Angelica's Grotto

22 Third Session

‘My inner voice,’ said Klein, ‘it spoke. Oannes said a word.’

‘What was the word?’ said Dr DeVere.

‘“Gone”. I’d been talking to myself about how this was a bad time and I was remembering a good time when Hannelore and I went to the Royal Festival Hall for Die Schöpfung. That’s when he said, “Gone,” which of course they are — Hannelore and the good time both.’

‘Try to remember as precisely as you can: where was this voice coming from?’

‘From me, the same as it used to. I could feel the word in my throat.’

‘From inside your head, not from outside?’

‘Look, Doc, I’m not crazy. When I say that Oannes spoke I mean that that part of me spoke, OK?’

‘What did you think when you heard that word?’

‘I was wondering if he, if I was telling myself that I had nothing good to look forward to.’

‘And after that thought?’

‘After that I saw in my mind the Noah’s ark I lost as a child.’

‘Can you remember how you lost it?’

‘No.’

‘Did you ever find it?’

‘No. All I can remember is the smell of the cellar and the darkness and that big black boiler I thought the Noah’s ark had fallen behind. I kept looking for it and it was never there.’

‘Gone.’

‘Gone. Life is full of gonenesses; I’m used to it. I keep on doing what I do; I’ll finish the book on Klimt and then if I’m still around I’ll do another one. The main action right now is with Angelica. Have a look at these.’ Klein had printed out ‘Monica’s Monday Night’ and he laid the pages on Dr DeVere’s desk.

DeVere scanned them quickly. ‘This is the picture-story we talked about in our last session?’

‘That’s right. The man in the photos is called Leslie; he’s an associate of Angelica’s. She and I had arranged to meet last night but it was Leslie who showed up, with a van. He was about to do a Monica job on me in front of a videocamera but I started to get angina and he let me go.’

‘You were surprised when it was Leslie instead of Angelica?’

‘Yes, I was.’

‘What about the angina? What brought it on?’

‘I was afraid of what was going to happen.’

‘You mean anal rape?’

‘That’s right.’

‘You didn’t want that?’

‘You don’t take anything for granted, do you?’

‘I can’t afford to in my line of work. Did you or didn’t you want him to do to you what he did to Monica?’

‘I didn’t want him to do that, OK?’

DeVere was looking at the first page of ‘Monica’s Monday Night’. ‘Where and when had you arranged to meet Angelica?’

‘In Surrey Street at a quarter past ten.’

‘That’s where and when Monica was pulled into the van on her Monday night.’

‘I know.’

‘Didn’t that set any alarm bells ringing in your head?’

‘OK, when we made the date to meet in Surrey Street on a Monday night my first thought was that I might be getting into a Monica situation.’

‘So you weren’t all that surprised to see Leslie, were you?’

‘All right, at some level I might’ve been half-expecting it.’

‘And how were you feeling about the possibility?’

‘Scared, but curious.’

‘Curious about …?’

‘About how it would be.’

Dr DeVere was looking at ‘Monica’s Monday Night’ again. ‘Here Monica’s recalling newspaper stories of rape,’ he said, ‘then “She sees her thighs being forced apart; she makes an O with her lips, imagines the taste of semen on her tongue and the sweat of brutal men on filthy mattresses in evil-smelling rooms.” Were your thoughts running along those lines?’

‘Look, I’m not homosexual.’

‘I never said you were. People have all kinds of thoughts and that’s what we’re talking about.’

‘All right — my thoughts were running along those lines, the same as Monica’s, OK? Tell me, do you enjoy rubbing people’s noses in what they don’t want to have their noses rubbed in?’

‘I’m not rubbing your nose in anything; if that’s how you experience this it might have to do with the judgements you pronounce on yourself. All I’m trying to do is clear away the bullshit. Do you think we can do that?’

‘I’ll make an effort.’

‘People have all kinds of wants and needs and they have different ones at different times. Sometimes I want to listen to Beethoven quartets; sometimes all I want to hear is Argentinian tangos.’

‘I know you’re trying to make me feel more comfortable, Dr DeVere, but sometimes I’m afraid of what’s in my mind.’

‘Mr Klein, you have got to learn that you’re not on trial for anything. Everybody has a public life and a private one; the private one is full of things that are not public business. This double life is part of the human condition. Nobody needs to know where you flick your bogies and I don’t need to know all your private thoughts but we’ve got to establish some points of reference. Can you say exactly what it is that you want from Angelica and/or Leslie?’

‘I’m not sure yet. Right now what I want is her real name and I’m meeting Leslie tonight to get it.’

‘Why does that require a meeting?’

‘Because I have to give him money for it.’

‘Ah! The question, “Do you know what you’re doing?” springs to mind.’

‘Yes, I do. Oannes hasn’t been very forthcoming but I’ve talked it over with myself out loud. I really need to know who this woman is and why she’s doing what she’s doing.’

‘But Oannes has been forthcoming — he said, “Gone.” It might be useful to consider the implications of that word.’

‘I have, but I’d rather this Angelica person didn’t get away with being inexplicable. Have you seen the Antonioni film, Beyond the Clouds?’

‘No.’

‘In it there’s a filmmaker who travels around looking for characters and stories he can use. He has an encounter with a young woman who says to him, “It’s better if I speak to you plainly. Whatever you have in mind, I’d rather tell you who I am: I killed my father — I stabbed him twelve times.” We learn that she was acquitted but we never find out why she did it. This young woman is played by Sophie Marceau. Have you ever seen her?’

‘No.’

‘It wouldn’t matter what she’d done — she’s irresistible. She and the filmmaker sleep together, after which we see him through the window waving goodbye and that’s it. We never find out why she stabbed her father twelve times.’

‘Maybe we don’t need to know.’

‘I think Antonioni left it that way so it would stay in our minds, unexplained and unforgettable. That’s OK in a film but this is real life and I need to know more about this woman who calls herself Angelica.’

‘Just remember that if a scene in a film doesn’t work they can take it out

‘But real life is full of scenes that don’t work and we’re stuck with them. I know what you’re saying.’

‘Be careful.’

‘I will.’

Oannes — deep-sea habitat — K getting in over his head? wrote Dr DeVere in Harold Klein’s folder. Then he slowly and carefully perused ‘Monica’s Monday Night’.