Carmen was evidently classified as a "professor". Whatever, she was unable to obtain a job in her highly qualified sphere. A teacher.
Excitement one morning. Letter arrived telling her a position may be available, her name being picked out from the "List" (those that had paid). She and I trundled off on the tram, Carmen most elevated at the very idea of actually having work. Strangely, I thought, the meeting was not in an office, but in a rather run down apartment full of people, whispering people, Carmen, white faced, indicating that all appointments were controlled from these rooms. Silence, secrecy and money apparently being the key words to the negotiations.
We went out into the stifling hot street. She was clasping some papers, we were running for a tram, only when well away did she open up... that she had been offered an appointment on the Island of Capri. Thought of Gracie Fields, she had always warbled about that place, which was in the year dot.
... Decided that she and I would go to The Island, but only for the Day! ... one other impediment ... she had to take a chaperon! ... someone to watch over us ... Felt very deflated at this turn up. My idea was to have it away on the "Romantic Island" finally free of the family, Carmen and I having been watched intensely by the Mother, watched to the point of distraction.
Trooped down to the Quay at Naples docks... Such a lovely morning. Reminded me of other mornings, other Docks, other ships. The boat to take us, no mean affair. 80ft of impressive Italian fast boat building, looking as if it could fly. One long transom deck, wheelhouse right forward. Ten minutes before it took off. Looked at my watch, looked at the dog of a chaperon, thought that there may be some way of getting rid of her before boarding.
Watched the movements on the deck, seamen lounging about, vessel slowly filling with shuffling people. We had eight minutes, suggested to the guard that it may be a good idea for her to run up and get some soft drinks and sandwiches, she looked as if about to refuse, produced a bundle of Lira pushed it in her hand ... she trundled off, up the jetty. Took Carmen's hand and pulled her on the boat. By the movements of the seamen we had about three minutes before they cast off. Suddenly Carmen saw my little game and started as if to climb back ashore ... a real panic ... what would her Mother say!! .... not possibly go without the dog!! ... They let go forward, the engine revved, deep powerful. Could see little fat legs running back towards us, but too late. They let go aft and we were away, a tremendous surge of power, white, turbulent, wash rushing away behind us, bows lifting clear, the wind suddenly blowing fresh and cool in our faces. Momentarily imagined Carmen would jump over the side, such was her consternation at my ruse.
Rushing across the water, thought off all history that had been made on this very course, .. all the centuries of men who had travelled over this stretch of sea.
Carmen stopped crying finally, especially as I had found a niche to jam her into and was stroking her body, unobtrusively as possible.
Capri stretched straight out from the sea, reached straight up into the sky. Which was my impression. It would be difficult to imagine a horizontal spot anywhere. Enough room on the beach for the bus and that was about all. Looked upward at the zigzagging road almost in disbelief, that anything with wheels could negotiate such a precipitous route.
Evidently the Bus was self leveling, wending its weary way to the top of the mountain. At each sharp curve, the rear stuck straight out over the sea. My impression, most certainly Carmen's ... simply kept her eyes closed tightly, her hands gripping mine.
She disregarded all my attempts to way lay her once we reached the top, to a comparative level civilisation, insisting "Business before Pleasure". The school, the only one, at the bottom of a crater. Waited while she picked her way down, looking good. Long, smart, black coat, black hair cascading about her shoulders, her size five shoes, delicate on the worn curving granite stair way.
A long way from Hackney, looking at the incredible view, a long way from the heat and dust of Australia. Without doubt, I, an alien here... these people had never heard of Hackney and its running sores of humanity. Everything here, just so. An unreal world in an unreal setting.
Carmen a very long time, a long time before she came tripping back up the steps, very pleased with herself ... would have to move here once the appointment was confirmed in writing. I could hardly think of a better spot to be with the children. Thoughts of Townsend House, the roses, shadows from the gaunt building, stretching across the green grass on the hot, still, afternoons. Again, another Planet.
Still worried about the mother, Carmen insisted on ringing home, to tell some lie, as to my duplicity, more to get herself off the hook. For my part, more concerned with spending a couple of hours with Carmen, somewhere flat, somewhere away from prying eyes, a big problem to my ingenuity. Time ebbing away too fast. She made the call, obviously they realised what had happened, we had given the Dog the slip.
Started to give up, walking hand in hand, no hiding place for us... to descend the mountain, nothing more than a goat path. Half way down, discovering a tiny Church jutting out of the rock. Such a masterpiece of simple architecture. Pushed at the door, it swung open. Cool, silent, deserted. Lifted a very reluctant Carmen inside, going down together in the silence, the polished floor, behind the Altar. Again Townsend House, that Sunny Summer afternoon, Beth and I ... the deserted dormitory. Long shadows from tall windows. Virginia, the children clinging to her skirt, waiting at the bottom of the Marble stairway. The soft sea could be heard then.
Beyond the deep sighs..... wave against rock.
Nothing changes.
Niciun comentariu:
Trimiteți un comentariu