CHAPTER XXV : ALICE, MARIAN, HELEN.
The third trimester of Diana’s pregnancy continued without the slightest complication. I think that was due to the exercises she meticulously did without skipping a day and the long walks we took together despite the winter cold which was often bitter. A slight back pain troubled her early in the morning but faded away with the exercises and in the last stages her breasts were tender and leaked a watery pre-milk fluid called colostrum. During her last month she visited her doctor at the hospital every week with her mother, and the baby as well as her body began adapting for the final event. A few weeks prior to it I arrived slightly earlier in Brighton and bought a cot for the baby with the appropriate sheets and a pram that would be used during the first few months. It was the least repayment for the hospitality I enjoyed in their house even if I had certain rights as Diana’s husband. Diana, meanwhile, had bought a batch of baby clothes and showed them to me laughing merrily. Her good humor was constant, at least when I was there and constant was her need for our lovemaking.
Her labor pains started unexpectedly slightly earlier than her doctor predicted. Mrs. Fremantle called a taxi and took her straight to hospital and Diana gave birth to a healthy baby girl. Mrs. Fremantle called me next day in the evening when she was sure I would be at home. Dear George, congratulations, she said, and I understood straightaway that Diana had given birth. Is Diana all right? was my first question. Yes, yes, and so is Alice, Marian, Helen. A lovely baby girl, George, the spitting image of our Diana. I am so sorry not to have been by her side at that crucial moment, I said. Don’t worry, George, she shall be out of hospital within the next three days and you will see them both on Friday at home. I went up to Omar and announced that I was a father. He smiled. A bit early, old man, but congratulations anyway, he said. I shall come around sometime to wish Diana all the best but not now, of course, in a few weeks. He had seen Edgar Mackenzie and I hoped there would not be enough of a resemblance for him to notice. What is her name? he asked. He laughed when I gave him the string of names. Wasn’t one name enough for the heiress of your vast fortune? His comments were always prickly but to the point. A bit early, old man, was more than that. It was totally realistic. When I went to Hove and saw Diana and Alice I was thrilled and full of love for my darling wife and the blue-eyed baby, which even at that early stage resembled unmistakably her mother and was indeed the loveliest newborn I had ever seen but, as I had foreseen, perturbed our happy, easygoing routine. To start with Alice had to be breast-fed every few hours, had to have her nappies changed as often, was self-centered and cried for attention much too often and at all times, day and night, and Diana forgot her healthy need for sex, which in any case would not have been able to indulge in during those first days after giving birth. Her happiness and sense of humor intact she advised me to go sleep with her mother if Alice was too much of a good thing for me. But it was enough for me to lie in bed with my beloved Diana and hold her in my arms when baby Alice allowed it and snatch a few hours of sleep.
A routine of sorts was established with the baby after the magic forty days following birth and we managed to sleep more or less normally as Alice settled to a reasonable program of feeding and sleeping. Diana’s tummy did not contract completely and the doctor told her it would take a few months to regain her normal shape provided she kept up her exercises. Her peace of mind partially restored with the established routine, her interest in sex reappeared and our lovemaking was as wonderful as ever. I had the pleasant role of the absent father who was there only during the weekend. Not that it was a hardship role for me while I was in Hove. I enjoyed holding the baby and walking to and fro to get her to sleep and I truly loved and felt she was my daughter but it was not a situation that was tenable for a college student. The lack of adequate sleep would have been detrimental to my concentration. I began departing slightly earlier on the Sundays to be able to take a much needed nap in my room in Queensgate. I was by that time working earnestly for the end of year exams. I could not afford to miss a subject or two which would require a repetition of the year. I was happy to see that Omar was following my example. I had not expected such diligence from him.
We exchanged letters with Annie roughly once a month. They were on both sides in the same vein as the first letter. A vague, diffuse and not clearly stated dissatisfaction with her life and marriage. Nothing concrete to put your finger on and I believe it was mainly due to the fact that she could not conceive. On that issue she seemed to have given up hope. Apart of that, a polite, hard-working and unexciting Tasos seemed not to satisfy her life in the absence of a pregnancy and the promise of a family life with children. I downplayed the issue and told her that her forthcoming holidays in Alexandria in the coming month would be a change which would relax her and cheer her up. I wrote that Diana and the baby Alice were doing well and that I had visited Aunt Agatha following her wishes. That I was studying hard for my imminent exams as I could not afford to disappoint our father who was probably not very happy with my marriage in the first place.
In early June both Omar and I sat for our Part I examinations. We, both of us, gave it a determined last spurt of intense revision during the two previous weeks. I did not go to Hove on weekends or during the ten following days of the actual examinations. That meant almost a whole month that I did not see my darling Diana. I missed her and Alice and Mrs. Fremantle as well and we talked on the phone every evening. This companionship with Omar was a tremendous boost of psychic energy to keep us going. We had hearty breakfasts together usually at Lyons in South Kensington, a light lunch in order to return to our books after a strong coffee usually in his room, and also a light early dinner. We found that eating lightly helped to keep us alert and energetic even if pangs of hunger struck late at night. A few biscuits and a cup of tea, however, were enough to overcome this gnawing need for food. There was much anxiety before the examinations but once in the soup it was almost routine especially since both of us seemed to have done reasonably well.
I finished my examinations a day ahead of Omar. I intended to leave the next day for Hove but Omar asked me to delay my trip for a day so we would have a celebratory dinner together. The exam results would not be announced for another month but we were both confident that we would pass in all our subjects. That last evening we went to the Chanterelle and had a wonderful, tasty dinner with a bottle of Beaujolais and light-hearted merry conversation. I told Omar that I would leave the next day for Hove and he can begin his much delayed sexual exploits. He laughed and said he was thinking of going to Egypt for a month. His father, a former military man who had become a high-powered businessman handling Egyptian army contracts and making loads of money, promised Omar that if he came to Egypt there would be no problem getting him out again since he was enrolled in a recognized university. I haven’t been to Egypt for over four years, he said, and my dad wants me to shake hands with my three-month-old half-brother. And another thing, in our traditional familial politics I have to stay in the good graces of my stepmother or else who knows into what intrigues I might get involved. I know for sure that the bulk of my dad’s money will now go to the little one. It’s the way things work in Egypt but it’s in my interest to avoid severing diplomatic relations, which will make a bad deal a lot worse. And how’s Annie? he asked. She’s fine, I answered. She’ll be going to Egypt to see our parents. And her husband? He’s going to Athens to see his. Omar’s face brightened. So the marriage is not working, he said. How did you come to that conclusion? I asked. It’s obvious you nitwit. Separate holidays and hardly a year married? Is she pregnant? I don’t know, I said. Oh come off it, George. If she were, you’d bloody well know it. Wasn’t this the point of that marriage? Perhaps you know more than I do, I said. In any case what’s it to you? He smiled. Plenty, he said, and none of your business.
Next day, Hove. It was wonderful to be free of the constant subconscious worry of studies and to see my darling Diana. She looked wonderful. She had put on a little weight and was almost shining with health. Alice had grown almost miraculously in that one month. More than ever she resembled Diana. She was now three months old, recognized and smiled at her mother and looked at me and Mrs. Fremantle with interest. She made different baby sounds and when a finger was placed in her tiny hand would take hold of it. She was good natured and would only cry when hungry otherwise a little toy dangling above her on her cot would keep her occupied and happy for hours. Mrs. Fremantle was the ideal, non-interfering grandmother. I was particularly flattered when she greeted me on my arrival saying, dear George, welcome. We missed you direly. So nice to have you with us again. And so I became a fulltime father for the three summer months helping Diana with the baby, taking it for walks with her in the pram, helping to bathe her and generally helping where not much help was needed as Diana had managed pretty well by herself when I was absent. She was lucky to be completely normal even following childbirth with no sign of postpartum depression that bedevils some women and brings on a lack of interest in sex. On the contrary my super-normal Diana, after the first two weeks or so when she was too involved with Alice, and her genitals were recovering from birth, returned to her former avidity for intercourse. Furthermore, now that Diana was breastfeeding we had a period of grace before her menstrual cycle returned to normal when precautions would have to be taken to avoid another pregnancy. Our passionate, varied and exhilarating sex resumed to its former levels.
Once a week I spent a day and night at 95 Queensgate to check on my correspondence and to check whether our exam results were out. I also took the opportunity to visit Aunt Agatha and to announce the birth of Alice. She congratulated me and said she hoped to see the baby sometime. She asked if Annie was well and if a baby was on the way. I said, not yet, and she asked me to send Annie her best wishes and tell her not to delay the pregnancy too much because it would be detrimental to her marriage. I did not elaborate on Annie’s problems and I left promising another visit soon. Meanwhile, during my month’s absence, my father-in-law Mr. Charles Fremantle was retired from the Foreign Office, spent two days in Hove and Mrs. Fremantle having spent two snore-bound nights lying awake next to him packed him off to London. He happily installed himself in their Fulham flat where he seemed content in his solitude at home, his football matches on the telly and the decent chaps at his club. Like many elderly people he considered his peace of mind sacred after a lifetime’s toil to survive and feed a family and no baby, not even a grandchild, was going to spoil it. I thought it advisable that not even a son-in-law should disturb this sacred need and I only spoke to him on the telephone to wish him a happy retirement.
About the middle of July our examination results were out and happily both Omar and I passed in all our subjects. Omar had already left for Egypt and I sent him a telegram with the good news. The rest of the summer went by like a peaceful dream taking care of Alice; with walks mornings and afternoons to the seaside, seeing little Alice develop her cognitive faculties and taking an interest in her surroundings, smiling at me and her grandmother and starting to hold her head upright. When the weather was particularly warm Diana dared to give her a quick dip in the sea, which she seemed to enjoy and then letting her lie unclothed a few minutes in the clement English sun. Like most children she enjoyed being pushed in her pram and I was thinking that very soon we would have to buy a perambulator where she would sit upright for her walks. In our peaceful evenings we would sit and chat with Mrs. Fremantle in the parlor and when she opened the television I would retire in a corner with a book until Diana would invariably creep silently from behind, snatch my book from my hands telling me with an impish smile, enough bla-bla for today, one more word from you and I’ll go cuckoo. Get up, old boy, you have a daughter to feed and a wife to take care of. Mrs. Fremantle would mutter, this girl’s sense of humor is deteriorating by the day. Then off we’d go upstairs to feed a semi-slumbering Alice who sucked on Diana’s nipples with closed eyes and on to our wide double bed to feed our own sexual hunger.
At the beginning of September I found Omar in his room at 95 Queensgate. It was a joyful reunion. My God, George, he said, it’s great to be back. It’s great to be back in this narrow little room where I have to do the shopping and go to the launderette to wash my underwear, to go out for my meals and have to put up with the rain and depressing gray skies and where I have to put shillings in the gas meter to warm my room and even then, when the weather is super cold, to nearly freeze to death. Despite all that, despite all the comforts in Cairo and the money and car at my disposal, I wouldn’t live in that lousy country for all the money in the world. Well, I met Walid my brother and so what? I felt absolutely no bond with him. After all he’s only a baby and part of the reason of my disgust is, of course, my stepmother. She has taken on airs and quite forgot that not so long ago she was my father’s thirty-pounds-a-month secretary. One cannot transform pig’s fur into silk. She is half my father’s age and that’s her trump card. And she’s none too subtle about it. She was bossing me in my own house where I grew up and is bossing my dad who has become a well-known businessman and is making a fortune. And I know she will badger and manipulate him until he wills the bulk of his money to Walid. But that’s not the point. His money does not interest me. The fact is that Egypt is not for me. The mentality, the people, the ignorance, the religious fanaticism are alien to me. I left all that behind and could not possibly go back to it. Don’t you feel the same, George? I said I did. At least, he said with a smile, one good thing came out of this trip, I met her. Who? I asked. Who else, you nitwit? Annie, of course.