The Girl in a Swing

but a gift. Sometimes we are mysteriously empowered to

  enter the presence of the god: sometimes we cannot, but

  remain fluttering up and down an impenetrable sheet of

  glass while the sun shines on outside. Thou wilt never come

  for pity, thou wilt come for pleasure. Since the concert began

  I had been growing towards the music. Kathe, from the outset,

  had entered straight into that better world as naturally

  as a hare into the fern.

  Orsino might not have been able to keep his mind on the

  music - he lacked, of course, the advantage of congenial cornpany

  - but I could all right. My capacity exceeded as the sea.

  My attention never wandered. I felt I was hearing everything

  98

  that Mozart wished me to hear - sometimes three or four

  things at once. The music and I seemed perfectly and

  accurately superimposed, and with this went the spontaneous

  emotional response of a child. There was a star

  danced and under that was I born.

  When the larghetto had closed in radiant simplicity and

  the orchestra began the poignant, minor variations of the last

  movement, I became aware of some change - some physical

  change - beside me. I glanced sidelong at Kathe. Without

  sound or movement, she was weeping. I laid a hand on her

  arm and she, blinking quickly, looked round at me with a

  little, self-deprecatory smile, then leaned over and whispered,

  'He is saying it has to end. Es muss sein.'

  After Mr Fou T'song had been duly clapped and cheered

  and had walked on and off the platform an appropriate

  number of times and shaken hands with Mr Haitink, the first

  violin and anybody else who happened to come in his sights,

  I asked Kathe whether she would care for a stroll and a

  drink. She shook her head, seemed about to speak and then

  leaned back, gently rubbing her shoulders from side to side

  against the back of her seat. At length she said, 'Do we

  need to go anywhere from here?'

  We talked of music in England and I told her about

  Glyndebourne and about the Festival Hall.

  'And you really can't hear the trains at all, only fifty metres

  outside?'

  'No. But inside you can hear every least sound. The proportions

  are beautiful, and the black-and-white boxes at the

  sides look rather like switch-back cars at a fair. They project,

  you know, one above another, rather like an opened chest-ofdrawers.'

  'Oh, I see. So very grand people can sit in the top ones,

  and people who are going to get married can sit in the bottorn

  ones?'

  I burst out laughing, as much from astonishment as amusement.

  'Kathe, however can you make idiomatic jokes so quickly,

  in a language that isn't yours?'

  99

  Oh - well, we say, you know,

  "Wenn scheint die helle Sonne,

  Dann ist das Leben Wonne."

  Can you translate that?'

  I translated,

  'When the bright sun is shining,

  Then life -' er - I suppose - 'is delight. Is pure delight.'

  'Well, there you are. It's my delight to make silly jokes

  when you're shining. But isn't there another famous concerthall

  in England?' she went on quickly, before I could reply.

  'I read about it, I think, in some magazine - made by a

  great English composer, where he lives? Only I forget the

  names."

  'Benjamin Britten. Snape. That's almost the best one of

  the lot. When the Aldeburgh festival's on, the entire district's

  given over to music - the town, the local village churches everywhere.

  Famous artists come from all over the world.

  It's like heaven on earth. If you were ever to come over -' I

  stopped, suddenly embarrassed.

  'Yes?' Laughing, she gave her bag a little toss from her

  lap and caught it again. 'Yes, Alan?'

  'Er - well - I was going to say, "If you were ever to come

  over I'd take you there." I mean, you know, I sometimes go

  in a party with friends.'

  'That would be nice,' she replied gravely. 'I'd love to come.'

  After the interval, Mr Haitink proceeded to give a musicianly

  account of Mendelssohn's Italian Symphony. The

  people on our left had gone, presumably being interested

  only in Fou T'song, and Kathe, taking advantage of this,

  moved her coat into the adjacent seat, added her bag to it

  and thus having, as it were, stripped for action, seemed to

  become - if that were possible - a yet more involved participant

  in her delighted response to the music. A very pretty

  rendering it was. The thrush shouted his head off in the first

  movement (so my father used to say) and the pilgrims

  tramped along in fine style in the second, but I could have

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  wished for something more demanding. I was all set to soar

  once more into the blue empyrean, but Mendelssohn was not

  going that far. He was decorating the salon, albeit in a style

  fit for a prince. Still, there's no bad music, and I wasn't cornplaining.

  Unexpectedly, I was greatly taken with the Janacek

  suite with which the concert ended. I had never heard it before,

  and the brilliant tone of the brass, in particular, seemed

  full of warmth and wit that to me, in my present mood, had

  Mendelssohn beat all the way. At the end I joined enthusiastically

  in the applause and cheering, half-hoping for some

  encore; but no such luck.

  Kathe, having stood up to let half a dozen people go past

  her into the aisle, sat down again and made no attempt to

  leave until the hall was nearly empty. At length she said,

  'And now - oh, dear! - we have to come back.'

  I answered, 'But at least with full pockets. Kathe, what a

  wonderful idea of yours! I've enjoyed it more than I can

  possibly tell you. Which did you like best?'

  'Oh, Alan, how can you ask?'

  'I shouldn't have asked. I agree with you. What now?

  Coffee? Food?'

  'Yes. Yes, for a little while. Oh, isn't it silly? Just imagine

  - we need food!'

  'And talk. You've had too little chance to talk so far.'

  'Am I such a chatterbox?'

  'A box where sweets compacted lie. Anyway, what I

  really meant is that so far I've had too little chance to listen

  while you talk.'

  'Well, then, I'll sing for your supper.'

  And throughout our modest supper (for I was really getting

  rather worried about money) at the nearest small restaurant,

  she talked, in her beautiful, smooth voice, of nothing - of

  K0benhavn, of her friends, of a holiday she had had last

  summer in Holland, of cooking, knitting and growing flowers.

  It was like bird-song. Since she was human there had to be

  words, but they did not really matter. I, listening, felt I could

  never have enough of it. I had asked her to talk and she was

  talking. There was no need to speak of the music, and she

  had the wit not to do so.

  101

  Suddenly she said, 'So - you saw me in Kongens Have

  yesterday evening?'

  'Yes. Unter der Linde.'

  'Then you must have seen Inge;
and the little girl too, I

  suppose?'

  'Well, I may have. I saw another grown-up girl with you,

  and I suppose that must have been Inge, but as I've never

  met Inge I can't say. I don't remember noticing any

  particular little girl, but of course there were quite a few

  about.'

  'Oh. Well, I had gone to Kongens Have with them.'

  'How old is Inge's little girl?'

  'Three - nearly four.'

  'I'd better get this straight, hadn't I? Inge's a friend of

  yours, presumably?'

  'She has the flat downstairs.'

  'And she's married?'

  'No.'

  'Oh, I see.' I smiled. 'She - er -just has a little girl?'

  'Yes.' She turned and called 'Tjener!'

  The waiter came and she asked him for more coffee. When

  she had put in the cream and sugar herself, stirred it and

  tasted it, she said, 'But there's someone who wants to marry

  her and she thinks she will have him.'

  'Oh, well, that's nice for her. You mean, not the little girl's

  father?'

  'No. Someone else.'

  'He doesn't mind taking the little girl as well?'

  'Should he?'

  'Well, no, of course not, but it's just that I don't think I'd

  like it particularly; in fact, I think I'd find it distinctly offputting.

  But I mean - you know - circumstances alter cases

  and all that, and I don't know Inge or the bloke, or even the

  little girl, if it comes to that. I hope they'll all be very happy.

  Let me know when you go to the wedding. I mean, if you

  write to me. I wanted to ask, Kathe, may I write to you, and

  if I do, will you reply?'

  'Vielleicht.' She paused; then, 'Oh, it's been such a beautiful

  evening. What a pity it has to end! Coming back - always

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  coming back. Well, I don't know about going to the wedding,

  but now I must go home.'

  'Why? It's not all that late. Do stay! I'll see you home,

  don't worry.'

  'No, I must go now. But you can walk me to the Always

  'bus.'

  As I helped her on with her coat, she caught my eye in a

  glass on the wall.

  'Alan, you're frowning! You look so serious. What is it?'

  'Sorry! Well, to tell you the truth, I was thinking about

  the Mozart concerto. That's rather a difficult first movement

  in some ways, don't you think?'

  'Is it? Warum?'

  'Well, I mean, it's not a regular sonata form, which makes

  it a shade hard to follow. But of course that might be one

  reason why I enjoyed it so much.'

  She turned round, her face lifted to mine - I can see it

  now - her lips apart. For an instant I thought she was going

  to kiss me. She seemed to be searching for words and I, a

  little startled, allowed her eyes to hold mine, unmoving as

  the proprietor brushed past us to hold the door open.

  'Can you follow a rose, Alan?'

  'Sorry?'

  'The sun shines and it blooms - and then after a time the

  petals fall. That's Seligkeit.'

  At the door she stopped to thank the proprietor and

  praise the restaurant. Outside she said again, 'Seligkeit. Oh,

  I shouldn't tease you, Alan. I've no manners, have I? You're

  so kind -'

  'Not me. You were looking in the glass. That was yourself

  you saw -'

  'Well, one day you shall teach me how to listen to music

  properly, the way you do. I've got no brains -'

  'Oh, yes, you have, but you don't need them. Wings are

  the thing.'

  '- Or else I wouldn't be an office girl at Hansen's -'

  'That's got nothing to do with it -'

  'Well, if I really had wings I'd fly a long way from here.

  Far away.'

  103

  'Do you know, during the concert tonight, while we were

  listening to the Mozart, you made me think of something a

  little like that, but not a bit sad, the way you're putting it.

  The music was like a sort of garden to you, wasn't it - your

  own garden? I know your English is just about perfect, but

  I bet you haven't heard this.'

  'What is it? Tell me.'

  I said, ' "Here at the fountain's sliding foot,

  Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root,

  Casting the body's vest aside

  My soul into the boughs does glide:

  There like a bird it sits, and sings,

  Then whets, and combs its silver wings;

  And, till prepared for longer flight,

  Waves in its plumes the various light." '

  Kathe gave a little cry of pleasure. 'Oh, how lovely! But

  why does she wet her wings? And what with?'

  I explained.

  'Ja, I see. I've watched them do that. You're an expert at

  listening to music, Alan, aren't you? It must be a wonderful

  tonata-form -'

  'Sonata form -'

  '- if it puts things like that into your head. How long ago

  was that written?'

  'Well - about three hundred years, I suppose. Bit more,

  perhaps.'

  'So long. And yet I know exactly how he felt. Oh -1 nearly

  forgot -1 want to keep the programme. Will you write something

  on it for me?'

  I thought for a moment and then wrote, 'Kathe. Thou wast

  not born for death, immortal bird. Alan' and the date. Holding

  it to the light of a shop-window, she read it aloud.

  'Well, if I really were a bird I would fly; but to prove I'm

  not, here's the 'bus coming.' She looked quickly in her bag

  and then asked, 'Alan, can you give me a polet to pay with?

  I don't seem to have one.'

  104

  IO

  BACK in the hotel room I kicked off my shoes, lay on the

  bed in my shirt-sleeves and forced myself to look at it

  squarely. It was no longer possible to deceive myself. If I

  were not in love, then no one had been in love since the

  world began. It reminded me of how, in folk tales, the hero,

  having taken every possible step to avoid fulfilling the prophecy,

  suddenly realizes that he has fulfilled it. Pride; leading

  inevitably to humiliation - that was about the size of it;

  and the humiliation was bitter. I saw now that hitherto I had

  always been protected against falling in love by an outer

  shell of pride. In effect, I had been too proud to share the

  common lot of mankind. I had preferred to opt out for fear of

  making a fool of myself, or of losing. Well, I was going to

  lose now all right. Before I met Kathe I could have taken my

  oath that no frivolous, flirtatious girl, whose idea of listening

  to music was an emotional trip, and who preferred chattering

  in the sunshine on the Cannon Tower to looking at

  some of the finest wood-carving in Europe, could have any

  appeal for me. Now, more than anything in the world - more

  even than all its pottery and porcelain - I wanted her cornpany.

  Yet, obviously, this was precisely what I was not going

  to be able to go on having. Time, work, money. I was simply

  playing the fool to no purpose. It had amused Kathe, for the

  past few days, to indulge my importunacy. Perhaps just in

  order to make someone else jealous? Besides, dinners, outings


  and concerts were pleasant in themselves. The longer it

  went on the more I was bound to suffer, for what was I

  but a limping Hephaistos, dealing not in metals and armour,

  but in no less sterile artifacts; tormenting himself with the

  company of a golden Aphrodite excelling in tricks worth two

  of his; who, for her amusement and the pleasure of his flattery,

  had tossed him a few perfumed flowers and treated him

  to an inkling of that blinding delight that was hers to bestow

  elsewhere? Come on, Alberich - you might as well come

  out of the Rhine now; there isn't even any gold to steal.

  105

  Tomorrow evening, after she left work, I would see her for

  no more than an hour, merely as a matter of courtesy and

  this time really to say good-bye. I would be controlled and

  cheerful. Then I would dine alone, go to bed and leave K0benhavn

  the next morning. Ich grolle nicht, und wenn das Herz

  auch bricht.

  'Never mind about a drink, Alan. Let's go and walk in 0rsteds

  Parken for a little while. We can be more alone, so.'

  We walked up Hammerichs Gade against the home-bound

  crowd making for the station, crossed Jarmers Plads and

  strolled up the east side of the little park as far as the statue

  of 0rsted with his electro-magnetic wires and batteries. Close

  by, a little lawn slopes steeply towards the lake below, and

  Kathe, taking my arm, turned and led me down across the

  grass. On our right a bed of tawny wallflowers, edged with

  forget-me-not, was already in bloom, and I remember how

  the scent reached us, coming and going on the warm evening

  air. Kathe, spreading her coat, sat down under a flowering

  cydonia, broke off a twig of the pink, waxy blooms and,

  pensive and silent, stroked her chin with the tip.

  I said, 'A bloom for a burin?'

  'What is that? A burin? I never heard.'

  'It's a sort of tool for engraving copper. But of course you'd

  need a softer one to engrave your chin, wouldn't you?'

  'Can you see what it is I'm engraving?'

  She traced the word 'Alan' lightly and invisibly across her

  cheek, then tossed the little spray down on the grass.

  'I'm sorry you have to go back, Alan. It was such a short

  time, wasn't it? Less than a week - it's seemed longer. But

  I do understand - you have your work to do and your mother

  and your home to look after.'

  'It's seemed longer to me, too. To tell you the truth, it's

  been something quite out of my experience. You're very different

  from the porcelain ladies on shelves that I usually have

  to do with.'

  She looked up, smiling. 'You buy and sell them, don't you?'

  106

  "Yes, except the ones I can't bear to part with.'

  'And those you add to your collection?'

  I thought of the glass-fronted cupboards full of Longton

  Hall and Chelsea, the Neale Four Seasons, the white Bow

  figures of Liberty and Matrimony. To possess them I had

  given more than I could afford. Now, in my mind's eye, they

  seemed artificial and lifeless, their grace as much contrived

  as that of musical boxes, each playing a single air over and

  over.

  'Well, I can understand them, you see.' It was an admission,

  not a claim.

  'You mean you don't understand me?'

  'Well, they're like flowers - they keep still to be admired.

  You're more like a bird -'

  She laughed. 'What bird?'

  I considered. 'D'you know the Eisvogel? She flashes down

  the river in a streak of blue, and you just have time to think

  "How wonderful!" before she's gone.'

  'But you're the one who's going.' She stood up; and as I

  got to my feet beside her went on, with downcast eyes, 'Well,

  I shall miss you, Alan. I hope you'll come back some day.'

  'Oh, but there must be lots of people -' I stopped, simply

  because I couldn't bear to go on. Putting on an act to part

  from her was one thing. The thought of those other, unknown

  men, able, as I was not, to tread her measure, was

  another.

  'Let's walk down to the lake,' she said.

  But just by the Sliberen bronze on the edge of the lawn

  she stopped, frowning, as though trying to remember something

  that would not quite return to mind.

  'What is it, Kathe? Not something at the office, I hope?'

  'Nein, nein.' She sat down again, and I too. 'You're not

  the only one who knows beautiful poetry. Only I can't remember

  it as well as you.'

  'Never mind. Have a go.'

  'It's Heine. I had to learn it once at school, to sing.

  "Wie des Mondes Abbild zittert

  In den wilden Meereswogen,

  107

  Und er selber still und sicher

  Wandelt an dem Himmelsbogen:

  "Also wandelst du, Geliebte,

  Still und sicher, und es zittert