The Sea, The Sea Part 3

The house of course was dark within but stood out rather starkly in the brilliant twilight, its awkward tall thin shape appearing against the high horizon of the sea. When I was about halfway across the causeway I thought I saw a movement at one of the downstairs windows. I stopped and stood perfectly still, staring at the house. It was difficult to look at it because of the vividness of the sky behind it, and my eyes kept jumping and refusing to focus. For a moment or two I could see nothing clearly, but I was now sure that I had seen that movement, something moving inside, in the book room. I moved very slowly forward, blinking and staring. Then I saw, momentarily but plainly, a dark figure standing inside the house, at the window, looking out. The figure dissolved into darkness and my eyes seemed blinded. I dropped the bottle and it slid down the steep side of the rock and quietly shattered below. I walked quickly back across the causeway to the road.

There was someone or something inside the house. What was I to do? I could now hear the soft grating sound of the waves, like a gentle scratching of fingers upon a soft surface. And I felt upon the empty darkening road a shuddering sense of my utter solitude, my vulnerability, among these silent rocks, beside this self-absorbed and alien sea. I thought of walking back to the Raven Hotel and staying the night. But this seemed absurd; and would they give me a room, with my wild appearance and no luggage?

I then thought I might walk on to the village, to the Black Lionbutand then? I had no friends in the village. A further more dreadful realization came to me, I would be afraid to walk anywhere now in this gathering dark along this awful empty road. There was nowhere else to go but into the house. I began to walk slowly back across the causeway. I had left the back door open, but the front door was locked, so I would have to walk round to the kitchen. Then how quickly could I find matches, light a lamp? Supposing there was an intruder inside, he would hear me stumbling round to the back and would be waiting for me. How stupid it would be to be accidentally killed by a frightened burglar! I hesitated, but went on because by now my fear of the outside was as great as my fear of the inside, and most of all I feared my own fear and wanted desperately to end it or at least change it. Perhaps I had, in this funny light, imagined the whole thing, and would soon be laughing at myself and eating my supper. I recalled where there was an electric torch on a shelf inside the kitchen door, and I pictured where the lamp was, and the matches near it. I got a last glimpse of the sky, full of subdued light, and then I began noisily fumbling with the handle of the door. I blundered in, leaving the door open, found the torch, then the lamp and the matches. I lit the lamp and turned it up. Silence. I called out 'h.e.l.lo there'. The foolish frightened cry echoed in the hollow house. Silence.

I walked to the door, holding up the lamp, and looked into the hall. Nothing. I walked quickly to the front room where I had seen the 'figure'. It was empty. I searched the other downstairs rooms. Nothing. I tried the front door. Still locked. Then I began more slowly to mount the stairs. I had always somehow felt that if there was anything sinister in the house it was located on that long upper landing. As I was mounting the last few steps I heard a sudden and prolonged clicking sound. The bead curtain had been moved.

I stopped. Then went mechanically on, my mouth open, my eyes staring. As I stood at the end of the landing I lifted up the lamp again, and stared into the uncertain s.p.a.ce before me, where the light of the lamp and the last outside twilight filtering through the open door of my bedroom made a dense foggy amalgam. I could make out the darkly shaded alcove, the outline of the archway, the dotted ma.s.s of the bead curtain. Then suddenly, I saw, beside the wall at the far end, between the curtain and the door of the inner room, the dark motionless figure of a woman. My first and clear thought was that I was seeing a ghost, the ghost of the house, at last! I gave a choked grunt of fear and wanted to run back down the stairs but could not move. I did not drop the lamp.

The figure moved, turned more fully towards me. It was a real woman, not a ghost. Then in a flash it looked familiar. Then I could see the face in the lamplight. It was Rosina Vamburgh.

'Good evening, Charles.'

I was still trembling and quickly digesting my fear. I felt intense relief mixed with rising anger. I wanted to curse aloud but I remained silent, controlling my breathing. Why, Charles, you're all of a tremble, what's the matter?' Rosina speaks, off the stage, if such a woman can ever be said to be off the stage, with an odd slight, I suppose Welsh, accent which is all her own. The house felt terribly cold, and for a second I felt I hated it and it hated me.

'What are you doing here, why are you in my house?'

'Just paying a visit, Charles.'

'Let me see you off then.'

I went away down the stairs and on into the kitchen where I lit another lamp. I went into the little red room and lit the wood fire. Hunger, temporarily suspended by fear, returned. I came back into the kitchen and turned on the calor gas stove to warm the room a little, and set out a gla.s.s, a plate, bread, b.u.t.ter and cheese and a bottle of wine. Rosina had followed me and was standing near the stove.

'Won't you give me a drink, Charles?'

'No. Go away. I don't like people who break into my house at night and play at ghosts. Just go, will you. I don't want to see you!'

'Don't you want to know why I've come, Charles?' Her repet.i.tion of my name was hypnotic and menacing.

'No.'

'You're surprised, you're curious.'

'I haven't seen or heard of you for two years, three years, and even then I think I only met you at a party. Now you suddenly turn up in this perfectly hateful manner. Or is it supposed to be funny? Am I expected to be glad to see you? You aren't part of my life. Just clear off, will you.'

'I am am part of your life, you know. Yes, you part of your life, you know. Yes, you are are frightened, Charles. It's interesting, it's a revelation, it's so frightened, Charles. It's interesting, it's a revelation, it's so easy easy to frighten people, to bewilder them and persecute them and terrify them out of their wits and make their lives a misery. No wonder dictators flourish.' to frighten people, to bewilder them and persecute them and terrify them out of their wits and make their lives a misery. No wonder dictators flourish.'

I sat down, but I could not eat or drink in her presence. Rosina found herself a gla.s.s, poured out some wine, and sat down opposite to me at the table. I was still cold with anger and upset about my fear but now that I was a little less hungry I did feel a grain of curiosity about Rosina's strange manifestation of herself. Anyway, how could I get rid other if she refused to go? It was wiser to placate her and persuade her to go other own accord. I began to look at her. She was certainly, in her odd way, an extremely handsome woman.

'Dear Charles. You are recovering. I can see it. That's right, have a hearty supper, bon bon appet.i.t appet.i.t.'

Rosina was wearing a sort of black tweedy cloak, with slits through which she had thrust her bare forearms. Her hands were covered with rings, her wrists with bracelets, which were glinting as she lightly tapped her fingers together. Her dark wiry hair, looking almost black in the lamplight, was pinned up in some sort of Grecian crown. She had either grown it longer or helped it out with false tresses. Her face was heavily made up, patterned with pinks and reds and blues and even greens, looking in the subdued localized light like an Indian mask. She looked handsomely grotesque. Her mouth, enlarged by lipstick, was huge and moist. Her squinting eyes sparkled at me with malign intensity. She was playing a part: putting on the controlled dramatic display of emotion which seems to the actor so moving, to the spectator often so unconvincing.

'You look a right clown,' I said.

'That's good, dear, that's like old times.'

'Do you want anything to eat?'

'No, I had high tea at my hotel.'

'Your hotel?'

'Yes. I'm staying at the Raven Hotel.'

'Oh. I was there this evening. They wouldn't let me into the dining room.'

'I'm not surprised, you look like a filthy student. Seaside life suits you. You look twenty. Well, thirty. I heard them discussing you in the bar. You seem to have annoyed everyone already.'

'I can't have done, I haven't met anyone'

'I could have told you the country is the least peaceful and private place to live. The most peaceful and secluded place in the world is a flat in Kensington.'

'You mean the waiter turned me out even though he knew who I was?'

'Well, he may not have recognized you. You aren't all that famous. I'm far more famous than you.'

This was true. 'Stars are always more famous than those who create them. May I ask what you are doing at the Raven Hotel?'

'Visiting you.'

'How long have you been there?'

'Oh ages, a week, I don't know. I just wanted to keep an eye on you. I thought it might be rather fun to haunt you.'

'To haunt haunt me? You mean' me? You mean'

'Haven't you felt haunted? Not that I've done very much, no turnip lanterns, no dressing up in sheets'

I wanted to shout with exasperation and relief. 'So it was you you broke the vase and the mirror, and you've been creeping round at night and peering at me'

'I broke the vase and the mirror, but I haven't been creeping round at night, I wouldn't come in here in the pitch dark. This house is creepy.'

'But you did, you looked at me through the gla.s.s of that inner room.'

'No, I didn't. I never did. That must have been some other ghost.'

'You did, someone did. How did you get in?'

'You leave your windows open downstairs. You shouldn't, you know.'

I suddenly then, as I was staring at her, saw a vision: it was as if her face vanished, became a hole hole, and through the hole I saw the snake-like head and teeth and pink opening mouth of my sea monster. This lasted a second. I suppose it was not really a vision but just a thought. My nerves were still terribly on edge. I could hear the sea again, louder. But as I could hardly suppose that Rosina had arranged for me to be haunted by a sea monster I decided not to mention it.

'But why did you persecute me in this way? And why did you decide to let me discover you now, if you did?'

'I saw Lizzie Scherer in the village today.'

'Yes, she was here, she's gone. But what has that got to do with it? I can't understand what this is all about.'

'Can't you, Charles? Have you forgotten? Let me remind you.' Rosina leaned across the table, laying her hands flat and pointing her long fingernails at me like little spears. The nails were painted a dark purple. The bracelets grated on the wooden table. 'Have you forgotten? You promised that if you ever married anybody you would marry me.'

Fear returned to me, a vista of cold dismay, the emergence in life of the unpredictable and dangerous. Rosina's unnervingly blue eyes were sparkling, her rings were glistening. What she said was perfectly true.

I said lightly, 'Did I? I can't remember. I must have been drunk. Anyway I'm not proposing to get married.'

'No? And you promised that if you ever settled permanently with anyone you would settle with me.'

This also was unfortunately true.

Rosina smiled. She has slightly irregular long, white teeth and a kind of 'smile' whereby she advances her lower teeth to meet her upper ones and draws back her lips. The effect is terrible. 'You were not drunk. And you remember, Charles.'

I was trying to think what line I had better adopt with this dangerous woman. I had certainly not expected her to reappear in my life. But now that she had done so I recognized and respected her style. The broken vase, the smashed mirror were not idle portents. Why these reminders now, what had set it all off? The reference to Lizzie was the clue, though unfortunately I had no time to reflect upon it. If that was her drift, suppose I told her that Lizzie's presence here meant nothing? This would only put off the crisis whose nature I was just beginning to grasp. Had I, in my recent thoughts, considered Lizzie in the hypothetical light of a permanent partner? Possibly. Had I thought seriously of marrying Lizzie? No. But Rosina's terrorism was intolerable, an impertinence. I decided it was better to be aggressively firm and direct straightaway.

'Look here, just stop this, will you. I forget what I said exactly but it was momentary emotional nonsense, as you perfectly well know. One can't bind oneself like that and I'm not bound. Those were just words, not a promise.'

'Promises are words. You are bound, Charles. Bound Bound.' She repeated the word softly with an intense emphasis.

'Rosina, don't talk rubbish. People say all sorts of things during love affairs which they don't mean, you know that. Or if you prefer, all right I promised, but I shall break my promise just as soon as it suits me, like everybody else.'

'So you are going to marry her?'

'Who? What are you talking about? Do you mean Lizzie?'

'So it's true?'

'No, of course I'm not going to marry her.'

'So you're not going to marry her?'

'Rosina, will you leave me alone? Whatever put this idea into your head anyway?'

'Oh, as to that,' said Rosina, snapping her fingers, 'it's all over London. She had to crow. She's gone round telling everybody that you're plaguing her with proposals.'

I did not believe this of course.

Rosina went on, 'Gilbert Opian has rushed about trying to make up some sort of party against you. Everyone is very amused.'

Gilbert was the culprit.

'And I gather you didn't even know Lizzie was living with Gilbert. Surprise, surprise. Everybody knew that. If you aren't interested enough to know who she's living with you aren't interested enough in her to marry her.'

'I'm not going to marry her.'

'You've said that twice.'

'I meanoh go away, Rosina. And they aren't lovers.'

'You believe that?'

'I mean I shall do what I want to do.'

'You've always known who I was living with.'

'You flatter yourself. I don't care what you do or who you're with so long as you keep away from me. Now clear off.'

Rosina did not move, except that she stretched out one hand across the table until the long pointed nail of her middle finger touched my shirt sleeve. Then I could feel the nail sticking into my arm. I sat rigid, not wincing. 'You have not understood,' she said. 'Why do you think I have come to you now? I did not enter your house and break things just to amuse myself and laugh with you afterwards. I want to tell you this. You may or you may not marry me, but I am not going to permit you to marry anybody else. I shall hold you to your promise.'

'You can't. You are living in a dream world.'

'Oh you can go through a marriage ceremony, or settle down with a lovebird of your choice, but you will not live happily ever after. If you set up with Lizzie I shall spoil your life as you spoilt mine. You will not be able to hide from me. I will be with you all the time, I will be in your mind day and night, I will be a demon in your life and in her life. Until she cries with misery because she ever met you. It is very easy to frighten people, Charles. I know, I have done it. It is easy to maim people and utterly destroy their peace of mind and cripple all their joy. I shall not tolerate your marriage, Charles. If you wed this wench, or if you keep her as your love, I shall dedicate my life to spoiling yours, and I shall find it very easy very easy.'

She drew her hand back. A stain of blood appeared on the sleeve of my shirt. These were not the idle momentary ravings of a jealous woman. This was hatred, and hatred can destroy, it has its own magic. Rosina had the will and the power to do exactly what she threatened. And as I thought this I felt with a pang that this black will was, when it was otherwise directed, the very thing which had made me love her. She was smiling again, showing her white fishy teeth.

I took a reasonable tone, which did not deceive her, for she could feel my fear. 'Your threats are rather premature, but if you bother me for any reason I shall certainly retaliate. Why have a war on your hands, why waste your life and your time? This is hate not love. You're a rational woman. Forget it. Why make yourself miserable with these paroxysms of peevish jealousy?' These words were a bad mistake. Rosina struck the table with the flat other hand and her eyes sparkled with violence. 'You dare to talk of jealousy! As if I cared about that little lump you are running after! All right, you left me, me, to take up with her, and I haven't forgotten. I could have maimed her or maddened tier, only I knew you'd get tired of her, and you did, you get tired of everybody. You wrecked my marriage, you prevented me from having children, for you I made a slaughter of all my friends. And when you'd begged me on your knees to leave my husband, and when I'd left him, you abandoned me for that baby-face. Do you not remember what our love was like? Have you forgotten why you uttered those words?'

'Mercifully one forgets one's love affairs as one forgets one's dreams.'

'You never had any imagination, no wonder you couldn't write plays. You are a cold child. You want women but you are never interested interested in the people you want, so you learn nothing. You've had love affairs but somehow you've stayed innocent, no not innocent, you are fundamentally vicious, but somehow immature. Your first mistress was your mother. Clement was baby-s.n.a.t.c.hing. But don't you see that it has all been a mirage? Those women loved you for your power, your magic, yes, you have been a sorcerer. And now it's overI am the only one who loved you for yourself and not your invincible locks.' in the people you want, so you learn nothing. You've had love affairs but somehow you've stayed innocent, no not innocent, you are fundamentally vicious, but somehow immature. Your first mistress was your mother. Clement was baby-s.n.a.t.c.hing. But don't you see that it has all been a mirage? Those women loved you for your power, your magic, yes, you have been a sorcerer. And now it's overI am the only one who loved you for yourself and not your invincible locks.'

'This speech would be more impressive if you had uttered it earlier and not just because you've heard a rumour about Lizzie!'

'I was waiting to see if you would really give up the world, as you boasted you would. I wanted you stripped and alone. Then you might have been almost worthy of me. Well, what a fool I was to think that I would ever be able to admire you for anything except that facile sorcery! But the fact remains that you made that promise to me in a moment of truth, in an absolute of love such as few men are privileged to have in their lives ever. And that promise belongs to me, it is all I have got in exchange for my broken marriage and for tlie love which I poured out for you as I have never done for any man. I have got that promise and I will hold it and use it even if there is nothing I can do with it except make your life a desolation and a ruin.'

I got up suddenly, and she became tense and actually lifted up her glittering hands like clawed paws. She looked like a ballet dancer playing a cat.

'Listen, my cross-eyed beauty, it's late, just get along will you, go back to the Raven Hotel. I'm going to bed. And please don't creep around this house any more breaking things and peering through panes of gla.s.s. I have no plans for getting married or settling down with any female.'

'Do you swear that?'

'No arrangement exists. Lizzie is living with Gilbert. That's how it is. And of course I never proposed to her, that was just a crazy rumour. Now go, I'm exhausted, and you must be too after that long performance.'

She got up and pulled her cloak more closely around her, her arms emerging through the slits, gripping each other in front. She stood for a moment glaring at me. 'I will go. But tell me you believe what I have said.'

'I believe some of it.'

'Tell me you believe what I have said.'

'I believe it. Now for Christ's sake get out.'

I walked out with the lamp towards the front door and she followed. I opened the door. The light of the lamp revealed a mist which was waiting outside like a presence. It was impossible to discern the end of the causeway.

'I'll light you to the road,' I said, and I went back for the electric torch. 'But look, I'd better walk with you to the hotel. Oh h.e.l.l h.e.l.l; 'You needn't,' she said in a dull lifeless tone. 'My car is near.'

I lighted her across the causeway with the torch. The mist was less thick on the road. 'Where is your car?'

'It's here, in this place behind the rock.'

We walked to it and she got in. I said, 'Goodnight.'