me. So okay. Your choice. There’s the door.” He flicks his thumb at it. “There. Now there’s a green bathrobe on it. Simple. You stand off the bed, you walk to the door, you put on the robe, you leave, we forget the whole thing. It never happened. Your move.”
She casts a look towards the door, then once more turns away. There is a silence. She draws up her legs a little, turns away a fraction more.
“I’m cold.”
He goes and fetches the green bathrobe; returns to the bed and drapes it roughly over her shoulders. Then he sits down again on the chair. She says nothing, but then, with a curious slowness, as if she hopes he may not notice, she lets her body sag and her face sink down into the pillow. The silence grows. Her left hand moves surreptitiously up from under the bathrobe and touches her eyes. There is a faint, stifled outbreath. He stands and goes to the bed again, half extends a hand towards her shoulder, but then changes his mind. Another stifled outbreath. He sits on the side of the bed, his back to her, untouching; but speaks more neutrally.
“We’re not being very consistent.”
Her voice is almost a whisper, on the brink of breaking.
“It’s because you’ll never admit you’re wrong about anything. You’re so unkind to me. You don’t know how alone I feel.”
“We were both enjoying it. Until you –”
“I can’t enjoy it when I have no status at all. When I don’t even know who I’m really supposed to be. When I know it may end at any moment.”
“I had no intention of ending it.”
“Well how was I to know?”
“It was perfectly jolly teasing.”
“No it wasn’t. You were needling me all the time. Just taking advantage of my helplessness.”
“Now you’re being paranoiac.”
“I’m
not.
” He feels her shift, and glances around. She is looking at him over the bathrobe, her eyes still wet; and personifying every hurt and helpless female face, caught between reproach and appeal for sympathy, since time began. “I didn’t even exist at all a few hours ago. I’m as innocent as a newborn baby. You
don’t
realize.”
It is a face even more beautiful and seductive in tears than in its other states. He turns rather sharply away.
“I didn’t start it.”
“But you did. You gave me that whole impossible spiel about the satyr to deliver and then promptly told me I was lying. That I’m as chaste as a go-go dancer. You know, it’s like being a pimp, then accusing one of your girls of being a whore.”
“I take the expression back. Consider it erased.”
“I suddenly felt, what am I doing here letting this total stranger humiliate and insult me like this – distort what I really am. I mean I know I’m technically nothing. But what I begin to feel I would be if I wasn’t. My true, serious nature.”
“I’ve already admitted I’m wrong about her. Erato.”
“I don’t care about her. I care about
me.
”
“All right.”
“I’m not like that. I know I’m not.”
“I’ve said all right.”
“It was so crude. So blatant.”
“I’m prepared to admit that making you so incredibly beautiful was a mistake on my part.”
“You don’t begin to understand what women like me are about.”
“I realize I should have given you a heavy chin, fat legs, a squint, acne, bad breath… I don’t know. Whatever would have given your true serious nature a chance to shine through.”
There is a silence.
“It’s too late for that now.”
“I don’t see why. I was just thinking. I’ve already changed your appearance twice. Full consultation this time, of course. You could tell me the specific ways in which you’d like to be totally unattractive to men.”
“You only changed my clothes. Not my basic body. It would seem absurd.”
“I could always drag in a deus ex machina. Let me think. We leave here together, we drive away, we have a terrible car crash, you are crippled and hideously disfigured for life, once more I suffer a major amnesia, ten
She casts a look towards the door, then once more turns away. There is a silence. She draws up her legs a little, turns away a fraction more.
“I’m cold.”
He goes and fetches the green bathrobe; returns to the bed and drapes it roughly over her shoulders. Then he sits down again on the chair. She says nothing, but then, with a curious slowness, as if she hopes he may not notice, she lets her body sag and her face sink down into the pillow. The silence grows. Her left hand moves surreptitiously up from under the bathrobe and touches her eyes. There is a faint, stifled outbreath. He stands and goes to the bed again, half extends a hand towards her shoulder, but then changes his mind. Another stifled outbreath. He sits on the side of the bed, his back to her, untouching; but speaks more neutrally.
“We’re not being very consistent.”
Her voice is almost a whisper, on the brink of breaking.
“It’s because you’ll never admit you’re wrong about anything. You’re so unkind to me. You don’t know how alone I feel.”
“We were both enjoying it. Until you –”
“I can’t enjoy it when I have no status at all. When I don’t even know who I’m really supposed to be. When I know it may end at any moment.”
“I had no intention of ending it.”
“Well how was I to know?”
“It was perfectly jolly teasing.”
“No it wasn’t. You were needling me all the time. Just taking advantage of my helplessness.”
“Now you’re being paranoiac.”
“I’m
not.
” He feels her shift, and glances around. She is looking at him over the bathrobe, her eyes still wet; and personifying every hurt and helpless female face, caught between reproach and appeal for sympathy, since time began. “I didn’t even exist at all a few hours ago. I’m as innocent as a newborn baby. You
don’t
realize.”
It is a face even more beautiful and seductive in tears than in its other states. He turns rather sharply away.
“I didn’t start it.”
“But you did. You gave me that whole impossible spiel about the satyr to deliver and then promptly told me I was lying. That I’m as chaste as a go-go dancer. You know, it’s like being a pimp, then accusing one of your girls of being a whore.”
“I take the expression back. Consider it erased.”
“I suddenly felt, what am I doing here letting this total stranger humiliate and insult me like this – distort what I really am. I mean I know I’m technically nothing. But what I begin to feel I would be if I wasn’t. My true, serious nature.”
“I’ve already admitted I’m wrong about her. Erato.”
“I don’t care about her. I care about
me.
”
“All right.”
“I’m not like that. I know I’m not.”
“I’ve said all right.”
“It was so crude. So blatant.”
“I’m prepared to admit that making you so incredibly beautiful was a mistake on my part.”
“You don’t begin to understand what women like me are about.”
“I realize I should have given you a heavy chin, fat legs, a squint, acne, bad breath… I don’t know. Whatever would have given your true serious nature a chance to shine through.”
There is a silence.
“It’s too late for that now.”
“I don’t see why. I was just thinking. I’ve already changed your appearance twice. Full consultation this time, of course. You could tell me the specific ways in which you’d like to be totally unattractive to men.”
“You only changed my clothes. Not my basic body. It would seem absurd.”
“I could always drag in a deus ex machina. Let me think. We leave here together, we drive away, we have a terrible car crash, you are crippled and hideously disfigured for life, once more I suffer a major amnesia, ten
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