Ladies From Hell by Keith Roberts Read Free Book Online

thought,” I said gently. “It’s just … well, a bit difficult to explain.”
    She was breathing through her nose like a bad-tempered pony. She said, “Why don’t you
try…
”
    “Well,” I said carefully, “it’s a matter of background really. Am models, I know; but you see both her parents arepainters, she’s been brought up with it. It’s a nice idea of course, it was sweet of you to offer; but I wouldn’t want you embarrassed …”
    She looked up. She said, “You think I wouldn’t
dare
!”
    I shrugged.
    You know, what I go for in women is their decisiveness. It’s one of the few things they really do have in common with cats. One moment she was sitting down, the next she was on her feet. Her hand went to her neck; and the dress peeled away, with a rustle and a waft of scent. As I’d thought, it was all she was wearing. She shook her hair, walked toward me and stood looking down. By which time of course there was nowhere to go except forward. She’d fallen among the apples all right, tripped right over the fruitbowl; all that stuff about Nymphs, and running water. I lay back; she gave herself a sweetie, said “Don’t come out” in a hard little voice and climbed aboard. Amazing what you can get now and then by lying back; it was something poor old George still had to learn.
    She was good; and she was hungry. I suppose one might have said Good and Hungry. Getting up afterwards, she had an Erotic Event. Some hot gel landed on my foot, which brought me up to scratch again; so the second round took place in the bathroom. Halfway through the third the Overseer walked in. She was trying it Roman style by that time; she’d put Coventina’s chain round her neck and slung it over her back to stop the U-bolt knocking me unconscious, but he didn’t seem impressed. Neither did she. I wondered arbitrarily what she’d try to cover up, only having one pair of hands. She settled for her eyes; I’m sure if I’d had a pile of sand handy she’d have gone for it head first, poor little bugger. After he’d shut the door, and the Barn had stopped shaking, she tried to disentangle herself; but I wasn’t having that, not with me on a hat trick. She wasn’t too pleased about that either. “You,” she said, “are quite the most … unfeeling man … I
know
!”
    But that isn’t true, it was never true. Comeback to me, my Grey Lady, and I’ll show you how I feel. I love you, for your splendour; as I love them all.
    I took her up to the House later on, for James to look after; I knew they’d find her a bed. Lucky the old devil sits up all hours drinking. The shock had got to her by then. She didn’t answer when I said goodnight, didn’t even look at me. When I got back there were lights on in the lounge but the Overseer wasn’t in evidence. I left the Barn again by the side door, taking the rest of the wine with me. I didn’t really want to have a heart-to-heart with him till he’d got things more in perspective.
    There’s a raised walk overlooking the Rose Gardens. There’s a summerhouse at one end with a balustrade of crumbling stone; from it you can see down to the brook, the humped, silent masses of trees. I sat and warmed my feet on the moon, like one of Daudet’s rabbits. She’d wanted so little, really; to be the Nymph, and wear a chain of rusty iron, and sink her poor, parched, Official little body in a deep green brook. Just once, before it got too late; and why, why ever not? Instead; well, that didn’t matter. It was in the past already. And I couldn’t have stopped her if I’d wanted to, I’d never seen a woman so determined to peel. I told myself, if you poke your fingers into a train of cogs you’re going to get hurt; that’s rule one. It didn’t help though. Her face kept getting in the way; pale, lips parted a little, eyes staring at the wall. If she’d been crying it wouldn’t have been so bad. She couldn’t stay on the Attachment of course; that was obvious. To leave it