Killing Violets, Tanith Lee [the two towers ebook .TXT] 📗

table rattled, and round her dropped, fellow casualties, bits of china, glass, cutlery, and the pot of dorisa, also red, to break and shatter. He trod the glass and blooms under, and drawing back his foot, he kicked her again, full in the stomach.

This was death. Surely it was. Blackness bulged, with inflamed edges, nausea, and a swimming out. Voices called in ocean.

Then only one voice, Árpád’s voice, shouting in her face, his spittle hitting her like the foam.

She felt it under her hand, and brought it round, not really thinking, and slid her arm powerlessly, half-caressingly, up his body, as if making love to him. And then she stroked over his shoulder and stuck the knife, the sharp knife from the bread, straight into his throat, where she knew, even in the state she had reached, that it would kill him.

There was no longer noise, but for a throbbing and grinding in her ears. Hot sea water had dashed her face and neck, nothing else, and then one last heavy light thing, his arm falling across her body, as it had sometimes done in deepest sleep.

When she woke, the day was already beginning to be hot. Light flushed the room.

She had been sleeping by him on the floor, and he was still asleep. How silly of them, not to have moved to the bed. But it had been the night of carnival, hadn’t it?

Anna knew she had drunk too much. Her head, her entire face and body, ached, and in her belly there was a large black stone, heavy, and pulling on her. She got up, and retched, but then the illness subsided. She drank some water. She took her bag from the cupboard. What an odd way that curtain hung…

She would have to go quickly to the shop. She was very late, she knew she was.

Only as she went down the stairs did she think she had not said goodbye to him, or even tried to wake him. But then, he would want to sleep.

On the street, people glanced at her, very often. She must look a sight. She had forgotten to wash her face and comb her hair.

And she had the dress on still, the white dress. And look, she had spilt some red wine on it, like the other girl with the expensive jacket.

But she owned this dress. Árpád had bought it for her. The stain didn’t matter.

On the tram, it came to her she still had on her mask, which covered the eyes. She thought of taking it off, but simply couldn’t be bothered.

On the tram too she was stared at, but then they turned away. Once an old woman came up to her. The old woman spoke to her in a hushed voice, and Anna could not understand what she said. All at once, she had forgotten the language of this place. How strange, she had been in the city for a year or more – or was she mistaken? What was the name of this place?

As she was getting off the tram, somehow she fell to her knees.

Some people rushed up to her and tried to lift her, questioning her anxiously, excitedly.

Anna grasped some of the words. She said, but only in French, “No, thank you. I’m quite all right. Please don’t distress yourself.” She said this brightly and firmly, to show she knew her own mind. She was acutely embarrassed.

Someone else had said to her, she thought, that about not distressing herself. But Anna wasn’t distressed.

She walked trimly along the street to the dress-shop, and went straight through, where an assistant stood, her hands flying up to her mouth like hungry birds.

There was no one in any of the back rooms, nor in the dressing room. Some flies buzzed in tangerine sunlight. Even empty, there was the smell of scent and make-up and women.

It was a nice smell, Anna had liked it. Now she doubled over, and water erupted from her throat and mouth.

When she raised her head, the lesbian woman, Peepy, was poised in the doorway in her dark blue muslin.

Anna laughed, still embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry. I drank too much last night. How awful. And I’m late.”

Peepy said slowly, as if she too were finding her way about in an alien language, “No, it’s only morning yet, Anna. Why don’t you sit down?”

And then Peepy came up to her and led her to the chair, and sat her there.

“Oh, my dear,” said Peepy.

Anna thought, after all, Peepy was going to want to make love to her. And although Anna didn’t mind, she hoped Peepy wouldn’t, exactly now. For Anna felt so sick, so dizzy, and this stone in her womb weighed so heavily and hurt so much, and there was another pain too, but what was it?

Peepy had put a second chair in front of Anna, and raised her legs gently on to it. Then she pulled Anna’s skirt right up to her hips. Oh God.

“It’s all right, darling,” said Peepy, “don’t be frightened.”

“No, I’m not – but – couldn’t we wait a little.”

“No, darling. We mustn’t wait.”

But what was Peepy doing? She had bundled a costly garment, now another, from the rail, and was stuffing them in quite hard up between Anna’s legs.

Anna giggled with genuine astonished laughter.

“What are you doing, Peepy dear?”

“Nothing at all, darling. Just sit quite still. See if you can’t have a little sleep. I’ll be back in only a moment.”

And as Anna sank away, downwards, somewhere, glad to have been given permission, she saw Peepy amusingly run out of the room, and far off heard her frenziedly shouting, incomprehensible words, as if war had come and an invasion.

Margot, (her name) had a rambling apartment in an affluent area of Preguna, which she shared with the elderly, eccentric and kohl-eyed female lover who had shouted Harlot at the dress-show. This woman, Peepy – Margot – introduced to Anna, not by name, but, by a title. “This is my Great Love.”

And the Great Love bowed