‘Did she find my film?’
‘Your film?’
‘I lost it.’
‘I don’t know.’
The baby seemed to blow a bubble: then looked up in wonder at where it might have gone.
Lilia came and stood by them. Anderson put an arm around her.
Lilia said ‘How did you know I was here?’
Anderson said ‘I didn’t. I came to see Eleanor.’
Lilia said ‘Then who brought the milk and biscuits?’
Anderson said ‘Angels.’
The baby looked at Anderson sideways; then put its head against his shoulder, as if shy.
Anderson said to the baby ‘Perhaps you did. Perhaps you found my film. Perhaps you’ll lift your family out of the mud and slime —’
He raised and lowered the baby.
Lilia moved away. She said ‘Someone must have been here.’
Anderson said ‘Listen!’
He rolled his eyes at the baby. The baby crowed, and put a finger in his mouth.
Anderson said ‘A lion!’
Lilia was wearing an old dressing-gown of Eleanor’s. She undid it, and held her arms out for the baby.
Anderson said ‘Can I have a bit?’
Lilia said ‘You are disgusting.’
There was the sound of someone moving, as if surreptitiously, behind the caravan.
Anderson raised a finger.
Then he said loudly — ‘After all, I am your brother!’
Lilia sat on the bed and fed her baby from her breast.
Anderson, watching her said ‘On my way here I met a man who was looking for a lion escaped from a circus.’
He had a memory, suddenly, of when he had been present when the baby had been born; Lilia’s face had been flushed and sweating; her legs had been so far apart that they seemed to be splitting her; the baby’s head was like an oak from an acorn; he had thought — Thank you, my sister, for letting me see this sun.
Lilia said ‘What about Judith?’
He said ‘What about Judith?’
She said ‘When did you last see her?’
The noises from outside had ceased.
He said ‘People were always overhearing things in nineteenth-century novels.’
He thought — Why did I say that?
Getting up and leaving Lilia, and going out of the caravan, he went round to the back where there were the tent, the camp bed, the sleeping bag, the still smouldering fire. Someone seemed to have been sleeping there: no one was there now.
He thought — Well, who did rescue my film?
Then — But it is impossible to think about coincidences.
Lilia called — ‘I thought that was because they wanted to get away from each other.’
He said ‘Who wanted to get away from each other?’
She said ‘People in nineteenth-century novels.’
He thought — One gets what one wants: does one?
— Or one gets into the sun, coming up from behind the trees like the head of a drunk man from behind a table —
He said ‘— Shove one’s head in its mouth, that old lion —’
Going back into the caravan, he found Lilia transferring the baby from one breast to the other.
He thought — I can put into film some events like these —
He said ‘Eleanor’s not there.’
‘Who was it then?’
He thought — People moving, yes, like genes, like chromosomes; making a head, a hand, here, there; from the inside world; out into the universe —
He said ‘They’re expecting us this morning, aren’t they?’
Lilia said ‘Shall we go?’
He thought — Those baby’s hands are like sea-shells, trying to shape Lilia’s breast, which is the sea.
14
Judith bent down at the door of the Professor’s flat and tried to see through the letter-box. Pushing with a finger and thumb against the flap, she made the door swing open. She thought — And so you fall on your face; as when the train is left by the railway station —
It was still very early. She held in her hand the page from the Professor’s notes that she had picked up at his lecture. She had been going to push it through the letter-box. She thought — Now I will go inside and leave it even more mysteriously; like a reel of film in a landscape —
She went into the hall. The door into the Professor’s bedroom was open. She thought — He is waiting for someone to come into his dreams?
She stood with one foot in front of the other as if she did not want to be caught moving.
As she went into the bedroom — stepping, stopping, stepping — she thought: In grandmother’s steps, is it Red Riding Hood who in fact wants to jump on her poor old grandmother?
The inside of the bedroom was dark She had the impression of being watched from elsewhere. She thought — Through a two-way mirror: or through the fourth wall that actors pretend either is or is not there —
The Professor was lying on his bed. He was on his back, with his hands folded across his chest. She thought — Or I am the dog at his feet; or the third eye that looks inwards, like the eye of Siva —
She stood still, her hands by her sides, one foot in front of the other.
The Professor turned and looked at her.
She thought — Will he say nothing: or will he send me back to the beginning?
The Professor said ‘I was lying here dreaming —’
She took a step forward. She thought — He can imagine it is not exactly me who is here?
He said And what I was dreaming of was you —’
She remained still.
‘— Would I, or wouldn’t I, prefer the reality to the dream?’
She reached for the bed with a jump. She said ‘Got you!’
He said ‘Because what I was doing in my dream was —’
He put his arms around her.
She said ‘Well, here I am.’
He said, quoting ‘— I will do such things — what they are yet I know not —’
Judith got off the bed and went into the passage and closed the front door. Then she came back into the bedroom.
He said ‘Where’s Lilia?’
She said ‘With Eleanor.’
He said ‘And that other girl. What’s her name —’
‘Who?’
‘Judith. Juliet.’ Then — ‘Why does he sometimes call you Juliet?’
He propped himself on an elbow, watching her.
She thought — You mean, something kinky?
She said ‘Because I can be part of sometimes this dream, do you think, and sometimes that?’
He lay on the bed and looked at the ceiling. He said — ‘Or what would be the difference?’
She sat on the edge of the bed. She said ‘They were taking samples of soil from in front of the Old Science Buildings.’
He said ‘And getting people out of the surrounding houses?’
She thought — I could put a finger on your forehead and say — Get it out! Get it out!
He said ‘You go on for so long, and then you go crazy.’
He held out a hand to her.
She said ‘What do you think it is?’
He said ‘Nothing.’ Then — ‘You think there was something in that basement?’
She said ‘But what do other people think was in that basement!’
He said ‘They’ll think they can’t talk about it.’
She said ‘And will you talk about it?’
He said ‘No.’
She said ‘That’s all right then.’
She began undressing.
She thought — But on a stage, you could try to say something about it?
When she was undressed, she climbed on to the bed.
He said, watching her, ‘What do old men do?’
She said ‘Lie on their backs, don’t they, and look at the ceiling.’
He said ‘You take away some sort of death, some sort of protection, from me.’
&
nbsp; She wondered — Do old men need to be hit, as well as want soft lights and sweet music, like a baby?
She lay on her front. He sat up and began to stroke and caress her.
She thought — Oh I am a queen bee, with all my workers, hanging from the ceiling!
Then — What we are now doing, that is a metaphor —
— A sieve, a riddle —
— Oh I am a nugget of gold —
— Is it you? Is it you? —
— That baby.
He said ‘There!’
Then — ‘Upsadaisy!’
He had put his head down against her and was laughing.
She thought — But if making love is between the two parts of the brain —
— Yes?
He said ‘An old man wanted to die within the dream of his young mistress —’
She thought — One part thinks and gives names: the other part doesn’t speak much but knows what things are for —
He said’— But as his life was passing in front of his eyes —’
She said ‘Yes?’
She had rolled over and was looking at the ceiling.
He said ‘— He saw her, waved, and said — Coo-ee!’
She jumped up and went through into the bathroom.
She thought — Well that was fine: wasn’t it?
He called after her ‘Do you still want to be an actress?’
She thought she might say — Can you smell something burning?
When she came back into the bedroom she said ‘Are you often lonely?’
He said ‘I’m what I want.’
‘So am I.’
She began dressing.
She said ‘But you’ve done it. I mean, your life —’
He said ‘You can send me postcards.’
When she was dressed she said ‘What is that bundle of nerves called between the two parts of the brain?’
He said ‘The corpus callosum?’
She said ‘Do you think that is like making love?’
He said ‘Oh good heavens!’ He jumped off the bed, and began dressing.
She was standing by the door of the bedroom.
She said ‘I mean, I’ve brought you that page of notes from your lecture.’
She watched him dressing.
He said ‘Bet I’m first into the passage.’
She said ‘You can’t possibly be first into the passage.’
He said ‘Why not?’
She said “You’re still dressing and I’m halfway there.’
He finished dressing.
She said ‘How?’
They went out of the bedroom and moved towards the door into the passage.
She said ‘Is that what you’re working on now?’
He said ‘How to make love with two parts of the brain?’
She said ‘Lucky old you!’
They were at the door. He opened it.
She stepped aside to let him go through.
He ushered her ahead of him into the passage.
15
Lilia and Jason walked at the edge of a ploughed field beneath a cold sky and trees as if reflected in water. Jason was carrying the baby on his hip. Sometimes it looked out on the world as if it would tell it what to do; sometimes it studied its parents as though they were legs, lungs, livers, heart-beats. Lilia walked on a furrow balancing with her arms out like a swan. She said ‘You didn’t sleep with her, did you?’
Jason shouted ‘Of course I didn’t!’
The baby clapped with one hand against his chest.
He said ‘And you didn’t sleep with him?’
She said ‘No!’
She thought — He shouted too loud? Or need I believe him, when it comes back on the curve of the universe?
The ground they were walking on was strewn with flints. Some of them might have been chipped with axes thousands of years ago.
Jason said ‘Did he talk about the experiments he is doing?’
She said ‘I think, you look through a peephole, into what seems to be a room of walls, tables, chairs — then you look at it from above and it’s just lines.’
He said ‘Perhaps something to do with the anatomical structure of the brain.’
She said ‘Or recessive genes: or chemical warfare —’
He said ‘Or some such.’
They were coming to an edge of the ploughed field. There was a wood, with beech trees.
He said ‘You know that thing called Catastrophe Theory’ She said ‘Do I?’
He said ‘Things are apt to change without your seeing just how or why, in jumps.’
She said ‘Like the opening of a flower —’
He said ‘Or the breaking of a strain —’
She said ‘What about Catastrophe Practice?’
There was a wire, which he held up for her. She climbed under. Then she held her arms out for the baby.
He said ‘I did bring you milk!’
She said ‘I thought it was the fairies.’
She took the baby. He put a leg over the wire. Watching him she thought — It is in no-man’s-land, of course, that men are so vulnerable.
He said ‘That’s a good title!’ Then — ‘Like genes, we are and are not so vulnerable.’
In the wood there was a path with leaves dropping. They walked quietly.
He said ‘I was so miserable.’
She said ‘I suppose it was my fault.’
He said ‘Of course it wasn’t!’
Somewhere in front, through the trees, there was the sound of an engine roaring.
Lilia said to the baby ‘Tell it to go away’
Jason said ‘Go away’
The baby, which Lilia was now holding, put a finger out, pointing.
She thought — Like God: that old man on the ceiling —
There were some figures in front of them through the trees. They were gathered round what seemed to be a lorry.
He said ‘Keep moving.’ He put his hands out for the baby.
She thought — You hold your hands by your sides: put one foot in front of the other —
The lorry seemed to be stuck in some mud. Its engine roared and faded.
She said ‘I do wish they would hurry up and die.’
He thought — Mothers can say that? Then — That is one of the gifts given to grown-ups by babies.
Some of the men round the lorry had stopped trying to push it and were watching them.
The baby turned its head away looked up at the leaves, the shadows.
Lilia and Jason turned off down a side-path at right angles to the lorry. They looked at the ground as if they were careful of where they were treading.
Lilia said ‘Isn’t the place near here where they go underground if there’s a war or something?’
Jason said ‘And dream of breeding like rabbits.’
The baby held a finger up as if he were listening.
Lilia thought — You could wish them dead if they were rabbits —
Jason thought — Cannot one say that?
They walked on.
They had come to a part of the wood that was cut off by iron railings. There was a mound, covered with undergrowth; a blocked-up entrance to something like a womb.
She thought — Womb? Tomb?
— Laboratory?
Then — If it would stop them, one could say that.
They stood looking at the mound. Jason was holding the baby.
She said ‘I want to stop thinking.’
She thought — What was it: to get back to the garden, you’ve got to go right round the world and in at the back way —
There was the sound of shouting behind them.
They walked on through the wood.
Jason said ‘I once asked the Professor: If the solar system were an atom, what it would be an atom of.’
She said ‘And what did he say?’
‘Nothing’
She thought — Nothing?
He said ‘I mean, he said that there is nothing, ex
cept the solar system itself, which could be such an atom.’
She thought — A cypher then?
There was a large puddle across the path in front of them. They looked for a way round.
She said ‘Do you think there are trip wires?’
They turned back the way they had come.
He said ‘On Saturday morning; in a quiet walk through the wood —’
There was the sound of something crashing through the undergrowth to one side of them.
The baby seemed to have gone to sleep.
She said ‘We’ll stand still: shall we?’
He stood with his arms through hers; the baby between them.
She thought — A cipher, cypher; what goes between —
Then — We might be on that journey across a desert?
There was a man in a woollen cap plunging through the undergrowth.
When he was close to them he stopped. He seemed to look in his pocket for — a handkerchief? a gun? a hand-grenade? Then he smiled: he went on.
She thought — Breaking down the fences: leaping up the waterfalls —
The baby opened one eye and looked at them.
Lilia said ‘You won’t die, will you?
There was the sound of a backfire, or a gunshot, from the direction of the lorry.
Jason said ‘No.’
They came again to the railed-off mound like a tomb. Its door had been forced open. It hung on one hinge.
After a time Jason bent down carefully as if to see inside.
She thought — Dials; switches; ladies and gentlemen on the grass —
He said ‘There’s no one there.’
She said to her baby ‘There’s no one there.’
Her baby pointed with his finger the way on through the wood.
He said Walk normally. The way back to the car.’
They were moving down the path which went past where they had seen the lorry.
She said ‘Do you pray?’
He said ‘Sometimes.’ Then — ‘Do you?’
They stopped. There was the lorry. There was no one round it. The baby began to struggle to get out of his arms.
Lilia held her arms out for the baby. She said ‘It’s all right, my darling —’
There was what seemed to be a body lying in the mud by the lorry.
Lilia said ‘Don’t go!’
She thought — We are goats, tethered, in a clearing in the jungle.
The baby was studying her face.
Men were coming down the path from the direction of the ploughed field and the road. They were wearing woollen caps and gum boots.
Catastrophe Practice Page 30
