A Man Called Darius Page 16

  “I think we should go away for a few days darling,” he said, “To the coast perhaps, so that you can recover at leisure... take your time... you understand.” He studied my eye wound, but stood well away from me. “I hate to see you looking like that.”

  He smiled as he pulled his cuffs to the desired length below his jacket sleeves and there was a hint of disgust in his eye as he telephoned his booking.

  I was worried. There was something in the way he moved that disturbed me and I could not understand why I felt that way.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was arranged that we should go to the south of France... to get away from everything and take in as much sun as we could... according to my Lord and Master. We were scheduled to travel in two days’ time as he was delayed by an important conference the day after he had booked the flight, so it had to be postponed. The conference could not be cancelled, but I wasn’t much concerned anyway about my trip to the sun... London, Paris or the south of France meant very little to me if I had to be with him....

  ***

  He left me alone for most of that day after he had arranged the holiday and I saw him for about half-an-hour in the afternoon when he returned to the flat to collect some documents from our wall safe, which had to be signed by some very important client before being locked up again in the vaults of Hammond & Gore’s offices.

  Jeremy telephoned me that afternoon to enquire how I was and I told him I felt a lot better but was still stiff and had difficulty in moving about, however, I was really fine in myself and he shouldn’t worry. He sounded rather depressed himself and I was far more concerned about Jeremy and his problems, than I was of my own. I wished that Sebastian would have a change of heart, so that I could see Jeremy smile again.

  “I’m coming to see you... be about half -an-hour dahling... Bye.”

  Before I could say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ Jeremy had put the phone down and I was left with only the dialling tone to keep me company. I replaced the receiver and hobbled my way into the kitchen to put the kettle on for tea, cursing myself for the time it took me to do that simple task, but grateful that I was, at least, able to move. There were times in the past, when after his beatings, that I would have to stay in bed for three or four days, but making sure that I was up and about when the Master was at home. Monty abhorred weakness of any kind... or so he told me often enough, but I could always fake a migraine when things got too bad, and even that excuse was just tolerated...

  Jeremy arrived at 3.30pm precisely. I had made the tea but he didn’t want anything to eat. We sat in the lounge listening to some Chopin, which Jeremy particularly liked, but I was becoming concerned, that after his burst of determination, if not enthusiasm, to come and see me, he had so very little to say. I became alarmed too, when I could see by his face, that although we were sitting silently listening to the music, he apparently didn’t hear a note. His eyes were blank and he stared ahead as though preoccupied with something of which I was no part.

  “Jeremy... Jeremy, it’s the Polonaise. I thought you were a devoted fan of Chopin,” I called out to him, but he only sat still with not even the flicker of an eyelid. “Jeremy... if you don’t want to listen to the music... can we please talk?” I asked and a weak smile played around his lips as he looked at me.

  “I’m sorry Frannie... what did you say? Yes, the music is lovely. My favourite, you know... as a matter of fact.”

  I took his hand in mine.

  “Well, you could have fooled me and I don’t think Mr. Chopin would be very pleased either.”

  He smiled again and stared out of the window, as I turned the music low and watched his reaction, but he just continued to smile. A smile without peace or resolve; a smile that concluded something in his mind... and something which only he knew about... and I was afraid.

  “Jeremy... Why did you agree with me in the hospital and tell the staff that I had fallen down the stairs, when we both knew that was a silly excuse?” He sipped his tea slowly, screwing up his eyes as if the liquid was too hot. Tight slits of eyes that saw nothing.... “Jeremy... Jeremy,” I called again and he stirred and bit his lip as I touched his ear.

  “Yes Frannie... what was that you said?

  I repeated my question slowly, but it made no impression. He continued to stare with unseeing eyes. Then suddenly he seemed to come to life again.

  “It doesn’t matter Frannie, does it … Let’s face it, whether he has beaten you up, or you had actually fallen down the stairs... or up the bloody stairs... WHO CARES? You can’t... and he won’t....”

  I was hurt and disappointed at his answer until he suddenly took hold of my hand.

  “But I care, Frannie... I care very, very much,” he went on and he kissed my hand when he said that.

  “You are sweet Jeremy... you really are and I appreciate your concern, but I hope to have a divorce soon... very soon... and things should be better after that.”

  He sighed and his face was pale.

  “But dahling... will he give you a divorce? It takes two to make a bargain, you know. Will you ever be free? You’re like me Frannie... a prisoner of your own love.”

  I pulled my hand away quickly from his grasp.

  “I don’t love him Jeremy... I never have done,” I spluttered and he reached out and took my hand again.

  “But you are faithful to him, Frannie and that is love... of the very highest kind, I would say. I would have valued that from Sebastian.”

  I moved uncomfortably in my chair and took a deep, slow breath to try to relieve the pain in my chest. I thought of my dear mother and of all her endurance in the pain she suffered throughout her life, because of the unfaithfulness of my father and I understood, only too well what Jeremy was saying... but I still felt cold towards Monty.

  “I have a respect for marriage... that’s all. I don’t think it is something to be entered into lightly,” I said and I know I must have sounded very trite and hypocritical, as Jeremy walked over to the French doors and opened them.

  “And Monty,” he said solemnly, “Does he share your sentiments there?”

  There seemed to be a note of sarcasm in his voice when he said that and yet he looked so sober... so sensibly clean and honest.

  “That is his concern,” I replied... “I can’t make him do or feel something he does not choose to do... everybody is different.”

  Jeremy stepped out onto the veranda and looked up at the sky, just as a host of small birds circled past in a flutter, twittering excitedly and hovering above his head. He laughed and held his hands in the air.

  “They come here nearly every day, Jeremy. There’s a small tin dish out there in the corner, near the miniature roses. It has water in it. They like a drink and you’ll see a brown paper bag in the corner, to the right of you. That’s birdseed and bread crumbs. They’ll expect you to feed them if you stay out there any longer.”

  Jeremy appeared to spring into life at that moment and reached down for the bag. He opened it like an excited schoolboy and spread a thin layer of seeds over the low railings, pushing the little water tray as far out to the edge of the veranda as he could manage ...then he turned to face me as I stood in the lounge.

  “What freedom they have Frannie... look! They nibble out there without a care... without any fear. Aren’t they marvellous? Height means nothing to them... they can fly wherever they please.”

  The mad, frenzied, excited twittering went on for a few moments as the feast lasted and I tried to look across at this fiasco, but my chest ached as I moved.

  “I can’t come over Jeremy... my chest aches a little, but they will come to you and rest on your hand if you stand very, very still. “

  At that moment the Polonaise came to its crescendo with a loud bang and the bird community flew away into the sky, circling around again in the air and coming back to settle on the veranda
railing, like a line of disciplined soldiers standing to attention... only they were perched...

  “Shall I put another record on? “ I asked, secretly hoping that he would do it. I really did not want to move any more than was absolutely necessary. “Or perhaps it is time for you to go,” I enquired as I was afraid the Monty might return at any moment.

  “No,” he said, “I think I’ll wait and see Monty when he comes in, if you don’t mind. I’d like to wish you both a bon voyage and wish you all good things wherever you... well I wish you both a very restful, stress-free time.”

  “Oh Please, Jeremy... please don’t wait for him. You know what he’s like... He’ll only insult you. You can come back tomorrow. We don’t leave until late in the evening and I’ll phone you and let you know when he is not here. I’ll give him your very best wishes of course, when he does come home.” I spurted my words nervously.... just hoping that Jeremy would go... and go quickly, before he did came home, but Jeremy ignored my request, and very placidly fed some more crumbs to the birds, accidentally tipping the water dish to the floor and it jangled across the veranda, making another exodus of our feathered friends... this time to disappear into the air.

  “Oh dear, I’ve terrified the little fellow by my carelessness. Will they come back again Frannie, do you think?”

  He raised his hand to shield his eyes as he gazed into the brightening sky.

  “I don’t think so... at least not for a little while. Please Jeremy... please leave now. I’ll feel much happier if you do.” I pleaded, but he ignored me again and walked towards the record player.

  “I think I’d like to hear another record Frannie. Do you keep your collection here?”

  He slid open the cabinet door below the record player and pulled out a few sleeves to study the titles and I knew then that he would not go until he came home.

  “A sombre one perhaps dahling, eh? My mood is not what you would call jovial is it?

  I abandoned all hope that Jeremy would go as I wished and had to trust that all would be well when Monty did eventually come home.

  “Are you still so unhappy Jeremy?” I asked and he dusted a record as he answered me, but his voice sounded resigned, as though he had completely capitulated to his loss.

  “Oh, I’m beginning to get used to it now Frannie. I will never be free of Sebastian, but I have to live, haven’t I... and I can’t allow him to rule my life.” He put the record on the turntable and sighed, “I miss him terribly though dahling... I really, really do,” he added sadly.

  The music strains were low and plaintive and I wished he would turn the thing off, but he returned to the French doors and gazed out again at the sky.

  ***

  Monty came back to the flat about fifteen minutes later and Jeremy and I had said nothing, but just listened to the desolate strains of the Miserere.

  “Hello, my darling. How are you feeling now? A little …” Monty stopped in his tracks as soon as he spotted Jeremy standing by the window.

  “Oh, I see you have a visitor. Well, I hope he has managed to cheer you up. You were pretty miserable this morning when I left you. Come on … let’s have a big smile now. Things are never as bad as they seem... and let’s have this bloody dirge off for a start.”

  He switched the music off, kicking the plug away from the wall with his foot as he glowered harshly at Jeremy.

  “We would ask you to stay for tea old man, but we’re sure you have other more important things to do, so Goodbye.” Monty sneered as he looked around the room. “Have you a coat or something or did you come just like... like that?”

  Jeremy shook his head unconcernedly.

  “I came just as you see me. It isn’t cold,” he said and kept staring out of the window, without looking at Monty.

  I tried to ease the tension that I knew was building as I struggled towards the kitchen.

  “Let me get you both something to eat,” I said, “I’m feeling a lot better now.”

  Jeremy moved to assist me and walked with me into the kitchen, where he helped me to sit down again, pressing my arm gently with his fingers and peering into my eyes, as though there was some hidden message he wanted me to understand. His calm attitude puzzled me but he appeared to be in complete control of his actions as he left me sitting in the kitchen and walked slowly back into the lounge. I could hear voices... muffled voices, but I could not understand what was being said... then I thought I heard a scuffle after which Jeremy spoke loud and clear in a very deliberate and matter-of-fact tone.

  “It is time you stopped all this silly nonsense and left Frannie alone. I won’t tolerate it, do you hear?” I could hear Jeremy shout and I was stunned at the authoritative way in which he made his commend, but I was afraid of the consequences of his actions and I wanted to get back into the room quickly as I imagined his response to Jeremy’s ultimatum. I heard a guttural sound as Monty began to shout. Then there was the sound of furniture being thrown about and the voices got louder by the second. I couldn’t move as fast as I wanted to before I heard more scuffling and a loud piercing scream, accompanied by the sound of broken glass. I could feel my blood running cold as the terrifying scream faded into the distance and I hobbled painfully back into the lounge in terror. I stood in shock for a second before I realized what had happened. There was no-one in the lounge... both men had gone... over the balcony and I heard a sickening thud as they hit the hard concrete of the street below ...and there was another squawking, screeching chorus from the birds.

  It seemed an eternity before I got into the lift and down to street level, where a crowd had already gathered and I could see a policeman rushing towards the scene.

  “Get back there... Get back, I say.” the policeman ordered and I saw Monty first, lying on his back, with both arms outstretched and his eyes wide open and staring. Blood oozed from the back of his head onto the pavement and I knew his skull had been crushed by the fall. I looked about for Jeremy, but I couldn’t see him until a woman standing nearby screamed and fainted. Jeremy was nearer to me than I thought. His body was impaled on the railings leading to the basement flat. He groaned and I rushed towards him, falling about everywhere as I went.

  “Jeremy... oh God, Jeremy what has happened. Speak to me, Jeremy.”

  I tried to cradle him in my arms but the spike had penetrated too deeply for him to move. His right arm was broken and lay at an angle, jutting from his side. His eyes flickered in recognition of me and I felt helpless as I looked around for someone to help me release him from his torture, but he simply shook his head and smiled strangely.

  “No Frannie... No,” he said softly....”You are free now, my love... FREE at last... We are BOTH free.”

  A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth onto my arm... and he closed his eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I don’t think I ever experienced such intense sadness and desolation in my life like I did when Jeremy died. Perhaps it was the circumstances of his death that affected me so deeply, because he did give me the freedom that I sought, but not in the way I had anticipated. Even the deaths of my parents didn’t have such an effect to cause me such profound grief, reluctant though I am to admit it. I must have been closer and more loving towards Jeremy than I imagined, because after he died, my world was a more clouded and darker place and not just after his death, but for months after... Even now, I feel a loneliness and yearning for the love and affection of the man who could never have been my lover... and certainly could never have married me. I still miss him terribly and can be moved to tears in a moment when I think of him and I have often wondered what Sebastian must be thinking now... if ever he takes the time to think.

  The double funeral had been awkward to handle too and I arranged for Monty to be cremated. It was his own wish that it should be and I was happier with that, but I couldn’t have Jeremy cremated. I wanted him b
uried, so that I could always feel a nearness to him. I could envisage visiting his grave when I needed to talk to him and also I wanted to inscribe my own verse on his tombstone... (It would have been impossible for me to write anything on Monty’s grave if he had been buried, and what I might have inscribed there would have caused resentment and anger to many... to say the least.)

  ‘No greater love hath any man... than that he lay down his life for his friend.’

  I knew that was what I wanted to put on Jeremy’s headstone, when the time came for it to be erected... and I knew that Jeremy would have been modestly pleased at what I had done....”Well done dahling... well done.” I could hear him say, time and time again and each time, I cried with the memory.

  The cremation was done the day before Jeremy’s funeral for several reasons. I wanted to get Monty and all he stood for, out of my life as quickly as possible... even in his death and I wanted to be able to grieve in peace and at length without hurrying... for Jeremy. I know tongues probably wagged, but there was nothing I could do about that and I knew also that they would probably have wagged a lot more if they knew the whole truth of my marriage which was a complete and utter farce.

  I have always felt that there is a particular grief associated with the passing of a loved one, before they are put down into the earth and I sat up all night beside Jeremy’s coffin just running my fingers across the brass plate, which held his name. He was telling me he was there and I was wishing with all my heart that he hadn’t done what he did. I am aware that he gave me my freedom... and as he said, took his own freedom too... but at what a price, and once again, I thought of Sebastian and perhaps, strangely perverse... I wanted him to be there. I wanted him to know just how much Jeremy had loved him with so much utter selflessness. I think there are those who are born to love in this world; the givers, who will always suffer from their generosity and then those who accept love readily; almost greedily... the takers, who can never get enough.