“Anguish. Just anguish. The point of the pike in the scrotum …”
“You need a little reassurance, Hugh. That’s all.”
“Take my wife and give me reassurance … But it’s no good, boy, no good.”
“Hugh,” I said and moved another few steps, “let me tick off the possibilities. OK?”
“There’s nothing you can say. Nothing.”
“First of all, if you insisted on having Fiona to yourself, at least for a while, she would agree. She wouldn’t like it, but she would be willing to go against her better judgment, if you insisted. And Catherine would understand. And so would I, despite the inconvenience and despite the fact that Catherine and I have already decided against that kind of indulgence for ourselves. That’s how it would be. It could happen, but it won’t. We both know it won’t.”
“Don’t suggest it, boy. My God …”
“Or suppose you were sentimental enough to disappear, as you put it. In that case you’d be deserting Catherine, the children would suffer, Fiona would send me off to bring you back. This isn’t going to happen either.”
“So I don’t count. Don’t count at all.”
“Or suppose we just continue on as we are, and Fiona’s right about the two of you. If it turns out she’s made a real mistake in you, she’ll get along. No one is more self-reliant than Fiona.”
“I know that, boy.”
“But if I changed my mind, if I told Catherine you’re hopelessly stubborn, vindictive and all the rest of it, and that from now on she and I wouldn’t be having any more little sex-songs, not even once in a while — what then?”
“She’ll thank you. So will I.”
“Think what would happen,” I said quietly. “Catherine would never trust either one of us again. She would never forgive you. She would never forgive me. I’d never hear the end of it from Fiona. You’d never know when Catherine and I might let go of ourselves and start the whole thing over again. Catherine would never forget what you did to her tonight. Your own sex life would be destroyed. Fiona wouldn’t be able to bear the sight of you. Our wives would brood. You and I would always be embarrassed. We wouldn’t be able to explain ourselves. We wouldn’t be able to clear the air. You wouldn’t sleep. I wouldn’t sleep. The children wouldn’t understand our silence. How long could it last? But why? All because of a few words from you? Just because you can’t condone a little extra sweetness between Catherine and me?”
“You’ve got your manhood … Let me have mine …”
“It’s one thing to deny Fiona. Fiona is strong. But it’s something else again to try to tether your own wife the first time her natural instincts reach out to another man. Your rancid feelings are an affront to her harmless awakening. Do you think I’d ever treat Fiona the way you’re treating Catherine? Don’t you understand that Catherine won’t be able to forgive what you did tonight unless I’m able to persuade her to? Can’t you see that it will take the two of us, and Fiona as well? You need me. You need Fiona. But even if you had your own way, do you think it would help? Do you think you’d be able to forget the past? Catherine’s body, my body, as you imagine them? What you think you hate, already exists — in two forms, yours and mine. If I swore off Catherine, your idea of what we’ve done together would go on snagging your inventiveness forever. So what good would it do? Your only hope is to understand at least something of my version of what’s been happening. And if you can accept the past, and I think you can, then you won’t have any reason to destroy the present.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking, boy. You couldn’t.”
“Besides,” I said slowly, “I’m not going to let you destroy it.”
Within arm’s length of each other? Trapped at last? Hugh listening to reason? Wiping wet beard and wet head of hair with the back of his hand? The empty bench, the empty settee, the darkness in which we faced each other, the sand like powdered bone, the clusters of invisible and uneaten grapes, the nearby sea, the silent villas, our two wives waiting for something or nothing out there in the night — standing quietly in front of Hugh I was aware of it all and of how little I was asking and how much it meant Catherine accepting a few roses, Fiona smiling, Hugh rid of his unhappy load, I spared any further need to talk us out of our blue moods and free, disinterested, enjoying myself — why not? Why shouldn’t it be? But Hugh was no longer dodging me and gulping air. Hugh was as close to me as I was to him. Perhaps there was already no further need to talk.
“If you think I don’t know what you’re feeling,” I said, “you’re wrong.”
“Don’t touch me. Keep your hands to yourself.”
“Of course Fiona can be hurt like anyone else.”
“What does Catherine sec in you anyway?”
“What’s Fiona see in you?”
“I’m not worth it, boy. Not worth it.”
“Fiona feels otherwise, that’s all.”
“Maybe I’m too damn idealistic. What do you think?”
“Fiona’s idealistic. She’s just as idealistic as you are. That’s why this impasse of yours is so unfortunate.”
“I’m losing out all around, don’t you see?”
“Fiona’s idealism isn’t prohibitive. It’s receptive. It doesn’t preclude sexual affection. It starts with it. That’s the difference. Everything she feels for you is genuine. She has a lot more to regret than you do.”
“I’ve deprived myself of the wife of a man who’s already taken mine. That’s plenty to regret. Plenty.”
“Shout if you want to. But stop hissing at me, Hugh. You don’t need to hiss.”
“Your lust is fulfilled. My lust isn’t. And between your lust and mine I’m going up in smoke, burning away.”
“You don’t feel any lust for Fiona. The idea’s ridiculous.”
“How do you know what I feel, boy? How?”
“I’ve seen the way you look at her. I’ve heard you laugh. I’ve seen her hand on your knee. I’ve seen your exhilaration. You’ve been pretty good to Fiona, as far as you’ve gone.”
“She’s on my mind. You and Catherine are on my mind.”
“Anyway, I have never experienced simple lust. You haven’t either. But of course there’s nothing wrong with lust if there’s nothing else. Fiona has known a few purely lustful men. But you’re not one of them, Hugh. Believe me. As a matter of fact, if it turned out you were, she might be pleased. But you don’t even feel any real lust for your peasant nudes.”
“Listen, you’re trying to force me into your bed so you can stay in mine.”
“If you manage to benefit from this discussion,” I said slowly, “the four of us will be better off. I won’t deny it. On the other hand, if you don’t learn anything from this talk of ours, if you can’t free yourself from these crippling fantasies, naturally your dissatisfaction is going to rub off on the rest of us. I won’t deny that either. Your clenched teeth would spoil anybody’s idyls. Darkness can come to Illyria. It’s possible. But even so, Catherine and I will continue to meet alone together just as frequently as we’ve been meeting until now. We will continue because of the clear emotional basis of our relationship. We will not stop because of the reasons I’ve already given you. Harmony is something all four of us can enjoy. I’d like to see Fiona happy. But that’s your affair. Catherine’s fondness for me is mine. It can’t be changed.”
“There’s always the belt. There’s always that damn chastity belt …”