When we were back in our room, I slipped away to the bathroom. Although my period was continuing, I put in my diaphragm to halt the bleeding temporarily.
In bed, you wanted to talk about Niall again, but I deflected you. There was nothing I could say to make amends. I held you, kissed you, tried to arouse you. At first you resisted me, but I knew what I wanted. The evening was warm again and we were lying on top of the covers, the elderly double bed creaking as we moved around. You responded at last, and I felt my own arousal growing. I wanted to make love to you more excitingly than ever before, and I kissed and fondled you with great intimacy; I loved your body, the solidity of it and its hard curves.
We rolled over so that you were above me, and now you were caressing me with your hands and tongue. I raised my parted knees, ready for you—but you appeared to change your mind, and rolled to the side. I felt your hands pulling me around against you, pushing my shoulders down against your chest. I wanted you inside me, but your hands pulled my rear away from you, twisting my haunches awkwardly. We were kissing mouth to mouth, and I could not understand what you were wanting to do. Your fingers were digging into the flesh of my hips, thrusting me away. Then I realized that both your hands were on my breasts, lightly fingering my nipples. Other hands were reaching from behind, pulling at my hips! Suddenly, with a pushing intrusion, I was entered from behind. Pubic hair prickled against my buttocks. I gasped, turned my head, felt an unshaven chin beat into the curve of my neck, and knees kicked into the crook of mine. The weight of the man behind me thrust me forward against you, and one of your hands slipped down towards my crotch. I grabbed your wrist to stop you finding what was already there, and in desperation brought your hand up to my mouth to kiss it. Niall’s sexual pushing against me was violent, making me gasp in outrage. You were growing more excited, wanting to enter me. I had to stop you somehow, and so I curled away from the man behind me, pushing my backside more acutely against him in a desperate effort to twist free, and at the same time took you into my mouth to suck. Niall shifted position, moving forward so that he was kneeling between my legs, his hands under my belly and holding me while he rammed. His movements grew more urgent, and he put one of his hands on my head, taking a handful of my hair and wrenching it painfully, pushing my mouth farther down on you. I began gagging. You were lying back, your arms somewhere away from me, while the rape went on. I could barely breathe, but I was swinging my elbows upward and back, trying to beat Niall away from me. I managed to get you out of my mouth, but my face was still being pushed into your groin. I heard you groaning with pleasure, while Niall hammered unrelentingly at me. I felt him climaxing, and he grunted audibly, expelling breath noisily. You said my name, your voice full of desire for me. Niall slumped forward across my back, releasing my hair and playing his hands across my breasts. As he relaxed I was able to shift my weight, but I couldn’t wriggle him out of me. He was still there, monstrously possessing me, his weight forcing my face down against you. You said my name again, wanting to make love. I managed to turn my face to see you; your eyes were closed, your mouth was open. I had to get Niall out of me, but I was pinned beneath him. Jabs with my elbows had no effect; his frantic breathing was close by my ear. I could feel him softening inside me, so I made another effort to twist my hips, raising my body as I did so. This time I managed to slide away from him, but he was still there holding on to me. I elbowed him again, and he loosened his grip on me. As soon as I could I crawled across your body, hugging your chest, bringing my face to yours. You kissed me with great passion, and pulled me over you. I could feel Niall beside us on the bed, some part of him pressing against my side.
You entered me at last, and we made love. There was no pleasure in it for me, just relief that it was you, not Niall. Because I was squatting above you, we were looking at each other. I kept my face rigid, knowing that if I tried to respond to you my true feelings would be revealed. All I could do was move my body with yours, hoping it would be enough. Niall was still there; I could feel the warmth of his body against my lower leg.
How could you not be aware of him? Was Niall so profoundly invisible to you that you could not hear him, smell him, not feel his weight on the bed, not react to the violent contortions he had forced on me?
As soon as you had finished I lay beside you, and we pulled the sheet over us. I whispered that I was tired, and we lay in each other’s arms with the light out. I waited and waited as your breathing steadied and you fell into sleep. When I was sure I would not disturb you, I slipped out of the bed and went to the bathroom. I showered as quietly as I could, scrubbing myself clean.
When I returned, the room smelled of French tobacco smoke.
XIV
In the morning, I said to you, “Do you remember the puzzle that used to be printed in children’s books?”
I took a piece of paper, and made two marks:
X O
“If you close your left eye,” I said, “and look with your right eye at the cross, then move your face closer to the paper, the nought seems to vanish.”
You said, That’s a physical failure of the eye. The retina has only a limited amount of peripheral vision.
I said, “But the brain compensates for what the eye cannot see. It’s not as if the nought has actually been removed—there’s no hole in the paper. You think you can still see the paper where the nought was.”
You said, What are you getting at?
I said to you, “Imagine that you are invited to a party where almost everyone else is a stranger. You enter the room where they are standing around. The people are drinking, smoking, talking. No one greets you, and you feel self-conscious. Your main awareness is the sense of a crowd. No one person stands out from the others. You take a drink and stand at the edge of the room, looking at the people, hoping to see a familiar face. You see someone you recognize, and although he or she is talking to someone else and doesn’t come over to you, you notice them in preference to anyone else.
“You are still on your own, so you look at the other people. The ones you notice now are probably the women, making quick judgments of their appearance and whether or not they are alone. If they are with men, you will notice them too. Eventually someone speaks to you, and that person then becomes the center of your attention. Later on you will single out other people for closer notice, and then you will concentrate on each of them in turn. There might be a man who is very drunk, a girl in a sexy dress, someone who laughs too loudly. As you speak to other people, they enter your sphere of immediate awareness. The other people, the ones you have not yet spoken to or specifically noticed, will remain in your awareness, but only in a general or peripheral sense.
“During this, you will gradually become aware of other things in the room: the food and drink, obviously. There might be a domestic animal, which you see. You will notice houseplants. You will see the furniture and carpet. In the end, you might even notice how the room itself has been decorated.
“Every object and every person in the room is visible to you, but there is an unconscious order in which you become aware of them.
“Always, at every party, there will be someone you never notice.”
I said to you, “Now, suppose you are at another gathering of people you do not know. There are ten men and one woman. As you enter the room the woman, who is beautiful and voluptuous, starts to dance and remove her clothes. As soon as she is naked you leave the room. How many of the men would you be able to describe afterward? Would you even be sure there were ten of them, and not nine, or an eleventh you did not notice at all?”