ she whispered. ‘Upstairs.’
Groggily, Birkita pulled herself from the bed and followed Flavia.
She’s moving like an old woman.
In the upstairs room, as Birkita closed the door behind her, Flavia set down the candleholder on the small table beside the bed. Then she turned to face Birkita and shrugged off the loose gown she was wearing. Birkita gasped.
In the soft candlelight, there were red stripes right across Flavia’s breasts and belly and thighs. The weals looked like they had been done with a cane. Slowly she turned around to show the same on her back.
‘Antonius,’ she said, turning back again to look at Birkita.
‘Why ... What happened?’
‘That’s just the way he is. Oh, he’s never been warm or friendly. But he is usually business-like. Sometimes even polite. But then out of nowhere – this.’
She spread her hands wide as if to display her body.
‘Then he is like an animal. And I never know what I have done or not done. And I don’t know from one moment to the next which Antonius I will be having to deal with.’
Flavia was almost in tears.
‘At least this time he gave me a reason. He said he’d started to hear complaints from customers about Claudia and why hadn’t I dealt with them.’
‘And what did you say?’
‘I didn’t get a chance to say anything. He told me to undress and ... I suppose I’m lucky he didn’t have me scourged. That would have been the end of me. And do you know what he did then?’
Birkita shook her head.
‘He gave me some ointment – aloe to put on it. Said he didn’t want any customers seeing me like that.’
‘I’ll put it on for you,’ said Birkita.
‘Birkita,’ said Flavia. ‘I’ve changed my mind. We have to escape. Otherwise we’ll die here.’
She shook her head.
‘Sooner or later. We’ll die.’
26
The cold blue skies of February have given way to a March of grey days and low hanging clouds. Showers alternate with snow flurries. Julia is glad to be indoors. The crew of painters, of which she is part, has worked its way down to the ground floor but Julia’s mind is not on painting or the Paradise Ghetto or the war or the book or anything else. She is thinking about Suzanne. Last night she wanted to kiss Suzanne – wanted Suzanne to kiss her. Why didn’t she? Why didn’t they?
Julia shakes her head. (She actually does shake her head.) She has kissed so many people – men and women – in the stuff she did for Bert. But now Julia is like a teenager with a crush. In fact, Julia had just such a crush in school – on a girl two classes ahead of her. Anika was her name. She was beautiful, great at sports, really smart in school. Julia feels just like that now – just as she did when she would see Anika across the playground or on the sports field.
Julia is sure that Anika is happily married by now – and she wasn’t Jewish so she is probably safe in Amsterdam, or at least as safe as anyone can be. Maybe Anika even has a child. Or two. Julia imagines perfect, gorgeous little children. A boy and a girl. Or twins. When Julia thinks of the direction her life has taken in comparison, the things she has done, things she could never tell Suzanne ... And yet now, Julia is just like the girl she was back in her second year in high school – melting at the sight of Anika.
Julia remembers how she used to try to catch sight of Anika by waiting until she went home from school. Julia used to spend hours awake at night trying to invent schemes so that she and Anika could become friends. Sure, she was two years older than Julia and had her own friends, but Julia was convinced that if only they could get to talk, Anika would see what a great person Julia was. How interesting. With such amusing things to say. And they would become best friends.
But then Julia would be overtaken by what she called the ‘Anika feeling’. It was a feeling of being all weak and helpless. It was like she was Anika’s little dog – with no mind of her own and anxious to please. She imagined that if she did ever get to talk to Anika that she would be like that – with nothing intelligent or witty to say – and Anika would just look at her pityingly and walk away.
In the end, of course, Julia never even got to speak to Anika. And it took another year before Julia’s crush had faded away.
When Julia arrives back at the barracks from work, Suzanne is already there. She is beaming.
‘I’ve got a surprise,’ she says.
Julia is tired after her long day of physical work, hungry and frustrated.
‘I’ve got a new job,’ says Suzanne.
‘Doing what?’
‘They’re going to be planting lots of flowers and plants for this big clean up that they’re doing. I’ve been moved to the flower planting. I start tomorrow.’
Julia is pleased for Suzanne. She’ll enjoy that more – and she’ll get better rations.
‘But that’s not the best bit,’ Suzanne continues, interrupting Julia’s thoughts. ‘I’ve already met the foreman. He’s Austrian. He’s really nice. He said he’s looking for more people for his crew. He asked me if I knew anybody good and I told him about you. I gave him your name and he’s going to arrange for you to be transferred too. Isn’t it wonderful? We’ll be working together again.’
It is wonderful and Julia is delighted. Hopefully, the spring will come in the next few days and then they will be outside and be together in the warmth and sunshine. She and Suzanne hug each other and go down to the courtyard to get their food. Meagre as it is, getting something into her belly restores Julia’s humour. They go back to their bunk and discuss the next piece of the book. It’s Suzanne’s turn to write and they both agree that that’s good. Flavia is her creation and Birkita’s escape is now bound up with Flavia.
They spend some time talking about the whole revenge thing. The Count of Monte Cristo had three people on whom the hero sets out to exact revenge. So far they have only one – the bull Roman – or maybe two with Antonius. Suzanne says that they’ll find somebody else along the way. She estimates they have written only somewhere between a quarter and a third of the book.
‘There’s still lots that can happen yet,’ she says.
They wash and turn in. The lights are put out. Suzanne puts her glasses away carefully. They lie on their backs in the darkness.
‘I’m glad we’ll be working together again,’ says Julia.
She suddenly feels the Anika feeling, wanting to say things – anything – that will make Suzanne find her interesting.
‘Me too,’ says Suzanne.
‘Planting flowers will be nice.’
Julia has always been indifferent to flowers, plants or gardening of any kind. Her mother loved gardening. It was like she found refuge there. Refuge, or was it forgetting? Or pretending that the world was a flower garden.
‘It will,’ says Suzanne.
Julia can think of nothing more to say. She racks her brain but in all the vastness that she always imagines is there, she can find nothing. She is about to wish Suzanne good night when Suzanne rolls on to her side. She reaches across and gently turns Julia towards her. Their eyes have become accustomed to the dark so that Julia can see – faintly – Suzanne’s face. It is quite beautiful, as though all the pain has been taken from it. Suzanne finds Julia’s lips and kisses her. She slips her tongue into Julia’s mouth. Suzanne closes her eyes.
For a moment Julia is so astonished that she doesn’t know what to do. But then she returns the kiss, as passionately as Suzanne, and closes her eyes too. She opens them again only when Suzanne ceases to kiss her. Suzanne’
s lips are moist and slightly parted, her eyes bright. Her face wears a small, dreamy smile. Then she closes her eyes again so that she looks almost as though she were drugged. She puts her hand behind Julia’s head and moves it forward kissing her again.
After the second kiss, Suzanne breathes, ‘I love you.’
Julia moves closer – as close as she can – pressing herself against Suzanne’s body. Her breasts against Suzanne’s. Her groin pushed hard against Suzanne’s. They are both wearing dresses and Julia feels Suzanne’s hand through the material on her thigh. Then the hand has reached under the hem of Julia’s dress and pushed it up. Suzanne’s fingers feel gorgeous on Julia’s skin. Suzanne continues to kiss her as her hand rises further until it has reached Julia’s hip. Suzanne finds the waistband of Julia’s knickers and pulls them down. Julia raises herself off the bed slightly so that Suzanne can get them down as far as she can as quickly as she can. There is an urgency in Suzanne’s movements that Julia has never seen before. Suzanne has always seemed a bit dreamy. But not tonight. Not now.
Suzanne pushes the knickers until they are down below Julia knees. Julia can feel herself becoming wet. Suzanne’s arm is at full stretch so now she shoves at the gusset of the knickers with her toes and they slide down around Julia’s ankles. She thinks that one leg of them may have come off but she can’t be sure. Julia parts her legs and a moment later Suzanne’s fingers touch her there. Suzanne’s index finger strokes along the line of her vulva.
And then Julia freezes. She clamps her legs together again, momentarily trapping Suzanne’s hand. Suzanne pulls her hand away as though it had been burnt.
‘What is it?’ whispers Suzanne anxiously. ‘What have I done?’
‘I can’t,’ gasps Julia and she begins to sob. ‘I can’t.’
The Paradise Ghetto Page 17
