The Tin Heart Gold Mine

by Ruth Hartley

  Lara’s body ached for sex but, as she did not feel that her desire was for any particular person, she felt she was somehow betraying her idea of herself. Women, she understood vaguely, did not have unfocussed sexual feelings. That at least was the wisdom of women’s literature and magazines and what girls quoted to each other under the guise of their own experience. It was what Jane, her mother, hinted at constantly. Men on the other hand were given to such strong sexual urges that they could not easily be contained. Women had to avoid arousing men’s passions unless they wanted to suffer the inevitable consequences that would follow – whatever they might be – rape or pregnancy? Sexual feelings for a woman, she was led to believe, were supposed to arise from an emotional and physical attraction to another person who would, of course, be a man. Lara’s friend Gillian didn’t fit into any of these scenarios – or did she? She was the dominant ‘butch’ and Poppy, her girlfriend, was submissive, so presumably women could be one or the other. Lara sighed at the idea of being either.

  It was inconvenient to have a body that ached to be touched, ached obsessively for orgasm and then left her ashamed when she masturbated. Her body’s demands made it hard to concentrate on her work in the studio. Maybe it was irrational but she was afraid that overwhelming sexual desire would gradually make her into some version of a man.

  Tim’s friendship mattered a great deal to her and while she did not want to risk losing it, she knew that their relationship was close to tipping over into a physical one with all the risks and complications that that must bring. To avoid what looked otherwise to be inescapable – another sexual relationship that could not possibly last, she allowed herself to indulge in unrealisable and undefined sexual fantasies about Oscar. That helped until she became afraid that she might have discovered another problem. One secret night she masturbated until she achieved an exquisite long-lasting orgasm. As she reached the agonising thrill of climax, her body astonished her by a burst of fluid from her vagina that perfected and completed the sensation. She knew that it was the best orgasm she had ever had. She even understood that it was normal, right and not perverse, but at the same time it didn’t fit with all her received knowledge about women and sex. As her breathing slowed, she noticed she was lying on a damp sheet so there must have been a significant amount of liquid. What was that wetness from? What did it consist of? Lara put her hand down into the moisture and then sniffed at it. It wasn’t pee. It smelt clean. She licked her finger – it tasted of nothing particular. She rubbed at her sheets. It would have been embarrassing to have to change them but luckily it was summer and they would dry easily on the bed and it seemed likely that they would not smell of anything.

  There was still the question of how she, Lara, was to understand herself and her body?

  She was sorry, not for the first time, that she hadn’t accepted Gillian’s invitation at art school to join her women’s group and discuss the intimacies of the female body and female sexuality. At the time she suspected that the discussions might have led on to more practical experiments and even emotional commitments to some female person or some feminist cause that she didn’t feel was all that relevant to her. It wasn’t only a lack of curiosity and even some prissiness that had stopped her, but also a desire to keep her focus on her art. There was something too demanding and personal in the way in which Gillian, her eyes hot and intense, had looked at her when she had tried to persuade her to come to the group. Lara sighed. She knew that if she had joined Gillian’s group she would have probably taken other decisions on leaving art school but all she had wanted then was to get back to the heat and familiarity of Chambeshi.

  If only she could ask Gillian now. Or Liseli.

  Some of the women’s group discussions had continued on into the shared space of the student kitchen. Had she not heard one of Gillian’s more attention-seeking girlfriends mention G-spots and female ejaculation? Was that what she had just done? Ejaculated? It wasn’t even a word she liked though perhaps she could get used to it as it had been so pleasant. Most of the group’s conversation however had been about male exploitation of and domination of women. That part hadn’t bothered or interested Lara much. It didn’t enter into her personal experience of life. She had never felt dominated or exploited. Lying stretched out on her bed, guiltily but delightfully relaxed, Lara spared a moment to think of her mother, Jane. What did Jane know about sex that she had not told her daughter – or perhaps would not tell Lara? They had discussed menstruation and pregnancy and, of course, contraception. Lara had continued to take the pill after she and Jason had stopped sleeping together. Lately she had begun to worry if it was bad for her. She could ask Jane but if she did then Jane would know that though she didn’t have a boyfriend she was still hoping to find another. Did Jane even have sex? Children were supposed to be disgusted at the idea of their parents having sex but the abstract idea of that did not bother Lara. It was more difficult to imagine her parents approaching each other for intimacy after the cool bitchiness with which they rather often spoke to each other at mealtimes. What did any other person think about sex anyway? You could not tell by looking at people’s faces. It was extraordinary to think that every person was the result of a sexual act and that everyone surely, or nearly everyone, was at some moment in their lives going to be engaged in the rhythmic pumping with another body that would end in the gasping climax of the sex act.

  “God!” Lara thought,” I am really fixated on sex aren’t I? Why does sex interest me so much? Am I normal?”

  “No,” she added to herself a moment later. “Of course I am normal – and actually rather a boring self-centred person.”

  With a little embarrassed groan Lara turned on her stomach and buried her face in her pillow as she remembered the sex that she had shared with Ajay in their second year at art school. It hadn’t been great but then they weren’t in love or even very attracted to each other. It was more a relationship driven by curiosity about difference and a need for sex without social complications or commitment. It wasn’t Lara’s first experience of sexual intercourse. That had taken place in her last year at school with a boy called Floyd. It had been a surprise to Lara. The immediate experience was so physically wonderful and exciting, but it had been so brief and left her at the end unfulfilled.

  “That’s because you didn’t have a proper orgasm.” Liseli had explained later.

  The affair had ended by being annoying because Floyd did not know how to behave afterwards. Neither, Lara conceded, did he know what he felt. He no longer looked her in the face when they spoke to each other but Lara knew that he stared at her when he thought she wouldn’t notice. When he moved on to another relationship Lara found herself relieved rather than humiliated. Afterwards she and Liseli had agreed it was better to sleep with a man who was at least 25 years old and a great deal more grown-up. Lara pulled an ugly face at herself in the mirror.

  “Fancy imagining that any man would be grown-up at 25.”

  She was almost that now and though she didn’t feel very grown-up she had a good idea that she was a great deal more mature than most young men her age. Jason had not proved too wise about relationships, had he?

  “If only Liseli were here now.” wished Lara, feeling alone. “I need a girlfriend who knows all about sex and knows the men I know.”

  At art school she had avoided sex at first because she had felt alienated from the other students. One morning Lara and Ajay had found themselves in the residence when there were no other students about. Lara invited Ajay into her room for a mug of coffee and they perched awkwardly side by side on her bed as her desk chair was covered with a pile of Lara’s intimate laundry. They found themselves silent and unable to speak a word. Somehow the unspoken words expressed themselves in actual kisses then abruptly, Ajay grabbed at Lara and with a helpless cry fell against her knocking her backwards flat onto her bed. Lara had no idea what it was for a man to ejaculate prematurely but she understood Ajay�
��s desperate need and embarrassed shyness. She took him gently in her arms to comfort him and in a remarkably short time he was erect again and they were lying naked together on Lara’s bed enjoying a much more successful sexual encounter. They had continued for quite a long time afterwards to have sex with each other as secretly as possible. Again by another unspoken understanding they did not go out together socially where they could be identified as a couple. Ajay was not ready to confront his family and Lara did not want to explain to her friends that their relationship was primarily sexual. Nevertheless they liked each other and were tender in their sexual intimacy.

  Lara had told Liseli about it when they were on university vacation in Chambeshi. Liseli was approving.

  “It’s really good to have a relationship that is just about sex if you can. The trouble is that most guys like to own you and show you off – or slag you off – one or the other!”

  Yes – Lara wished Liseli was around to offer advice and support.

  Unexpectedly Liseli arrived back in Chambeshi but she was in a rather fragile and excitable state having apparently quit her well-paid job. Lara was at first delighted to have her friend and confidante close by again and they soon had their heads together over long glasses of cola and ice on the Hotel Sunshine Everyday veranda.

  “Oh yeah!” Liseli said in answer to Lara’s questions. “Female ejaculation does happen for some women but you need to be a randy woman and uninhibited – but stuff men – I mean honestly – just do it to yourself and then you don’t have to pretend to please a man!” She added, “But I thought by now that you and Tim would be living together or something – he’s much more your type than Jason. Jason well – he is dishy maybe, but dim in ways that matter. You’re an artist Lara for God’s sake – aren’t you supposed to be promiscuous and unfaithful and just taking your pleasure wherever you want!”

  “That’s men artists!” Lara said attempting to be sardonic, “This is Africa remember – you have to look out for AIDS and disease – can’t just enjoy yourself. Look at my mother – there is so much work in pleasing men – you have to keep cooking meals and dressing yourself up – they just wander round in shorts and casual clothes and eat.”

  “And fuck.” said Liseli.

  “Well – it’s true.” Lara admitted a short time later. “I do like Tim but we just don’t seem to want it with each other – it would have to be so part-time – and if everything keeps changing I can’t concentrate on my work.”

  “Have you met Oscar again?” Liseli raised an expressive eyebrow.

  “I could fancy a rich sugar-daddy like him – but you do wonder about men his age who aren’t married – something wrong or weird or just different? He doesn’t seem to be gay – at least he isn’t a bit camp but I think you can tell by the way a man looks at you as a woman don’t you? I think Oscar has hot eyes when he looks at a woman.”

  The idea of Oscar’s hot eyes made Lara and Liseli giggle like schoolgirls.

  Liseli continued.

  “Well maybe he’s got a girlfriend in Europe somewhere – my father said he saw him in a restaurant in Berlin with a gorgeous blond girl. He is supposed to have had affairs with all the expatriate wives here -” Liseli stopped and gave a quick glance at Lara before continuing, “but that is just a rumour – maybe he is gay or like the priest Abelard – you know castrated because of his love for Heloise.”

  Lara attempted to speak in a bass register. “His voice is too deep for him to be castrated. I haven’t met him since that first dinner – but he does interest me -” Lara pulled a face. “I don’t know why. Perhaps he just seems different – like he might know about things that I don’t – I do want to have experiences and learn about life and strange things -”

  “God! Pain and broken hearts stuff, you mean! We all have that anyway without asking.” Liseli’s face was very still for a moment. “I expect Oscar could give you that – men with his big nose and thick eyebrows can look really cruel don’t you think?”

  “No-o – can’t say he seemed cruel to me.” Lara reflected. “But maybe it’s cruelty I want to understand – you know – in the bush – life is cruel and dangerous. We say it’s beautiful but its more than that – it’s dangerous and raw. I mean – even here with all the people dying from AIDS – life is cruel, isn’t it? Sometimes I think that my paintings are just so bland and nice – I want to get to -” She searched for the right words. “I want to get to the heart of life – to the part where it all begins – you know what I mean Liseli?”

  “That’s sex isn’t it?” Liseli said “The little death – la petite mort – is what the French call an orgasm. I bet Oscar could show you that – he does look as if he understands death!”

  “Do you suppose he has killed people? I mean when he was in the police and there was that rebellion in the north?”

  “Probably.” Liseli said. “I, for one, wouldn’t be at all surprised.”

  Chapter Five

  Liseli

  Having Liseli around again meant an adjustment to Lara’s social life. Lara and Tim would no longer be a twosome. They would be a threesome and soon after Liseli joined them Lara was surprised by an unexpected and overpowering feeling of jealousy. Liseli had arrived looking gorgeous, exotic and expensive in the latest outfits. She was brimming with confidence and insisted on going to as many parties as possible. If there were no parties then everyone had to accompany Liseli to the most popular and heavily frequented bars in town. Tim and Lara were introduced to a new crowd of young Chambeshians of their generation who were back from acquiring first degrees and busy settling into new jobs in top positions in Chambeshi.

  It was on one of these occasions that they met Enoch’s son.

  “Hey, meet Enoch Njobvu Junior.” Liseli took Lara and Tim each by the hand and pulled them across to a young man standing in a group by the bar at the Hotel Sunshine Everyday.

  “Don’t tell me, but you must me related to the Enoch Njobvu who works for Oscar at Tin Heart Holdings,” Tim said. Lara’s mouth gaped for a moment.

  “Yeah!” Liseli was talking too much, too loudly and interrupting everybody. “Enoch Junior is training to be a doctor – on a Tin Heart Foundation scholarship that Oscar has set up.”

  “Wow – that’s great!” and Tim was soon plunged deep into an information-gathering conversation with Enoch Junior.

  Liseli had whisked Lara off to another group of young people to whom she was explaining why she was back in Chambeshi.

  “My boss made a pass at me and the secretary told his wife. I just couldn’t be dealing with that shit! Besides, the job wasn’t interesting enough for me. I need something more stimulating. I went straight in there to the boss’s office and demanded money in lieu of notice. Then I walked out, went straight to the airport and here I am!”

  The way Liseli spoke seemed odd and exaggerated to Lara – she was off-kilter spinning away like a detached helium balloon in a breeze. Lara could not find any way to tether her.

  Later Tim wanted to know if Liseli was high.

  “Is she on drugs, or something?” he asked Lara, frowning and serious.

  “No, absolutely not!” Lara was adamant, “Liseli is just a brilliant person, very intelligent and talented and cool. She is just too bright for her own good sometimes – but no, she would never take drugs. She has just been through all this shit with her job.”

  Tim seemed relieved and Lara relaxed. She had done the right thing by Liseli.

  At Liseli’s insistence they all went to a new Disco that had been created inside an abandoned warehouse in the light industrial area of Chambeshi. It was down a wide, ill-lit street with plenty of parking. The disco attracted not only well-to-do clubbers, but hordes of beggars and street kids who promised to protect the clubbers’ cars from thieves. The street kids also offered blow jobs and anal sex, though their participation was not always voluntary
. Inside the disco the steel walls reverberated with booming music and rebounding ultra-violet strobes. The heat was tremendous. Lara sought temporary respite in the wash rooms. They were surprisingly and pleasantly clean. A team of modestly dressed young girls under 15 years were busy wiping and cleaning up after the women had used the basins. Lara gave the youngest child a smile and a thank-you while she searched for a tip.

  “Would you like to have sex with me?” the girl said.

  Lara stopped. Sex had been on her mind but not this way.

  “You won’t believe what happened to me in the Ladies room.” Lara said to Tim outside.

  “Yes, I would!” he answered. “It’s far worse in the men’s toilets. You can’t get into the cubicles. Sex is the only way some people can get food in Chambeshi.”

  A few days later she drove around to Oscar’s house for what had become a regular lunch with Tim and Enoch. There were a number of cars in the drive and a group of young people including Enoch Junior were lounging in the easy chairs on the veranda. Lara recognised some of them from the evening out with Liseli and Tim. The table already held a large number of empty beer and cola bottles. She was about to ask where Tim was when she turned her head and saw him approaching from his room in the guest wing. Liseli was with him. Tim’s arm was around her shoulders and Liseli’s arm was around Tim’s waist, their faces close enough together to make a single lop-sided heart shape.