The private life of everyone in the regions directly affected -- and of many in areas away from the insurgence -- became oriented entirely around the immediate problem. The police force divided, and so did the Army and Air Force. The Navy remained loyal to the government. When a detachment of American Marines was landed to act in an advisory capacity to what had become known as the Nationalist side, and when the United Nations drafted a peace-keeping force, the military aspect of the situation became resolved.
By this time, no one could be said to be uninvolved.
"I hear we're going to Augustin's."
The man marching next to me stared straight ahead. "About bloody time."
"You been missing it then?"
"Piss off, will you?"
I said nothing, but let them drag out the interplay of ideas to their logical conclusion. I'd heard this or a similar conversation a dozen times in the last week.
"It was Lateef that decided. The others wanted to stay put."
"I know. Good old Lat."
"He's missing it, too."
"They got one of his? He never mentions it."
"Yeah. They say he was screwing Olderton's wife on the quiet."
"I don't believe it."
"It's a fact."
"What about Olderton, then?"
"Never knew a thing."
The other man laughed. "You're right. I have been missing it."
"Haven't we all."
They both laughed then, cackling like two old women in the uncanny cold silence of the countryside.
We slept that night in the open, and in the morning were fortunate in finding a shop still open that sold us, at normal prices, a good deal of camping equipment. At this stage we still had not formulated a serious plan, beyond a recognition of the fact that we must get to Bristol at the earliest opportunity.
We walked all that day, sleeping again in the open, but this time with the equipment. It rained during the course of the night and we were adequately protected. In spite of what at first seemed to be great difficulties, our spirits stayed high, though when I overheard Isobel talking with Sally shortly before the girl fell asleep I thought I detected a considerable strain of false optimism in their tone.
As far as I was concerned, I was passing through what I was to learn later was a temporary phase of genuine high spirits. Paradoxical as this may seem, the comparative freedom we now enjoyed, at a time when the martial law in the cities was imposing impossible restrictions on most of the population, served to compensate for all the other facts such as that we had lost virtually all our possessions, were now homeless and that the possibility of our reaching Bristol was remote.
We encountered a stretch of woodland and for a few days made our encampment there. It was during this time that our mood became depressed.
For food, we visited a near-by village where we were sold all we required without question. But later in the week, when a detachment of the Afrim forces raided the village and as a result the inhabitants erected barricades, this supply was cut off from us.
We decided to move on, and travelled across country in a southerly direction. I became increasingly aware of Isobel's unspoken resentment about what was happening to us, and I found myself competing with her for Sally's approval. In this way, Sally became the instrument of our conflict (as in fact she had always been) and suffered considerably.
The day after the soaking of our equipment and possessions in the crossing of the river, the conflict came to a head.
By this time we were out of touch with the rest of the world. The batteries of the radio had been growing weaker, and now the water had damaged it beyond our repair. While Isobel and Sally laid out our clothes and equipment to dry in the sun, I went off by myself and tried to condense my knowledge into something from which I could plan our next moves.
We knew only that we were in grave difficulty and that our personal problems were aggravated by the situation around us. Though we knew only too well the extent of our own difficulties, we would have been better placed to cope with them had we been able to know the current state of the political situation.
(Much later, I learned that at this time there was a large-scale welfare scheme being initiated by the Red Cross and the United Nations, which was attempting to rehabilitate all those people like ourselves who had been dispossessed by the fighting. As it turned out, this effort was fated, as with the worsening state of the conflict, both organizations became discredited in the mind of the public, and their work was used by all participating sides as a tactical, political or social weapon against the others. The result of this was a massive distrust of all welfare organizations, and in time their function became the superficial one of maintaining a presence.) It was difficult to reconcile ourselves to the standard of existence we were now having to accept.
I found myself looking at the situation as being a predetermined one.
That my attitude to Isobel, the way in which our marriage had become nothing more than a social convenience, had resolved itself. While we were living at our house we were able to disregard both the fact that our relationship was hypocritical and that the political situation of that period had an effect on us.
But now that the latter had so changed our mode of existence we could no longer pretend about ourselves.
In those few minutes alone, I saw with penetrating clarity that our marriage had reached its conclusion and that the moment had arrived when the pretence must be abandoned. Practical considerations tried to intrude, but I ignored them. Isobel could fend for herself, or surrender herself to the police. Sally could come with me. We would return to London, and from there decide what next to do.
For one of the few times in my life I had reached a positive decision by myself, and it was not one I liked. Memories of what had gone before -- good memories -- pulled at me. But I still had the bruises from the policeman's boot in my side and these served to remind me of the true nature of our lives.
The past had moved away from us and so had the present. Those moments with Isobel when I had thought we might once again work out a way to live with each other, presented themselves to me as falsehoods. Regret did not exist.
We were due to arrive at Augustin's the following day, but of necessity we slept that night in a field. None of us liked sleeping in the open, preferring to find abandoned houses or farm-buildings. I had never found it easy to settle when on hard ground and exposed to the cold. In addition, we discovered around midnight that by chance we had camped less than a mile from an anti-aircraft emplacement. Several times the guns opened fire, and although searchlights were used twice we were unable to see at what it was they were firing.
We moved on at first light, every one of us cold, irritable and tired.
Five miles from Augustin's we were stopped by a patrol of U.S. Marines, and searched. It was routine, perfunctory, and it was over in ten minutes.
Sobered from garrulous irritability to our habitual watchful silence, we arrived in the vicinity of Augustin's around midday.
Lateef detailed myself and two others to move on ahead and establish that the camp was still there. All we had by way of directions was an Ordnance Survey grid-reference which had been passed on to us along the refugee network. Although we had no reason to doubt this information -- the network was the only reliable form of news-dissemination -- it was possible that one or another of the military groups had moved it on. In any case, it was essential to ensure that at the time we were there we would not interrupt anyone or be interrupted.
While Lateef organized the preparation of a meal we moved forward.
The grid-reference turned out to be a field which had carried crop-growth. It had evidently lain fallow for more than a year, as it was overgrown with rank grass and weeds. Although there were several signs of human habitation -- a soil latrine in one corner, many bare patches in the grass, a refuse tip, the burnt ulcers where open fires had been -- the field was empty.
We searched it in silence for a few minutes,
until one of the other men found a piece of white card inside a polythene bag resting under a tiny cairn of stones. It said: Augustin's, and was followed by another grid-reference. We consulted the map and found that it was less than three-quarters of a mile farther on.
The new site was inside a wood and we found it with comparative ease. It consisted of several tents of various sizes, ranging from crude sheets of canvas large enough to shelter only one or two persons, up to a medium-sized marquee of the sort once found at circuses. The whole encampment was roped off, except at one part where a large tent had been erected. Anyone wishing to enter the encampment was thus obliged to pass through this tent.
Over the entrance was tacked a crudely painted sign on what had once been a sheet or tablecloth: AUGUSTIN. Underneath that was written: SCREW A BLACK FOR PIECE. We went inside.
A young boy sat behind a trestle table.
I said to him: "Is Augustin here?"
"He's busy."
"Too busy to see us?"
"How many?"
I told the boy the number of men there were in our group. He left the tent and walked through into the encampment. A few minutes later Augustin himself joined us. Few refugees know what nationality Augustin is. He is not British
He said to me: "You got men?"
"Yes."
"When they coming?"
I told him in about an hour. He looked at his watch.
"O.K. But out by six?"
We agreed to this.
He added: "We got more in evening. O.K.?"
We agreed again, then returned to our own temporary camp where Lateef and the others were waiting for us. It occurred to me that if we told them where Augustin's was the others would not wait for us, and our own choices would be correspondingly restricted. Accordingly, we refused to divulge the exact location, and said that the camp had moved. When it was clear we intended to say no more, we were given food. After we had eaten we led the others to Augustin's.
Lateef went into the tent with myself and the other two men. The remainder crushed in behind us, or waited outside. I observed that in the time we had been away, Augustin had tidied up his own appearance and had placed a wooden barrier across the inner flap of the tent to prevent us from passing straight through.
He was sitting behind the trestle table. At his side was a tall white woman, with long black hair and remarkable blue eyes. She glared at us with what I took to be contempt.
Augustin said: "How much you offer?"
"How much do you want?" Lateef said.
"No food."
"Food is the best we can offer you."
"No food. We want rifles. Or women."
Lateef said: "We have fresh meat. And chocolate. And plenty of tinned fruit."
Augustin tried to look displeased, but I could tell he was unable to resist accepting our offers.
"O.K. Rifles?"
"No."
"Women?"
Lateef told him, without mentioning the abduction, that we had no women.
Augustin spat on to the surface of the table.
"How many nigger-slaves?"
"We haven't got any."
I had expected Augustin not to believe this. Lateef had once told me that at his last visit, when Augustin was in a more expansive mood, he had confided to him that he "knew" every refugee-group had several Negroes along as slaves or hostages. Notwithstanding the moral issue, the sheer practical fact of the constant searches and interrogations would have precluded this. In any case, Augustin appeared to take our word for it at the present moment.
"O.K. What food?"
Lateef passed him a sheet of paper, containing a list of provisions with which we would be willing to part. The woman read it out to him.
"No meat. We have enough. It stink too quick. More chocolate."
Finally, the barter was agreed. Knowing what had had to be paid in the past, I realized that Lateef had struck a fair bargain. I had expected him to be forced to pay much higher. Perhaps for all Augustin's bluff manner, his surplus of food was not as great as he pretended and was experiencing hardship in other respects. It occurred to me to wonder at his insistence on weapons.
We moved outside the tent to where our handcarts were and off-loaded the agreed amounts of food. The business side accomplished, we were conducted through the tent and into a small clearing. Augustin paraded us proudly past his wares.
There were approximately three times as many men as there were available girls. We agreed to behave in a reasonable fashion, and divided ourselves into three groups. We then drew lots as to the order in which we would go to the girls. I was in the group which selected the lot for the first of the three.
While the others waited we walked up to the line of girls, who stood waiting for us as if they were troops on inspection.
All of the girls were Negroes. It appeared they had been chosen by Augustin personally, as they were similar in appearance: tall, full-breasted and wide-hipped. Their ages ranged from youthful middle-aged to one girl who was obviously in her early teens.
I selected a young woman of about twenty-five. As I spoke to her she bared her teeth as if I were to inspect those, too.
After a few words she led me away from the clearing to a small tent at the very edge of the encampment. There was little room inside the tent, so she took off her clothes outside. As she did so, I looked round at the other tents I could see and observed that outside each one the other women were similarly disrobing.
When she was naked she went inside. I took off my trousers and laid them on the ground next to where she had put her clothes. I followed her inside.
She was lying on a rough bed made out of several old blankets thrown on the ground. There were no flaps at either end of the tent, and had she been a few inches taller, both her head and her feet would have protruded.
As I entered the tent, the sight of her naked, outstretched body aroused me. I crawled in between her legs and lay down on top of her. I ran my left hand down between our bodies, caressing first her right breast, and then reaching down and holding tightly the tuft of brittle black hair.
I supported myself with my right arm at first, then as she put her arms around me, allowed it to rest down by her side. As I entered her I felt the cold hardness of metal by her side. Taking pains not to show my awareness of this, I explored as far as I dared with my fingers, and at length decided what I could feel was the trigger and guard of a rifle.
As we copulated, I managed to push the rifle away from us and towards the edge of the tent. I am satisfied that my movements were sufficiently unobtrusive, as she showed no sign of awareness. Finally, the rifle was about twelve inches away from us, yet still covered in part by the blankets.
My preoccupation with the presence of the weapon had lessened my sexual desire and I found that my erection had diminished, even though I had continued to make movements against her. I returned my attention to the girl and her body. Because of what had happened I took much longer than normal to come to a climax, and by the time I finished we were both perspiring freely.
Afterwards we dressed and returned to the clearing. From the ribald comments of the other men I gathered we had been away longer than anyone else.
My girl lined up with the others and the second group of men went over and made their selections.
As they moved in pairs towards the outlying tents, I stepped past the others, through the tent with the trestle-table where Augustin and his woman sat in earnest conversation, and out to where we had left the handcarts.
I walked past them into the trees.
Twenty yards away I turned and looked back. Augustin was watching me suspiciously from his tent. I made a lewd gesture towards my crutch, indicating that I was about to urinate, and he waved to me. I walked on.
When I was out of sight of the encampment I turned and walked in a broad circle, keeping the camp on my left. After a while I turned in towards it again, and approached it cautiously. I came to the camp from the side. No one saw me.
/> Using every available tree and bush as cover, I moved around until I was opposite the tent where I had been. Again making sure that I was not observed, I crawled up to it on my hands and knees. I lay beside it on my stomach, the boundary rope directly above me.
Inside, the man was insulting the girl, cursing and blaspheming and insulting her race, pouring out verbal excrement about the colour of her skin.
She replied with groans of passion.
I slid my hand under the flap of the tent, found the rifle, and gripped it. With a slowness that nearly panicked me, I slid it out, then made for the cover of the trees. I secreted the rifle in the wildly growing brambles of a hawthorn bush, then returned to the camp.
As I went past Augustin he made a vulgar comment about urine. He was eating the chocolate and had brown smears on his chin.
With the closing of the college I found mys elf in the second major financial crisis of my life. For a while we existed on our savings, but within a month it was clear I would have to find an alternative occupation. Though I telephoned the administrative section of the college on several occasions, I was rarely able even to obtain an answer, let alone a satisfactory resolution to the predicament. In the meantime, I applied myself to the task of obtaining employment.
It should be understood that at this time the country was passing through a phase of extreme economic difficulty. The balance of payments policy on which John Tregarth and his government had first come to power was seen to be working badly, if at all. As a result, prices continued to rise, and an increasing number of men were made to be unemployed. At first confident of myself and my Master's Degree in English History, I toured the offices of publishers intending to pick up some temporary position as an editor or adviser. I was soon disillusioned, finding that the world of books, like virtually everything else, was cutting back on expense and staff at every opportunity. With a similarly universal sequence of sadly shaking heads, I found that the way into some form of clerical work was also barred. Manual labour was, by and large, out of the question: since the middle seventies the industrial labour-pool had been directed by the unions.
Fugue for a Darkening Island Page 6