The Double Tongue by William Golding

Philistines!’
    But I had burst into tears and seemed quite unable to control them. Though whether I was sad or happy or anxious or wholly achieved I find it impossible to say.

III
     
     

     

 
     
    It was Ionides who took me before the Second Lady. She was not what I had thought a Pythia could possibly be. She was lying on a couch just the way a man does, leaning on one elbow. The first thing anyone would notice about her was that she was enormously fat, fatter even than my nurse had been. She had dewlaps that slumped down as if they might slide right down to the ground at any moment. Her feet were bare and it was the first time in my life that I had seen painted toenails. They matched those on her fingers. I had heard of this, however. My mother had cited it as the sign of ‘an unspeakable woman’ or a woman whose profession is not to be named. She meant ‘female companion’, ‘hetaera’, though I believe there is an even dirtier profession. I do not – or did not – know what it is called.
    ‘Come close, child. Good heavens, you are indeed a child. Fourteen? Fifteen?’
    ‘Fifteen, Gracious Lady.’
    ‘Sit down, child. No, not on the chair. You don’t really want to be uncomfortable do you? Try the stool. Isn’t that better? I must say, you are not going to stop the traffic in the street, but you have a pretty voice. Do you sing?’
    ‘I don’t know, Gracious Lady.’
    ‘Don’t be silly. Of course you know!’
    She was kind enough but firm. I thought for a while.
    ‘Nursery rhymes. Nothing more. Country songs, a few, like everyone else.’
    ‘A few notes are very helpful. Grunts will do of course. The occasional wail if you think it appropriate.’
    ‘Gracious Lady?’
    ‘She is a real nestling isn’t she, Ionides? Where did you find her?’
    ‘We should visit the First Lady I think.’
    ‘Go along then. That’ll be all, child.’
    ‘Gracious Lady –’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘When do you want me to start?’
    ‘Start what?’
    ‘Serving you.’
    ‘You are not serving me, child. You are to serve the god. That’s the right form, isn’t it, Ion?’
    ‘She hasn’t been told much yet. May we go now?’
    The Gracious Lady rolled heavily on to her back, stared at the ceiling and seemed to ignore us with point. Ionides bowed and spoke.
    ‘We take our leave then.’
    I followed him out and crossed to the opposite door. He laid one finger on his lips and opened it. A doorman stood at ease inside. He came to attention when he saw us. Ionides nodded and led me on. The great living room of the First Lady was still darkling, the shutters bolted. Ahead of us I could just make out a figure, seated on a chair. It seemed to be looking at us. We waited. When the voice came it was like a thread of sound.
    ‘Ionides?’
    ‘I am here. Do I call you Gracious Lady today? Or do I call you Mother?’
    ‘I am the Pythia.’
    ‘I bring you the child. The one I spoke of.’
    ‘Let her come close.’
    ‘Reverend Mother, we cannot see.’
    ‘I said let her come close. So. Give me your hand, child.’
    ‘Here, Reverend Mother.’
    ‘Let me feel your face. You have much boy in you, neither one thing nor the other. That might please him. Do you dream? I said do you dream?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Do you remember your dreams?’
    ‘No, Reverend Mother.’
    ‘It is not for you to call me that. Gracious Lady will do well enough. Later it will change. Do you understand?’
    ‘No, Gracious Lady.’
    ‘Ionides, her mouth is too small. It will be torn.’
    ‘You still believe the power will come again?’
    ‘Do you?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Gracious Lady –’
    ‘What is it, child?’
    ‘My mouth torn – Why am I here?’
    ‘You should have told her, Ionides.’
    ‘I thought it better left to you.’
    ‘Not the other one?’
    ‘I spit me of her.’
    ‘Child, stay where you are. Ionides, open the shutters.’
    Presently a long and opening shaft of daylight moved across the room. She was dressed in white and her head was