Mood Indigo

  ‘I think it is slightly transparent,’ said Chloe. ‘Better be careful!’

  ‘Who cares? And besides, it’s much cosier,’ said Colin. ‘What would you like to do? …’

  ‘Just walk … Would that bore you?’

  ‘Not if you tell me stories…’

  ‘I don’t know any nice enough,’ said Chloe. ‘Let’s see what’s in the shop windows. Look at that! … Isn’t it interesting …’

  In the window a beautiful woman was lying on a spring mattress. Her breasts were exposed and an apparatus with fine white and long silky-haired brushes was steadily stroking them upwards. A notice at the side said Save Shoe Leather With Reverend Charles’s Antipodes.

  ‘What a good idea,’ said Chloe.

  ‘I don’t get the connexion! …’ said Colin. ‘Anyway, it’s much more fun to do it with your hands.’

  Chloe blushed.

  ‘Don’t say things like that. I don’t like boys who say naughty things to girls.’

  ‘I’m awfully sorry …’ said Colin. ‘I didn’t mean …’

  He seemed so dejected that she smiled and nudged him playfully to show that she wasn’t seriously angry.

  In another window a fat man with a butcher’s apron was cutting the throats of little children. It was a display advertising Family Allowances.

  ‘So that’s where all our money goes,’ said Colin. ‘It must cost a terrible lot to clear that up every evening.’

  ‘They’re not real! …’ said Chloe, alarmed.

  ‘How do you know?’ said Colin. ‘They get them for nothing on the National Assistance …’

  ‘I don’t like it,’ said Chloe. ‘We never used to have things like that in the shop windows. I don’t think it’s much of an improvement.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Colin. ‘It only affects people who already believe in that stupid kind of thing …’

  ‘And what’s this? …’ said Chloe.

  In the next window was a fat round cherubic stomach sitting on a pair of rubber wheels. The notice read Yours Won’t Have Wrinkles Either If You Smooth It With An Electric Iron.

  ‘But I can recognize that! …’ said Colin. ‘It belongs to Serge, my old cook! … What’s it doing there?’

  ‘Don’t start worrying about that,’ said Chloe. ‘I’m not going to let you find fault with that belly. It’s far too fat, anyway …’

  ‘That’s because he was such a marvellous cook! …’

  ‘Let’s go somewhere else,’ said Chloe. ‘I don’t want to do any more window-shopping. I don’t like it so much now.’

  ‘What shall we do then?’ said Colin. ‘Shall we have some tea somewhere?’

  ‘Oh! … It isn’t tea-time … Anyway, I prefer coffee.’ Colin, relieved, took a deep breath, and his braces snapped.

  ‘What was that funny noise?’

  ‘I trod on a dead twig,’ said Colin, blushing.

  ‘How about a walk in the park?’ said Chloe.

  Colin looked at her, delighted.

  ‘That’s a marvellous idea. There won’t be anyone about.’

  This time Chloe blushed.

  ‘That’s not why I suggested it. Anyway,’ she added as a form of revenge, ‘we won’t go off the pathways. We don’t want to get our feet wet.’

  He lightly increased the pressure on the arm he could feel beneath his own.

  ‘Let’s go through the subway,’ he said.

  The subway had rows of enormous aviaries on each side. This was where the Civic Controllers stored their spare pigeons for Public Squares and Monuments. There were also resting places for weary sparrows, nesting places for rearing sparrows, and testing places for cheering sparrows. People did not often stop in these parts because the wings of all those birds made a tremendous draught like a whirlwind full of whizzing blue and white feathers.

  ‘Don’t they ever sit still?’ said Chloe, holding down her hat to prevent that flying away too.

  ‘It isn’t always like this,’ said Colin.

  He was struggling with the tail of his overcoat.

  ‘Let’s hurry and get past the pigeons – the sparrows don’t create so much breeze,’ said Chloe, pressing closer against Colin.

  They hurried along and escaped from the danger zone. The little cloud had not followed them. It had taken a short cut and was sitting waiting for them at the other end.

  14

  The bench was dark green and felt slightly damp. Despite their fears the path was not a very busy one and they were snug and undisturbed there.

  ‘You don’t feel cold?’ said Colin.

  ‘No, not with this cloud round us,’ said Chloe. ‘But … I’d like to get even closer to you, all the same.’

  ‘Oh! …’ said Colin, and he blushed.

  It gave him a strange sensation. He put his arm round Chloe’s waist. Her hat was perched on the other side of her head and beneath his lips he had an ocean of lustrous hair.

  ‘I like being with you,’ he said.

  Chloe said nothing. She breathed a little faster and by slow degrees drew imperceptibly closer to him.

  Colin was whispering close into her ear.

  ‘You’re not bored?’

  She shook her head, and Colin took advantage of this to move in still closer.

  ‘I …’ he said, as close to her ear as possible, and, at this very moment, as if by mistake, she turned her head and Colin found he was kissing her lips. It did not last very long; but the second time it was much, much better. Then he buried his face in her hair, and they stayed like that, without saying another word.

  15

  ‘It’s nice of you to come, Alyssum,’ said Colin. ‘But you’re going to be the only girl …’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ said Alyssum. ‘Chick’s agreed.’

  Chick nodded. But, to tell the truth, Alyssum’s voice was not altogether gay.

  ‘Chloe isn’t in Paris,’ said Colin. ‘She’s gone away for three weeks to see some relations in the country …’

  ‘You must be feeling very lonely,’ said Chick.

  ‘I’ve never been happier in my life!’ said Colin. ‘I wanted to tell you that we’ve got engaged …’

  ‘Congratulations!’ said Chick, being careful not to look at Alyssum.

  ‘What’s the matter with you two?’ said Colin. ‘It looks as if something’s wrong.’

  ‘Nothing’s the matter,’ said Alyssum. ‘It’s only that Chick is so stupid.’

  ‘I’m not,’ said Chick. ‘Don’t take any notice of her, Colin … Nothing’s wrong.’

  ‘You’re both saying the same thing, and yet you don’t agree,’ said Colin, ‘therefore one of you – or both of you, perhaps – must be lying. Come on, the meal’s ready. Let’s go straight in and eat it.’

  They went into the dining-room.

  ‘Sit down, Alyssum,’ said Colin. ‘Sit down next to me and then you can tell me all your troubles.’

  ‘Chick’s stupid,’ said Alyssum. ‘He says it’s wrong to keep me with him because he hasn’t got the money to look after me properly, and yet he’s ashamed of not marrying me.’

  ‘I’m a bastard,’ said Chick.

  ‘I don’t know what to say to you,’ said Colin.

  He was so happy that this grieved him more than it would have done at any other time.

  ‘It certainly isn’t the money,’ said Chick. ‘It’s Alyssum’s parents who don’t want me to marry her – and they’ll get their way. There’s a story like that in one of Heartre’s books.’

  ‘It’s a fabulous book,’ said Alyssum. ‘Have you read it, Colin?’

  ‘Isn’t that just like you!’ said Colin. ‘That’s where the real trouble is. I’m sure all your money still goes on old Heartre.’

  Chick and Alyssum let their noses dangle in shame.

  ‘Only mine,’ said Chick. ‘Alyssum doesn’t spend anything on Heartre any more. She hardly gives him a thought now that’s she’s living with me.’

  There was a certain element of rep
roach in his tone.

  ‘I like you better than Heartre,’ said Alyssum.

  She was nearly in tears.

  ‘You’re sweet,’ said Chick, ‘and I don’t deserve you. But collecting Heartre is my only vice – and, as an engineer, unfortunately I can’t afford to have more than one.’

  ‘You’re breaking my heart,’ said Colin. ‘Let’s hope all your worries will sort themselves out. Undo your serviettes.’

  Under Chick’s there was a copy of Vomition bound in polecat and skunk, and under Alyssum’s a wide gold ring in the shape of a nausea.

  ‘Oh! …’ gasped Alyssum.

  She put her arms round Colin’s neck and kissed him.

  ‘You’re a pal,’ said Chick. ‘I don’t know how I can say thanks. Anyway, you know perfectly well that I can’t possibly thank you in the way I’d like …’

  Colin was beginning to feel slightly better. And Alyssum was really beautiful that evening.

  ‘What perfume are you wearing?’ he said. ‘Chloe uses one made from essence of double-distilled orchids.’

  ‘None at all,’ said Alyssum.

  ‘It’s natural,’ said Chick.

  ‘It’s terrific! …’ said Colin. ‘It’s like the breeze in a forest – a forest filled with streams and squirrels and strange playful little animals.’

  ‘Talk to us about Chloe! …’ said Alyssum, flattered.

  Nicholas brought in the hors d’oeuvres.

  ‘Hallo, Nicholas,’ said Alyssum. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine,’ said Nicholas.

  He put the plate on the table.

  ‘Aren’t you going to kiss me?’ said Alyssum.

  ‘Be my guest, Nicholas,’ said Colin. ‘You’d make me very happy if you’d come and have dinner with us …’

  ‘Oh! Do …’ said Alyssum. ‘Come and eat with us.’

  ‘Mr Colin plunges me into confusion, sir,’ said Nicholas. ‘I can hardly sit down at Mr Colin’s table in these clothes …’

  ‘Listen, Nicholas,’ said Colin. ‘Hurry off and change if you must – but I’m giving you orders to come and have dinner with us.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Colin, sir,’ said Nicholas. ‘I’ll go and change then.’

  He left the plate on the table and went out. ‘Now,’ said Alyssum, ‘tell us about Chloe …’

  ‘Help yourselves,’ said Colin. ‘I don’t know what it is, but it’s bound to be good.’

  ‘Tell us about Chloe! …’ screamed Chick. ‘Our tongues are hanging out!’

  ‘I’m going to marry Chloe in a month from today,’ said Colin. ‘And, oh, I wish it were going to be tomorrow! …’

  ‘You’re so lucky!’ said Alyssum.

  Colin felt happy that he was so rich.

  ‘Listen, Chick,’ he said. ‘Would you like some of my money?’

  Alyssum looked at Colin with great tenderness. He was so nice that you could see the blue and mauve thoughts running through the veins on the backs of his hands.

  ‘I couldn’t accept it,’ said Chick.

  ‘You’d be able to marry Alyssum,’ said Colin.

  ‘Her parents don’t want us to,’ replied Chick, ‘and I don’t want her to quarrel with them. Besides, she’s too young …’

  ‘I’m not as young as all that,’ said Alyssum, suddenly sitting up straight on the quilted seat and bringing out the full value of her provocative breasts.

  ‘That’s not what he meant! …’ interrupted Colin. ‘Listen, Chick. I’ve got a hundred thousand doublezoons. I’ll give you a quarter and then you’ll be able to live in peace. You can carry on working – and like that, things should work out fine.’

  ‘I’ll never be able to thank you enough,’ said Chick.

  ‘Don’t thank me,’ said Colin. ‘I’m not interested in the happiness of all men, but only in the happiness of each.’ The door bell rang.

  ‘I’ll go and see who it is,’ said Alyssum, ‘I’m the youngest! Remember you were just complaining about it …’

  She got up and her little feet skimmed the surface of the carpet.

  It was Nicholas. He had gone down the fire escape and had come back dressed in a thick fawn and green sporran-spun herringbone tweed overcoat and a flat doughboy stetson. He had gloves of disinherited pigskin, and shoes made of solid snakeskin. When he took off his overcoat he appeared in all his splendour. His corduroy jacket was in rich chestnut with ivory furrows, and he wore it over essoblue trousers with five-and-a-half-inch turnups.

  ‘Oh!’ said Alyssum. ‘How smart you are! …’

  ‘And how’s my little niece? Just as lovely as ever? …’ His hands roamed over her breasts and bottom.

  ‘Come and sit down,’ said Alyssum.

  ‘Hallo, boys,’ said Nicholas as he came in.

  ‘At last!’ said Colin. ‘So you’ve finally decided to talk like everybody else!’

  ‘Of course!’ said Nicholas. ‘I can do it when I want to. And while we’re at it, shall we kick all the other formalities down the fire escape too? …’

  ‘Of course,’ said Colin. ‘Sit down.’

  Nicholas sat down facing Chick.

  ‘Help yourself to hors d’oeuvres,’ said Chick.

  ‘Now,’ said Colin, ‘would you like to be my best man, Chick? And Nicholas, would you like to give Chloe away?’

  ‘We’d love to,’ beamed Nicholas. ‘But don’t try to match us up with any horrible bridesmaids. People are always trying to do that …’

  ‘We’re going to ask Alyssum and Isis to be bridesmaids,’ said Colin, ‘and the Kissitwell brothers to be fairies of honour.’

  ‘Then it’s all settled,’ said Chick.

  ‘Alyssum,’ Nicholas went on, ‘go to the kitchen and bring in the dish that’s in the oven. It should be ready by now.’

  She did as she was told and came back with a massive silver plate. And when Chick lifted the cover, they found underneath it two little figures carved from pâté de foie gras representing Colin in a top-hat and Chloe as a bride. All round the edge was written the date of the wedding and in a corner was the artist’s signature – Nicholas.

  16

  Colin sprinted through the streets.

  ‘It’s going to be a lovely wedding … And it’s tomorrow – tomorrow morning. And all my friends are going to be there …’

  The street led straight to Chloe.

  ‘Chloe, your lips are honey. Your complexion is peaches. Your eyes see things as we all should see them. Your body makes me feel warm …’

  Glass marbles careered through the streets with children behind them.

  ‘It will take months and months for your kisses to quench the thirst they have inspired in me. It will take years and years to extinguish the kisses I want to shower over you – on your hands, on your hair, on your eyes, on the nape of your neck …’

  There were three little girls in the street. They were singing a very round round and dancing to it in a triangle.

  ‘Chloe, I want to feel your breasts against my chest, with my two hands wrapped round you, your arms about my neck, your perfumed head in the hollow of my shoulder, and your palpitating skin and the scent of your body …’

  The sky was blue and brilliant. The cold was still biting, but not quite so deeply. The trees, still deep black, displayed fat green buds at the tips of their lack-lustre limbs.

  ‘When you are far from me, I see you in that dress with the silver buttons – but were you wearing it then? No, not the first time! You had it on the day we went out, under your soft heavy coat, but nothing under the dress …’ He pushed open the shop door and went in. ‘I’d like masses and masses of flowers for Chloe, please,’ he said.

  ‘When would you like them delivered?’ asked the florist. She was a frail young girl with raw red hands. She loved flowers very much.

  ‘Take them round tomorrow morning – and then bring some to me. I want our room to be full of white flowers – lilies, gladioli, roses and everything else that is white – and, right in the middle, an e
normous bunch of red roses.’

  17

  The Kissitwell brothers were getting themselves ready for the wedding. They were often asked to be pansy page-boys because their appearance always added a fragrant charm to such occasions. They were twins. The name of the eldest was Coriolanus. He had wavy black hair, soft white skin, an air of virginity, the straightest of noses and blue eyes that sheltered behind heavy lids of creamy amber.

  The youngest was called Pegasus, and looked very much like his brother, except that his eyelids were emerald green – and this was usually quite enough for people to tell one from the other. They had taken up homosexuality as a career because they had a vocation for it, and also because they needed the money. But, as they were being so well-paid for being pansy page-boys, they hardly worked seriously any more, and the noxious idleness that this thrust upon them drove them into the clutches of vice from time to time. And thus it was that, only yesterday, Coriolanus had behaved very naughtily with a little girl, Pegasus was lecturing him furiously, while massaging himself with rose-hip syrup (made from male bushes) in front of a big three-sided mirror.

  ‘And what time did you get home last night, I’d like to know?’ said Pegasus.

  ‘I forget,’ said Coriolanus. ‘And don’t stick your fat bottom into places that don’t concern you!’

  Coriolanus plucked at his eyebrows with pressurized tweezers.

  ‘You’re obscene!’ said Pegasus. ‘And with a girl too! … What would auntie say if she found out! …’

  ‘Oh! … Haven’t you ever stayed out late for a bit of fun then? Eh?’ said Coriolanus, accusingly.

  ‘When, I should like to know?’ said Pegasus – the first signs of a little anxious frown beginning to appear all the same.

  He stopped his auto-massage and began his slimming limbering-up exercises in front of the glass.

  ‘All right,’ said Coriolanus, ‘I won’t persecute you. I don’t want to drive you back to where you came from. Come and zip up my pantees for me instead.’

  They had specially made trousers with the flies up the back and they were difficult to do up alone.

  ‘There!’ sneered Pegasus, ‘You see! You can’t talk!’

  ‘All right, that’s enough!’ repeated Coriolanus. ‘Whose wedding are we going to today?’