her, and her yellow hair was strewn across the pillow like tendrils of flowers creeping toward the light. I closed the door. In her sleep, the shirt had ridden its way up to her navel. One leg was bent, and the foot rested against her other knee, clumsy description, try again, no time, I am panting. I found myself suddenly without my clothes. The cool starched sheets brushed against my knees and sent an intolerable shiver along my spine. I knelt down. She made a small sound of annoyance, and shifted her legs. I said,
‘Helena … Mrs Kyd.’
I was beginning to have a sense of general foolishness. She turned her head, and her eyelids fluttered. It was at that moment that I wounded her. Now, here is a point. For that wound alone I ask forgiveness; all the other sins can be bound together and hung upon my balls for all eternity, but for that one, that plunge into the world of all nocturnal adolescent dreams made living flesh, I plead tolerance and mercy, for that was one time when the freedom of my will was denied me. Strangely enough, I feel that I shall be forgiven, providing god is not a woman. This woman whom I had skewered now sprang awake. Her eyes clicked open, and she gave a great squawk of astonishment and fright, and made an effort to rear up off the pillow. I held her down, and laid soothing hands upon her face. I grinned and said,
‘Hello there.’
She began to speak. That is to say, her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out, only garbled quacking sounds. I kissed her, and took a few experimental leaps. She lay rigid and unyielding. I took my mouth away from hers, and she snarled,
‘God damn you.’
‘Yes yes, no doubt, but not yet,’ I panted.
And I laughed. She closed her eyes tightly, and bit her lips,but she could no longer resist. Her legs twined with mine, and she relaxed. I put my hands on her backside, and we were away. At the end I was overcome by a little fit of rage, and casting about in my mind for some likely victim, I could think only of Julian, so I gave her one last stab for him, cried out a foul word, and then felt profoundly ashamed. I slipped away from her, and lay with my face buried in the pillow, listening to her laboured breath beside me. In a while, it grew calm, and I fell asleep with the distant sound of music in my head.
23
Aye, and in the darkness of that sleep I saw the fanged black creatures creep into the room and surround the bed, their tiny red eyes flashing. They snapped at me, and snarled, and tried to tear my face, until at length they trapped one of their own in a corner and devoured it alive.
24
My shabby room, the dry flat smell of heat, the air empty, useless, sucked dry by the countless creatures who had haunted it before me. I moved with a torpid slowness from wall to wall, from the chair to the window, smoking, eating crumbs of biscuits, trying not to think. At last I lay down on the bed. Through the long hours of the afternoon I watched the window, the curtains stirring. The sun travelled its journey, a finger of light which moved across the floor to climb the shutters and retreat. The sounds of the village faded. Strange twilight came and trembled on the glass. I covered my eyes. I could bear no more, of the silence, the screams which made no sounds, of the endless days with their wild lights and moods, no more of this island, its timeless savage sadness.
Get out, that was all she had said, lying with her face turned away from me in disgust. When I bent to kiss the pink flower of a nipple, she had not even bothered to push me away. A sceneof satyrs and woodland nymphs by a river was painted on the bed-head. I put on my clothes and left her. The music, that intolerable music, followed me from the house and down the hill.
There was a knock upon the door. I sprang off the bed, leaving the springs of the mattress jangling like violated nerves. She stood outside, with her arms folded, leaning against the wall. Her face seemed expressionless. Without a
‘Helena … Mrs Kyd.’
I was beginning to have a sense of general foolishness. She turned her head, and her eyelids fluttered. It was at that moment that I wounded her. Now, here is a point. For that wound alone I ask forgiveness; all the other sins can be bound together and hung upon my balls for all eternity, but for that one, that plunge into the world of all nocturnal adolescent dreams made living flesh, I plead tolerance and mercy, for that was one time when the freedom of my will was denied me. Strangely enough, I feel that I shall be forgiven, providing god is not a woman. This woman whom I had skewered now sprang awake. Her eyes clicked open, and she gave a great squawk of astonishment and fright, and made an effort to rear up off the pillow. I held her down, and laid soothing hands upon her face. I grinned and said,
‘Hello there.’
She began to speak. That is to say, her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out, only garbled quacking sounds. I kissed her, and took a few experimental leaps. She lay rigid and unyielding. I took my mouth away from hers, and she snarled,
‘God damn you.’
‘Yes yes, no doubt, but not yet,’ I panted.
And I laughed. She closed her eyes tightly, and bit her lips,but she could no longer resist. Her legs twined with mine, and she relaxed. I put my hands on her backside, and we were away. At the end I was overcome by a little fit of rage, and casting about in my mind for some likely victim, I could think only of Julian, so I gave her one last stab for him, cried out a foul word, and then felt profoundly ashamed. I slipped away from her, and lay with my face buried in the pillow, listening to her laboured breath beside me. In a while, it grew calm, and I fell asleep with the distant sound of music in my head.
23
Aye, and in the darkness of that sleep I saw the fanged black creatures creep into the room and surround the bed, their tiny red eyes flashing. They snapped at me, and snarled, and tried to tear my face, until at length they trapped one of their own in a corner and devoured it alive.
24
My shabby room, the dry flat smell of heat, the air empty, useless, sucked dry by the countless creatures who had haunted it before me. I moved with a torpid slowness from wall to wall, from the chair to the window, smoking, eating crumbs of biscuits, trying not to think. At last I lay down on the bed. Through the long hours of the afternoon I watched the window, the curtains stirring. The sun travelled its journey, a finger of light which moved across the floor to climb the shutters and retreat. The sounds of the village faded. Strange twilight came and trembled on the glass. I covered my eyes. I could bear no more, of the silence, the screams which made no sounds, of the endless days with their wild lights and moods, no more of this island, its timeless savage sadness.
Get out, that was all she had said, lying with her face turned away from me in disgust. When I bent to kiss the pink flower of a nipple, she had not even bothered to push me away. A sceneof satyrs and woodland nymphs by a river was painted on the bed-head. I put on my clothes and left her. The music, that intolerable music, followed me from the house and down the hill.
There was a knock upon the door. I sprang off the bed, leaving the springs of the mattress jangling like violated nerves. She stood outside, with her arms folded, leaning against the wall. Her face seemed expressionless. Without a
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