to utter indifference, or possibly a feeling that he was too vile to look at. Fearing that she might walk out if he sat on the bed, he lowered himself onto the floor; on thy belly shalt thou go. Silence. Derek recalled Giles saying that even if Diana battered him with a frying-pan, he would still apologize. Would he, if quite suddenly she produced a pan from under the bedclothes and belted him? My head got in the way; I’m sorry if I dented it; I’ll buy another. Tremors of anger made him clench his fists. Charles had just dropped by and she’d been in bed with a headache; how lucky that some sixth sense had told her to put make-up on her face just in case.
‘I’m afraid I behaved very badly,’ he murmured.
To his amazement Diana leant over and kissed him. She drew back and looked at him with something approaching tenderness. Then she whispered, ‘You shouldn’t be apologizing at all.’
Was she going to confess it all? He must stop her at once. He blurted out, ‘I deliberately tried to annoy you.’
Diana laughed and ruffled his hair playfully.
‘I deserved it for being rude and childish.’ She got up and put her arms round him. Her dressing-gown had come open. She started to undo his shirt buttons. Derek shut his eyes. Was her appetite insatiable? She had started to stroke the hairs on hischest. A moment later she leant forward so that her breasts brushed his face. Derek got up and walked towards the window.
‘Didn’t you want me?’ she asked, with, what seemed to Derek, a horrifyingly convincing show of disappointment. He was now certain that she had thought his earlier aggression stemmed from suspicion about what she had been up to with Charles. But get him to bed and he’ll think himself a fool ever to have doubted her.
‘I’m afraid I can’t change my moods as quickly as you.’
Diana didn’t seem cross, as he had expected her to be; instead she laughed, threw off her dressing-gown and started to dress.
‘What about your headache?’ asked Derek.
‘Gone.’ She noticed his doubtful expression and smiled. ‘Aren’t you pleased?’ Derek made no reply, but she didn’t seem to notice. After slipping on an old pair of slacks and a loose sweater, she brushed her hair rapidly and turned to face him. ‘I’d better get some supper before the delicatessen shuts.’ Before he could ask her not to buy any salami, she had gone.
‘Won’t be long,’ she called from the hall. Her sudden energy left Derek feeling exhausted. He imagined her tripping gaily across the road, smiling at the man in the delicatessen, treading lightly as she walked and breathing in the cooler evening air appreciatively. Derek lay down on the bed. Possibly she was in love with the man; that would account for her light-hearted mood. He turned over and buried his head in the pillow. A few minutes later he thought of getting up and talking to Giles but his limbs felt too heavy. Why not just lie there for hours, days, years, surfacing only for food and trips to the lavatory? Or would it be better to go to the bathroom now and slit his wrists; die a Roman death? She would shout: ‘Supper’s ready!’ and he would hardly hear it as he watched the blood leaping from his wrists like little red dolphins. A closed account at the blood bank, no more to withdraw. A white corpse, only the slight drip of a tap, as the last corpuscles drained away. At first the final tranquillity of the image pleased him, but then, quite unexpectedly, he felt angry. Wasn’t the ‘wait and see’ policy he had proposed not much better than being a corpse? Diana had always wanted him to be assertive;perhaps she ought to have her way. Derek sat up abruptly. The discovery that he intended to fight to keep his wife came to him almost with the force and suddenness of a revelation. How he would set about it, or even when or where, he was uncertain; but set about it, he was sure he would.
Chapter 4
Once a month Derek visited his father at his Bayswater
‘I’m afraid I behaved very badly,’ he murmured.
To his amazement Diana leant over and kissed him. She drew back and looked at him with something approaching tenderness. Then she whispered, ‘You shouldn’t be apologizing at all.’
Was she going to confess it all? He must stop her at once. He blurted out, ‘I deliberately tried to annoy you.’
Diana laughed and ruffled his hair playfully.
‘I deserved it for being rude and childish.’ She got up and put her arms round him. Her dressing-gown had come open. She started to undo his shirt buttons. Derek shut his eyes. Was her appetite insatiable? She had started to stroke the hairs on hischest. A moment later she leant forward so that her breasts brushed his face. Derek got up and walked towards the window.
‘Didn’t you want me?’ she asked, with, what seemed to Derek, a horrifyingly convincing show of disappointment. He was now certain that she had thought his earlier aggression stemmed from suspicion about what she had been up to with Charles. But get him to bed and he’ll think himself a fool ever to have doubted her.
‘I’m afraid I can’t change my moods as quickly as you.’
Diana didn’t seem cross, as he had expected her to be; instead she laughed, threw off her dressing-gown and started to dress.
‘What about your headache?’ asked Derek.
‘Gone.’ She noticed his doubtful expression and smiled. ‘Aren’t you pleased?’ Derek made no reply, but she didn’t seem to notice. After slipping on an old pair of slacks and a loose sweater, she brushed her hair rapidly and turned to face him. ‘I’d better get some supper before the delicatessen shuts.’ Before he could ask her not to buy any salami, she had gone.
‘Won’t be long,’ she called from the hall. Her sudden energy left Derek feeling exhausted. He imagined her tripping gaily across the road, smiling at the man in the delicatessen, treading lightly as she walked and breathing in the cooler evening air appreciatively. Derek lay down on the bed. Possibly she was in love with the man; that would account for her light-hearted mood. He turned over and buried his head in the pillow. A few minutes later he thought of getting up and talking to Giles but his limbs felt too heavy. Why not just lie there for hours, days, years, surfacing only for food and trips to the lavatory? Or would it be better to go to the bathroom now and slit his wrists; die a Roman death? She would shout: ‘Supper’s ready!’ and he would hardly hear it as he watched the blood leaping from his wrists like little red dolphins. A closed account at the blood bank, no more to withdraw. A white corpse, only the slight drip of a tap, as the last corpuscles drained away. At first the final tranquillity of the image pleased him, but then, quite unexpectedly, he felt angry. Wasn’t the ‘wait and see’ policy he had proposed not much better than being a corpse? Diana had always wanted him to be assertive;perhaps she ought to have her way. Derek sat up abruptly. The discovery that he intended to fight to keep his wife came to him almost with the force and suddenness of a revelation. How he would set about it, or even when or where, he was uncertain; but set about it, he was sure he would.
Chapter 4
Once a month Derek visited his father at his Bayswater
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