For a moment I am so taken aback by her genuine anger that I start to think she did not know, and that I have accused her wrongly, and my brain instinctively scrambles to apologize, but her next words make me realize that she is not angry because I accused her, but because I have dared to question the ways of her precious bloodline.
Her voice is abruptly and disconcertingly quiet and mild. ‘There is a tribe in Asia, untouched by Western influence,’ she pauses to smile sarcastically. ‘Something you, no doubt, will advocate preserving. The custom of this tribe is that when the husband comes home from a hard day’s hunting, he puts down his hunting accouterments, and goes up the steps of his wooden house to call to his daughter—usually she will be very young, less than ten, perhaps even five or less. When he calls her, she knows what he wants of her and she will go to him and lie down, usually in the main room where everyone can see what is going on. He will open her small legs, and right there in front of his wife and all his other children, he will put his mouth between her legs and he will suck.’
She stops to savor my unconcealed horror. ‘Often while he is drinking from her innocent little pussy, she will be drinking from her milk bottle.’
I stare at her in shock. Is she telling the truth?
‘You don’t believe me?’ she challenges. ‘Go look it up.’ Her face morphs into a hard, cold mask. ‘Mind you, only the father has this privilege. This act, no matter what it may seem like to your education and understanding, has no sexual connotation to it at all. It is done to strengthen the man. As the girl grows and becomes a woman, the practice is no longer considered strengthening and is discarded. But the girl will carry fond memories of the times she has ‘helped’ her father. After all, it must be a rather pleasant exchange.’
She pauses, and, picking up a pair of chopsticks, reaches for and expertly captures the dried shrimp and corn wrapped in cha phlu leaves. ‘Will you be the intrepid woman who will go and inform this tribe that what they are doing is shameful and barbaric?’
I swallow hard, bereft of words.
‘No? And yet you are happy to sit here and lecture me on the barbaric nature of our ways and our rituals.’
This woman is truly a master at mind games. Every time I think I have her cornered, I find that I am the one in the corner. ‘If these girls remember their encounters as fond memories then how can they be compared to what happened to Blake? He still suffers from awful nightmares.’
‘I am surprised at you. What kind of woman encourages her husband to be weak?’
A bark of laugher erupts from me. ‘Weak?’
‘Children have nightmares about their visits to the dentist. Would you have them not visit the dentist?’
I throw my hands in the air in exasperation. I feel as if I am caught in the twilight zone. This woman is totally nuts. I stand up. ‘I’m going. Thanks for the tea.’
She remains seated. ‘I am leaving tomorrow, but I will see you in Belgium for the July ball. It is our most important gathering. Blake will want to “introduce you”, I’m sure.’
I look her in the eye. ‘I won’t be going.’
For the first time I see that I have confounded her. She did not expect that. It never crossed her mind that anyone would refuse such an important invitation. I take the milk jug and pour the milk back into the bowl. Then I place it on the ground.
‘Here, Constable. Here, boy,’ I call. The little dog jumps up from its prone position and runs toward the bowl. I straighten and she is watching me. Her mouth is a thin line, her jaw is tight.
‘Goodbye, Helena. I don’t think we’ll ever meet again.’
‘Don’t think you can keep Blake from the gathering.’
‘Blake is welcome to go. That will be his decision.’
‘You’re making a mistake, a big mistake.’
‘I don’t think so,’ I say quietly, and leave her room. I take the lift and go back to our suite. I feel so odd, so small. At our suite Blake is waiting for me. He takes me into his arms.
‘How did it go?’
‘It went exactly as you thought it would.’
‘I’m sorry. I know you wanted it to go well.’
‘It was silly of me to think it would go any other way. I am the worst person you could have married, aren’t I?’
He grins. ‘It would have been worse if I had married Billie.’
That makes me giggle. ‘Do you know she said Billie’s neck looked like the wall of a public lavatory?’
One side of his lips lift, as his heart-stopping, long lashes sweep down. ‘That’s mother for you.’
‘Joking aside, she really hates me, doesn’t she?’
‘She doesn’t hate you. She is jealous of you. She’d give up all her money and privilege to be you.’
‘Me?’
‘Everything you take for granted, the apple-like tightness of your cheeks, the firmness of your body, the light in your eyes. They are a cause of great envy for those who have passed that stage.’
‘How sad that we all have to grow old.’
He looks into my eyes. ‘I’ve ordered you high tea.’
I frown. ‘You have?’
‘Hmm…’ He takes me by the hand to the dining table. It is laid out with a proper English tea. Finger sandwiches, scones, cream, raspberry jam, cakes.
I look at him and feel like bursting into tears.
‘You knew she’d do that.’
‘I didn’t know. I guessed. But I had to let you try.’
‘Oh, my darling,’ I ramble. ‘I love you so much nobody even knows how much because that’s just how much I love you.’
‘OK,’ he agrees with a wide grin.
Ten
Victoria Jane Montgomery
‘Hello, Mummy,’ I greet softly.
‘Hello, dahhling,’ she witters excitedly, and coming forward, grasps my shoulders and kisses both my cheeks soundly. Her blue eyes are crinkled at the corners, but deep within them I see something disconcerting. It is not I but she who is dancing on the edge of madness.
‘How are you?’ she asks, her voice still an untamed shriek.
My mother and I have never been close, but I can see now that she can be my most useful ally. I smile my sweetest smile at her. ‘I feel fine.’
‘I thought it was going to be a horrible day, but hasn’t it turned out so lovely?’
Of course. The weather. She is talking about the weather as if I am a stranger that she has met at the village bakery. Very English. Sure. I can do that. I turn toward the window. The sun is shining. ‘Yes, you are right, it is a beautiful morning.’
My mother’s right hand floats uncertainly up toward her face and suddenly she seems a pitiful creature. ‘Are they treating you well?’
‘Yes, everyone is very nice.’
‘Oh good.’ She sighs, and appears relieved.
‘How is Daddy?’
‘Well, he misses you, of course. He can’t wait for when you are better, when you will be allowed to return,’ she says brightly.
‘When do you think that will be, mother?’
Mother blinks uncertainly. She honestly reminds me of a deer caught in headlights. ‘Well, as soon as you are better, my dear.’
Ah, no time soon then, but she is still speaking.
‘Don’t worry about that now. Just get better quickly. Take all your medicines and do everything the doctors tell you, can’t you? You’ll be home in the blink of an eye. Come and stay with us for a while. I’ve never liked the idea of you staying alone in that flat in London, anyway.’
‘Yes, that’s a good idea. I will.’
She smiles, pleased at the thought of me staying with them. ‘Would you like me to bring you anything the next time I come?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I’d like to read some of the books you read.’
Mummy frowns. ‘But I only read romances.’
‘Yes, they will do nicely.’