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trotted ahead of her, opening doors, happy at the prospect Melanic's eyes were fixed on his, but vacantly. Her body of a tete-a-tete at the sink. Washing up was more his scene was listening to the music. Her eyelids listened, her nipples than body language.
listened, her little toes listened. The music had gone very
' Shall I wash or wipe?' he asked, and then, as she looked quiet, but they didn't lose it. She swayed, he swayed, they blank:' Can I help you with the dishes ?'
all swayed, swayed and nodded, very slightly, keeping time,
'Oh, I'll just leave them to soak.'
responsive to the sudden accelerations and slowings of the
'I don't mind washing up, you know,' he wheedled. 'I plucking fingers, the light patter of the drum, the swerves quite like it, really.'
and undulations of tone and timbre. Then the tempo Melanie laughed, showing two rows of white teeth. One of became faster, the twanging notes louder, faster and louder, the upper incisors was crooked: it was the only flaw he could and they moved more violently in response to the music, detect in her at this moment. She was pretty as a poster m they writhed and twitched, stamped and lifted their arms her long white dress gathered under the bosom and falling and snapped their fingers and clapped their hands. Melanie's straight to her bare feet.
hair swept the floor and soared towards the ceiling, catching
' Let's just leave them here.'
the orange light in its million fine filaments, as she bent and He followed her back to the living-room. The Cowboy straightened from the waist. Eyes rolled, sweat glistened, was standing back to back with Carol in the middle of the 99
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breasts bounced, flesh smacked flesh; cries, shrill and ec-
*No, no, it's great, it's doing my vertebrae a whole lot of static, pierced the smoke. Then abruptly the music stopped.
good, I can feel it.'
They collapsed on to cushions, panting, perspiring, grinning.
He balanced himself on one foot planted firmly in the Next, the Cowboy had them do foot massage. Philip lay small of her back and with the other gently rotated the face down on the floor while Melanie walked up and down cheek of each buttock in turn. The foot, he decided, was a his back in her bare feet. The experience was an exquisite much underestimated erogenous zone. Then he over-mixture of pleasure and pain. Though his face was pressed balanced and stepped backwards on to a coffee cup and to the hard floor, his neck twisted, the breath squeezed out of saucer, which broke into several pieces.
his lungs, his shoulder-blades pushed nearly through his
' Oh dear,' said Melanie, sitting up. 'You haven't cut your chest and his spine was creaking like a rusty hinge, he foot?'
could have had an orgasm without difficulty - hardly sur-
'No, but I'd better get rid of these pieces.' He slipped on prising when you thought about it, some men paid good his shoes and shuffled out to the kitchen with the broken money in brothels for this kind of thing. He groaned softly as fragments. As he was disposing of these in the trashcan, the Cowboy rushed into the kitchen and began opening cup-Melanie balanced on his buttocks. She jumped off.
boards and drawers. He was wearing only jockey shorts.
•Did I hurt you?'
'No, no, it's all right. Carry on.'
' Seen the salad oil anywhere, Philip ?'
' It's my turn.'
4 People getting hungry again ?'
No, he protested, he was too heavy, too clumsy, he would
'No, no. We're all gonna strip and rub each other with oil. Ever tried it? It's terrific. Ah!' He pulled out of a cup-break her back. But she insisted, prostrated herself before board a large can of corn-oil and tossed it triumphantly in him in her white dress like a virgin sacrifice. Talk about the air.
brothels . . . Out of the corner of his eye he saw Carol jumping up and down on the mountainous figure of the
'Do you need pepper and salt?' Philip jested weakly, but black wrestler, 'Stomp me baby, stomp me,' he moaned; the Cowboy was already on his way out. 'C'mon!' he and in a dark corner the Cowboy and the Confederate threw over his shoulder.' The party's beginning to swing.'
soldier were doing something extraordinary and compli-Philip laced up his shoes slowly, deferring decision. Then cated with Deirdre that involved much grunting and deep he went into the hall. Laughter, exclamations and more sitar breathing.
music were coming from the darkened living-room. The
' Come on, Philip,' Melanie urged.
door was ajar. He hesitated at the threshold, then moved on, He took offhis shoes and socks and climbed gingerly on to out of the apartment, up the staircase to his own empty Melanie's back, balancing himself with outstretched arms as rooms, one part of himself saying ruefully, ' You're too old the flesh and bone yielded under his weight. Oh God, there for that sort of thing, Swallow, you'd only feel embarrassed was a terrible kind of pleasure in kneading the soft girl's body and make a fool of yourself and what about Hilary?' and under his calloused feet, treading grapes must be rather like another part of himself saying, 'Shit!' (a word he was sur-it. He felt a dark Lawrentian joy in his domination over the prised to hear himself using, even mentally) 'Shit, Swallow, supine girl even as he felt concern for her lovely bosom when were you ever young enough for that sort of thing?
crushed flat against the hard floor, unprotected, unless he You're just scared, scared of yourself and scared of your wife was much mistaken, by any undergarment.
and think of what you've missed, rubbing salad oil into
' I'm hurting you ?'
Melanie Byrd, just think of that!' Thinking of it, he actually IOI
IOO
turned round outside his door, debating whether to go back, ly about in his king-size bed. He turned the clock-radio on but was surprised to find Melanie herself rustling up the low, hoping it would send him to sleep. It was tuned where stairs behind him to whisper, 'Mind if I crash in your place he had left it the previous night, to the Charles Boon Show.
tonight? I happen to know one of those guys had clap not The Black Pantheress was explaining to a caller the appli-too long ago.'
cation of Marxist-Leninist revolutionary theory to the
'Not at all/ he murmured faintly, and let her in to the situation of oppressed racial minorities in a late stage of apartment, suddenly sober, his heart thumping and his industrial capitalism. Philip switched off. After a while he bowels melting, wondering, was this it ? - after twelve years'
went to the bathroom to get an aspirin. The door of his study monogamy, was he going to make love to another woman ?
was ajar, and without premeditation he turned into it.
Just like that? Without preliminaries, without negotiations?
Melanie was sleeping peacefully: he could hear her deep, He switched on the light inside the apartment, and they regular breathing. He sat down at his desk and turned on both blinked in the sudden dazzle. Even Melanie looked a the reading lamp. Its hooded light threw a faint radiance on little shy.
the sleeping girl, her long hair spread romantically over the
'Where d'you suggest I sleep ?' she said.
pillow, one bare arm hanging to the floor. He sat in his
' I don't know, where would you like to sleep ?' He led her pyjamas and looked at her until one of his feet went to sleep.
down the hall, throwing open doors like a hotel porter.
As he tried to rub life back into it, Melanie opened her eyes,
'This is the main bedroom,' he said, switching on the light staring at him blankly, then fearfully, then with drowsy and exhibiting the king-size bed that felt as big as a recognition.
playing field when he stretched out in it at night. 'Or
' I was looking for a book,' he said, still rubbing his foot.
there's this other room which I use as a study, but it has a
'Can't seem to get to sleep.' He laughed nervously. 'Too bed in it.' He went into the study and swept some books and excit
ed . . . at the thought of you in here.'
papers off the couch. 'It's really quite comfortable,' he Melanie raised the comer of the coverlet in a silent gesture said, pressing the mattress with splayed fingers. 'Take your ofinvitation.
choice.'
'Very kind of you, you're sure you don't mind?' he
'Well, I guess it depends on whether you want to fuck or murmured, like someone for whom room has been made in a not.'
crowded railway compartment. The bed was indeed crowded Philip winced. 'Well, how do you feel about it?'
when he got into it, and he had to cling to Melanie to avoid
' I'd just as soon not, to tell you the truth, Philip. Nothing falling out. She was warm and naked and lovely to cling to.
personal, but I'm tired as hell.' She yawned like a cat.
'Oh,' he said, and, 'Ah.' But it wasn't altogether satisfac-
' In that case, you take my bed, and I'll sleep in here.'
tory. She was still half-asleep and he was half-distracted by
'Oh no, I'll take the couch.' She sat down on it emphati-the novelty of the situation. He came too soon and gave her cally. ' This is fine, really.'
little pleasure. Afterwards, in her sleep, tightening her arms
'Well, if you insist . . . the bathroom is at the end of the round his neck, she whimpered, 'Daddy.' He stealthily hall.'
disengaged himself from her embrace and crept back to his
'Thanks. This is really kind of y o u . . . '
king-size bed. He did not lie down on it: he knelt at it, as
'Don't mention it,' Philip said, bowing himself out of the though it were a catafalque bearing the murdered body of room. He didn't know whether to feel glad or sorry at his Hilary, and buried bis face in his hands. Oh God, the guilt, dismissal, and the indecision kept him awake, rolling fretful-the guilt!
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And Morris Zapp felt some pangs of guilt as he listened,
' Would you mind raising your right arm just a little ?' said cowering behind his door, to the wails of Bernadette and the Morris. 'You're cutting out part of the screen.'
imprecations of Dr O'Shea, as the latter chastised the former O'Shea obligingly lifted his arm, thus resembling a man with the end of his belt, having caught her in the act of taking the oath in court. A luridly coloured advertisement reading a filthy book, and not merely reading it but abusing for Strawberry Whip swelled like an obscene blister under herself at the same time - an indulgence that was (O'Shea his armpit. 'But I must ask you not to bring pornography thundered) not only a mortal sin which would whisk her into the house.'
soul straight to hell should she chance to expire before
'Pornography? Me? I haven't even got a pornograph,'
reaching the confessional (as seemed, from her screams, all Morris quipped, confident that the gag would be new to too possible) but was also a certain cause of physical and O'Shea.
mental degeneration, leading to blindness, sterility, cancer
' I ' m referring to a disgusting magazine which Bernadette of the cervix, schizophrenia, nymphomania and general took from your room. Without your knowledge, I trust.'
paralysis of the insane . . . Morris felt guilty because the Morris evaded this probe, which indicated that plucky filthy book in question was the copy of Playboy he had been Bernadette hadn't squealed. 'You don't mean my copy of perusing earlier that evening, and which he himself had Playboy, by any chance ? But that's ridiculous, Playboy isn't given to Bernadette an hour before, having discovered her pornography, for heaven's sake I Why, clergymen read it.
reading it by the flickering light of the TV on his return Clergymen write for it!'
from ferrying O'Shea to and from Mrs Reilly, so engrossed
' Protestant clergymen, perhaps,' O'Shea sniffed.
that she was a microsecond too late in closing the magazine
' Can I have it back, please,' said Morris.' The magazine.'
and pushing it under the chair. Blushing and cringing, she
' I have destroyed it, Mr Zapp,' O'Shea declared severely.
stammered some apology as she sidled towards the door.
Morris didn't believe him. Inside thirty minutes he would be
'You like Playboy? '' Morris said soothingly. She shook her holed up somewhere, jerking himself off and drooling over head suspiciously. 'Here, borrow it,' he said, and tossed her the Playboy pix. Not the girls, of course, but the full-colour the magazine. It fell on the floor at her feet, opening, as it ads for whisky and hi-fi equipment...
happened, on the centrefold of Miss January, tilting her The commercials on the TV ended and the credits for one ass invitingly at the camera. Bernadette flashed him a of O'Shea's favourite series appeared on the screen accom-disconcertingly gap-toothed grin.
panied by its unmistakable theme tune. The doctor began to
'T'anks mister,' she said; and snatching up the magazine, watch out of the corner of his eye, while his body maintained she disappeared.
a stiff pose of umbrage.
Now her screams had subsided to a muffled sobbing and,
' Why don't you siddown and watch ?' said Morris.
hearing the footsteps of the outraged paterfamilias approach-O'Shea subsided slowly into his customary chair.
ing, Zapp scuttled back to his chair and turned on the
'It's nothing personal you understand, Mr Zapp,' he TV.
muttered sheepishly. 'But Mrs O'Shea would never let me
' M r Zapp'.' said O'Shea, bursting into the room and hear the last of it if she found the girl reading that sort of taking up his stand between Morris and the TV.
stuff. Bernadette being her niece, she feels responsible for the
' Come in,' said Morris.
girl's moral welfare.'
'That's natural,' Morris said soothingly. 'Scotch or
'Mr Zapp, it's no business of mine what you choose to Bourbon?'
r e a d - '
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'A little drop of Scotch would be very welcome, Mr Zapp.
staring with dismay at the growing pile of shards. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. At first he was conscious only I apologize for my outburst just now.'
of physical discomfort: indigestion, headache and a sul-
'Forget it.'
phurous taste in his mouth. On his way to the bathroom his
'We're men of the world, of course. But a young girl bleary gaze was drawn, through the open door of his study,
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straight from Sligo . . . I think it would put our minds at rest to the tousled sheets on the couch, and he remembered. He if you would keep any inflammatory reading matter under croaked her name: 'Melanie?' There was no answer. The lock and key.'
bathroom was empty. So was the kitchen. He drew the
' You think she may break in here ? *
curtains in the living-room and cringed as daylight flooded
'Well she does come in to clean the rooms, in the day-the room. Empty. She had gone.
time . . . '
Now what?
'You don't say?'
His soul, like his stomach, was in turmoil. Melanie's Morris paid an extra thirty shillings a week for this ser-casual compliance with his tired, clumsy lust seemed, in vice, and doubted whether much, if any, of the money found retrospect, shocking, moving, exciting, baffling. He couldn't its way to Bernadette. Passing her on the stairs the next guess what significance she might attach to the event; and morning, Morris slipped her a pound note. 'I understand didn't know, therefore, how to behave when they next met.
you've been cleaning my rooms,' he said.' You've done a real But, he reminded himself, holding his throbbing head in nice job.' She flashed him her toothless grin and looked both hands, problems of etiquette were secondary to prob-yearningly into his eyes.
lems of ethics. The basic question was: did he want to do it
' Shall I come to ye t
onight ?'
again? Or rather (since that was a silly question, who
'No, no.' He shook his head in alarm. 'You misunder-wouldn't want to do it again) was he going to do it again, if stand me.' But she had heard the heavy tread of Mrs O'Shea the opportunity presented itself? Not for nothing had he on the landing, and passed on. There was a time when taken up residence in a Slide Area, he thought sombrely, Morris would have snapped up a chance like this, teeth or no gazing out of the window at the view.
teeth, but now - whether it was his age, or the climate, he He did a lot of looking out of the window that day, un-didn't know - but he didn't feel up to it, he couldn't make willing to venture out of his apartment until he had decided the effort, or face the possible complications. He could what to do about Melanie - whether to cultivate the con-picture all too easily the consequences of being found by the nection, or pretend that nothing had happened. He thought O'Sheas in bed with Bernadette, or even behind a door at of putting through a long-distance call to Hilary to see which she was suing for admittance. Nothing was worth the whether the sound of her voice would act like some kind of price of looking for new accommodation in Rummidge in electro-shock therapy on his muddled mind, but at the last mid-winter. To avoid any accidents, and to give himself a minute his courage failed him and he asked the operator for well-deserved break, Morris decided to take a trip to Lon-Interflora instead. The sun set on his indecision. He retired don and stay overnight.
early and woke in the middle of the night after a wet dream.
Philip woke sweating from a dream in which he was Clearly he was reverting rapidly to adolescence. He turned on washing up in the kitchen at home. Plate after plate dropped the radio and the first word he heard was' pollution'. Charles from his nerveless fingers and smashed on the tiles under-Boon was talking about the end of the world. Apparently the neath the sink. Melanie, who seemed to be helping him, was US Army had buried some canisters of nerve gas, enough to 106
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kill the entire population of the globe, deep in underground
'I don't know,' said Philip. (I haven't seen her lately.
caves and encased in solid concrete, but unfortunately the Have you?'