The Double Tongue Read Online Free PDF Page B

think herself lucky,’ said my father shortly. ‘Is there anything else?’
    ‘We’ll nominate our man for the agreement and you’ll nominate yours, I suppose. But she can come before that. We have no differences do we? Everything is straight and plain.’
    ‘We don’t want the girl any more.’
    ‘I hope you mean that as far as she is concerned the affair is settled to her satisfaction? Any other meaning –’
    My mother stood up, so I did too. She spoke, ‘lonides Peisistratides, I thank you.’
    My father favoured me with a glare.
    ‘Well, girl? Aren’t you going to say anything?’
    ‘Honoured Father.’
    ‘To Ionides I mean.’
    But again my words were the wrong ones and made little sense.
    ‘This wonderful day –’
    The last I saw of Ionides that time he was not smiling but laughing out loud, a thing he seldom did.
    My mother fairly pushed me out.

II
     
     

     

 
     
    The last winter snow on the broad head of Parnassus; somewhere there in the deep valleys at the knee of the mountain was Delphi, the centre of the earth.
    I was woken out of an uneasy sleep at dawn. I had dreamed confusedly and in those days took much account of dreams, though mostly I dismiss them now. Every day we rid ourselves of the rubbish of our bodies. I think that in sleep with its dreams we are trying to rid ourselves of the rubbish of our minds. Not of course that I would have had such precise thoughts in those days. I was merely aware, with a faint feeling of distaste, that the people who ordered their actions by the dreams they had were trying to walk on water. That day began as usual, at first light. I was no sooner dressed and wrapped in an overmantel than my father summoned me before him. When I had curtsied with both hands hidden, he took up a small washleather bag and handed it to me. As I took it my hand touched his and I whipped it back. He said, in what for him was a kindly voice, that it did not matter.
    ‘Your mother has told me that you are purified. You may kiss my hand.’
    I did so with another curtsy.
    ‘Open the bag.’
    It will come as a surprise to those of a later generation – or perhaps to those of our own generation but below our degree – that I did not know what the things were. They were round and golden and had the head of the God Alexander the Great on them. I could not see any pins or catches for wearing them.
    ‘Have you nothing to say?’
    ‘Honoured Father, what are they?’
    There was a pause. Then he gave a great shout of laughter.
    ‘At least nobody can say you have not been well brought up! Well. Keep them close. “Honoured Father, what are they?” Did you know the story of the young wife who did not complain of her husband’s stinking breath because she thought all men were like that? Menander would make a play out of it. Well you must go along now. Ask Ion what they are. He’ll tell you – and dine out on the story!’
    He waved me away and went back to his accounts. At least I knew what they were.
    ‘Thank you, Honoured Father. Goodbye.’
    I waited for him to say something, but all he did was grunt and wave me away again. My mother was waiting for me.
    ‘Everything is ready. Come.’
    Our brake was ready. There was a wain with my boxes in it and Chloe looking far too pretty and with far too much of her face uncovered but I said nothing. I wondered busily, in a mean little mind, if Ionides would allow me to sell her. But he was there, waiting, his groom holding the horse ready. Presently my mother laid one hand on my shoulder, drew aside my scarf and kissed me on the cheek.
    ‘Be a good girl if you can. People will forget in time. The blessing of all the gods go with you.’
    That did, at last, make me cry. Crying, I was lifted by Ionides into the brake, crying I heard the orders, saw the group of horsemen turn towards the gate. It was a considerable procession for a floor-sweeper. But then, Ionides was an important man. We passed into the outer courtyard, passed through