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Stories by Doris Lessing-第8章

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taramasalata and the retsina and all that stuff they had right here in london but of the sun on the dark…blue sea and the hot rocks and the olive trees and the singing。 often when the two greeks talked together tom and mary—neither knew more than a few words of greek—exchanged smiles acknowledging that these people they had married were sometimes strangers to them。

mary did not speak to demetrios that night when he came in; as usual; late; well after midnight; but she sat up in bed and stared at him while he stumbled around the room and swore and discarded his clothes anyhow and then flung himself on the bed with his back to her。 she longed to put her arms around him from behind and do what he loved her to; which was nibble his ear and then kiss and bite his neck。 the first time she did this it had been like jumping over a fence into the dark because she was taking the initiative; which she had not done—she liked being the one who said yes—and there was at once a storm of sex。 but there wasn’t always: i’m not going to let you take me for granted; said dmitri; teasing her—she thought; but then saw this was his delicacy again; for he was sensitive; surprising her; when you’d think he was just a big rough noisy man。 he knew she would be shy; afraid he would think she was asking for sex instead of sometimes just a cuddle; and that was why he kept her guessing。 she had seen helen giving tom little touches and strokes that put a look of wonder and astonishment on his face; and she had tried them out on dmitri—without helen she would never have thought of doing anything like that。 now she lay beside dmitri; rigid; and she was thinking that one night it was easy to put one’s arms around one’s husband and then be happy till morning; and the next night it was impossible to put a hand to touch him; let alone kisses and nibbles。

she kept the silence going all night; for she did not sleep; and next morning through breakfast。 and now she was frightened。 she sat staring at him while he averted his eyes but sometimes glanced at her in wonderment; in anger; and in fear。 but as well as being scared she was dissatisfied; and her dissatisfaction with everything and with him; like an accusation of him; was stronger every minute; because what she was doing was feeding it。 he should be well; he should be kissing her hands and covering them with tears and saying he was sorry。

that night she was careful to seem asleep when he came in from the restaurant。 perhaps he will kiss me; she thought: he often did; when she was asleep。 she would put up her arms and pull him down into her。 but he didn’t kiss her。

next morning at breakfast she could see herself sitting there; with her staring face like a radar dish following him around the room。 he was not looking at her; though。 she thought; he’s stupid。 just because i haven’t got a smile on my face and i’m not speaking—but i’m just the same inside; aren’t i? meanwhile he was stumbling about and knocking into things。 he looked as if she had put a curse on him。 he left his coffee and banged straight out。 next morning she woke before he did; and was about to slide quietly out of bed so as not to have to “put on the performance;” which was how she was now thinking of it; but he sat straight up in bed and she adjusted her face so that she was staring at him over the edge of the duvet。 he let out a shout; as if he had had a nightmare; and then he began to sob; “you’re a cruel woman; mary。 you’re a cruel hard woman。” that night he sighed in his sleep and groaned and shouted out what sounded like imprecations in greek。 it frightened her。 he could kill me; she thought; and; no; she wasn’t anywhere near being thrilled but decided; i’ll stop it。 it’s enough。 but she couldn’t stop。 an implacable accusing stare had fastened itself on her face。 and she thought; but i started it all for a good reason; didn’t i?

and the days passed。 on an evening when the four were together mary hoped the others would not notice that she was ignoring demetrios and that he was doing anything to avoid looking at her。 but helen noticed; all right。

next day mary asked helen; “how long do you go on with it?”

“i’ve never kept it up longer than a day。 well; i love him; don’t i?” she sounded a bit evasive。

it was now three weeks since mary had begun the treatment。 she was in a frenzy of panic; and did not go out at all but sat weeping; and then sat silent; staring; not at dmitri; for he was not there; but at the wall。 she did not know what was happening; but it was terrible。 had she lost her husband? he was not ing in till very late; because he had been drinking。 when he did he stumbled around the room swearing at her—in greek。 then one night he didn’t e home。

“what’s going on with you and dmitri?” asks tom; meeting mary in the street。 “are you having a quarrel?”

“nothing like that;” mary says smiling; while she feels her life is falling apart。

in bed that night she put her arms around her drunk husband; from behind; and nuzzled up and said; “e on; dmitri; don’t sulk。” “go to hell!” he shouted; and blubbered noisily; in a way that made her hate him; and then he suddenly fell asleep。 in the morning she was up and out of bed and laid the breakfast; and when he came out of the bathroom; already putting on his jacket to go out; she held him at the door and said; “i’ve got a nice breakfast for you。”

at which he laughed; but it was like a bark; and he shook his finger at her in clumsy sarcasm and said; “you’re talking。 you don’t use words to me; so shut up; i don’t want to hear you。” he left。

mary went to where helen was with the baby。 she was among a group of wives and babies。 they were all laughing and talking and joggling their babies about。 was that really helen? was she ill or something? she looked thin; and even ugly; with her lumpy nursing breasts。 and as she stood looking at helen; thinking; but that’s not what helen is like; she thought that these days dmitri seemed to her a fat clumsy man with a red swollen drinker’s face。 mary went to join the group and saw that helen was not moving up on the bench to make room for her。 mary pushed her way in; and he
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