cb.booksofblood2-第15节

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　A　conversation？　she　thought；　it　must　be　a　public　holiday。
　'I　don't　know　how　to　tell　you　this。'
　'Try　me；'　she　suggested。
　She　knew　that　she　could　think　his　tongue　into　speaking　if　it　pleased　her。　Make　him　tell　her　what　she　wanted　to　hear。　Words　of　love；　maybe；　if　she　could　remember　what　they　sounded　like。　But　what　was　the　use　of　that？　Better　the　truth。
　'Darling；　I've　gone　off　the　rails　a　bit。'
　'What　do　you　mean？'　she　said。
　Have　you；　you　bastard；　she　thought。
　'It　was　while　you　weren't　quite　yourself。　You　know；　when　things　had　more　or　less　stopped　between　us。　Separate　rooms。　。　。　you　wanted　separate　rooms。　。　。　and　I　just　went　bananas　with　frustration。　I　didn't　want　to　upset　you；　so　I　didn't　say　anything。　But　it's　no　use　me　trying　to　live　two　lives。'
　'You　can　have　an　affair　if　you　want　to；　Ben。'
　'It's　not　an　affair；　Jackie。　I　love　her　…'
　He　was　preparing　one　of　his　speeches；　she　could　see　it　gathering　momentum　behind　his　teeth。　The　justifications　that　became　accusations；　those　excuses　that　always　turned　into　assaults　on　her　character。　Once　he　got　into　full　flow　there'd　be　no　stopping　him。　She　didn't　want　to　hear。
　'…　she's　not　like　you　at　all；　Jackie。　She's　frivolous　in　her　way。　I　suppose　you'd　call　her　shallow。'
　It　might　be　worth　interrupting　here；　she　thought；　before　he　ties　himself　in　his　usual　knots。
　'She's　not　moody　like　you。　You　know；　she's　just　a　normal　woman。　I　don't　mean　to　say　you're　not　normal：　you　can't　help　having　depressions。　But　she's　not　so　sensitive。'
　'There's　no　need；　Ben　…'
　'No；　damn　it；　I　want　it　all　off　my　chest。'
　On　to　me；　she　thought。
　'You've　never　let　me　explain；'　he　was　saying。　'You've　always　given　me　one　of　those　damn　looks　of　yours；　as　if　you　wished　I'd　…'　
　Die。
　'…　wished　I'd　shut　up。'
　Shut　up。
　'You　don't　care　how　I　feel！'　He　was　shouting　now。　'Always　in　your　own　little　world。'
　Shut　up；　she　thought。
　His　mouth　was　open。　She　seemed　to　wish　it　closed；　and　with　the　thought　his　jaws　snapped　together；　severing　the　very　tip　of　his　pink　tongue。　It　fell　from　between　his　lips　and　lodged　in　a　fold　of　his　shirt。
　
　Shut　up；　she　thought　again。
　The　two　perfect　regiments　of　his　teeth　ground　down　into　each　other；　cracking　and　splitting；　nerve；　calcium　and　spit　making　a　pinkish　foam　on　his　chin　as　his　mouth　collapsed　inwards。
　Shut　up；　she　was　still　thinking　as　his　startled　baby　blues　sank　back　into　his　skull　and　his　nose　wormed　its　way　into　his　brain。
　He　was　not　Ben　any　longer；　he　was　a　man　with　a　red　lizard's　head；　flattening；　battening　down　upon　itself；　and；　thank　God；　he　was　past　speech…making　once　and　for　all。
　Now　she　had　the　knack　of　it；　she　began　to　take　pleasure　in　the　changes　she　was　willing　upon　him。
　She　flipped　him　head　over　heels　on　to　the　floor　and　began　to　press　his　arms　and　legs；　telescoping　flesh　and　resistant　bone　into　a　smaller　and　yet　smaller　space。　His　clothes　were　folded　inwards；　and　the　tissue　of　his　stomach　was　plucked　from　his　neatly　packaged　entrails　and　stretched　around　his　body　to　wrap　him　up。　His　fingers　were　poking　from　his　shoulder…blades　now；　and　his　feet；　still　thrashing　with　fury；　were　tripped　up　in　his　gut。　She　turned　him　over　one　final　time　to　pressure　his　spine　into　a　foot…long　column　of　muck；　and　that　was　about　the　end　of　it。
　As　she　came　out　of　her　ecstasy　she　saw　Ben　sitting　on　the　floor；　shut　up　into　a　space　about　the　size　of　one　of　his　fine　leather　suitcases；　while　blood；　bile　and　lymphatic　fluid　pulsed　weakly　from　his　hushed　body。
　My　God；　she　thought；　this　can't　be　my　husband。　He's　never　been　as　tidy　as　that。
　This　time　she　didn't　wait　for　help。　This　time　she　knew　what　she'd　done　（guessed；　even；　how　she'd　done　it）　and　she　accepted　her　crime　for　the　too…rough　justice　it　was。
　
　She　packed　her　bags　and　left　the　home。
　I'm　alive；　she　thought。　For　the　first　time　in　my　whole；　wretched　life；　I'm　alive。
　
　Vassi's　Testimony　（part　one）
　
　'To　you　who　dream　of　sweet；　strong　women　I　leave　this　story。　It　is　a　promise；　as　surely　as　it　is　a　confession；　as　surely　as　it's　the　last　words　of　a　lost　man　who　wanted　nothing　but　to　love　and　be　loved。　I　sit　here　trembling；　waiting　for　the　night；　waiting　for　that　whining　pimp　Koos　to　e　to　my　door　again；　and　take　everything　I　own　from　me　in　exchange　for　the　key　to　her　room。
　I　am　not　a　courageous　man；　and　I　never　have　been：
　so　I'm　afraid　of　what　may　happen　to　me　tonight。　But　I　cannot　go　through　life　dreaming　all　the　time；　existing　through　the　darkness　on　only　a　glimpse　of　heaven。　Sooner　or　later；　one　has　to　gird　one's　loins　（that's　appropriate）　and　get　up　and　find　it。　Even　if　it　means　giving　away　the　world　in　exchange。
　I　probably　make　no　sense。　You're　thinking；　you　who　chanced　on　this　testimony；　you're　thinking；　who　was　he；　this　imbecile？
　My　name　was　Oliver　Vassi。　I　am　now　thirty…eight　years　old。　I　was　a　lawyer；　until　a　year　or　more　ago；　when　I　began　the　search　that　ends　tonight　with　that　pimp　and　that　key　and　that　holy　of　holies。
　But　the　story　begins　more　than　a　year　ago。　It　is　many　years　since　Jacqueline　Ess　first　came　to　me。
　She　arrived　out　of　the　blue　at　my　offices；　claiming　to　be　the　widow　of　a　friend　of　mine　from　Law　School；　one　Benjamin　Ess；　and　when　I　thought　back；　I　remembered　the　face。　A　mutual　friend　who'd　been　at　the　wedding　had　shown　me　a　photograph　of　Ben　and　his　blushing　bride。　And　here　she　was；　every　bit　as　elusive　a　beauty　as　her　photograph　'promised。
　I　remember　being　acutely　embarrassed　at　that　first　interview。　She'd　arrived　at　a　busy　time；　and　I　was　up　to　my　neck　in　work。　But　I　was　so　enthralled　by　her；　I　let　all　the　day's　interviews　fall　by　the　wayside；　and　when　my　secretary　came　in　she　gave　me　one　of　her　steely　glances　as　if　to　throw　a　bucket　of　cold　water　over　me。　I　suppose　I　was　enamoured　from　the　start；　and　she　sensed　the　electric　atmosphere　in　my　office。　Me；　I　pretended　I　was　merely　being　polite　to　the　widow　of　an　old　friend。　I　didn't　like　to　think　about　passion：　it　wasn't　a　part　of　my　nature；　or　so　I　thought。　How　little　we　know　…　I　mean　really　know　…about　our　capabilities。
　Jacqueline　told　me　lies　at　that　first　meeting。　About　how　Ben　had　died　of　cancer；　of　how　often　he　had　spoken　of　me；　and　how　fondly。　I　suppose　she　could　have　told　me　the　truth　then　and　there；　and　I　would　have　lapped　it　up　…　I　believe　I　was　utterly　devoted　from　the　beginning。
　But　it's　difficult　to　remember　quite　how　and　when　interest　in　another　human　being　flares　into　something　more　mitted；　more　passionate。　It　may　be　that　I　am　inventing　the　impact　she　had　on　me　at　that　first　meeting；　simply　re…inventing　history　to　justify　my　later　excesses。　I'm　not　sure。　Anyway；　wherever　and　whenever　it　happened；　however　quickly　or　slowly；　I　succumbed　to　her；　and　the　affair　began。
　I'm　not　a　particularly　inquisitive　man　where　my　friends；　or　my　bed…partners；　are　concerned。　As　a　lawyer　one　spends　one's　time　going　through　the　dirt　of　other　people's　lives；　and　frankly；　eight　hours　a　day　of　that　is　quite　enough　for　me。　When　I'm　out　of　the　office　my　pleasure　is　in　letting　people　be。　I　don't　pry；　I　don't　dig；　I　just　take　them　on　face　value。
　Jacqueline　was　no　exception　to　this　rule。　She　was　a　woman　I　was　glad　to　have　in　my　life　whatever　the　truth　of　her　past。　She　possessed　a　marvellous　sang…froid；　she　was　witty；　bawdy；　oblique。　I　had　never　met　a　more　enchanting　woman。　It　was　none　of　my　business　how　she'd　lived　with　Ben；　what　the　marriage　had　been　like　etc。；　etc。　That　was　her　history。　I　was　happy　to　live　in　the　present；　and　let　the　past　die　its　own　death。　I　think　I　even　flattered　myself　that　whatever　pain　she　had　experienced；　I　could　help　her　forget　it。
　Certainly　her　stories　had　holes　in　them。　As　a　lawyer；　I　was　trained　to　be　eagle…eyed　where　fabrications　were　concerned；　and　however　much　I　tried　to　put　my　percep…tions　aside　I　sensed　that　she　wasn't　quite　ing　clean　with　me。　But　everyone　has　secrets：　I　knew　that。　Let　her　have　hers；　I　thought。
　Only　once　did　I　challenge　her　on　a　detail　of　her　pretended　life…story。　In　talking　about　Ben's　death；　she　let　slip　that　he　had　got　what　he　deserved。　I　asked　her　what　she　meant。　She　smiled；　that　Gioconda　smile　of　hers；　and　told　me　that　she　felt　there　was　a　balance　to　be　redressed　between　men　and　women。　I　let　the　observation　pass。　After　all；　I　was　obsessed　by　that　time；　past　all　hope　of　salvation；　whatever　argument　she　was　putting；　I　was　happy　to　concede　it。
　She　was　so　beautiful；　you　see。　Not　in　any　two　dimen…sional　sense：　she　wasn't　young；　she　wasn't　innocent；　she　didn't　have　that　pristine　symmetry　so　favoured　by　ad…men　and　photographers。　Her　face　was　plainly　that　of　a　woman　in　her　early　forties：　it　had　been　used　to　laugh　and　cry；　and　usage　leaves　its　marks。　But　she　had　a　power　to　transform　herself；　in　the　subtlest　way；　making　that　face　as　various　as　the　sky。　Early　on；　I　thought　it　was　a　make…up　trick。　But　as　we　slept　together　more　and　more；　and　I　watched　her　in　the　mornings；　sleep　in　her　eyes；　and　in　the　evenings；　heavy　with　fatigue；　I　soon　realized　she　wore　nothing　on　her　skull　but　flesh　and　blood。　What　transformed　her　was　internal：　it　was　a　trick　of　the　will。
　And；　you　know；　that　made　me　love　her　all　the　more。
　Then　one　night　I　woke　with　her　sleeping　beside　me。　We　slept　often　on　the　floor；　which　she　preferred　to　t