to go now.'
At that moment Kathe opened her eyes, raised her head
and said, 'Alan!'
I went over and took her hand. No one stopped me, and
I stood looking down at her face.
It was like the leaves on the broken ash bough that
morning; failing, lustreless, dulled; like a mask, like the
wreck of Kathe. Her eyes looked into mine without recognition
and I realized that when she had uttered my name
she could not have known that I was in the room. Her face that
exquisite face - was no longer beautiful. It was not distorted,
yet through some slight but indefinable change had
become a travesty. I cannot bear to recall it further. For an
instant the thought crossed my mind that this was not Kathe
- that they had played some trick on me. Then, weeping, I
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bent down, and kissed her, dropped her hand and turned
away from the bed.
The policeman, gently enough, took my arm and began
to lead me away. Just as we were about to go out through
the door she said, quite clearly and in her natural voice,
'Mogst du nicht Schmerz durch meinen- Tod gewinnen.' I
stopped, and after a moment she whispered, 'Ich hatte kein
Mitleid.'
We waited, but she did not speak again, and we went outside
and sat on a bench in the corridor. After a few moments
the policeman said, Tm very sorry, sir, to have to trouble
you, but what language was that the lady was speaking?'
'German. She's German by birth.'
'Would you very much mind telling me, sir, what she said?'
'Ich hatte kein Mitleid. 1 had no pity.'
' "I had no pity," sir. Thank you.' He wrote it down.
They gave me pain-killers and sleeping pills and I spent
the night in a private ward of the hospital. Early next morning,
soon after I had woken, the Sister came into the room
alone and told me that Kathe had died during the night.
I felt no shock and did not ask the cause. It seemed like
the close of a play which, one has already realized, can end
only so.
The Sister, I dare say, was surprised, having naturally assumed
that I would not be prepared for such news. Perhaps
she had expected me to be incredulous, to shed tears, ask
questions, blame the hospital. For a while she sat silently
by the bed, no doubt waiting for me to collect myself sufficiently
to reply. At length, as I did not speak, she said in a
controlled and formal tone, 'I'm very sorry indeed, Mr Desland.
We all are. I know this must be a great shock to you.
When you feel you can manage it, Dr Fraser will be ready
to tell you more about your wife's case. I expect you'd
rather I left you now,'
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26
As soon as the Sister had gone, however, the nurse on duty
brought my breakfast and sat down on the bed with the tray
on her knees.
'I know how unhappy you'll be feeling, Mr Desland,' she
said, in a blunt, kindly tone, 'but you must try to eat something.
You'll feel better if you do. You've got to help us to
look after you, you know.'
It was a relief to do as she asked and, as when one is
playing a game or reading a book with a child, I was able,
at least to some extent, to see things through her eyes and
adopt her point of view. She was honest and genuine, she was
doing her best and her plain, straightforward talk was bearable
where trying to respond to a more sophisticated mind
would only have imposed a greater strain on mine. Perhaps
she knew this. Nurses see a lot.
'What's your name?' I asked, like a homesick child trying
to make friends.
'Nurse Dempster,' she answered. I suppose she didn't
want me to start calling her Mary or Joan in the hearing of
the Sister.
Haltingly, I began talking to her about Kathe. I told her
how we had been married only six weeks, of Kathe's beauty
and the admiration she had attracted wherever we went,
of how she had changed my life and made my fortune, and
how happy we had both been to feel sure that she was
pregnant. And then, with a burst of tears, 'And Nurse, they
think - they all think - that I -'
'I'm quite sure you didn't,' she replied, putting a hand on
my shoulder. 'Not after what you've said. Why don't you
try to tell me what happened? I mean, you'll have to tell
someone, dear, sooner or later, won't you? Did you have a
row, or what?'
'I don't care what happens to me,' I said. 'It doesn't
matter; nothing matters. It's their thinking I could ever have
harmed her -'
353
'But if you didn't, you've only to tell the truth, surely?'
she answered, her plain, kindly face full of perplexity. 'Only,
people are wondering what happened, naturally, and there's
such terrible things are done sometimes - well, you know
that, dear, don't you? I mean, what you see in the papers-'
At her words I suddenly saw my predicament, irremovable
as a great block of granite. 'You'll have to tell someone
sooner or later.' Tell them; but what? I had set out at dawn
and driven my wife a hundred miles to a deserted beach,
where I had left her, to be found by a stranger, naked, alone,
out of her mind and dying. I was not concerned about consequences.
Kathe was dead and I did not care what became of
me. But that I should be thought to have wished or caused
her death, whether in cold or hot blood - that was unbearable.
Inevitably, if I persisted in saying nothing, that was
what would be assumed. Yet if I told the truth - and what
was the truth? I did not know myself - no one would believe
me. I would be revealed as plainly unbalanced, a man capable
of virtually anything 'in a state of diminished responsibility'.
And that was not the worst. It seemed to me, overwrought as
I was, that there might quite likely be further inquiries,
reaching to Copenhagen. What would they reveal? I knew
nothing of my wife - who she was or where she had come
from. I could tell them nothing - except the one appalling
thing I believed I knew, the thing they must never, for her
sake, discover. Once, I had seen myself at the apex of the
world, the nodal point from which flowed to others the
transcendental blessing and quality of Kathe. That responsibility,
I now realized, was not at an end. Because I would
never cease to love Kathe, joy and grief were still heads and
tails of the same golden coin. Whatever the dreadful truth,
I must say nothing that could bring about - I must at all
costs prevent - the tearing down and trampling of Kathe in
the mud.
So I remained silent, feeling all the nurse's doubt and disappointment
at my silence. Yet she was still kind, being one
of those people who find it hard to be anything else.
'Why don't you just stay quiet for a little now, dear?' she
354
was beginning. 'Doctor'll be round soon-' when the Sister
came in.
'Mr Desland
,' she said, with a kind of hasty, embarrassed
self-consciousness, '-oh, you've had some breakfast, that's
right - there's a friend of yours outside. He arrived some time
ago, as a matter of fact, but I believe he went down to talk
to someone at the police station. He's very anxious to see
you. Do you think you can manage it?'
It was Tony Redwood.
He sat down beside the bed - the nurse slipped out with
the tray - and for a time neither of us spoke. At length he
said, 'Look, Alan, suppose I just talk about things for a bit
and you stop me if you want to? I can always go away and
come back later. I can do anything you like.'
'Go on,' I said. Til do my best.'
'Well, first of all, I don't know whether it matters to you
or not, but it does to me, so I'll tell you that I'm as good
as sure you've got nothing to worry about, now, as far as the
police are concerned. I know that can't make any difference
to how you feel or what you're suffering, but at least it's
one small trouble less. I've been talking to the Superintendent
- told him who you are and so on. He wouldn't commit
himself, of course, but I'm fairly certain I convinced him that
it's quite out of the question that - well, you know. Anyway,
the point is that now we've got plenty of time in that
quarter, and we can come back to it later if we need to. The
police won't be bothering you for the time being.
'What happened yesterday was that they found out your
address - from papers in your wallet, I suppose - and eventually,
in the afternoon, they got through to the shop. Deirdre
telephoned your mother and she telephoned Freda. As it
happened, I was out until about nine yesterday evening, so
I didn't hear until I got home. I started out as early as
possible this morning and - well, here I am. Of course, I
didn't learn - about poor Kathe - until I arrived, an hour or
two ago. It's a terrible shock: it will be to everybody. I
can't tell you how sorry I am, Alan. Your mother's on her
way here now, with Colonel Kingsford. She doesn't know
355
yet either, of course. I'll make sure of being the first to meet
them when they arrive.'
'Thank you, Tony,' I said. 'I'm sorry you've had all this
trouble.'
'Less trouble for me than for you.'
He went over to the window and stood with his back to
me, looking out. After a little he went on, 'I managed to get
hold of your solicitor - er - Brian Lucas, isn't it? - at his
home last night. I've never met him personally, but he
couldn't have been more helpful. I telephoned him again just
now, and he's ready to come down if you want him. I think
you may want him, actually, but that still doesn't mean that
anyone's going to add to your troubles with a lot of stupid
rubbish.'
'Why, then?'
'Well, there'll probably have to be an inquest, you see.
But let's leave that, too, for the moment. Just leave everything,
Alan. You've got friends here now, and you need to
rest. You must have been in a lot of pain with your wrist
and those scratches. They look bad: I must tell your mother
what to expect before she sees you.'
Indeed, I was beginning to feel wretchedly ill. They had
given me no more pain-killing pills that morning - I suppose
there's a safety limit, or perhaps they needed to see how
I would be without them. I could feel every laceration, from
head to foot, and could scarcely keep from moaning with
pain.
'Tony,' I whispered, biting my lips, 'I'm afraid I'm feeling
pretty rotten. It seems to have come on badly, just these last
few minutes. D'you think you could-'
Til go and get someone,' he answered. At that moment,
however, the Sister returned.
'Dr Fraser's just coming round now,' she said to Tony.
Til show you a room where you can wait for a little, shall I?'
'Thanks, I think I'll wait out on the front,' replied Tony. T
want to be sure of meeting Mr Desland's mother when she
arrives.'
They went out together.
Within minutes I was almost delirious. It hurt to move and
356
it hurt to keep still. The very room seemed hostile. The curtains
seemed hanging over me in menace and like a sick
child I could see evil faces in the grain of the floorboards. I
wanted to relieve myself, but could not summon the strength
even to sit up. When I shut my eyes the bed began swaying
and that movement became the unnatural rippling of the
still, inshore sea beside which I was lying with Kathe in my
arms.
'Kathe!' I cried, opening my eyes and jerking myself upright.
'Kathe!'
An elderly, grizzled man with bushy eyebrows was sitting
on the bed. Gently, he put an extra pillow behind my head
and pressed me back against it.
'Easy, now: easy, laddie,' he said. 'Were ye havin' a wee
bit of a nightmare, or what was it?'
'I'm sorry,' I said. Til try to-'
'Well, now,' he went on, in a gentle, Scotch drawl, 'if ye're
wonderin' who I am, Ah'm Dorctor Fraser, an' Ah've just
come te see how ye're gett'n orn. We've gort te get ye right,
d'ye see. Let's just be havin' yere things orf, now, so that
we can have a wee peep at those abrasions an' scratches
ye've managed to get yersel'. Sister, will ye just be givin'
the laddie a hand?'
I had supposed, without thinking, that Dr Fraser must be
the young man whom I had seen the day before in the
casualty ward, and had unconsciously been dreading the renewal
of his hostility. No doubt it had been that tension and
my own resentment which had hitherto kept me from giving
way. Now, as this kindly old man went on quietly talking
while he examined me, it was as though I had been dismissed
at last, to let fall my weapons and drop down where
I had been standing for hour after hour on the alert. Instantly
I was at the mercy of delayed shock and of everything I had
resisted since the policeman found me above the shore.
I began to weep, sobbing, 'Kathe! Kathe! Oh, why couldn't
there be forgiveness? Why couldn't she-'
The doctor, trying as best he could to penetrate my hysteria,
bent over me, repeating, 'Will ye no' calm yersel'? Will
ye calm yersel', man, an' understand that ye're no' to blame?
357
However bad yere lawss may be to bear, theer's no one's
gawn' te blame ye! Will ye let me explain to ye what happened,
and why yere puir wife died?'
Beside myself, it seemed to me that he must somehow have
found out my secret, and that, unbearably, he was about to
recount it to me and to the listening Sister. I turned to her,
crying out, 'Don't let him tell! Don't let him! It's all I can
do for her now!' I tried to get out of bed and for a few
moments, until I gave up and lay down again, they struggled
with me, the doctor almost shouting, 'Be reasonable, will ye
be reasonable, now, man? Ye'll
just mak' it easier for yersel'
an' for us forbye!'
What followed I can't remember. Breakdown, hysteria,
hideous recall. I heard Kathe, a shadow on the wall, crying,
'Deeper, Alan, deeper!' as the sea swept over her. I saw the
Alsatian trotting at Mrs Taswell's heels through the wilderness,
and cried out in terror at the stealthy rustling of the
bushes behind them. The Girl in a Swing lay shattered in
fragments which, try as I might, I could not pick up, for
they escaped like quicksilver between my lacerated fingers.
Yet all the time, throughout these dreadful fancies, there
remained at the back of my mind the knowledge that they
were unreal and that in truth I was using them to avoid facing
something worse; namely, my fear of how much the
doctors and the police knew about Kathe, and my despair of
giving them any convincing account which would not lead to
further investigation.
I suppose that at some time during the morning I must
have been given another drug, for after a while the horrors
went cackling down into oblivion, and I slept.
The next thing I recall is waking quietly and realizing,
without opening my eyes, that it was evening. The same
oppression and misery lay upon me, but now, in the stillness,
I found myself able to reflect calmly.
'Somehow, for Kathe's sake,' I thought, 'I must make myself
face up to this business. Otherwise I shall remain trapped
among these nightmares, which I myself am putting up as a
kind of excuse - a screen between me and what I have to do.
At all costs I have to find some way to stop them finding out.'
358
But what way? As I lay trying to foresee the probable questions
of the authorities, a bullying, repetitive rhythm began
beating through my head. 'Why did you leave her to die?
Why did you leave her to die?' And this, at last, gave way
to my own question, 'Why did she, why did she die?'
7 knew why she had died - I and I alone. But for a start I
had better compel myself to hear the reasons for which Dr
Fraser thought she had died; for there, perhaps, I might
come upon something to suggest what I ought to devise.
Would Dr Fraser be about now? Was there anyone who could
get him? I opened my eyes and looked round me.
My mother, a magazine open on her lap, was sitting asleep
in an armchair near the bed. She and I were alone in
the room. She must have dropped off some little while ago,
for dusk had fallen and it was time to turn on the light.
When I spoke she sat up at once, came over to the bed
and put her arms round me.
I don't remember all we talked of. In so far as it was
possible to comfort me, she did so by her presence rather
than by anything she said. She neither spoke of Kathe nor
asked me to tell her what had happened, and I guessed that
they had advised her not to mention anything which might
upset me again. Tony, she said, had gone back to Newbury
that afternoon. Gerald Kingsford would be staying for the
next day or two, though he would have to return before
the week-end.
'His men don't work full-time on Saturdays or Sundays,
you see,' she said, 'so he can't very well be off the farm
then. But I shall stay, Alan dear, of course, until - well,
until you're able to go home. And you won't have to go back
to an empty house. Flick's going to come and stay - for a
time, anyway.'
Like Tony she talked, carefully, of peripheral things, yet
all the time, even while I felt most deeply her kindness and
devotion, there still lay in my mind like a stone the thought
that, for her own sake as well as Kathe's, I could not, now or
ever, tell her what I knew. My dismal scene I needs must act
alone, and I grew impatient to take the first step and find
out what it was that I had to contend with.
359
At length, making an effort to appear composed, I said,
'There was a Dr Eraser here this morning, Mummy, before
you arrived. He wanted to talk to me about Kathe. I couldn't
manage it then, but I'd like to see him now, if he's still
here.'
She replied that Dr Fraser had looked in twice that afternoon,
but the second time, finding me still asleep, had said
he would come back to-morrow morning.
'Did he say anything to you,' I asked, 'about - you know about
what happened? -1 mean, here, last night?'
'No, darling,' she answered, the tears standing in her eyes.
'We agreed that it was only right that you should be the
first to be told.' And then at last she broke down, sobbing
The Girl in a Swing Page 41