Three Marriages by George Loukas - HTML preview

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CHAPTER XII : DIANA, AGAIN.

 

 It must have been the first week of May, about a month before Annie left. On a Thursday afternoon, I remember, I went unannounced to Annie’s room. Outside the door I heard voices and I though, uh oh, Omar’s inside and the door won’t open. But it did, and going in I saw Diana sitting on the armchair like a portrait I had seen in the National Gallery of the Spanish Infanta. She was blond, luminous and infantile. I kissed Annie and Diana got up smiling and said, hello stranger, where have you been? I returned a surprisingly affectionate pair of kisses and told her, much of the time outside South Ken station between 5.30 and 6.30. She laughed and said, oh don’t exaggerate. Are you through? I asked. Through what? Your little tantrum. She laughed and turned to Annie. Did you know your brother has a nasty streak in him? Annie looked at me. George? Never, she said. Well, he took me to the theatre, we saw a marvelous play, he offered me champagne at the bar and then we went to a restaurant and as I was about to fall in love with him he spoiled everything. It’s his sense of humor, Annie said. Diana laughed. If it is, it does get a little black sometimes, doesn’t it? Turning to me she asked, why didn’t you call me? I lost your phone number. You knew where my house is, she said. I thought you were dead against somebody sitting on someone’s doorstep, and then it wouldn’t have been very nice if Edgar came along and found me there. How is he, by the way? Oh, alive and kicking, she said with a smile. And painting? Yes. Modern painting? Mostly. Okay, I said, I’d better shut up. Annie, I invite you and Diana to a play I have been wanting to see for some time, Edward Albee’s, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf. Too late, I have already seen it with Omar, Annie said laughing. I don’t believe it, I cried. Omar’s turning intellectual? Was it good Annie? You never told me you saw it. Oh yes, fascinating. I think he took me there to turn me off marriage. Silly Omar with his head in the clouds.

Sit down, George, Annie said, I’ll make us some tea. I sat on a chair next to the Infanta who had resumed her royal stance with arms majestically reposing on the armrests of the armchair where I usually took my naps. She was nicely dressed with a beige summer frock and light brown shoes. Those blue eyes were magnetic and I kept looking at them. She smiled when she caught me at it. You shall come to the play with me, won’t you? I asked. Yes, I’d love to, she said. Edgar won’t mind? She looked at me as if to tell me, I know your game. I don’t usually ask for permission to do something that does not include him, she said. We have an open relationship. Like an open marriage? I asked with a smile. Last time you felt guilty of two-timing him by going to a play. This time you exhibit a remarkable unconcern. It’s true that much water has passed under the bridge since then. Are you still together? Annie, she called, he’s beginning to needle me. Annie came out of the bathroom where she was preparing tea and looked at me questioningly. I’m just asking simple questions, I explained. I want to know where I stand. Don’t ask any questions, George. Just be nice and tender and pretty soon you’ll know where you stand. You don’t have to sign a contract with Diana to take her to a play. She brought out three cups of tea and some biscuits and we started sipping and munching. The tea was nowhere as good as the strong Darjeeling I brewed.

We chatted for an hour or so after that. Annie was the moderator and kept the conversation flowing and my indiscretions at a minimum. I had come to respect and appreciate Annie since she came to London. In Cairo she was simply my younger sister and I did not take much notice of her. Despite our old fashioned Middle Eastern society, she was more precocious than I in our social life and certainly more liable to friendships and, I presume, experimentation with the opposite sex. However coming to London I saw a considerably more mature side of her character. She adapted well to her new environment, to her college and English colleagues. To a rather lonelier life than she was used to as well. I tried to keep this loneliness to a minimum but I had friendships that took much of my time and often had precedence to Annie’s needs of companionship. Still, not a word of complaint ever crossed her lips. When Omar began courting her, discreetly at first because she was my sister and I was well aware of his fickleness and prodigious womanizing, she responded in the same manner. Accepting his advances in increments and responding correspondingly. She was a fresh full-bodied girl with large eyes and a large, sensual mouth and her long chestnut silky hair was admired at school by girls and boys. Although not a classic beauty she was certainly very attractive and I presume, to others, very sexy. I think what attracted Omar to her was her retiring attitude. She made no demands but simply responded to his advances. There were no demands for fidelity and on her part made no promises. He told me she was not a virgin when they first made love and he understood that if she found someone else to her taste she would simply and calmly replace him. And now with her imminent marriage, I believe she had accepted its suitability and expediency. She weighed the pros and found them far outweighing the cons. The fact was, she had reached the right age for the setting out to her adult life, which was primarily society’s expectation of marriage and children. A pleasant and pleasant looking man claimed her because he fell in love with her in barely two months’ holiday in summer in Alexandria. An educated man with a good career and excellent prospects. The marriage would not be, on her side at least, the result of great love and passion but a sensible evaluation, which probably was the best ingredient for a lasting marriage. Though one might possibly call her unethical and loose for continuing her affair with Omar till the last, I tended to admire her placid level-headedness and maturity. She knew perfectly well where she stood, what she wanted, and where she was heading.

All this came to mind as the three of us drank our tea, chatted, teased and joked with one another. With Annie as a referee the teasing kept within acceptable bounds, not that I tried to antagonize Diana any more. We exchanged memories of the English School and the girls talked about the boys that impressed them, the athletes that were the school stars, and the little romances that took place mostly between the older boys and girls. We laughed at the nicknames the pupils gave to some of the staff and we wondered if they had adapted to life in England after their expulsion from Egypt. It would not have been easy. The School, at least to us pupils, was very special. It was a unique mixture of many religions, races and nationalities and it made absolutely no difference to our sense of belonging and brotherhood. That was the great achievement of the English staff. Despite their own sense of British superiority and a remoteness, which was perhaps necessary to keep a measure of discipline they cancelled all distinctions of rich and poor, Muslims, Christians, Jews and Buddhists and fostered a fraternity of equality, fair play and good manners. I told them of my last two years of delinquency and Annie was aghast. She did not even remotely suspect it. Diana talked about her job. She was tired of office work and had applied for an opportunity to teach French at a primary London Council school. She already went through an interview which had gone well and it looked as if she might take the job. The pay was not as good but she hoped the work would be fulfilling. What does Edgar think about it? I asked Diana matter of factly. None of your business, retorted Annie. Diana smiled. Okay, sorry, I said.

We left Annie round about nine and I walked Diana to South Kensington to her bus stop. Summer time clock change was in force and there was still daylight. Couples and groups of people were circulating and many shops were still open. A few pubs on the way were overflowing and people were chatting outside the premises with drinks in their hands. At times I enlaced her arm and we walked like lovers for a while. I had a good feeling. We walked on Old Brompton Road and as we passed Queensgate I showed her where I lived. I live next door to Omar, I said. Oh lucky you, she commented, he must have introduced you to many sexy girls. I smiled silently. Well, didn’t he? she insisted. We’ll exchange confidences one day, I said. I’ll tell you all about the pretty girls I met and you’ll tell me if Edgar has made you happy. Okay, she said lightheartedly. You may have noticed, I said, I am at the station waiting for the next train. She laughed. When we reached the bus station for Fulham we made a date for the play for Friday, a week hence. At a quarter past seven because the play was long and started at eight. It was on at the Apollo. I wrote her phone number on a one pound note because we did not have any paper but providently she had a biro in her handbag and I asked if I should phone to remind her. No need, she said, unless you can’t make it. And don’t spend the pound until you jot the number on your telephone list of girlfriends. I let it pass because she was not being malicious, just teasing. And her goodbye kiss was warm.