At first I fully expected Richard just to dismiss the whole thing and tell me to stop wasting my time; plenty more fish in the sea, that sort of thing. But on the contrary, he was quite intrigued by the whole set-up.
‘And apart from the one meeting with the sister, none of the family have seen her?’
‘So Lee says... it doesn’t make any sense; I don’t understand what’s happened.’
Richard shrugged, then took another sip from his drink. ‘Was there anything wrong with her, Michael? You know, any weird behaviour?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh come on, you know what I’m talking about. Was she big into drugs? Any strange requests in the bedroom? Anything that might point to instability?’
I paused for a moment. I hadn’t wanted to go into details, but I could tell Richard was genuinely trying to help. ‘Well, there was one thing.’
‘Yeah?’
‘She sometimes acted strangely after we’d made love. She seemed to think I was going to hit her; she’d get really upset, and terribly withdrawn. I couldn’t convince her otherwise. It was a bit like being with a schizophrenic. It only happened twice...’
‘Wait a minute. Did you used to rough her up a little?’
‘Richard, be serious.’
‘Well I don’t know, do I. Different strokes and all that.’
‘There was absolutely nothing violent in my behaviour towards her. I gave her no reason to think I might hurt her.’
‘And you don’t think she was a junkie.’
‘No. She liked her booze, but that was about it. She didn’t even smoke dope.’
Richard took a deep breath and stared at the table. ‘You’re hooked, aren’t you?’
‘I suppose you could say that.’
‘You sure she’s worth all this worry?’
‘Of course I am. Look at me, Richard; would I be confiding in you if I wasn’t sure?’
Richard nodded a couple of times and scratched his head. He looked uncomfortable.
‘You think I’m crazy, don’t you?’
Richard sighed. ‘I’m just looking at the facts, Michael. She’s not really living in the real world, is she? She’s made up some fantasy about her home life, about her family, about her friends. She told you she had a degree when she never even went to university. She also told you she was a virgin, and from what you’ve told me, there’s no way she was as pure and innocent as she claimed. Besides, her sister said that she was living with someone, right?’
‘She thought so, but she didn’t actually know. Besides, that was eighteen months ago.’
‘Well, I think it’s safe to assume there’s a bloke in the picture somewhere. If this woman is as mind-blowingly gorgeous as you claim, it’s unlikely she’d have had three years away from home without some sort of liaison. She’s also, from what you say, suffering from a quite unreasonable belief that you’re going to beat her up after sex. And now she’s disappeared. Now, you can check with your mate Rachel about this, but it sounds to me like this chick is both a pathological liar and a paranoid schizophrenic.’
‘I haven’t told you all this so that you can make a diagnosis...’
‘Listen, you arsehole. All I’m saying is, no matter how beautiful this woman is, do you really want to get involved with someone who’s that unbalanced? Because if the answer is yes, then you’ve got a number of problems on your hands. First, you have to find her. The very fact that she hasn’t contacted you suggests to me that, regardless of what happened in India, she’s changed her mind about being with you. There could be any number of reasons, but whatever they are it’s going to be an uphill struggle. Second, just supposing you do get together, what then? How do you know she won’t just walk out on you again? Third, what if there is really something wrong with this woman? Something serious, organic, whatever they call it. What if she’s nuts?’
‘Richard!’
‘I’m just trying to point out that this isn’t some sort of game, Michael, that if you intend to do anything about this, you may be letting yourself in for more than you bargained for. Finally, there may be someone else in the picture, another bloke. Now come on, Michael, do you really want all those hassles?’
I finished the Scotch and Dry. ‘What I want is some help. And another drink.’
‘It’s your round. As for help, what can I do?’
‘I don’t know. I just thought you might have some ideas as to how I might find her.’
Richard shook his head. ‘Michael, you dragged me over here to ask for some advice. And my advice is, do nothing. If she gets in touch with you, then take it from there, but for fucksake, be careful.’
‘But I can’t just sit around waiting for a phone call that might never come. I’ll go mad.’
‘What choice do you have? True enough, you can’t just sit around; you have to get on with your life. Have you thought about what you’re going to do? Of course not - I know you. Well, school-days are over, friend. There’s no one paying your way any more; you have plenty of things to think about and keep you occupied.’
‘You’re not being much help.’
‘What do you want from me, Michael! I can’t go out searching the streets for some loony sex-goddess. And neither can you. I don’t mean to be so hard, but you’ve got to be practical Michael. I can see she means a lot to you; if half of what you’ve told me is true, I can even understand it. But she’s not here, is she? And she left no forwarding address, so until she decides to contact you, there’s nothing more you can do. Now then, why don’t you buy me a drink and after that we can head off to this party. Mandy has a few friends coming along, and some of them are corkers. They may not be Liana, but they might just take your mind off her for a while. What do you say?’
What could I say? He was right of course; there was nothing I could do, at least, nothing I could think of doing. Given the alternatives, a party seemed like the most sensible option. After all, I could always get pissed...
Chapter 35
‘Have you seen Rachel lately?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I was just wondering if you’d seen Rachel.’
‘Don’t be daft, Liana; you know I haven’t.’
‘When was the last time you saw her then?’
‘I don’t remember; it was ages ago...’
‘I don’t believe you, Michael. Where were you on Thursday night?’
‘Please, Liana. Not now; not here.’ I ordered another coffee from a passing waiter.
‘You were with her, weren’t you. Why won’t you just tell me the truth?’
‘Don’t do this, Liana; I’m not in the mood.’
The restaurant had been fairly quiet for most of the evening; the food had been first class, the service acceptable, and the Sauvignon a delight. The theatre crowds had descended at about ten thirty, and now there was an energetic buzz to the place which I found appealing. I like people-watching as a rule, but most particularly in London. When I return from my six-month stint abroad, one of the first things I do is take in a play and a meal in the West End; it is also, usually, one of the last things I do before heading off again.
Liana had been on her best behaviour - I know that sounds terrible, as if she were some sort of pet that had to be watched or something - but that’s what it comes down to sometimes. We had taken in an early film - the new Scorsese - which had been as good as anticipated, with De Niro turning in a bravura performance as usual, before coming on to the restaurant. It was, I suppose, a treat of sorts for both of us; we hadn’t been out of the house for four or five days, and I needed a break from the typewriter. Liana had been nagging me to take her out all day. Her mood had been relatively calm, and she hadn’t caused a scene for days.
I was a bit unprepared, therefore, when she brought up Rachel’s name. I should have realised then and there that this would lead to trouble, but the film, the meal, and the three glasses of wine had relaxed me so much that I had completely let down my guard. Absolutely f
atal, as Liana can sense this like a dog picking up a scent, and she had left it until just that moment before pouncing. She’s crafty like that.
‘Don’t give me that shit, Michael. I can tell when you’re lying to me.’
‘Liana, you know damn well that I haven’t seen Rachel all the time you’ve been here.’
For reasons that have never made any sense to me, Liana is terribly jealous when it comes to Rachel. She knows that the relationship is as close to platonic as one could hope to find, but this seems to make no difference to her. Liana thinks that I’m cheating on her.
Liana affected her best sneer. ‘You fucking liar,’ she said, rather too loudly for comfort. The couple on the next table looked over; a big mistake. ‘And you can mind you’re own fucking business as well...’
‘Liana! Waiter, the bill please... and if you don’t behave yourself...’
‘What? You’ll put me over your knee and spank me?’
‘Keep your voice down...’
‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A bit of macho posturing; that’s a real turn on for you, all that slapping and hitting...’
‘Shut up...’
‘... you’ll probably come in your underpants.’
‘That’s enough! Waiter, please.’
Liana stared at the couple on the next table, and addressed the woman. ‘Does he slap you about? Does he? Does he threaten you with violence if you don’t suck him off?’
That was it. I grabbed her firmly by the arm and dragged her away from the table. There’s no reasoning with her when she gets like this. I didn’t even bother apologising to the poor couple; what, after all, could I say? Liana struggled a bit, but I gripped her arm firmly.
‘Ouch! Get off me you bully! Let go!’
The entire restaurant was looking at us now. I’m past the stage where I really give a shit what people think of me; that’s the great irony. I don’t care if they think I’m a molester, a violent wife-beater, whatever; they can think what they like. But I won’t have them think ill of Liana. It’s not her fault; she can’t really help it. I can’t just stand there and explain to fifty complete strangers that there’s no need to panic, everything’s okay, my wife’s mad, please carry on as if nothing happened... and as I can’t say that, I have only one option; to escape as quickly as possible. I won’t have them thinking badly of Liana. They don’t know her, they know nothing about her or what she’s been through. They just don’t know.
‘Get your hands off me, you bastard!’
As we pushed past the cashier’s desk I indicated that I’d be back in just a moment, then shoved Liana out through the door. Liana was still yelling.
‘You’ve got no right to treat me this way!’
‘Shut up. I’m going back inside to pay the bill. Now for Christ’s sake, calm down. If you stop ranting I’ll tell you everything you need to know, okay?’
‘So it’s true! I knew it...’
‘Just stay there.’
I went back inside, apologised to the maitre d’, paid the bill, left an overly generous tip, then went back outside where I’d left Liana, fuming.
‘I knew it, you snake,’ she spat. ‘You can’t keep your dick to yourself, can you, you’ve got to go sticking it up the first tart who’ll have it...’
‘This is unnecessary, Liana. You know damn well that I...’
‘I know damn well that you’re a sneak and a liar, and that you’ve been screwing around behind my back!’
‘I’m not prepared to get into an argument about this. Now come on, we’re going home.’ ‘What, so you can rough me up?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ I hailed a passing taxi, bundled Liana inside, gave the address to the driver, and waited for the onslaught of abuse. Liana had stopped screeching - probably because there was no longer an audience - but she was still visibly upset.
‘How can you do this to me, Michael? How can you be so cruel?’
‘Liana, you’re letting your imagination get the better of you.’
‘But you’ve lied to me...’
‘I haven’t lied. Now listen to me. I haven’t seen Rachel for over six months. I’ve spoken to her a few times on the phone, but that’s it. Why do you insist on torturing yourself like this?’
‘You’re the one who’s doing the torturing. You’re incapable of being faithful.’ She started to cry.
Like most people, I resent being accused of things that I haven’t done. Liana accuses me of screwing Rachel. She has her reasons; she knows that Rachel and I are close. She finds it impossible to believe that we have not been carrying on an affair behind her back, and my protestations fall on deaf ears. This is not to say that I am not guilty of infidelity, if such a term can be used in these circumstances. There has been the occasional bout of sexual profligacy with some “bimbo” as Liana calls them. It’s never led to anything serious, it’s never altered my feelings for Liana and, despite the attraction of such an idea sometimes, it would never cause me to leave Liana.
I’m not particularly proud of my behaviour, but I will not renounce it either. I’m a human being; I have my desires and needs like everyone else, and whilst those needs exist I will do what is necessary to fulfil them. And before you cast the first stone, be aware of one thing; Liana and I have not made love for three years. All her talk of fidelity is an irrelevance. It reached a point where I was no longer able to suffer the torments that followed lovemaking; Liana’s paranoia became so far advanced that any physical relationship between us became impossible. I am not cheating on Liana; there is nothing to cheat.
‘Stop crying, Liana; you’re just upsetting yourself’
‘Why won’t you make love to me... you used to want me...’
‘Not again Liana; we’ve been through this a thousand times.’
‘Why don’t you love me any more?’ All this from the woman who threatens to cut my balls off if I tell her I love her.
***
Well, what would you do? Devil or deep blue sea? Let me tell you something, it isn’t much of a choice. In fact, it isn’t any choice at all.
As Richard would say, take it from someone who knows. Never fall in love with beauty, frailty, charisma or charm. Especially charm. Look it up in the dictionary. It’s not just the quality of pleasing, fascinating or attracting people; it is also a magic spell, or the formula used in casting such a spell. Ten years ago I fell under that spell, and I’ve been bewitched ever since. It’s made a mockery of my life.
No, if you’re going to fall in love, make sure it’s for the right reasons: money, company, security, prestige, kudos. Better still, try not to fall in love at all. The song says it all: love hurts. Turn on the radio any time, day or night, and listen to those lyrics. For every song praising the joys of being in love, there are ten delineating the pains of lost love, broken love, love turned sour, love that walks out the door, love turned to hate. All over the world there are millions of people suffering the agonies of heartbreak. Can anything really be worth all that pain?
No, of course not. So why do we do it? Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we fall in love? You’re hoping for an answer, right?
Dream on, friends. Dream on.
Chapter 36
I did not stay long at the party. There were a number of old friends there, but I was in no mood to make small talk with them; there was far too much on my mind. As for Mandy’s friends, they were, true to form, attractive enough, but not even the sexiest of them could take my mind off Liana. In the end I made my apologies to Richard, told him I’d be in touch, and took a cab home.
I slept poorly that night, the dark hours beset by nightmares and disjointed images. In one sequence, I found myself walking down a local street when I saw Liana appear from a doorway. I ran towards her calling her name, but she didn’t hear me, and started to walk away. I chased her down the street, yelling her name, and eventually caught up with her; I grabbed her by the arm, spun her round, and came face to face with her sister Lee, who didn’t seem to recog
nise me at all.
In another dream, I was sitting in a restaurant with Liana, drinking beer. It was a perfectly normal scenario, and in the dream I remembered thinking: what was all the fuss about? She’s here. We were talking and laughing, just as we had done a dozen times or more in India. Everything seemed fine until I realised that Liana was becoming less distinct as we talked. As the conversation continued, I began to panic; she was becoming more and more insubstantial with every second. I tried to take hold of her, but my hand passed straight through her. Liana seemed totally oblivious to all of this, carrying on as if nothing was wrong. Within moments she had become totally transparent, and then, with her laugh echoing in the air around me, she vanished altogether.
Kissing Through a Pane of Glass Page 13