The Last Word

Twenty-seven

They arrived in the morning, dropping Julia off at her mother’s on the way.

Harry had wondered if Liana did really want them there. But when they walked in they saw that she had gone to some trouble to make a fine early lunch of seafood pasta and avocado and mozzarella salad. As always, the table looked welcoming. Liana ran out and embraced them.

The conversation was cheerful and diverting; Mamoon was witty, but he only discussed what he’d been watching on TV. After, while Mamoon and Alice continued to sit in their places, discussing their all-time top five favourite puddings, as well as the places and circumstances in which they had consumed them, Mamoon said he had left a ‘special gift’ upstairs for Harry. ‘Go: you’ll be pleased. Keep it,’ said Mamoon.

Harry went upstairs to continue with his work, and found his gift on the bed, in a folder: a four-page handwritten early short story of Mamoon’s. Not long afterwards, having removed her wig, Liana came to the door wearing a Nepalese woollen hat to cover her singed hair, and asked if she could sit with him. Unusually, she didn’t chatter or boast, but put out her tongue.

‘Look at the purple colour of that! Have you seen the circles of hell under my eyes? You heard I caught fire, didn’t you?’

Liana had been in astral torment, traipsing about all night like the miserable undead, with her skin shrinking and her bones aching. She had been satisfying herself too much, four times a day on occasion. She had worn away her finger tip in those soft folds, and thought she might rub herself out. But it was hopeless. ‘The world is flying around and around in my mind. What can I do to stop it? Even Mamoon insisted you come back. It is the only thing we have agreed on lately.’

‘Why did he want us here?’

‘To smash our isolation.’ She put her head on Harry’s shoulder. ‘Won’t you walk with me? Despite all your trickery and determination, I’ve always believed you’ve a kind heart and love women. You listened to me for free.’

She was keen to show him how the walled garden was developing, and eager to have him see the carp and goldfish in the pond. She insisted on taking him behind the barns and via the swimming pool, which they had opened properly at last. It was early autumn, but it had been unseasonably warm, and the day was spectacular.

‘I expect we’ll find Mamoon there,’ she said. ‘You know, though he has hurt me more than anyone else, I still love to turn a corner and see him.’

‘I thought he rarely goes into that part of the garden.’

‘I can’t tell you how strangely he’s been behaving.’

Mamoon had become interested in their pool. Uncharacteristically, he had even forfeited a day’s work to oversee and scrutinise its cleaning by Ruth and Scott, ensuring that it was heated to a temperature he approved of, not something Mamoon would normally attend to himself. Even more unusually, Scott had been ordered to drive Mamoon into town to buy food and wine, as well as garden furniture, loungers and towels, Mamoon insisting that Scott get them to the house immediately. Liana was cheered by this, wondering if Mamoon was beginning to forget the burden of his work.

As they walked, Harry and Liana saw bare-chested Scott with a fishing net, dragging leaves from the pool. Beyond him was the increasingly large figure of Alice, in sunglasses, white bra and pants — she was admirably reckless like that — lowering herself into the water.

Mamoon sat close by, clapping his hands, encouraging her to go in. ‘Is it correct temperature?’ he was saying. ‘Surely it is! Go down! Good. Lower. That’s it. .’

He stood up to watch her swim a couple of slow, elegant lengths.

‘Well, well,’ said Harry to Liana. ‘Thank God Mamoon is using the pool at last.’ Liana asked what he thought they talked about. ‘Many artists have had a muse,’ he said, ‘and with Alice he’s found sensuality, inspiration and a pin-up. He hears her dreams and talks about them in relation to her history. She tells him what trousers suit him.’

‘He listens to her dreams, you say?’

‘Doesn’t he listen to yours? In his spare time he’s become something of an oneiromancer now. He learned that a dream can make or break a day.’

‘He shoos me away.’

Harry pointed towards them. ‘He’s not shooing her away. It looks like Mamoon’s ready for the Olympics, the way he dashes to fetch that towel, a frenzied old man hurrying to catch the last bus. “Forever panting”, as Keats puts it.’ Harry went on, ‘But I don’t actually believe he’ll seduce Alice. He’s too nervous. He just wants to pore over her.’

‘But why, why?’

When Alice emerged from the water, she appeared to be naked. Mamoon stood completely still, with a towel over his arm.

Harry said, ‘Mamoon did say to me, wisely, I believe — and this is advice I’ve taken to heart — that a man would be a fool to think he had to make love to any woman he fancied.’

Harry went to Alice, shivering on a lounger, wrapped in a towel, and kissed her on the side of the head. He took her hand and sat down next to her. He patted her stomach and addressed his children inside her, ‘Hi kids, how you doing? Was it too cold for you in that water? When are you coming to see us? We want you!’

Liana sat with Mamoon and grasped his hand. ‘What a wonderful job you have done. The pool must be cold, but it looks tempting, my dear. I will swim. Won’t you join me? It would be lovely if we went in together, side by side, and I could see how strong you are. Mamoon, can you hear me, are you fine?’ He shook his head vaguely. ‘In that case, will you watch me and make sure I don’t drown, my love?’

While Liana changed in the nearby hut, Harry said to Mamoon, ‘I’m shocked not to see you in your study at this time of the day, sir. Have you finished what you’re doing?’

Mamoon looked away. ‘I’ll never be finished.’

Alice had closed her eyes and was falling asleep. Harry said, ‘I love looking at Alice now she’s pregnant. She’s even more ravishing — her skin, her eyes, her hair just glows.’ Mamoon nodded sullenly. ‘You once said, sir, and under pertinent circumstances, “Rather a book than a child,” didn’t you?’

‘You invented that.’

‘I think I remember reading it in Peggy’s diaries,’ said Harry.

‘Why did you think such a thing?’ Alice said to Mamoon, opening her eyes. ‘Did you never want a child, maestro?’

‘Don’t believe a word you read,’ said Mamoon.

‘My blood’s gone to my feet,’ said Alice. ‘I feel quite faint. I thought I had more puff. The children are already taking my life.’

Harry stroked Alice’s hair. ‘Books are traps: rather a child than a thousand libraries. Stories are merely a substitute.’

‘For what?’ said Mamoon.

He kissed Alice. ‘The real thing. The woman.’ He looked up. ‘Ah, here comes Liana, doesn’t she look beautiful in her bathing costume?’ He stood up, helped Alice to her feet, and led her away with his arm around her. ‘Come on, let’s go inside and lie down together before you turn blue. I think it might rain. And Mamoon wants to be with Liana.’

‘Mamoon,’ called Liana. ‘Take my arm, darling, and help me drown — sorry, I mean down into the water. Where are you, my dear husband?’

‘See you later, we’re leaving you to it,’ shouted Harry.