The Double Tongue Read Online Free PDF Page A

that if Leptides had gone through with his offer I might have asked him for a mirror – and flinched at once from the bloodless image of his voice: What would you want with a mirror ? I combed my hair out but unravelled the knots with my fingers. I had neither so much hair nor so many combs that I could afford to lose any of them. I eyed my open chest with its folded clothes. The best one lay on top. I moved it on to my pallet and took out a dark gown that had frayed round the hem at the heel. I put it on slowly then fastened it with bronze brooches on either shoulder. I girdled myself and crossed the straps between my small, not to say insignificant breasts, then pulled up the skirt to let it hang down over the girdle.
    You will wonder why I did all this, I who had been grief before the void, but the reason is simple. Nature has a world of imperatives and I needed to obey one of them. It is odd how people in stories never need to ease themselves, and that bitch Helen never menstruated – no, no, not bitch – poor soul! So I went out through the unbolted door and into the privy and eased myself, thinking now I was no longer before it that of course the void was the door of death, which explained everything and brought me a measure of peace: for I saw that death was an escape and a refuge. That is a hard lesson for the young to understand unless they have really been brought before the void by the unbearable cruelty of life itself! The others are right to dance and sing and have best friends and marry a good man and love their children. When I was back in my room I wondered what to do next, which shows that I was properly alive again and even a bit hungry. But before I had come to any conclusion my mother opened the door and came in quickly.
    ‘Arieka! No, not that dress, your best one quickly!’
    ‘To wear?’
    ‘Quickly, I said! For Heaven’s sake get that old thing off and put on your egg and dart! You can wear the gold earrings today and the bracelet. Hurry!’
    ‘What is it, Mother?’
    ‘Hurry, I said! I want you looking your best.’
    ‘Oh, not Leptides! I won’t –’
    ‘No. Not Leptides. Forget him and hurry. Your father wants you.’
    After I had changed as fast as I could – and my mother fussed round, pushing a strand of hair this way, pulling up the skirt, muttering and blessing herself – we went, she in front, of course, I following with hands folded at my waist. But they came up of themselves.
    He was not alone. He lay on one couch and Ionides on the other. Ionides gave me his slight version of the smile with its accompanying sorrow. My father opened the proceedings.
    ‘You may sit, Demetria.’
    Ionides stirred.
    ‘And the girl, old friend? The girl too, don’t you think?’
    My father pointed to the other chair. I got myself on to it rather clumsily if the truth were to be told. My fear seemed to swirl round me. My father cleared his throat.
    ‘Ionides Peisistratides has with great generosity offered us a way out of our – what shall I call them?’
    ‘Your difficulties,’ murmured Ionides, ‘your temporary difficulties. Or do I sound too much like a money-lender?’
    ‘Our difficulties,’ said my father. ‘Precisely. He has made us an offer on your behalf. He proposes to nominate you as a ward of the Foundation.’
    There was a silence. My father stared at me, then at my mother, then at Ionides, then back at me.
    ‘Can’t you say something?’
    But I was not used to saying something. There was, as I think the saying goes, an ox on my tongue. It was Ionides who answered him at last.
    ‘I think, old friend, that you had better leave this to me.’
    He heaved himself up on the couch, turned a little, swung his legs and put his feet on the floor. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, just as if he had been a girl! I shall never forget that moment. I might have laughed but did not. But it was, to say the least, odd to face a man sitting opposite me. It was certainly odd, but