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"
Do
you
forgive
me
?
"
I
bent
and
kissed
her
cheek
and
she
put
her
arms
round
me
so
that
I
lay
half
across
her
,
and
we
had
a
whispered
conversation
,
mouths
to
each
other
’
s
left
ears
.
"
Say
you
wanted
to
.
"
"
I
wanted
to
.
"
"
Say
you
love
me
a
little
still
.
"
"
I
love
you
a
little
still
.
"
She
pinched
my
back
.
"
A
lot
still
.
"
"
And
you
’
ll
get
better
.
"
"
Mm
.
"
"
And
never
go
with
those
nasty
women
again
.
"
"
Never
.
"
"
It
’
s
silly
when
you
can
have
it
for
free
.
With
love
.
"
"
I
know
.
"
I
was
staring
at
the
ends
of
hair
against
the
rock
,
an
inch
or
two
from
my
eyes
,
and
trying
to
bring
myself
to
the
point
of
confession
.
But
it
seemed
like
treading
on
a
flower
because
one
can
’
t
be
bothered
to
step
aside
.
"
You
’
re
killing
my
back
.
"
I
pushed
up
,
but
she
held
me
by
the
shoulders
,
so
that
I
had
to
stare
down
at
her
.
I
sustained
her
look
,
its
honesty
,
for
a
while
,
then
I
turned
and
sat
with
my
back
to
her
.
"
What
’
s
wrong
?
"
"
Nothing
.
I
just
wondered
what
malicious
god
made
a
nice
kid
like
you
see
anything
in
a
bastard
like
me
.
"
"
That
reminds
me
.
A
crossword
clue
.
I
saw
it
months
ago
.
Ready
?
"
I
nodded
.
"
’
All
mixed
up
,
but
the
better
part
of
Nicholas
’
…
six
letters
.
"
I
worked
it
out
,
smiled
at
her
.
"
Did
the
clue
end
in
a
full
stop
or
a
question
mark
?
"
"
It
ended
in
my
crying
.
As
usual
.
"
I
said
,
"
If
only
life
was
as
simple
as
an
anagram
.
"
And
the
bird
above
us
sang
in
the
silence
.
We
set
off
down
.
As
we
came
lower
,
it
grew
warmer
and
warmer
.
Summer
rose
to
meet
us
.
Alison
led
the
way
,
and
so
she
could
rarely
see
my
face
.
I
tried
to
sort
out
my
feelings
about
her
.
It
irritated
me
still
that
she
put
so
much
reliance
on
the
body
thing
,
the
shared
orgasm
.
Her
mistaking
that
for
love
,
her
not
seeing
that
love
was
something
other
the
mystery
of
withdrawal
,
reserve
,
walking
away
through
the
trees
,
turning
the
mouth
away
at
the
last
moment
.
On
Parnassus
of
all
mountains
,
I
thought
,
her
unsubtlety
,
her
inability
to
hide
behind
metaphor
,
ought
to
offend
me
;
to
bore
me
as
uncomplex
poetry
normally
bored
me
.
And
yet
in
some
way
I
couldn
’
t
define
she
had
,
had
always
had
,
this
secret
trick
of
slipping
through
all
the
obstacles
I
put
between
us
;
as
if
she
were
really
my
sister
,
had
access
to
unfair
pressures
and
could
always
evoke
deep
similarities
to
annul
,
or
to
make
seem
shallow
,
the
differences
in
taste
or
feeling
.
She
began
to
talk
about
being
an
air
hostess
;
about
herself
.
"
Oh
Jesus
,
excitement
.
That
lasts
about
a
couple
of
duties
.
New
faces
,
new
cities
,
new
romances
with
handsome
pilots
.
Most
of
the
pilots
think
we
’
re
part
of
the
aircrew
amenities
.
Just
queueing
up
to
be
blessed
by
their
miserable
old
Battle
-
of
-
Britain
cocks
.
"
I
laughed
.
"
Nicko
,
it
’
s
not
funny
.
It
destroys
you
.
That
bloody
tin
pipe
.
And
all
that
freedom
,
that
space
outside
.
Sometimes
I
just
want
to
pull
the
safety
handle
and
be
sucked
out
.
Just
falling
,
a
minute
of
wonderful
lonely
passengerless
falling
…
"
"
You
’
re
not
serious
.
"
She
looked
back
.
"
More
serious
than
you
think
.
We
call
it
charm
depression
.
When
you
get
so
penny
-
in
-
the
-
slot
charming
that
you
stop
being
human
any
more
.
It
’
s
like
…
sometimes
we
’
re
so
busy
after
take
-
off
we
don
’
t
realize
how
far
the
plane
’
s
climbed
and
you
look
out
and
it
’
s
a
shock
…
it
’
s
like
that
,
you
suddenly
realize
how
far
you
are
from
what
you
really
are
.
Or
you
were
,
or
something
.
I
don
’
t
explain
it
well
.
"
"
Yes
you
do
.
Very
well
.
"
"
You
begin
to
feel
you
don
’
t
belong
anywhere
any
more
.
You
know
,
as
if
I
didn
’
t
have
enough
problems
that
way
already
.
I
mean
England
’
s
impossible
,
it
becomes
more
honi
wit
qui
smelly
pants
every
day
,
it
’
s
a
graveyard
.
And
Australia
…
Australia
.
God
,
how
I
hate
my
country
.
The
meanest
ugliest
blindest
…
"
she
gave
up
.
We
walked
on
a
way
,
then
she
said
,
"
It
’
s
just
I
haven
’
t
roots
anywhere
any
more
,
I
don
’
t
belong
anywhere
.
They
’
re
all
places
I
fly
to
or
from
.
Or
over
.
I
just
have
people
I
like
.
Or
love
.
They
’
re
the
only
homeland
I
have
left
.
"
She
threw
a
look
back
,
a
shy
one
,
as
if
she
had
been
saving
up
this
truth
about
herself
,
this
rootlessness
,
homelandlessness
,
which
she
knew
was
also
a
truth
about
me
.
"
At
least
we
’
ve
got
rid
of
a
lot
of
useless
illusions
as
well
.
"
"
Clever
us
.
"
She
fell
silent
and
I
swallowed
her
reproach
.
In
spite
of
her
superficial
independence
,
her
fundamental
need
was
to
cling
.
All
her
life
was
an
attempt
to
disprove
it
;
and
so
proved
it
.
She
was
like
a
sea
anemone
—
had
only
to
be
touched
to
adhere
to
what
touched
her
.
She
stopped
.
We
both
noticed
it
at
the
same
time
.
Below
us
to
our
right
,
the
sound
of
water
,
a
lot
of
water
.
"
I
’
d
love
to
bathe
my
feet
.
Could
we
get
down
?
"
We
struck
off
the
path
through
the
trees
and
after
a
while
came
on
a
faint
trail
.
It
led
us
down
,
down
and
finally
out
into
a
clearing
.
At
one
end
was
a
waterfall
some
ten
feet
or
so
high
.
A
pooi
of
limpid
water
had
formed
beneath
it
.
The
clearing
was
dense
with
flowers
and
butterflies
,
a
tiny
trough
of
green
-
gold
luxuriance
after
the
dark
forest
we
had
been
walking
through
.
At
the
upper
edge
of
the
clearing
there
was
a
little
cliff
with
a
shallow
cave
,
outside
which
some
shepherd
had
pleached
an
arbor
of
fir
branches
.
There
were
sheep
droppings
on
the
floor
,
but
they
were
old
.
No
one
could
have
been
there
since
summer
began
.
"
Let
’
s
have
a
swim
.
"
"
It
’
ll
be
like
ice
.
"
"
Yah
.
"
She
pulled
her
shirt
over
her
head
,
and
unhooked
her
bra
,
grinning
at
me
in
the
flecked
shadow
of
the
arbor
;
I
was
cornered
again
.
"
The
place
is
probably
alive
with
snakes
.
"
"
Like
Eden
.
"
She
stepped
out
of
her
jeans
and
her
white
pants
.
Then
she
reached
up
and
snapped
a
dead
cone
off
one
of
the
arbor
branches
and
held
it
out
to
me
.
I
watched
her
run
nakedly
through
the
long
grass
to
the
pool
,
try
the
water
,
groan
.
Then
she
waded
forwards
and
swanned
in
with
a
scream
.
The
water
was
jade
green
,
melted
snow
,
and
it
made
my
heart
jolt
with
shock
when
I
plunged
beside
her
.
And
yet
it
was
beautiful
,
the
shadow
of
the
trees
,
the
sunlight
on
the
glade
,
the
white
roar
of
the
little
fall
,
the
iciness
,
the
solitude
,
the
laughing
,
the
nakedness
;
moments
one
knows
only
death
can
obliterate
.
Sitting
in
the
grass
beside
the
arbor
we
let
the
sun
and
the
small
breeze
dry
us
and
ate
the
last
of
the
chocolate
.
Then
Alison
lay
on
her
back
,
her
arms
thrown
out
,
her
legs
a
little
open
,
abandoned
to
the
sun
—
and
,
I
knew
,
to
me
.
For
a
time
I
lay
like
her
,
with
my
eyes
closed
.
Then
she
said
,
"
I
’
m
Queen
of
the
May
.
"
She
was
sitting
up
,
turned
to
me
,
propped
on
one
arm
.
She
had
woven
a
rough
crown
out
of
the
oxeyes
and
wild
pinks
that
grew
in
the
grass
around
us
.
It
sat
lopsidedly
on
her
uncombed
hair
;
and
she
wore
a
smile
of
touching
innocence
.
She
did
not
know
it
,
but
it
was
at
first
for
me
an
intensely
literary
moment
.
I
could
place
it
exactly
:
England
’
s
Helicon
.
I
had
forgotten
that
there
are
metaphors
and
metaphors
,
and
that
the
greatest
lyrics
are
very
rarely
anything
but
direct
and
unmetaphysical
.
Suddenly
she
was
like
such
a
poem
and
I
felt
a
passionate
wave
of
desire
for
her
.
It
was
not
only
lust
,
not
only
because
she
looked
,
as
she
did
in
her
periodic
fashion
,
disturbingly
pretty
,
small
breasted
,
small
waisted
,
leaning
on
one
hand
,
dimpled
then
grave
;
a
child
of
sixteen
,
not
a
girl
of
twenty
-
four
,
but
because
I
was
seeing
through
all
the
ugly
,
the
unpoetic
accretions
of
modern
life
to
the
naked
real
self
of
her
—
a
vision
of
her
as
naked
in
that
way
as
she
was
in
body
;
Eve
glimpsed
again
through
ten
thousand
generations
.
It
rushed
on
me
,
it
was
quite
simple
,
I
did
love
her
,
I
wanted
to
keep
her
and
I
wanted
to
keep
—
or
to
find
—
Lily
.
It
wasn
’
t
that
I
wanted
one
more
than
the
other
,
I
wanted
both
,
I
had
to
have
both
;
there
was
no
emotional
dishonesty
in
it
.
The
only
dishonesty
was
in
my
feeling
dishonest
,
concealing
…
it
was
love
that
finally
drove
me
to
confess
,
not
cruelty
,
not
a
wish
to
be
free
,
to
be
callous
and
clear
,
but
simply
love
.
I
think
,
in
those
few
long
moments
,
that
Alison
saw
that
.
She
must
have
seen
something
torn
and
sad
in
my
face
,
because
she
said
,
very
gently
,
"
What
’
s
wrong
?
"
"
I
haven
’
t
had
syphilis
.
It
’
s
all
a
lie
.
"
She
gave
me
an
intense
look
,
then
sank
back
on
the
grass
.
"
Oh
Nicholas
.
"
"
I
want
to
tell
you
what
’
s
really
happened
.
"
"
Not
now
.
Please
not
now
.
Whatever
’
s
happened
,
come
and
make
love
to
me
.
"
And
we
did
make
love
;
not
sex
,
but
love
;
though
sex
would
have
been
so
much
wiser
.
Lying
beside
her
I
began
to
try
to
describe
what
had
happened
at
Bourani
.
The
ancient
Greeks
said
that
if
one
slept
a
night
on
Parnassus
either
one
became
inspired
or
one
went
mad
,
and
there
was
no
doubt
which
happened
to
me
;
even
as
I
spoke
I
knew
it
would
have
been
better
to
say
nothing
,
to
have
made
something
up
…
but
love
,
that
need
to
be
naked
.
I
had
chosen
the
worst
of
all
possible
moments
to
be
honest
,
and
like
most
people
who
have
spent
much
of
their
adult
life
being
emotionally
dishonest
,
I
overcalculated
the
sympathy
a
final
being
honest
would
bring
…
but
love
,
that
need
to
be
understood
.
And
Parnassus
was
also
to
blame
,
for
being
so
Greek
;
a
place
that
made
anything
but
the
truth
a
mindsore
.
Of
course
she
wanted
first
to
know
the
reason
for
the
bizarre
pretext
I
had
hit
on
,
but
I
wanted
her
to
understand
the
strangeness
of
Bourani
before
I
mentioned
Lily
.
I
didn
’
t
deliberately
hide
anything
else
about
Conchis
,
but
I
still
left
great
gaps
.
"
It
’
s
not
that
I
believe
any
of
these
things
in
the
way
he
tries
to
make
me
believe
them
.
But
even
there
…
since
he
hypnotized
me
,
I
don
’
t
absolutely
know
.
It
’
s
simply
that
when
I
’
m
with
him
I
feel
he
does
have
access
to
some
kind
of
power
.
Not
occult
.
I
can
’
t
explain
.
"
"
But
it
must
be
all
faked
.
"
"
All
right
,
the
events
are
all
faked
.
But
why
me
?
How
did
he
know
I
would
go
there
?
I
’
m
nothing
to
him
,
he
obviously
doesn
’
t
even
think
very
much
of
me
.
As
a
person
.
He
’
s
always
laughing
at
me
.
"
"
I
still
don
’
t
understand
…
"
The
moment
had
come
.
I
hesitated
.
She
looked
at
me
,
and
I
could
not
hesitate
anymore
.
"
There
’
s
a
girl
.
"
"
I
knew
it
.
"
She
sat
up
.
"
Alison
darling
,
for
God
’
s
sake
try
to
understand
.
Listen
.
"
"
I
’
m
listening
.
"
But
her
face
was
averted
.
So
at
last
I
told
her
about
Lily
;
though
not
,
except
obliquely
,
by
implication
,
what
I
felt
about
Lily
.
I
made
it
out
to
be
an
asexual
thing
,
a
fascination
of
the
mind
.
"
But
she
attracts
you
the
other
way
.
"
"
Allie
,
I
can
’
t
tell
you
how
much
I
’
ve
hated
myself
this
weekend
.
And
tried
to
tell
you
everything
a
dozen
times
before
.
I
don
’
t
want
to
be
attracted
by
her
.
In
any
way
.
A
month
,
three
weeks
ago
I
couldn
’
t
have
believed
it
.
I
still
don
’
t
know
what
it
is
about
her
.
Honestly
.
I
only
know
I
’
m
haunted
,
possessed
by
everything
over
there
.
Not
just
her
.
Something
so
strange
is
going
on
.
And
I
’
m
…
involved
.
"
She
looked
unimpressed
.
"
I
’
ve
got
to
go
back
to
the
island
.
Because
of
the
job
.
There
are
so
many
ways
in
which
I
’
m
not
a
free
agent
.
"
"
But
this
girl
.
"
She
was
staring
at
the
ground
,
picking
seeds
off
grassheads
.
"
She
’
s
irrelevant
.
Really
.
Just
a
very
small
part
of
it
.
"
"
Then
why
all
the
performance
?
"
"
You
can
’
t
understand
,
I
’
m
being
pulled
in
two
.
"
"
She
’
s
very
pretty
,
isn
’
t
she
?
"
"
If
I
still
didn
’
t
care
like
hell
for
you
deep
down
it
would
all
have
been
so
easy
.
"
"
Is
she
pretty
?
"
"
Yes
.
"
"
Very
pretty
.
"
"
I
suppose
so
.
"
She
buried
her
face
in
her
arms
.
I
stroked
her
warm
shoulder
.
"
She
’
s
totally
unlike
you
.
Unlike
any
modern
girl
.
I
can
’
t
explain
.
"
She
turned
her
head
away
.
"
Alison
.
"
"
I
must
seem
just
like
a
lump
of
dirty
old
kitchen
salt
.
And
she
’
s
a
beautiful
cream
jelly
.
"
I
sat
up
.
We
stared
in
opposite
directions
.
"
Now
you
’
re
being
ridiculous
.
"
"
Am
I
?
"
There
was
a
tense
silence
.
"
Look
,
I
’
m
trying
desperately
,
for
once
in
my
miserable
life
,
to
be
honest
.
I
have
no
excuses
.
If
I
met
this
girl
tomorrow
,
okay
,
I
could
say
,
I
love
Alison
,
Alison
loves
me
,
nothing
doing
.
But
I
met
her
a
fortnight
ago
.
And
I
’
ve
got
to
meet
her
again
.
"
"
And
you
don
’
t
love
Alison
.
"
I
looked
at
her
,
trying
to
show
her
that
,
in
my
fashion
…
she
stared
away
.
"
Or
you
love
me
till
you
see
a
better
bit
of
tail
.
"
"
Don
’
t
be
crude
.
"
"
I
am
crude
.
I
think
crude
.
I
talk
crude
.
I
am
crude
.
"
She
kneeled
,
took
a
breath
.
"
So
what
now
?
I
curtsey
and
withdraw
?
"
"
I
wish
to
God
I
wasn
’
t
so
complicated
"
Complicated
!
"
She
snorted
.
"
Selfish
.
"
"
That
’
s
better
.
"
We
were
silent
.
Two
coupled
yellow
butterflies
flitted
heavily
,
saggingly
,
past
.
"
All
I
wanted
was
that
you
should
know
what
I
am
.
"
"
I
know
what
you
are
.
"
"
If
you
did
you
’
d
have
cut
me
out
right
at
the
beginning
.
"
"
I
still
know
what
you
are
.
"
"
I
want
you
to
do
now
whatever
seems
best
to
you
.
Tell
me
to
go
to
hell
.
For
good
.
Hate
me
.
"
"
Or
wait
for
you
?
"
And
her
cold
gray
eyes
went
through
me
,
cutting
very
deep
.
She
stood
up
and
went
to
wash
.
It
was
hopeless
.
I
couldn
’
t
manage
it
,
I
couldn
’
t
explain
,
and
she
could
never
understand
.
I
put
my
clothes
on
and
turned
my
back
while
she
dressed
in
silence
.
When
she
was
ready
,
she
said
,
"
Don
’
t
for
God
’
s
sake
say
any
more
.
I
can
’
t
bear
it
.
"
We
got
to
Arachova
about
five
and
after
a
quick
meal
set
off
to
drive
back
to
Athens
.
I
twice
tried
to
discuss
everything
with
her
,
but
she
wouldn
’
t
allow
it
.
We
had
said
all
that
could
be
said
;
and
she
sat
brooding
,
wordless
,
all
the
way
.
We
came
over
the
pass
at
Daphne
at
about
eight
-
thirty
,
with
the
last
light
over
the
pink
and
amber
city
,
the
first
neon
signs
round
Syntagma
and
Omonia
like
distant
jewels
.
I
thought
of
where
we
had
been
that
time
the
night
before
,
and
glanced
at
Alison
.
She
was
putting
on
lipstick
.
Perhaps
after
all
there
was
a
solution
:
to
get
her
back
into
the
hotel
,
make
love
to
her
,
prove
to
her
through
the
loins
that
I
did
love
her
…
and
why
not
,
let
her
see
that
I
might
be
worth
suffering
,
just
as
I
was
and
always
would
be
.
I
began
to
talk
a
little
,
casually
,
about
Athens
;
but
her
answers
were
so
uninterested
,
so
curt
,
that
it
sounded
as
ridiculous
as
it
was
,
and
I
fell
silent
.
The
pink
turned
to
violet
,
and
soon
it
was
night
.
We
arrived
at
the
hotel
in
the
Piraeus
—
I
had
reserved
the
same
rooms
.
Alison
went
up
while
I
took
the
car
round
to
the
garage
.
On
the
way
back
I
saw
a
flower
seller
and
bought
a
dozen
carnations
from
him
.
I
went
straight
to
her
room
,
and
knocked
on
the
door
.
I
had
to
knock
three
times
before
she
answered
.
She
had
been
crying
.
"
I
brought
you
some
flowers
.
"
"
I
don
’
t
want
your
bloody
flowers
.
"
"
Look
,
Alison
,
it
’
s
not
the
end
of
the
world
.
"
"
Just
the
end
of
the
affaire
.
"
I
broke
the
silence
.
"
Aren
’
t
you
going
to
let
me
in
?
"
"
Why
the
hell
should
I
?
"
She
stood
holding
the
door
half
shut
,
the
room
in
darkness
behind
her
.
Her
face
was
terrible
;
puffed
and
unforgiving
;
nakedly
hurt
.
"
Just
let
me
come
in
and
talk
to
you
.
"
"
No
.
"
"
Please
.
"
"
Go
away
.
"
I
pushed
in
past
her
and
closed
the
door
.
She
stood
against
the
wall
,
staring
at
me
.
Light
came
up
from
the
street
,
and
I
could
see
her
eyes
.
I
offered
the
flowers
.
She
snatched
them
from
my
hand
,
went
to
the
window
and
hurled
them
,
pink
heads
,
green
stems
,
out
into
the
night
;
remained
there
with
her
back
to
me
.
"
This
experience
.
It
’
s
like
being
halfway
through
a
book
.
