I fear to go forward as if going forward will mean the end of self this me that I know this I that is where would that go? I fear to find myself in myself I fear to let me alone and I fear to lose everything and I fear to be me in case me is bad. I go lightly without a torch and I am filled with the springy steps of this and that men. They follow me everywhere with this and that intent. If I had been someone else I would have asked their intentions is it strictly dishonourable or some decency? That is an unfashionable word unfathomable in this society of pigs where to eat big is to be big. Big fish eat the little fish that is what everyone does that is considered normal. It is abnormal to think small it is abnormal to be small it is ok to be big and mean and nasty. I will try to be big and nasty too. The thing was there was too many people against her she was unattended there was nothing to do but surrender to the evil in herself. The jury has become undecided it is up to the second jury to decide what the first jury could not come to terms with let the second jury decide what the first jury could at first get glimpses of. It is all confusion you know when will society decide what the juries dare not decide? It is a fact of life you can’t send your daughters to the whorehouse even if she did run away from home. The jury was out to get her and everyone was against her then the mistakes she had made for the great and the noble got inside her made her dangerous to them made them scared of her frightened that their secrets would be out.
“This is a rapist.”
“Attempted rape is a crime.”
“We are women suffering from woe.”
“Those women are actually capable and enjoy such crimes.”
I’ve just joined the social whirl of activity. This and that happens life is not all about one thing and novels certainly are not. You know a novel must have humour otherwise ends up in the pile of the un-reads. Or what the editors don’t want is to see no social activity or whirl about and turning the page means being varied. So I took myself off on social activities, one must do all that to see the sights of life. One sight was the penultimate and his nasty piece of nonsense. He wants me to become a call girl. Do I look like a call girl? I bite my nails don’t indulge in drugs and certainly if I don’t love the man I can’t stand being touched. So if I fall in love ten times a night would that be ok? But I am not fickle; I am reliably informed that I am too reliable. I saw the sights of dustbins being bashed and men being hit and somebody dying. Probably a call girl, stabbed in the street as if without meaning as if she a stray cat. While the world looks on society at me without a trace I’ll disappear and know nothing but this endless night.
“You haven’t been around lately?”
“No,” It is my relative the one with millions must not breath his name can’t contaminate the old sod. He lives somewhere in England or is it Grosvenor place I am suitably impressed.
“You haven’t sold any of your books?”
“It is no work for woman a woman should have suitable employment doing accounts or secretary or even business. No poetry and writing art is for man.”
“Leave it to the men to do everything like changing society and the world.”
“We live in it too? We too live in this place I want to fart to”
“It is so unladylike!”
“There’s no lady I am not a lady what gave you an idea that I was?”
“It is a sad fact that you never married and are having relations?”
“What relations I haven’t.”
“Don’t deny it. Your auntie sees you every year going with different cab drivers.”
“What? Not my unmentionables!”
“Cabbies who are married you even take them on trips all round Cyprus.”
“Mum can’t walk what else am I supposed to do allow the cabbie to starve? Or get sun stroke?”
“It is a fact of life that we are born equal.” far away from his wife. She gloats at me with her slim figure I am to be made an example of.
“It is not on?”
“My books don’t sell anything more. My books don’t sell it will never sell in my life time. I don’t know why everyone is ganging on me is it my fault if I am brilliant and different?”
“Then work” Says a desperate relative.
“I am working but not earning.”
“What a nonsensical girl you are.”
“I don’t enjoy weddings you know.”
“Then don’t come. I’ll see to it that you are never invited to one again.”
“Good that will solve the problem of what to wear and my wearing the same dress to six weddings won’t be an issue.”
“Actually it was four. We are no longer nobodies we have to keep abreast that we are one of the leading families that we must make this a new concept of snobbery and thrift and strive towards making the family look good. Never darken this door again or mend your ways.”
“I’ve been thrown to the lions out of Eden into being a total nobody.”
What on earth does it mean to me? No more dressing down any more embarrassing small talk. No more being seen outside of myself inside self is destroyed. But do I need these people? Does it matter if my family have cast me aside left me to rot? It strangely does. It is as if part of me is pared down cast adrift now I have no one to turn to if I go to jail. I wonder if I commit murder whether they would have said the same thing. Now alone this is me alone aside alone inside.
“Come dad come mum we are leaving this glorious party.”
“Just when we were having fun”
She seems strangely intoxicated. I alone I’m sober. She is still gossiping about the old days and old ways. I gather she has a lot to say but they’ve been having the same talk for years and they all know the answers to their silly stories. The niece glares at me as she is still gossiping with the mum. I alone am tortured. I am alone in this vicious dress circle. They are all holding onto their gowns as they whirl about doing the little discussions as if their brains are not in it as if something far more is going on.
Dog eats dog and underdog is I? I spit out the chicken as if it is filled with bile. I take them to their orders and say,
“I am leaving I am getting a bus. I want to go home.”
“I thought you liked parties?”
“I’ve run out of dresses.”
“They are getting married again next week do come?”
“Let them rot in their weddings. I don’t want to see or to know these people. If I become famous I am not inviting them to a garden fete or book launch even if they want to buy all my books.”
“That is why your books don’t sell.”
“Let them bloody not sell. If I live to be a hundred years old I will not marry to order.”
“You won’t be asked if you are a hundred. Time is running out.”
“I’m in no hurry!”
“Women do that sort of thing they have to otherwise they have no income! I wash my hands off it all. It is not fair that she is answering back.”
“That is all that I have my tongue my speech my little demented world cast adrift in my little world of make believe you tried to take my world from me. The make believe the home I have the things I know. Now I am going to tell you something but it is a waste of breath because something has gotten into you all and it is avarice and greed as if you lot are eating each other’s dresses. I wish no part in this.”
“And the cousin said,” said mum laughing away merrily as if her clanking tongue is getting more and more sharp. The cousin is giving her a hard time I go and take her away before they poison each other.
“The chicken is off?” asks another cousin as I try to piece together my impressions on that impressive evening.
“It is not off. Look he is going?”
“Who is the fool?”
“The millionaire cousin said to me.”
Mother is placing bets on the bride and the groom and they seem to be winning all round smiles and uncle came and said something and then he said something to father and then we went pale.
“Do not come again.”
“Yes, we have gone off you.”
I had just caught him out seducing a young girl and this must be the reason but then shudder to think what it mattered all the men were cuckolds and all the females went to the 22-butler place to get laid.
Uncle said his bread and butter.
His wife was brighter than he was left him standing there holding the money while she held onto her baby. She said it was not fair he said life is not fair and their marriage went down the drain.
I am not going to let it go from there.
“No, she said bitterly, “I know what to do with that.”
In the end must have done because he now divorced with his pants undone.